The next morning, she didn't wake. The next afternoon, she didn't wake. The next evening... she didn't wake.
The children were still very much alive, tossing and turning, kicking and punching and causing bruises on her stomach. There was no way she wasn't in pain, but still... she didn't wake. She was pale, paler than she had ever been, looking like the life was simply draining from her, and when the doctor came to check on her, he instructed Marcello, "she needs to drink. If you can get her to drink, even in her sleep, she needs to."
It was fairly clear the life was slipping from her, but he couldn't bring himself to say that to the prince. "I'll see what else I have... anything that might bring her around..." He told him, exiting the room to rummage through his medical supplies once more. He'd combed them and the records again and again and had come up empty thus far.
Marcello had been pacing the room so frantically, he'd worn down the carpet. How had this happened? Of course, he remembered Natalia crying uncontrollably, being so angry he feared she might say the words 'burn her,' but then she had settled! She'd fallen asleep, and he had not moved from her side for many hours. However, when she did not wake, he began the task or attempting to rouse her.
They'd shaken her, pried her eyes open, bathed her, sat her up, splashed her with cold water, offered her food and drink and blood... but nothing worked. Over that time, she had grown paler and more gaunt as the children drained more and more of her life away. He wasn't even sure if they were strong enough to survive if she died. He could lose them, all three of them, and that reality sent a chill into his heart.
He sank down beside her, cradling her hand, and praying if there was any deity that would take his pleas, she'd pull through. For the first time in hours, he looked away from her to reach for the blood he had in the room. He poured some into the glass and delicately lifted it to her lips. Parting her lips, he tipped the liquid ever so slightly, praying she would drink it down rather than choke it up.
He knew the doctor was protecting his feelings by not telling him she was on death's door. As tears streamed down his face, he clung to his one hope: that this situation was unique. Perhaps what was happening now was so unique, so uncharted, that she would pull through.
He simply held her fragile, dying hand, stroking the back of it with the pad of his thumb as he tried his hardest to force blood down her throat. Her life might depend on his ability to do so. Both the twins' lives could still depend on his ability to do so. "Oh, Nat, if you can hear me. You're really scaring me now. We always said we would make it together, and now you've gone and napped on me," he chuckled bitterly, but it was a hollow joke. "Please, just come back Natalia..."
She swallowed some of the blood but sputtered, choking on some as well. For a moment, the coughing and choking made her seem more alive.
Then the doctor returned with something else in his hand, a vial of what looked like blood, but it was almost black. "I don't know if this will help or hurt, but if we don't try something, we might lose all three of them." There was no longer any point in mincing words.
He uncorked the vial, and as Marcello held it open, poured the contents into her mouth. She coughed, but he held her mouth closed so she would have to swallow it.
"That is a vial of blood from generations ago when a royal female was turned. Only a few vials were saved and not put back into her. It has pure royal blood with pure vampiric power. It will either turn her or save her." As he removed his hand from under her chin, he placed it reassuringly on Marcello's shoulder. "Now we wait."
He could only hope it didn't compromise the children, but they couldn't live if their host died. So their best chance to survive was to make her survive. "It may take a while to see a change." He squeezed the shoulder his hand rested upon. "Call me if you need to, and keep trying to get her to drink. It's the best thing for her... and them." Then he walked to the door and closed it behind him.
A little over half an hour later, her body began to twitch. She was still unwaking, but her muscles would spasm randomly. The two children inside her continued to move, reassuring their father they were indeed still alive. However, their mother showed very few signs outside of breathing and twitching that she had any life left in her.
It had come down to this. His wife would either turn—killing their two children and devastating both of them to the core, or she would be saved, with no guarantee that it would not happen again, nor the potential side effects of this tactic known. He just wanted to hold her limp body and cry. Instead, he had to sit and wait, trying to pour blood down the mouth of a woman that was incapable of drinking.
He watched as she began to twitch and spasm, not sure whether it meant she was being saved or turned. As he held her hand, he felt the occasional squeeze as her body jerked. Please don't let her be turning... Please let this be something else, something all three could survive.
