There are only a few chapters left. I know there’s been some loss of interest at this point. That’s ok. Things will all tie back together soon.
*November*
“Cassiopea.”
“Pass.”
“Asteria.”
“Too much like the rabbit’s name.”
“It means ‘star.’” You huffed with a roll of your eyes before turning back to the empty page at the back of the book in your hand. “Alright, nevermind.” You tapped the eraser end of your pencil against the paper a few times in thought before another lightbulb lit off above your head. “Layla or Melanie?”
“No.” Pitch flashed you a look.
The two of you sat across from one another in the library this autumn afternoon. It was not like you could do much else at this point - or so it felt that way at least. With only a few more weeks to go, even the thick material of your heavy dark cloak hanging from your shoulders was barely enough to cover the slight curve of your abdomen that showed from outside the garment coating the true roundness of the well-grown bump resting underneath. You would adjust yourself every few minutes on the cushioned chair in which you sat to shift the center of the extra weight of it, all while trying not to awaken your unborn son or daughter whose lack of movement within the last hour indicated that they were probably sleeping.
You sat with a pencil and novel in hand that was turned to one of the first extra pages for you to jot down notes. It was getting a little late to have not already picked out a name, but there was still enough time to drag your husband into this little session of yours no matter how long it would take. You would pencil in a few in different sections of a sketched-out table, making sure to keep this page separate from the other page containing your incomplete to-do list of bullet points, scribbles, and sloppy cursive. The many books on the surrounding shelves sometimes proved helpful to grant ideas as well.
“They mean ‘dark beauty,’” you pointed out. Your sigh gave away your partial annoyance. “Okay, back to space names.”
“We’re not naming a constellation,” Pitch said with crossed arms, brows knitting together.
“I thought you’d seem more fond of those kinds of names than the regular ones.” You then pointed your pencil in his direction as if to prove your point with its sharp tip when you gave your next suggestion. “Andromeda.”
The Nightmare King looked up in thought for a moment as he surprised even himself by taking the name into consideration. “...Maybe.”
“See what I mean? Putting it on the list.” You quickly scribbled the name down on your makeshift notepad. Pitch studied your motions as you balanced the paperback occasionally on the armrest of your chair and other times against your belly. He held back a chuckle at the way you stuck the tip of your tongue out when you wrote. At the same time, he was bringing himself to make note of the suggestion that awaited in his mind.
“Estelle means ‘star.’”
You looked up to make sure you did not mishear his murmur. “Estelle or Estella?” You pursed your lips, finding you liked the way those names sounded after all. “I’ll put those down.” As you wrote, you thought to muster enough confidence to also bring light to your latest idea. “I also thought of Ravanna, but I was worried you’d think it was too simple.”
“Ravanna?” Pitch took a few seconds to think on this one as well. “I wouldn’t say I dislike it.”
“I’ll take that as a plus and put it down.” When you penciled it in, you looked over the rest of your list. “Okay, that’s enough girl names for now. Let’s find more boy names.”
“A thrill as always.”
“There’s always Orion.”
“Absolutely not.”
“I think Kieran is supposed to mean ‘dark one’ or something like that.”
“Do the meanings matter that much to you?” Pitch gave you another funny look.
“I’m gonna write it down before you turn it away,” you replied before turning back to your list in hand. Once you finished, you looked around at the nearby bookshelves against the walls. “Maybe we should look through some more books for ideas.”
“If only there was a library nearby.”
“Oh, stop.” You gave an eye roll at the Nightmare King’s humor. “I think I left another book I was looking through last night by the bed, would you mind getting it?”
Without question, Pitch then rose to his feet upon your request. “Don’t go running off,” he joked again.
“Very funny,” you responded dryly. “Don’t worry, I’ve got a bowling ball pinning me down.”
