The First

First born but last in line, Princess Mithian was never one for rules and regulations. A tomboy at heart, she hated the petticoats and etiquette her family would force her into. She always has her own ideas, and always knows what she wants.

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Guess who's seen the royal baby?

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A Nephew || Mithian and Isla

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Isla didn’t think much of Mithian when she cut off, not knowing that she would’ve said Not since I ran away. She had been so caught up in the baby’s eyes, the exact copy of her own, that she hadn’t really paid much attention to what her sister had said.

She looked up, though, and looked at her sister properly for the first time. She had always been a wildchild with little care for her appearance, but this was an all new look. She really wasn’t trying to look like a commoner this time; actually, she /was/ a commoner now. She wore trousers, which even in Narnia was an odd sight for anyone to see, but Mithian had always preferred trousers over dresses. It was more practical when running and climbing, however, so Isla saw the sense in wearing it whilst climbing up a castle wall.

"How did you sneak past the guards?" The thought was quite worrying. Once when they were curled up in bed together with his arms wrapped around her, Peter had told her of assassins bursting through his chamber windows and attempting to take his and King Edmund’s lives. Of course, Peter and Edmund had fought them off, but Peter had lost a cat in his kingsguard and another had turned traitor. Isla had stayed away from the windows that night, and might not have slept if she didn’t feel safe in Peter’s arms.

Suddenly, Isla felt a tug on her hair and she hissed in pain before carefully uncurling Tommen’s little fist from her hair. She pushed her hair back and gave him her little finger, instead. “He holds onto anything he can," She told her sister, a slight smile playing at her lips as she looked back down at him. “He doesn’t like staying in the cot for too long, either." She frowned and looked up at her. “I can’t leave my bed, let alone my room. And I hardly ever know if he’s too hot or too cold - most of the time he cries because he’s too cold, since he can’t help warm himself like we can…" She sighed and closed her eyes before opening them again. “I feel so tired, Mith. If you took him from me now and I knew he was safe, I could fall asleep in seconds. Even speaking hurts my throat."

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She thought Isla might ask that; she was almost unwilling to answer. But then again, she knew Isla would most likely disapprove no matter what she said. "I climbed over the back wall, around the gardens." She told her. "Took a lot of careful planning. I've been watching this place for days." She added the last part in a whisper. She would have continued to watch if she hadn't known that the baby had arrived. She had had to time the guards each day, and try to remember when they would be passing the spot she planned to jump. "I was told to try bribery, but that was too risky."

She blinked a little in shock at the hiss that escaped her sister's lips. She wondered if she was in pain. If it was whatever illness that had took her causing her to cry out. But then she noticed Isla uncurling his tiny hand from her hair, and she gave a soft smile. She knew it would have hurt, but it was too cute for her not to smile at. "Instinct." She murmured, looking from the baby to Isla. Tristan had told her that. He had known all about babies, surprisingly. She had asked him what she should expect from her nephew, and he had told her everything. The gripping thing was something he had told her about. She held her little finger towards his other hand, wondering.

"I wouldn't like it either," She murmured, looking up at Isla with a small grin. The cot really was so far away from the bed; it as no wonder the baby cried. He probably didn't like being so far away from his mother. Maybe he felt lonely. She would cry too, in which case. It was quite understandable. A frown grew on her face as Isla spoke; she could hear the frustration in her voice. She sighed. It probably wouldn't have been a problem if the cot was closer, but it was on the other side room. "I'll move it over here, don't you worry." She grumbled.

"What's wrong, Isla?" She asked, placing her hand over her sister's. "Do they know what's wrong?" Her sister looked so ill. So tired. Mithian pressed her lips into a thin line out of worry,a lump forming in her throat. She had expected to see Isla up and smiling, stood over the cot or holding the baby by the window. She hadn't expected this.

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A Nephew || Mithian and Isla

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Isla took the child in her arms carefully, familiar with how to do it but still nervous that she’d do something wrong. She tried to avoid Mithian’s gaze, knowing how shocking this all must be to her; her sister’s reaction to what she looked like had been enough to remind Isla how ill she really looked. She rocked the baby in her arms, remembering what her mother had once told her when Tomas had started crying one time when Isla was holding him and Isla had panicked. Try not to panic, her mother had told her, and Isla rocked the baby calmly in her arms, waiting for the crying to stop. Soon enough, the cries began to weaken, and they were reduced to quiet whimpers. If you panic, it only makes the situation worse.

