And Baby Makes Three
A/N: Sooo 100% forgot to move this from Ao3. whoops! Anyway this was originallly written for @jurdannet‘s Jurdan week. Days 2: Pregnancy/labor.
"Breathe. Just breathe. Deep breaths. Everything is fine. It's fine. The baby is coming and-"
"CARDAN!" Jude shouted, hunched over the bed knuckles turning as pale as the moonlight gripping the spider silk sheets. She turned at him with a look of fear and agony on her mortal features, "Stop telling me to breathe!"
"I was talking to myself," he responded walking back and forth, a hand rummaging through his hair. His pace quickening with each step. Jude shot her husband a pointed look.
Suddenly she was there standing before him. How in Elfhame she moved so quickly in this state he couldn't say. Strands of her hair stuck to the sides of her face. Teeth bared and breathing ragged like some feral animal. By the rage in her amber eyes, he knew he said the wrong thing. Jude gripped his pristine night shirt, yanking him forward with a fierce tightness, he thought she would tear it off. If he was honest, Cardan wasn’t sure if he meant the shirt or his head.
“I meant us both, my sweet villain, my beautiful wife,” to no avail he tried to calm her and fix the situation.
"You" she hissed, "You did this to me. And you think-" She cried out in pain once more, practically collapsing in his arms.
Fighting off another contraction as the pain spread like wildfire and a hurricane merged inside her body. To her, it didn’t matter if the description made sense. It accurately portrayed her pain at the moment. Through the years, she had taken various poisons putting her in different stages of misery, sometimes making her feel as if she was close to death. The High Queen suffered cuts from swords and daggers again bringing her inches from death. None of it compared to now. This feeling of being torn in two from the inside. She wouldn’t have wished this on anyone, not even Balekin.
Her nails digging deep into Cardan's sleeve were more like sharpened claws. He was surprised she didn’t break through the fabric and draw blood. He held her up by her shoulders, quickly moving to where a hand laid at the swell of her back. Another on her hip as he guided Jude back to the bed. His tail gave away his thoughts, thrashing about nervously behind him. They had read books upon books about childbirth from faerie and the mortal realm. Taryn often gave her advice whether requested of the queen’s sister or not. Still with her contractions coming every four minutes all of that information seemed to leave his mind.
“Jude?” he questioned, concern laced in his tone, rubbing her back and settling her on the bed. He knelt before her reaching up and brushing sweaty strands from her face. Observing her with worry not knowing when the next contraction would hit.
Jude rested her head against his, “I want to drive a dagger into your heart. We’re never having sex again.”
Cardan placed a chaste kiss on her lips, “You know I would happily die by your hand,” he replied half teasing and half-serious. If anyone took him for this realm he hoped it would be her, “Jude, we’re in this situation because we hadn’t been intimate in four days. You pulled me in the small room next to our dais and had your way with me. This is-”
“Don’t finish that sentence!” she snapped, “Do you truly believe now is the time,” she winced, groaning in pain, “to correct me?” she paused biting down on her lip, reaching out, “I need to stand,” Jude wasted no second clutching onto him like Cardan was the only thing tethering her to this world. The soon to be parents were grateful this contraction was a fleeting pain of sharpness.
“I was only trying to make you laugh.”
Letting go, Cardan moved with urgency to the basin Tatterfell left of cool water, grabbing a cloth dipping it into the water. Pulling it out he twisted the cotton watching tirelessly as the droplets of water fell away. They’ve been at this for a few hours now. Both of them were exhausted beyond measure and neither knew how much more time was left. The High King and Queen only knew they would meet their bundle of joy soon. That made Cardan more nerve wreck than the labor itself.
Having a childhood as nonexistent as his own, he knew there were things he didn’t want for their child, and yet a fear consumed him that he would fall in step with his parent's behavior. He would try to evade it. For Jude and the prince or princess readying to meet them, he would try to be better than the Greenbriar's before him. Cardan turned briskly, stepping to Jude. Her arms now wrapped around the solid bronzed post of their bed. Gently he dabbed the sweat from her hairline then pressing the wet cloth to the nape of her neck. She hummed her thanks to him stretching her hand to his lone one. He slipped his fingers between hers squeezing gently.
“I know,” she said between breaths, “I’m sorry.”