He glanced back at you over his shoulder in amusement before exiting the room. With that, you tucked away your pencil into the novel in your hands and set it off to the side on the table by your chair. You then folded your hands over the top of your bump and relaxed back into the cushioned fabric of the lounge seat. Your fingers twiddled and thrummed as you waited patiently during your alone time for the next few minutes. When you stared down at the roundness sitting atop your hips, you considered talking to them to pass the time as your curiosities drew in.
What would they be like? Head-strong and worthy of leading like Pitch? Or adventure-driven and creative like you? Perhaps a mix of both. Which one of you would they look more like? Maybe they would grow near their father’s height once they got older - if they could get much older. The effects of immortality were still up in the air in terms of how they would impact your child. If they inherited his broad shoulders though, it would probably make you run for your money. On the brighter side of things, they were to be the prince or princess of your kingdom after all. And you were to be their mother. And Pitch - while you wondered his hesitations at his second attempt beneath his willingness and loyalty - will be their father. Past the collection of worries, you looked forward most of all to the image of you and Pitch introducing them to their first mare of their own when they came of age, teaching them the works of the galleon, telling them tales from the stars.
You smoothed your hands down over the front of your cloak, inhaling deeply and shutting your eyes. At the fullness of your lungs, just before you released your breath, a small twinge in your side built up. You furrowed your brows together but thought nothing of it as you exhaled. Being eight months in already, these were not uncommon sensations and no longer crossed your mind as something to be concerned of. Usually, a bit of walking around here and there helped them go away. You sat up a bit in your chair and leaned to one side for a moment, face scrunching up as the twinge built into a more intense pressure. However, as you counted in the seconds, the pain stayed there for longer than normal and seemed to continue to grow. A burning like fire spread over the sudden inferno of your abdomen. Your eyes shot back open.
Uh oh.
“Pitch…?!” You called out in your oncoming panic. You had only then noticed he was already reentering the library.
“That much of a rush for a book?” He held up the other novel that he had grabbed for you as he approached. But halfway into the space, he noticed your distress and stopped in his tracks. “...(Y/n)?”
“Something’s not right,” you spoke under your breath with a slight shake in your voice. You set your hand against your side in hopes to ease the discomfort somehow. This prompted Pitch to make his way over to you the rest of the way. He set down the book in hand upon the other book you had placed on the table to your right. That’s when he knelt down in front of you to be more at eye level, granting you all his attention.
“This pain isn’t going away,” you explained in your now strained voice. “I think…” you took another breath before looking him directly in the eyes. “It’s starting.”
Pitch froze, stunned. “Now?”
“I don’t know, maybe they liked one of the names!” Instead of the pain fading, it intensified further, causing you to groan. You tossed your head back and twisted your face up again. “Just get me to the bedchamber before I give birth in the library.”
Without questioning you further, the Nightmare King returned to a stand. In the process, he took you by the hands and quickly wrapped one of your arms over his shoulders so you rose with him. You leaned into him this way once you got to your feet, and he managed to hold onto your hand that remained tossed over his shoulder while he also snaked one arm across your back to lead you. He then began to guide you out of the library and into the halls of the lair.
You kept one hand placed against your side as you walked with him, your other hand starting to cling to the material of his robes at his shoulder. The pressure seizing you had yet to come to an end. You only made it a few steps with him out of the library and into the rest of the caves when you paused, forcing him to stop with you. You leaned forward with the want to curl in on yourself completely. The pain was making you double over, and the rising nerves in you made you feel even more unprepared for this than you already were.
“I don’t wanna do this now…” you winced. Something in you still hoped that this was all false and that it was all going to go away within seconds. That you two would be laughing about it in minutes. “Can’t we just wait this one out for a moment?”
“We may not have that long,” Pitch answered. You did not notice him glancing around at the surrounding caverns, possibly ensuring that where he was taking you was not far. Then, as you were still bent forward, the arm he had at your waist was joined by his second at the leggings at the backs of your knees.