There was truth in that. She had panicked the first time the baby had cried, not being able to stop him until she finally just rocked him and held him for a little bit. Sometimes Isla felt like she should be doing more, but what was there? She couldn’t leave this room physically, and for her own health; she was too weak and it was too dangerous for her to leave. When Peter took him to the celebrations to show him off briefly, that would do him some good, she supposed. Peter would be careful with him. He had shown that in the way he had held him the night before.

Isla leaned back, a sigh of relief escaping her lips once the baby had stopped. She raised her tired eyes to look at Mithian, who was perched on the side of the bed. She smiled ever so slightly, a weak smile with her eyes half closed. “I can tell you weren’t the one to train in Calormen," She joked, even when in ill-health. “The first time I scaled a wall, I almost fell to my death." She remembered it clearly, but she had clung to one of the things sticking out of the tower walls that she had climbed up before, and continued climbing. She looked down at the newborn babe in her arms and stroked some of his fine hair back. “Now it seems I’m not too far away from there again."

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Mithian couldn't decide who to focus her attention on - the baby or her sister. They both provided pretty good arguments. The baby was so tiny, so cute, even though he wailed incessantly. She had never had a nephew before. She had had young brothers, but that had been different. This baby wouldn't be around all of the time. She didn't want to look away in case she missed something. He looked like Isla. But she could see her brother-in-law too, in his tiny features. He was gorgeous. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but this hadn't been it.

But then there was her sister. So thin, so frail looking, as if she would simply beak if Mithian got too close, like her arms would snap with the weight of the child she put into them. Her skin was the colour of milk, drained of life, so unusual to Mithian. The bags under her eyes were deep and purple, so strange on her skin; they looked as if they'd been painted on, so different to her usual healthy skin. Mithian was worried that if she looked away, Isla would get worse. She didn't know how she was going to be able to leave, now. Not with her sister in such a condition. And not with a nephew so adorable.

A small smile grew on her lips as the child's wailing stopped. Isla was good with babies. She always had been. A lot better than Mithian; she could be quiet prone to dropping them. She laughed a little; she realised she still had the rope tied around her waist. Well, she thought. She'd need it to get back down anyways. Might as well leave it there. "I've had a bit of practise since then." She grinned. "That hasn't been my first wall. Not since I ran-" She stopped. She didn't want to talk about her leaving today. She followed Isla's gaze to the baby in her arms. "He's beautiful." She smiled.

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A Nephew || Mithian and Isla

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It wasn’t the loud crash that made Isla’s eyes open, but the baby’s sudden cries after.

Isla gasped and sat up, her head spinning from the gesture. When she moved to look in the direction that the sound had come from, she squinted from the morning rays and moved her hand to her face to block them out. What she didn’t expect to see was her sister on her front on the floor, with a rope tied around her waist. It was all rather hectic, with the baby crying, obviously alarmed from the sudden sound, Isla’s head pounding and her sister on the floor.

A guard pounded on the door and asked if everything was all right, but she quickly dismissed his worry with a croaky voice. She quickly took the goblet of water next to her bed and downed it all, ignoring that it was from the leftover night. With all the energy she could muster, she pushed aside the bedsheets, not knowing who to address first.

“Mith,” She greeted her sister, Isla’s voice a mix of relief and worry. She had heard that Mith had gone missing from Archenland, but she had had a feeling that she was in safe hands. Mith would never let herself get into too much trouble. “Please. Bring him to me.” She didn’t know if she had the energy to walk. If they wouldn’t let her breastfeed her own son because of how weak she was, she wasn’t sure if she could walk.

Isla had gotten so used to how she was feeling that she didn’t realise how much of a shock it must be for Mithian to see her as she was; her hair was dishevelled, there were dark patches under her eyes, her skin was as pale as a dead man’s and she looked worn out. She wouldn’t have asked Mithian to bring him to her if she knew Mithian didn’t know how, but she had held their brother Tomas so many times when they were younger that she must have remembered something. Isla had been better at it and got the knack quicker, but Mithian had grasped it eventually. Her head pounded from the babe’s screams and the sunlight too, the light from the now open curtains hurting her eyes.

