Lina: Twisted Fairy Tales Book Two

26: The Space Between Decisions

Honestly, watching someone give birth is one of the most horrifying spectacles.

My father helped my mother squat as she bore down, and seeing her body stretch as she shouted and strained was enough to make me want to avoid the whole matter of childbirth altogether. Quite ridiculously, the whole process seemed somehow worse than being injured in battle. Heavens only knew why she chose to keep doing it.

By the time the babe slipped free of her, covered in blood and other fluids, I was ready to swear off the whole reproductive process from start to finish and hide away from men for the rest of my life.

But then I saw her face as I placed my new sister in her arms. And the way my father looked down at them both. Then it occurred to me that maybe she had a reason to keep doing it. I sat on the foot of the bed, watching Papa hold Mama as she leaned against his chest, the new baby at her breast, a mess of linens, afterbirth and blood on the floor, and I wondered: Is this what they were like with me? Is this what it would be like for me?

The thoughts were chased from my head when the door slammed open and my grandmother stormed in. Her light-skinned face was flushed, her graying hair askew.

“Why do you never tell me when something like this is happening? I would like to be at my own grandchildren’s births, you know. Oh, hello Malina dear! Goodness, look at the state of you! Is this how you treat your eldest now that there’s a new infant? My grandmother demanded. I waited until she passed me and then slid from the bed as quietly as I could. Leaning around her, I widened my eyes at Papa and waved, pointing at grandmother, then me and shaking my head. He chuckled and nodded, much more accustomed to dealing with her tantrums than I. My mother was already rolling her eyes and arguing back while I slipped out of the door. The two had very similar personalities, it was no wonder they didn’t get along well. Of course, my grandmother had been held hostage during the war, and it had scarred her, physically and mentally. She had mostly recovered from her trauma before I was old enough to truly get to know her, so I’d only known her the way she was, not how she had been. However, Papa’s opinion was that she’d buried her pain under the brash personality to help put up a strong front. I tried to remember that when she was busy trying to make me into someone I wasn’t.

My grandmother was right about one thing though. I sighed as I looked down at myself. I needed a good washing up. Vaguely, I wondered if there was any water left in my room as I made my way there, passing my sister and one of the human Healers on the way. I grinned. Papa would have a fit over that. It also appeared Uncle Ty wasn’t able to intercept my brothers.

I groaned more loudly than the door as I shoved through the entrance to my rooms and discovered no bathwater was present in the tub. The pitcher of water was never going to be enough to completely cleanse me, and I was too tired to make my way downstairs to ask for more. Resigning myself to cleaning up as best I could, I made my way into the bathing chamber and scrubbed at my skin uselessly, then stripped out of my clothes. I was sore, filthy, tired and still hungry, plus I’d never gotten to speak with the Fae King. But as I collapsed backwards on my bed, staring at the ceiling, I lost all ability to care and found myself slipping into sleep.

Sometime later, I woke to realize it was quite late. Someone had been in to light the lamps, had  left dinner on a tray by the bed and when I visited the bathing chamber, I noted they refilled my water and left some in the tub. Sending up blessings to whichever person had done all this, I stripped out of the rest of my clothes and slipped into the water to bathe.

“Gods damn this cold, miserable water!” The sting of curses didn’t end until my body adjusted, skin pimpled like a plucked bird. I scrubbed swiftly and vigorously, and then forced myself to climb out with a sigh. It wasn’t the most satisfying bath, but at least I was clean.

I took my time drying off and redressing, and then sat on my bed, plunking the tray down in front of me. Cold meat, cheese and bread. Even colder vegetables plus some sort of preserved-berry cobbler. I started there. You can never go wrong with dessert, right?

I found my wandering while I chewed, and it seemed to settle on its favorite subject of late. The Fae King.

The way he held my hand to his chest and thanked me for saving him. When I’d found him in the woods, how he’d wanted to be sure I was alright. The way it felt to see him lying there, unable to breathe..

“Bah!” I threw my fork down on the tray, having only finished about half of my dinner. “You’re crazy if you think.. I mean he’s your abductor, and he’s completely deranged, besides!” I was up and pacing before I realized it, hands twisted in my hair. “Maybe Mama’s right and some sort of bond has been formed. It would make sense why I’m suddenly so..” I spun around “But no-that’s supposed to work the other way-he’s supposed to bond-”

“Malina? Pup?” A knock on my door silenced me, and I swallowed hard before answering Papa.

“Yes? I’m awake. You can come in.” I called weakly. The door cracked open and Papa peered around it as if looking for someone. His nostrils flared once or twice, and my gaze darted around swiftly too. “What is it?” I whispered hoarsely, and he straightened abruptly.

“I just thought.. It sounded like you were speaking with someone.” Papa remarked. I groaned, covering my eyes and flopping back on the bed.

“Just my own crazed self.” I complained and Papa opened the door enough to enter on silently padding feet. He was dressed much as I remembered him to dress as I was a child. A pair of breeches, but bare chested and barefooted. He looked like he had filled out a little more since my return, and for that I was grateful.

“Are you going on a run?” I asked, interest peaked. I could use one. Clear my head of anything but animal instinct. Papa shook his own head with a grimace as he sat on the bed beside me.

“No. Spent so much time in my grief as my animal before you came back, I almost got lost to it. I’m going to stick to this form for a little while, pup. There’s a lot keeping me here and I think I needed the reminder.” He smoothed my hair back from my face like I was still a young child, his large hand gently brushing over my scalp over and over. The move was soothing to me, sparking animal instincts related to family and pack bonding that had me relaxing slightly and calmed my soul.

“Now, what’s wrong with you, little pup? You smell distressed.” Papa’s eyes briefly bled yellow, but the love and kindness never diminished. It was a look of devotion he only ever held with his loved ones, and none so much as the look he gave Mama. His love for her shone like the brightest star on a moonless night. Just from his expression, you could tell he would do anything for her, had done anything, and would follow her until the ends of their lives or to the ends of the earth, whichever they reached first. Even when they argued, there was always this twinkle in his eyes, like he knew it was just a storm and it would pass, she just hadn't realized it yet. Secretly, I wanted someone to look at me like that. But I didn’t want it artificially. And I wasn’t sure I wanted it to be the Fae King at all.

I took a deep breath and opened my mouth, prepared to tell Papa everything tumbling around in my head.