This child would be the death of her, Meg was sure of it. She’d been beaten in battle, she’d been burned in the pit of Helovia’s Heart but always before the fit of fury had been enough to ride out such temporary hurts. What were flames and striking hooves when righteous anger surged in your heart? But this was a very different kind of battle, one that Megaera had yearned for and had dreaded. When the pain came, she found no anger to mask it, no fury pumping adrenaline in her veins; she only found worry that was all the more potent because it swung in and out of her mind right along with elation and excitement. 

She loved this child, her child, though she had yet to look on its face. From the first moment she had felt the stirring of life inside her, first noticed the growing swell of her sides, the love burst into her heart. It was easy to recognize. Though she had never before grown a babe in her womb, she had been a mother for one whole, glorious year already. The love she had for Mordecai was no more or less then what had grown in the mare’s heart for this new life, and every day it was a marvel to Meg that her heart did not burst from it. 

But for Megaera, where there was love there was always fear. Always… The fear of loosing and  of being lost; fear of threats seen and unseen and the possibility that she might be unable to shield those she loved from all harm. And she felt the fear now… The end of her pregnancy had been difficult, and she had been surprised every day that her belly kept on growing. It was too big, she knew it. The mare might not have had much experience in these matters but she could not ignore the whispers in her mind. The child was too big for her, Einarr’s child was too strong, too robust for her small frame. It had grown too big too fast, something was different, something was very very wrong. For weeks she had tried to keep occupied, tried to push these thoughts aside, but the hormones had her emotions running riot and too often we she found a quiet moment her inexperience crept up to haunt her. What if she couldn’t do this, what if she failed him? He was strong and beautiful and magnificent and she was small and weak and small and small and small and small and small. She was’t good enough. If something happened, if something went wrong, how could she face him? How could she face herself?

No… she would think to herself, No Megaera. You have never been weak! Like a pendulum swinsg, so fell away doubt so many times every day and she found her confidence again as well as her joy. So many times she pictured the child, healthy and strong standing beside her, and couldn’t stop grinning like a cat in cream. She remembered the feeling of little Mordecai against her in those sweet and tender moments that seemed lost now. Her adopted daughter had grown far to big and independent for such frequent cuddles, and though Meg was proud of the young mare she was becoming, that time had been so precious and she was giddy with the thought of experiencing those feelings again. She imagined a hundred different possibilities, soft little wings, and pretty little dark faces, and each one so beautiful, so very very dear. Megaera’s fiery heart always a gooey puddle when it came to her child…her children!

And so her emotions found their peaks and valleys in quick enough succession, rendering the poor fat lump of a mare a veritable wreck. For the past two days the sociable Sultana had been avoiding contact with everyone, often snapping at anyone she came across for any trifling offense and sending a snap of her teeth at anything that tried to touch her swollen belly. The support of Gwaihir was an inexorable comfort though she caught herself snapping at him as often as whining to him. His patience was only ever afforded to his bonded but hot her it was endless, though he had learned to stay out of reach of her teeth lately and avoided his usual perch on her back. He really couldn’t blame her, feeling enough of what she felt to know just how uncomfortable she was. When she withdrew into a secluded and shady part of the oasis he remained close by.

The hours of the night seemed to stretch on and she knew her time was near. The little clearing she had found near the lake was surrounded by palms and the heat of talon had not yet crisped away the covering of grass yet so the ground was lush and soft. For hours, she paced. Lying down and standing up again time and again but she found no position what was at all comfortable. Every few minutes she reached for her aching sides as her muscles contracted, craning her neck but still barely able to touch her nose to the rounded flesh. Finally, in the hour before the dawn she lowered herself and the true battle began.

- - - - - - -

The boy came first, and for a few blissful seconds Meg had thought her work done before the muscles in her abdomen seized again and in a matter of minutes his twin sister followed.  By some miracle both came forth healthy as could be and Megaera could not remember a more beautiful sight than the twins laying side by side, warm and safe. She shifted so they lay at her front, but was still too fatigued to make herself stand. For long minutes that seemed like hours she was held in rapture by the two little bodies. “Two…Two!" she murmured with a gentle laugh, well that explained why she had been so fat, she thought wryly. ”Einarr, aren’t they beautiful? So beautiful...” She glanced around as she whispered for the stallion, not even knowing if he’d come in time to see them, but her eyes were quickly drawn back to the two little bodies. She moved her face over each or them in turn, cleaning, warming, caressing, breathing in their air and blowing her own scent into their tiny, perfect little noses. If behind her the ground was stained with more blood that it ought to, the darkness of night masked it, or at least the Meg did not notice.

It didn’t take long for her to drift. Meg would have given everything for her children in an instant but it seemed she already had. The twins had come into the world against the greatest of odds, both healthy and robust; the blood of the Warden and The Sunspear. Meg had given them her strength and kept none for herself. Her eyelids began to droop slowly, and each movement she made became slow, lethargic. In the branches above Gwaihir gave and almighty screech as he finally separated the pain of his Meg from what it should of been and realized it to be far far worse. Ha descended from the branches, hopping to the side of Megaera’s neck and pecking at it in evident distress. Not even their link could penetrate her growing delirium and instead of responding to the Eagles peals only smiled sleepily at him. She kept murmuring reassurances to the foals and the agitated bird but even her quiet words slurred and then stopped as her head slipped down to lay between the babes and Meg slipped, slowly, out of consciousness. Gwaihir gave another scream and pecked furiously at the bay’s neck and buffeted her with his wings, trying to wake her but even he began to slow. The pull that dragged at Megaera had caught him it its grasp as well and finally his head fell against her. Valiantly, he tried to fight, but he was so tired, so very tired and his angry screeches faded only to mournful trills.


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[ooc// Nizho and Asavvi are heeeeeeere!!! If someone wants to make sure Meg doesn't actually die from internal bleeding, that would be greeeeaaaat.] @Einarr