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The cries that echoed around the room when Mithian had made her entrance caused her to curse a little under her breath. She clambered to her feet, dusting herself. The crying may have been loud, may have been annoying, maybe have been attracting attention to her most likely unwelcome presence, but it fascinated her. The crying wasn't just crying. It was the crying from her nephew.

But the guard at the door, alerted by the crying, made her heart jump into her mouth. She stopped, standing stock still, like a dear cart in the way of a cart, too stunned to move. She blinked a little. She wondered if, perhaps, she should run. Hide. She could see the frame of her sister in her bed, but she had yet to look at her properly, too caught up in her dramatic entrance to be able to focus on her. When Isla dismissed him, she exhaled in a gust.

"Isla." She murmured, a smile gracing her lips. And then she stopped. She took a proper look at her sister. A hand flew up to her mouth, and tears pricked her eyes. She looked ill. Ill being an understatement. She looked as if she were on death's doorstep, and as she looked at her, Mithian felt a stabbing pain in her stomach. Worry. Yet again. "Isla?" She repeated, her voice sounding thick from tears. She had been away for too long. She should never left hr home. If she hadn't of left, she could have been by Isla's side, to help her through whatever illness was gripping her. 

She nodded, doing as Isla asked almost immediately, only pausing for a second to tear her eyes away from her sick looking sister to the baby. "Of course, of course." She nodded, taking a few quick steps towards the infant, who still wailed loudly. He was tiny, she thought. She picked him up slowly, carefully, tucking him into the crook of her arm and cradling him there. She could barely remember holding her brother, but she could remember that this was how you did it. She dredged the memory up just to be sure she was doing it properly. She carried the baby carefully over to her sister, sitting herself down on the edge of her bed and holding the child out to her.

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A Nephew || Mithian and Isla

Maybe it would have been easier if she'd just turned herself over to the Narnian royalty, told them that yes, here she was, Princess Mithian, home at last. Maybe then we could have gained information about her nephew more quickly; maybe then he could have been one of the first people to see the new child. Maybe then she wouldn't be out here in the broad daylight, scaling the castle walls with some borrowed rope and hoping to Aslan that she had the right room. Because if not, well, she really was in a lot of trouble. A rather a lot of trouble.

She had been on tenterhooks for days, weeks, even, over the birth of this new baby. Tristan didn't dare mention it in the house for fear of setting her off in a fit of worry, or anxiety, or sometimes even rage that they weren't being a bit more open with how much information they were supplying the commoners with. She had been nonchalantly asking about it for days; she had seen the dancing in the streets and the toasts that would happen almost regularly in the taverns to the birth of a healthy baby boy, should such a birth occur. The people of Narnia never tired in the celebrations, and they continued in their partying for what was seemingly a very long time. Mithian, in that time, had gotten impatient. She demanded to know why the palace hadn't told them anything yet, because obviously Isla had had the baby by now, and really, their subjects should know about the arrival of the child.

She huffed a little as she pulled herself up the rope, half out of exhaustion and half out of anger at the whole situation. She put that thought out of her mind. She didn't want to clamber into Isla's chambers and start an argument. No. She just wanted to see the baby. Her nephew. She always knew that Isla would be the first of the two of them to get married and have children, but really, she hadn't been expecting things to happen so quickly. Excitement began to creep up on her as she reached the window. It was open, but only slightly, not properly shut from the last time it had been opened. She prised her fingers around the edge of it, feeling them sting slightly at the pressure. And then she pulled the window open, clattering into the room head first.

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Anymore news on the royal baby?

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I am afraid not, Milady, though the Princess Consort is in labour right now.

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Ah, yes, I heard. But no baby yet, then?

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Anymore news on the royal baby?

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Matt took a deep breath and closed the curtains, liking the dark much better than the light. It was too bright, and he didn’t like the impending summer, or the summer feel that was beginning to gather in people’s heads. There would be festivals soon… but festivals meant an easier way to get away with murder. But potentially more witnesses, as well. Ah, well… if he took someone into an alleyway, they might just think they were doing something… else. “Belle and I are part of something very big which the Pevensies must never know about, or we’ll both be beheaded. We’re trying to stop it.” He folded his arms and stared at her, one of those stares which went right through you. It would feel like he was staring into her soul.

