Ashe began to wake blinking at the bright light in the room. Rasler smiled briefly and leaned in closer to her. "So you're up again?"
"I guess so."
"How do you feel?" He placed a hand on hers.
Ashe took in a deep breath. "Tired, drained, incredibly weak, and in pain, also worried and so many other things it's difficult to put into words."
"I'm sorry; I can't do anything about it."
She shook her head slightly, "No just being here waiting for me is more than enough." She glanced at the tray of food set on the bedside table. "I guess they want me to eat; not that I want to."
Rasler handed her the tray, and set it on her lap. "I went to fetch some clothes for us and told Vossler what happened. Not the whole story but part I assume he'll pick up the details that precipitated the riot in time." Knowing Vossler's temperament, it would also be for the best.
"You mean how some of his men were involved in the riot." She nibbled on the dry toast.
He nodded, watching her finish her breakfast. She set the tray aside, and then lay back down. Rasler then reached out for her hand, holding it tightly. The clocked ticked in the background melding with the footsteps of the hospital staff, and the quiet conversation of the halls. Ashe hardly said a word in the next few hours; instead, she held Rasler's hand while drifting in and out of sleep. He would stay by her side even if all she needed was his presence.
Minutes turned into hours, as Rasler watched over his wife. His thoughts drifted back to their child, they received no news of him despite it being many hours since they had last seen him. Were they busy taking care of him? Did he still struggle to live? Was he in any pain? There was much too fret and worry over and even fewer answers. He hoped that it was one of those situation were no news meant good news.
Ashe stirred, waking up from her light slumber. She glanced at the clock then looked back at her husband. "Have they said anything about our son yet? She asked.
"Nothing yet." He focused and their hands, hers was no longer clammy, but its pallor contrasted with his tanned hands.
"Oh." Her bottom lip trembled, echoing the fear in her voice. "I don't like that at all. They took my son before I even got to name him." She shook her head in disbelief.
"I—it will get better I promise you that. I'll do anything in my power even if it means-"
Ashe cut him off silencing him with a finger. "Say no more. I understand." She lay back down. "I too wish that I could have done something to stop all this. I'm his mother and even I was powerless to stop this, or to do anything about it now." A sigh escaped her lips. "We cannot do much other than pray for the best. 'Tis no longer in our hands."
The minutes passed by as Ashe fell into another light slumber once again. Time seemed slowly came to a halt once again; the room was still while outside in the hall buzzed with footsteps and regular hospital activity. Once or twice, a nurse stepped in to check on them, interrupting the silent stillness of the room. Hours passed by slowly.
The doctor on call finally made his appearance, he walked quietly and hurriedly as if not to wake a slumbering beast. He swallowed and tried to put on a stoic expression, but Rasler could easily see that it was simply a farce to keep those around him calm. The prince's mind reeled as he went through all of the possibilities, of what may have happened to their son. He then composed himself and prepared himself for anything. Ashe woke up once again at the sound of the footsteps.
After a few seconds of anticipatory silence the doctor spoke, as if he were carefully choosing his words. "I'm sorry but your son he is…" he trailed off and looked down, quickly losing his stoic demeanor. "He shall not make it to tomorrow."
Ashe bit her lip and hung her head. "No… this can't be…" Tears began to stream down her face. "Could you bring him to me, I want to see him before…" She swallowed and buried her face in her palms, sobbing.
The doctor nodded and left. It was as if a weight had been placed on his chest. Rasler then turned to his wife, overcome with shock and grief. He wiped the tears off her cheeks, and leaned in and wrapped an arm around her waist. It was not time for him to grieve, there would be time later, she needed him now, and he would do his best to take care of her. One day she would no longer have to suffer so, and he would be the one to see to that. He stroked her hair in silence at a loss of words of comfort. The minutes passed by, feeling as if they were coming to a stop. The past night's events had left his wife broken; when she recovered, he feared that she would no longer be the same due to the loss. He rocked her gently in a futile attempt to offer comfort and solace; at this point, she was inconsolable.
The wheels of the incubator squeaked as the nurse pushed it into the room. "Here he is." She said softly, while handing the infant to Ashe. She cradled him in her arms and planted a kiss upon his forehead. It was a sight and experience that should have been joyful; but the impending fate of their infant removed any and all joy from the room. Rasler leaned back and placed his arm around her waist, staying close enough to offer comfort when needed. She shifted the loose gown and offered her son her swollen breast, he did not respond.
"He's not… feeding."
The nurse looked up. "No one's told you? He doesn't have the reflex to feed himself yet. I'm sorry." She then sunk to the back of the room.
Rasler watched silently as Ashe cradled their son, for the last time her tears streamed down her cheeks, landing on his blankets. "I'm sorry it has to be this way. I had hoped for a bright future together, I wanted to see you grow, and follow your father and grandfather's footsteps. You had given us hope that one day we would one day live freely without war." She broke down into sobs. He reached for her and placed his hand on her forearm. How he wished that he could do something to stop both of their suffering, but there was nothing he could do other than offer comfort and reassurance.
She swallowed, and then began to speak in between sobs, "I love you…I never wanted it to be this way. Despite what may happen after this, I want you to know that we both love you and that we will always remember you and keep your memory in our hearts." She took in a deep breath and planted a kiss on his forehead. "Oh my little Raminas, I wish I could have known you not as you were, but as you could have been. I pray that where you find yourself after all this that you are happy. Your grandparents shall watch over you and they will be quite happy to see you." Her fingers traced the outline of his tiny fragile face. Through her tears, Ashe managed a small smile. "While you were here, you've brought me so much joy, and I thank you for that."
