The end days of summer on the Summer Isle. It was a beautiful time, and a fruitful one, too, when the harvests were being brought in and the animals chosen for the slaughter, their meat cured to last through winter. And in the midst of it all, proof made flesh that a former angel was more than capable of reproducing.
Rachel was showing off quite the lung capacity as she struggled through labor, gripping tightly to Zach's hands as she panted and puffed. Tears of frustration and weariness trickled down her hot cheeks as she pushed on command, knowing only too well that her brother was downstairs with his own wife and daughter, all but barring the door to any other visitors while innocent and angel worked to bring their first son into the world.
For some reason, Rachel had thought The Lady would be there for her first birth, but perhaps it was not so strange that she had not chosen to attend. After all, this son would not give birth to the next Lady of Avalon. Unfortunately, that meant that Helene, the First Handmaiden, was the one in charge, and she was nowhere near as calming as The Lady would have been.
It was times like this that Zach wished he was still an angel, though if he was, he wouldn't be able to have a child, Rachel wouldn't be pregnant, and he wouldn't be wishing he was an angel. It was a perplexing thought, but one he didn't really have the luxury of thinking about very long, especially when Rachel seemed to be having difficulty. He had witnessed countless births during his long existence, but none had ever seemed so important as this one. Nevertheless, he drew comfort from the fact that the Lady had foreseen this birth and had assured them their son would be well.
"That's it, that's it!" Helene exclaimed at long last, a tired smile on her ageless face. "Not much more now, I promise you. I have his head in my hand."
Sobbing, Rachel whimpered, adjusting her grip on Zach's hand. "It hurts," she whined brokenly, though she was allowed to whine a little after several hours of this already.
Zach's face lit up as he realized their son was nearly born and his wife's pain was nearly at an end. "One more push, Rachel, and our son will be born. I promise you!" he encouraged, full of excitement for the birth of their son, but anxiety at the amount of pain it was causing her to birth him. With her hands in his, he tried to will her what little bit of comfort he could, some small remnant of angelic grace that might make this last bit of labor easier for her.
However he did it, she felt some flood of new strength fill her, enough to fuel that last push and fill their home with the sound of her yell as their son, finally, was born. No doubt Natalya was having to restrain Rhys in the rooms below, but as Rachel fell back against the pillows, breathless and weeping with relief, a new voice began to wail, thin and reedy, and exceedingly put out with his new surroundings.
"A boy," Helene told them, the magic of Avalon enough to wash and dry the child, and deal with the aftermath of birth in just a few moments. "You have a healthy son."
Though the news of a son came as no great surprise to Zach, the look on his face betrayed his elation, eyes that were now mortal filled with tears of happiness. "A son, Rachel. We have a son," he told her, kissing the tears from her face and laughing with the joy of it.
"It took us long enough," his exhausted wife gasped, pushing herself up onto her elbows to watch as Helene passed their firstborn son into his father's arms.
"Hold him a while, Zachariel," the First told him gently. "We must see to your wife."
Though more magic was involved, "seeing to" Rachel also involved a fair amount of movement, leaving the newborn boy safe in his father's arms for the time it took to see her settled and comfortable once again, the worst damage of the labor swept away by the grace of The Lady.
Zach was only too happy to be the first to greet his son, distracted as he was from his worries about Rachel by the squirming bundle Helene had thrust into his arms. "Are they always so small as this?" he asked, looking down at his son with a look of wonder in his eyes, despite having witnessed countless births since the Dawn of Man.
Another Handmaiden, who had come as assistant, smiled over at the new father as she bundled soiled cloth together to hide the blood that had been spilled. "Sometimes they are bigger, sometimes smaller," she told him. "Your son is a little smaller than he would have been had he lasted in the womb until his mother was at full term, but he is healthy and strong. He will grow."
"He is beautiful," Zach replied quietly, more to himself than to anyone else in the room, only then remembering his wife. "Rachel, he's beautiful. He's a miracle."
"Then you should name him," Rachel said softly from where she lay. As Helene and the Handmaidens stepped away from the bed, they revealed his wife lying comfortably against plumped pillows, the sheets fresh, even her clothing clean and unsullied. The Lady's magic was kind to new mothers on Avalon. "Our firstborn son."
"Me?" Zach echoed, clearly stunned that she was trusting him with such an important decision. He knew many names, countless names, in fact - so many, it was difficult to pick the one that would perfectly fit a son that had only just been born and they did not know very well yet. Should they give him a knightly name or an angelic name or something else? "What do you think of Tristan?" he asked, remembering the story of the knight who had sacrificed his life on account of his love for a woman he could never have. The truth of the story had been lost to antiquity, though those of the Summer Isle still remembered it.
Rachel's smile gave him her answer before she spoke. "I like that name," she nodded, patting the bed beside her in invitation. "It's noble and strong and handsome, and he'll be all those things. How could he not be, with you for his father?"
Zach smiled radiantly, pleased with both her praise and with their son, as he settled himself beside her. The blood had not bothered him, as he'd seen such things before, though not from her. He was starting to understand how she must have felt when he'd had his wings severed from his back, but he did not want to think on that now. This was a happy moment, and he wanted to savor it for as long as possible. "And he will be good and kind and generous. How could he not be, with you for his mother?" And of course, it went without saying that he would be loved.
"He will be ours," she completed their small cycle of promises, leaning into him to brush a kiss against his cheek as she looked down at their son. "He's so small," she breathed, in awe of the mere fact that this little life had been inside her only an hour ago. There was a bark from outside the door as Helene and her assistant left, and a moment later, their dogs had burst into the room, bounding up onto the bed to lie with them, sniffing curiously at the newcomer to their family.