“You’ve done nothing to be sorry for. You’re in labor,” pressing his lips to her knuckles. He noticed her far away stare, the glisten in her amber eyes, “Jude? Contraction?” she shook her head no, “What is it?”
“It’s nothing. I just-”
At that precise moment Tatterfell walked in a bucket of ice in her hands and The Bomb to her right. Her arms filled with towels, tools Cardan assumed aided birth, and sticks of honey. With a hard kick she shut the door behind them. For an elderly imp, Tatterfell moved about the room at a hasty pace. Grabbing the bassinet from the corner she pulled it closer to the bed. Another pain enduring moan came from Jude as she held onto Cardan. The Bomb laid the items next to the basin taking a honey stick with her. Tearing the top off with her teeth rushing to her friend’s side, offering her the stick. Jude took it sucking on the sweetness. It felt good to have something soothing her hoarse throat after screaming for hours. The Bomb and Cardan stroked Jude’s hair back. Tatterfell moved around them fluffing pillows for the queen.
“How far apart now and for how long?” She questioned pulling back the sheets, “lie her down.”
“Three minutes,” he replied, helping Jude to the bed as she sunk into the mattress below. The Bomb followed close behind with a new wet rag wiping it along Jude’s face.
“A missive has been sent to both of your sisters. No one else knows the Queen is in labor,” The Bomb finally spoke up, “Are you excited? Ready to meet the baby? I know better than to ask how you’re feeling.”
“Yes. I’ll be more excited when this part is over,” Jude smiled weakly. Her eyes met Cardan’s and the fearful look she gave him said no, I’m not ready. The expression almost broke him on the spot. Cardan offered a loving smile and a tender gaze as if he replied It’s okay. I’m here He had to be strong for once.
Tatterfell hopped up onto the bed, her long fingers reaching out pushing Jude’s nightgown back checking for any signs of the royal baby making its debut. She didn’t look up when she spoke up, “Your Majesty, I’m afraid now is the time I’ll have to request your leave. I’ll send for you when she’s ready.”
Cardan and Jude exchanged a look then glanced at the older imp, “I’m High King and that’s my wife. You will not pardon me from her while she’s in labor. I forbid it.”
Tatterfell waved at hand in his direction busying herself examining in between Jude’s thighs. He heard her huff out before responding, “If you have ears boy then you heard me say, your majesty. If you have eyes boy then clearly you know I tend to your wife daily. Have done so for years before you came along. King or no, it is a tradition of the land,” her coal eyes looked up at him. Though her gaze was strong and unrelenting, he could see the apology in her aged orbs, "Royalty blood matters not. Even before my time only the midwife, assistants, and the mother were allowed. If you're done with dramatics I have a baby to birth.”
Opening and closing his mouth several times looking between the three women. He wanted to stay by her side. To be with her every step of the way. Let her use his body to channel her pain. He wanted to tell off this bossy little imp. To say damn with traditions, they would start a new one here tonight. Cardan only needed a moment to gather his thoughts and tell this elder creature he was staying without breaking much attention from his darling wife. Until his beloved spoke up.
“Go,” Jude looked to the two women in their bedroom, “I’m in good hands," he looked at Jude in bewilderment.
Disbelieving she was encouraging this notion. She was a queen born from clay and mud. A mortal. Freed him from that cage of a serpent. Jude defied tradition at every turn. Yet here where it mattered most. His wife did not push. This was madness.
"Cardan, she will be fine. I promise," The bomb added. Resting a kind hand on his shoulder, sympathy displayed over her features
He was outnumbered and he hated it. He hated leaving her in this state. Knowing something was eating away at her made this situation worse. However, arguing with a pregnant woman in labor over a thousand-year-old tradition seemed unwise. For now he would begrudgingly bite his tongue and save the discussion for another day. Accepting defeat, the High King kissed his wife's temple.
"I'm there in the antechamber. Whatever you're worried about we will overcome it," Jude nodded, "I love you."
"And I love you."
He kissed once more on the temple, her lips, and down to her rather large, swollen belly. Moving away from the darkened silk sheets, he walked away from the room. Cardan turned to meet the gaze of his wife, a tired smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Briefly he watched Tatterfell and The Bomb busy about the room preparing it for delivering an heir.