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The darkness made Mithian wonder what it was that he had to tell her - it must have been something so secretive; no wonder he hadn't wanted to tell her. It only convinced her further, however, that it was something bad, something that maybe she didn't want to know anyways. But then again, she thought, she had to know. She needed to know. She would know. She watched him carefully as he spoke - Tristan had been teaching her to read body language, a thing she had been completely oblivious to before. But when Matt gave her that stare she was forced to look away, to look to the corner of the room for a minute. It wasn't a cold stare, exactly, but it made her feel uneasy. She let out a low whistle, and looked back to him. "That big?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. She folded her arms, too. "Part of what?"

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ooc: if anyone can remember what my skype name is/was lease tell me so that i can log in because omg

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ooc: so i'm a bad person and i'm inactive already HOWEVER this is my last week of exams and i only have three left and oh lordy just bear with me

and also um tia mithian is sneaking into isla's chambers to see that lil nephew of hers when isla's popped it out k? k.

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Matt rolled his eyes as soon as her back was turned to him and closed the door behind him, trying not to slam it. He was suddenly filled with anger, but he had to hold it in and act calm around her. He would just act displeased and unhappy that he was telling her this, was all. That was all he would do. Matt shoved past her, though carefully, and made his way to a table in the lounge in front of the fireplace. It was where he and Belle had talked a while ago. He moved to the window to make sure they hadn’t been followed. “I trust this will fit to your needs, Princess?” Matt teased, keeping his eyes on the window.

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Mithian took a few steps into the room and then surveyed it, casting her eyes around it. It didn't seem to shabby. She wondered what - or who's - it was. She folded her arms across her chest, and allowed a smile to play at the corner of her lip. "It'll suffice." She said. She cast her eyes around the room once before asking, "So what's this all about?"

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Narnia seems quiet.

[thelittleseamstress]

Oh, indeed. It has been for the past nine months! *grins*  

Some people even believe the princess might be having twins.

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As it should be! It's quite the event.

Really? Well now, that would be interesting.

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ooc: ugh sorry i wasn't on at all yesterday i watched both star trek movies and cried

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Matt kept walking, never speaking a word, until he reached where he wanted to get to. He was almost sure Brynjolf had forgotten about this place… Brynjolf, who he hadn’t seen in a very, very long time. Surely he would be worrying about him by now? But the walk there had given him time to think of something to tell her. He considered chaining her up or something, which he would have no problem doing, but she knew who he was… that wouldn’t do well. He pulled a key from one of the many pockets within his armour and unlocked the door to Brynjolf’s house. It was fit for a nobleman. “Ladies first,” Matt mused, a cheeky smirk on his lips as he looked at her. She would not like to be called a Lady.

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Mithian followed him without questioning where he was going - she was too busy wondering about what he had meant. What about Belle? She knew Belle was close to Isla, and that was enough to intrigue her. She took in the house they were walking towards and decided it looked pretty decent; not unsafe. She began to scowl at him when he called her a lady - she'd been anything but for the past few weeks - but then she smiled, being sure to fill it with venom. "Thank you." She replied, stepping inside and flicking her braid over her shoulder. 

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Narnia seems quiet.

[thelittleseamstress]

Thank you ma’am. Yes my sister and the baby are both perfectly fine. She gave birth to a healthy baby boy. We were all very excited for her.

*smiles* Well I certainly hope so! There are many people who are eagerly anticipating the birth of High King Peter’s son or daughter. It’s all anyone’s talked about as of late.

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Well, that's good to hear. All the best for the both of them.

I'm sure there are - an heir so soon into the marriage is quite an achievement! Oh, well, I'm sure it's the talk of the town.

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ooc: ugh sorry for not being on today - i woke up at 1 and had to go out at 2 and just got back and ugh no

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Narnia seems quiet.

[thelittleseamstress]

Yes ma’am. It’s summer. This is usually the time where a lot of babies are born. Most families spend their time inside with the mother. My sister actually had a baby the other day.

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Ohh, I see. I suppose people stay in more in winter, so it makes sense. Oh, she did? Well, congratulations. I hope everything's well with it and the mother?

I wonder, then, if summer is the time for babies, whether the princess consort will be delivering soon.