"Please Natalia, if you turn and our children die. But if you die, I lose all three of you. I won't know what to do with myself." He refused to use the words 'kill our children' it was not her fault what had happened. "I miss those big, green eyes so much."
Suddenly, her eyes shot open like a bolt of electricity had run through her. She looked at the worried expression on her husband's face and tried to smile at him. "Hey you..." she said quietly before grabbing her stomach with an anguished cry. The pain was different than before. They were moving, but not enough to cause that kind of pain.
"Wh... what's going on..?" she asked, panic sweeping her. It was at that moment the doctor walked in.
"She's awake!" He exclaimed, rushing to her side.
"It hurts!" She called out, gripping her stomach.
He immediately began assessing her. "They're still alive, but it may have tried to throw her into labor." He looked at her eyes, felt her pulse, listened to her breathing. "It doesn't appear she's turning, but her body may have thought she had to give birth because she was—" he rifled through the box and gave her something else to drink, which she did. "This should stop it. I hope."
Marcello watching on intently, scared of what might happen next. "What do you mean 'you hope'?! What happens if it doesn't? Are we then in full-blown labor? You told me not to mess with the box too much doctor!" Throwing his own words back against him only made him more fearful that they were taking risk after risk.
"I wouldn't be 'messing with the box' if it wasn't dire. She's not far enough along. I'm afraid their chance of survival is little to none!" He snapped, but immediately regained his composure. "I'm sorry, your majesty. I am doing everything I can." The old man hobbled over to a chair on the other side of the room and sat to monitor her without being so intrusive.
The pain hit her once more, then slowly subsided. "I feel... ok..." she said, surprised. "Hungry... thirsty... but... ok..." she was actually hungry. For proper food! Not just blood. That seemed like a good sign to her. "What—what happened? I fell asleep, then when I woke up you looked so afraid."
Marcello held her tightly, barely able to believe the worst had passed. He had been gripping the edge of the bed so hard, it left a dent on the wood. Muffled against her hair he said, "thank you, doctor. My apologies for getting so worked up. I know you meant well."
Then he pulled back and looked into her gorgeous green eyes and smiled for the first time in a while. "Its just so terrifying seeing someone you love like that. You were out for a day sweetheart." He brushed some hairs out of her face and behind her ear. "You were comatose. I thought maybe you were turning or—well, I thought a lot of terrible things." He still felt mentally exhausted. The trauma he had gone through had taken its toll. Even if his body never physically tired, his mind and soul were wrecked.
"I'm sorry I scared you..." she said, "for me it was just like... I was so exhausted, I fell asleep, then I woke up and saw you upset. It was as if a normal amount of time had passed." It was so strange. She'd been out a full day? She felt like she slept, but not so long.
"I'll have a servant bring her some food," the doctor said, rising from his chair to fetch someone, giving them a moment alone.
She brought his hand to her lips and kissed it. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I would never intentionally scare you like that." She looked into his eyes, and they looked... exhausted. Those stormy grey eyes had never looked so much like he might pass out at any moment. He might not need sleep, but rest was a different matter altogether. "You look like you've been through hell. Come, lay down with me." She gently patted the space next to her. "I'm ok...at least...I think I am..."
Relief swept over him, and he slowly crawled into the bed beside her. He let his body be still and for his mind to be at peace, closing his eyes. "I was just so scared the whole time. I never left your side. I couldn't. Just in case something happened. I had to make you drink blood while you slept. You looked like you were dying and.. And.." He could not carry on, even the pain of remembering it making his body tense all over again.
She stroked his face lovingly, trying to reassure him. "Shh. It's alrighty. I'm safe. The babies are safe." She whispered, kissing his cheek. "Rest, darling. I'll be right here."
He opened his eyes half lidded as she looked back at him. Just wanting to rest his mind for a little while. He repeated, "You're safe, the babies are safe. I feel better."