He swallowed and looked over his wife; the pain of the whole ordeal was evident in her downcast eyes. Part of him wanted it all to end right there, to have her happy and safe at home, but he was powerless to do so. Like at the siege in Nalbina, or when his father-in-law met his end at the hands of a traitor, he did not have to power to prevent it from happening only able to watch their after effects wreak havoc on loved ones, and his people. A true leader would never let himself sit as everything around him fell apart, he was unworthy to be king, or even Ashelia's king/prince consort. He was unworthy of his wife who fought daily in hopes that one day she may free her own people from the oppression of the empire, while he nearly crippled, still trained to regain the strength he lost in his leg. Even now she fought, hours after giving birth, to stay alive so that one day she could see to it that Dalmasca was free.
Rasler lifted his hand, and reached out stroking his son's cheek. It was still shocking to see how small his son compared to his mother, he was a tiny thing less than half the length of Ashe's forearm, and made even smaller by the bundle of blankets he was wrapped in. He could only wonder if Raminas as Ashe had named him was as fragile as he appeared, he had certainly seen children before, but never any who had been born this much before its proper time.
Ashe looked up at him, her eyes still and gave a very slight nod. "I think that your father would like to see you." She handed him their child, who still slept quietly despite the activity around him and the room.
He took a long look at his son for the first time since his birth. The boy seemed even tinier in his arms; he was barely any larger than his hand. He was so fragile that it seemed as if one wrong move would cause horrible injuries. "I-I'm sorry." He paused to compose himself, words escaped him but he continued his voice trembling as he spoke. "We'll both miss you, and we love you. I just wanted you to know that." His gaze shifted to Ashe, who looked down at her folded hands, her eyes closed. There was much he wanted to say, and there was no way of verbalizing them. He felt a twinge of regret at the pit of his stomach; if he had paid more attention, and was stronger, they would not be here. He swallowed; it was not time to wallow in regret or anger he had to be there for Ashe. After taking one last look, he handed their son back to Ashe.
She cradled him, and looked down upon him, once again. Every one of her movements was slow and deliberate as if she were taking in every moment. It was understandable, as their child's life was running out right before their eyes. Ashe took in every detail, pausing occasionally to stroke or kiss his cheek, or hand. Time seemed to slow down, as she went through the sort of improvised ritual of affection, bonding, and departing. He watched her quietly letting her do what she felt she needed to. It was a sad sight watching a mother both welcoming and preparing herself for his demise. She said nothing, letting her actions speak for her.
Eventually their son little Raminas, as they would later refer to him, passed away quietly in his mother's arms. Ashe kissed him goodbye one last time, before the nurse whisked him away and pronounced him dead. Her eyes followed the nurse as she left the room, immediately she burst into tears. Rasler rushed over handkerchief in hand, and wiped the tears off her face. "It's not fair. For once, I had hoped that something was finally going well in our lives, but no he's ripped away from me the moment I finally find peace and happiness…It's not fair."
He wrapped his arms around her, and let her rest her head on his chest. Part of him wanted to join her, another part wanted to go out and find that damned imperial soldier who did this to Ashe, but he could do neither he simply had to be strong and be there for her. He rocked her gently, her tears dampening his shirt. "I know, Ashe. I know. It pains me too… But I'm here for you, and I'm never leaving your side. I can promise you that."
"Thank you." She whispered, between sobs.
"There's no need to."
0o0
Ashe buried herself in her husband's shirt, for the first time months sobbing hysterically. She was grateful that they were alone, and that her husband was willing to offer comfort and consolation. If it were another man, she would be left alone to deal with the aftermath herself.
Never in her life has she felt such unbearable pain. She had been given various medications and tinctures to relieve it, but they waxed and weaned with the hours. Every muscle in her body ached in protest of the blows they received, while the stitches along her lower stomach burned and stung with every movement. Not to mention her breast were incredibly sore and swollen. Her energy had been drained with every single ounce of blood she lost, leaving her impossibly weak and tired. Never in her years had she suffered such physical pain, but that did not even compare to the emotional pain of losing her first child.
She felt cheated, ever since she could recall she was told of the children that she would one-day bear, not only for her future husband but also for Dalmasca and her royal family. Her son meant everything to her and her husband, he was her, no, their hope for a brighter future in which they would free their people and restore the throne. It was unfair, she and her husband had lost everything in the war, and the one person who had brought them joy, was ripped away from them prematurely. Ashe felt empty, as if a void had suddenly been torn into her heart.
If she could have only done something, she would not be here laying in pool of her blood. If she had only stayed home that night, or at least ignored her craving for sweets, even visiting a different shop would have made all the difference. If she had only been strong enough to fight him off, or fast enough to run away. So many things she could have done prevent her son from dying and yet he still managed to slip away in her arms. Had she been too rash in her decision to have a child, or was this some sort of retribution for letting herself become pregnant during a time of poverty and war. Was she simply never meant to be a mother, or had she simply not helped and encourage the resistance army enough. She had done everything correctly, she stayed faithful to her husband and family, she never overexerted herself, and she took great care with what she ate. It simply was not fair. Oh, she would give anything to have little Raminas alive in her arms or in her womb once again.
Rasler tilted Ashe's head up and planted a light kiss upon her forehead, his hands gently rubbed against her back in an attempt to soothe her. She was glad that she married him, his devotion to her and kindness were unparalleled. How many men would stay for hours at their wife's beside, and console her as she wept uncontrollably over the loss of their child? She would have no other.