Next thing you knew, you were scooped up off the floor and pulled to be held up bridal style against his chest. With one of your hands already bunching up the robes over his shoulder, you threw your second around his neck to cling to him fully. You shut your eyes tight as another strained whimper snagged at your vocal cords. The blur of it all made you no longer want to look. Maybe you would wake up and find that you fell asleep back in the library. It was too soon. This was not supposed to be happening so soon. As you held on to Pitch and he held you, he continued making his way across the halls.
Within seconds though, a new voice - a woman’s - came across the two of you while you still refused to reopen your eyes at the blinding pressure jabbing at you. “Your majesty…?”
You recognized one of the mares in her human form from the sound alone. Although, having been Queen of Nightmares for a year now, you were unsure if the reference was to you or to Pitch.
“Onyx, bring water and as many linens you can find into the bedchamber.” Pitch’s command was at ease yet stern, and he kept walking you to your destination as he spoke.
“Yes, of course…right away.”
You heard Onyx then head elsewhere after she replied past the worries of her own from what she had just witnessed, leaving you and Pitch to yourselves once more. You could imagine the mares getting ready to talk about this one amidst the encounter. The last thing you needed at the moment was for there to be excessive chatter on how the queen has begun her labors and that the kingdom must prepare promptly.
“I’m scared,” you whispered.
“You’re gonna be fine,” Pitch murmured back. “I’m here, I won’t leave you.”
You shuddered at the sound of his voice echoing through the caves while you felt the vibrations within his chest. You curled tighter against him as he carried you further down the halls. Your breaths evened out and your grip on his cloakings softened. You found yourself getting lost in his soothing words. As a matter of fact, you did not even notice right away when the pains had dissipated and vanished. It was when you cracked your eyes open at the sudden sensation did you realize upon the two of you approaching the doors to the bedchamber.
“Um…Pitch?”
“We’re almost there,” he eased. “Eyes on me.”
The bedroom doors opened and Pitch stepped through with you still in his hold. Soon enough, he was stopping at the edge of the mattress and setting you down. You were gently placed atop the covers, your hands sliding away from his robes. You sat upright against the headboard, and the moment you looked up at the king again is when you caught his focus.
“Pitch.”
He stood up straight again to await another request from you.
“I don’t think it’s actually coming,” you said with a small smile of embarrassment, noting that the pains had gone away halfway to the bedchamber and gave no hint to needing to prepare for more to come. Pitch narrowed his eyes at you in disbelief. You then watched his shoulders drop when he released a deep breath, the rest of the serious demeanor falling away with it. You laughed when he pivoted around and sat himself beside you at the edge of the mattress to recover with you.
Just then, the humanized Onyx appeared in the doorway. She stopped at the entry with a glass pitcher in hand and a stack of towels held in the other. She stood with unsureness at the sight of both of you inside taking the moment to return to actuality. When you turned your head to see her though, you smiled again apologetically.
“False alarm,” you announced. “Sorry.”
The girl instantly let out a snort with your chuckle. She took the cue to turn away and wander back off into the depths of the lair to leave her masters at peace, taking the items with her as well as her soft laughter. After she left, you turned back to Pitch as you leaned back against the pillows at the headboard.
The two of you stayed there for a while longer. You each ended up shutting the doors and taking the next couple of hours to lay together in the quiet relief that you still had plenty of time to prepare for what was to come. While a part of you wanted to keep an eye out for any pains in case they were to return after all, surely enough, none did. At the least, you each got a taste of what to do when the actual event is to take place - hopefully not for another few weeks as expected. Perhaps this experience would draw upon any new ideas on what to do during the real deal.
When you both lay side by side on the bed, Pitch told you the story of how the title of a distant ancestor earned Emily Jane her name back in the Golden Age. His former self was described to have considered naming his first daughter after collections of stars before meeting her. However, the moment he first saw her had proved that he ended up caring more about his child than anything else he could have called her. And you hoped the same for yourself.