The doctor came back in with a tray of food and poured her a glass of blood to go with it. "You need both. You still have human needs to be met. But you need to keep drinking for them." He gestured to her stomach.
She took the tray and began eating hungrily, then stopped to drain the glass. He refilled it as she continued to eat.
"Good. Take it slow. You've been through a lot," he reminded her, and she tried to decrease her pace. After finishing, she drained the second glass, and he poured her a third. "I need you to remember to drink every few hours. If you don't, they'll drain too much from you. Even at night." He looked over at Marcello, who looked as close to dead as he could ever remember the prince. "Wake her up if you have to. At least one glass every 3 to 4 hours."
He looked up lazily at the doctor with a tired smile. "They've stopped sleeping as much, haven't they? Could that be what caused all this?" He would have no problem waking her up. The nights were long, and even if she was tired and grumpy, it would be a joy to know she was alright.
He laid his head in her lap now that she finished her food, right next to her bump. "I'll make sure there is always blood on hand. We have had a couple of occasions where we ran out for a few hours." Wrapping his arms around her, he let her warmth run through him and make his body tingle. He could hear her gentle heartbeat as well as two smaller, fainter fast ones. He would never forget that sound, the symphony of family.
"Is there anything else we should know, doctor?"
"I think that's where our trouble began. We didn't realize how much she needed because... we didn't know she was feeding two of them." He sighed. "And I have a feeling since they're turning her. Now her own body may need some as well to facilitate the process. If it's taking it and not feeding them, they're feeding off her..." he tried to explain. "But I hope if we can hold out a few more weeks, they'll be strong enough to survive outside of their mother..."
He took out his measuring tape since he was already there. "She's progressing rapidly. Even since yesterday, she's grown. If this were a single pregnancy, I'd say in a week's time she'd be far enough if she went into labor again that it would survive, but as a double..." He shook his head. "I need you to hold out a month, Natalia. Two or close to it would be better, but I'm not sure you'll still be human in two months..." he sighed. He knew it wasn't what she wanted to hear, but their growth rate combined with the changes she had experienced. If she lasted a full month without them turning her, it would be a miracle.
"Each of these progresses differently. The records show healthy births anywhere from eight weeks to eight months..." he shook his head. "But you have a case that will go down in the history books. Never has a woman carried twins. You are terribly strong, or you wouldn't have survived this long. But I won't say it will get easier. It won't. The next month, you will continue to go through changes: both the struggles of pregnancy in general and vampiric. I wish you both luck, and please come see me if you need anything..."
They had a timescale. It wasn't exactly an ideal one for the both of them, but now they knew what they had to aim for. Just another month of care and stability and they would be reasonably safe to be born. Every day after that only increased their chances.
As the doctor left, he looked back into Natalia's eyes. "Only another month, minimum. We can do that, no matter how hard it gets." It was easier for him to say. He didn't have two little monsters inside of him sucking away at his life force, neither did he have to cope with pregnancy hormones throwing him out of proportion. He tried to empathise with her, however, he knew his duties lay in being there for her whenever she needed him.
Putting a hand over the bump, he felt them move around. "We'll just keep drinking plenty of blood and hope you turn slowly. Soon, we will hold our little babies, in their newborn blankets." He knew she was daunted, but he hoped his words would help her relax and give her a pleasant mental image. "You'll be able to sing them lullabies. Their tiny bodies slowly drifting into dreams."
She smiled. It was a pleasant image. A month. She could make it a month. She had to. Natalia absolutely refused to go on without the two children inside her. "We can do it. I know we can." She tried to reassure herself as much as anyone.
She felt her eyes closing, slipping back into sleep. "I'm going to rest for a little while. Wake me in three hours." She told him, her eyes feeling suddenly so heavy. It was like it was taking all of her strength just to stay awake. So she let sleep take her over once more.
He watched her fall asleep with a determined look on her face, slowly melting into a perfectly relaxed one. Part of him was paranoid that she might sleep for days like she just had done, but he would wake her in three hours with some small cakes and some glasses of blood. Hopefully, she would appreciate the extra gesture.