Rachel was showing off quite the lung capacity as she struggled through labor, gripping tightly to Zach's hands as she panted and puffed. Tears of frustration and weariness trickled down her hot cheeks as she pushed on command, knowing only too well that her brother was downstairs with his own wife and daughter, all but barring the door to any other visitors while innocent and angel worked to bring their first son into the world.
For some reason, Rachel had thought The Lady would be there for her first birth, but perhaps it was not so strange that she had not chosen to attend. After all, this son would not give birth to the next Lady of Avalon. Unfortunately, that meant that Helene, the First Handmaiden, was the one in charge, and she was nowhere near as calming as The Lady would have been.
It was times like this that Zach wished he was still an angel, though if he was, he wouldn't be able to have a child, Rachel wouldn't be pregnant, and he wouldn't be wishing he was an angel. It was a perplexing thought, but one he didn't really have the luxury of thinking about very long, especially when Rachel seemed to be having difficulty. He had witnessed countless births during his long existence, but none had ever seemed so important as this one. Nevertheless, he drew comfort from the fact that the Lady had foreseen this birth and had assured them their son would be well.
"That's it, that's it!" Helene exclaimed at long last, a tired smile on her ageless face. "Not much more now, I promise you. I have his head in my hand."
Sobbing, Rachel whimpered, adjusting her grip on Zach's hand. "It hurts," she whined brokenly, though she was allowed to whine a little after several hours of this already.
Zach's face lit up as he realized their son was nearly born and his wife's pain was nearly at an end. "One more push, Rachel, and our son will be born. I promise you!" he encouraged, full of excitement for the birth of their son, but anxiety at the amount of pain it was causing her to birth him. With her hands in his, he tried to will her what little bit of comfort he could, some small remnant of angelic grace that might make this last bit of labor easier for her.
However he did it, she felt some flood of new strength fill her, enough to fuel that last push and fill their home with the sound of her yell as their son, finally, was born. No doubt Natalya was having to restrain Rhys in the rooms below, but as Rachel fell back against the pillows, breathless and weeping with relief, a new voice began to wail, thin and reedy, and exceedingly put out with his new surroundings.
"A boy," Helene told them, the magic of Avalon enough to wash and dry the child, and deal with the aftermath of birth in just a few moments. "You have a healthy son."
Though the news of a son came as no great surprise to Zach, the look on his face betrayed his elation, eyes that were now mortal filled with tears of happiness. "A son, Rachel. We have a son," he told her, kissing the tears from her face and laughing with the joy of it.
"It took us long enough," his exhausted wife gasped, pushing herself up onto her elbows to watch as Helene passed their firstborn son into his father's arms.
"Hold him a while, Zachariel," the First told him gently. "We must see to your wife."
Though more magic was involved, "seeing to" Rachel also involved a fair amount of movement, leaving the newborn boy safe in his father's arms for the time it took to see her settled and comfortable once again, the worst damage of the labor swept away by the grace of The Lady.
Zach was only too happy to be the first to greet his son, distracted as he was from his worries about Rachel by the squirming bundle Helene had thrust into his arms. "Are they always so small as this?" he asked, looking down at his son with a look of wonder in his eyes, despite having witnessed countless births since the Dawn of Man.
Another Handmaiden, who had come as assistant, smiled over at the new father as she bundled soiled cloth together to hide the blood that had been spilled. "Sometimes they are bigger, sometimes smaller," she told him. "Your son is a little smaller than he would have been had he lasted in the womb until his mother was at full term, but he is healthy and strong. He will grow."
"He is beautiful," Zach replied quietly, more to himself than to anyone else in the room, only then remembering his wife. "Rachel, he's beautiful. He's a miracle."
"Then you should name him," Rachel said softly from where she lay. As Helene and the Handmaidens stepped away from the bed, they revealed his wife lying comfortably against plumped pillows, the sheets fresh, even her clothing clean and unsullied. The Lady's magic was kind to new mothers on Avalon. "Our firstborn son."
"Me?" Zach echoed, clearly stunned that she was trusting him with such an important decision. He knew many names, countless names, in fact - so many, it was difficult to pick the one that would perfectly fit a son that had only just been born and they did not know very well yet. Should they give him a knightly name or an angelic name or something else? "What do you think of Tristan?" he asked, remembering the story of the knight who had sacrificed his life on account of his love for a woman he could never have. The truth of the story had been lost to antiquity, though those of the Summer Isle still remembered it.
Rachel's smile gave him her answer before she spoke. "I like that name," she nodded, patting the bed beside her in invitation. "It's noble and strong and handsome, and he'll be all those things. How could he not be, with you for his father?"
Zach smiled radiantly, pleased with both her praise and with their son, as he settled himself beside her. The blood had not bothered him, as he'd seen such things before, though not from her. He was starting to understand how she must have felt when he'd had his wings severed from his back, but he did not want to think on that now. This was a happy moment, and he wanted to savor it for as long as possible. "And he will be good and kind and generous. How could he not be, with you for his mother?" And of course, it went without saying that he would be loved.
"He will be ours," she completed their small cycle of promises, leaning into him to brush a kiss against his cheek as she looked down at their son. "He's so small," she breathed, in awe of the mere fact that this little life had been inside her only an hour ago. There was a bark from outside the door as Helene and her assistant left, and a moment later, their dogs had burst into the room, bounding up onto the bed to lie with them, sniffing curiously at the newcomer to their family.