No matter her agony, she couldn't shake the feeling of a mistake seeping into her bones. She was a stubborn woman. Often arguing or fighting, to get her away. In her current state, Jude lacked the ability to do so. Instead, watching helplessly from the bed as the one person she wanted in the room walked away, head lowered in defeat.
In the Antechamber, the pads of his feet walked over the lush violet rug at least a dozen times before falling into the velvet chaise behind him. Eyes flicking to the ceiling with intricate details of vines and florals painted throughout. He wondered why anyone would waste such time painting a place most hardly looked upon. Cardan switched between flexing his fingers and running his palms on his slacks. This wasn't right and it wasn't fair. The silence did nothing to quell his panic and anticipation.The High King sighed, folding his arms over his chest as the fear of what was happening settled into his mind.
A baby. They were having a baby. They would be responsible for a new life. Feeding, clothing, caring for it. Though Jude grew up in a rough childhood, she still had sisters who loved and cared for her. Orianna, who didn’t care for a mortal in her home still watched over her. Of course Madoc, in his way he truly and deeply cared for Jude like a daughter. No matter how twisted he was there. Cardan knew even now, with Madoc in the mortal realm her father’s heart held pride for Jude. There was more love and support in her life then he experienced. The King of Elfhame had no doubts his wife would be a wonderful mother to their child and any others if they were lucky. Him. He wasn’t sure. Now in this silence that fear ate away at him. Growing up with barely a glimmer of affection. He didn’t know if he could do this. To be a father and a good one at that. He knew he wanted to be better, but how to be? Cardan had no clue. And he was running out of time to figure it out.
The door opened with Taryn, The Ghost, and The Roach following close behind. Cardan couldn’t help but notice how close Taryn stood next to the Ghost. A bottle of open wine slammed down on the table before him, droplets in a vermillion hue splashed onto the green hand holding the neck.
“Drink,” was all The Roach said.
Cardan’s brows came up to his hairline, his coal eyes wide, “I’m having a baby,” he blinked thinking over his response, “I mean Jude is having a baby. I’m forced to be here. Apparently kings are not needed for the birth of their child. Regardless, Jude will have me dead if I drink that bottle.”
“Not the bottle. Just a drink. It will ease your nerves,” Roach grabbed a chair bringing it to the table, Ghost followed his actions, “I’m aware you can’t be in the room. It’s a tradition and you don’t want to break tradition. The Bomb told me you’d need a distraction. So here we are distracting.” reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a deck of cards, separating them into stacks as he started to shuffle.
Taryn’s hand rested on The Ghost’s shoulder. The half-fae turned up meeting her gaze. She held it for a beat before looking at Cardan, “I’m going in and checking on her. See if they need anything,” She turned away leaving the antechamber.
“Taryn gets to go and I, the High King cannot? Ah, mockery at its finest,” Cardan went to grab the bottle, before bringing it to his lips, he stared at the heavy glass. Thinking of Jude in the other room and their baby. Settling it back down to the Birchwood table, Cardan found he couldn’t bring himself to take a single drop.
*
Jude hated this. She hated everything about this situation. The unending pain. The potions gave to ease her, did little for her discomfort. It was as if she never took them. Tatterfell, The Bomb, and now Taryn practically groveling at her feet. She hated knowing that it was needed. For once in her life, Jude had to have all this support. Birthing a child wasn’t something she could do on her own, even the stubborn mortal queen knew that. Above all the thing she couldn’t stand was not having Cardan here. The antechamber felt like it was miles away from her bed. Jude tried to take comfort in his voice and his face that flooded in her mind every time she shut her eyes. She tried to imagine the feel of his warm hands and tender embrace. It didn’t help. Not this time. This time she wanted him, she needed him.
Her fingers twisted into the fabric, knuckles turning white as she screamed in agony. She couldn’t do this. There thousands of things in faerie the high queen could do. Birthing a child, being a mother were not such things Jude believed to be capable of. Fighting battles, settling conflicts, and politics she could do with her hands tied behind her back. Raising a baby, especially a royal heir felt impossible. She had a family growing up, more than what Cardan did. It wasn’t close to being a mother. Jude didn’t know how to be nurturing, her personal armor too strong for that level of tenderness. Taryn was a nurturer and a wonderful mother to her son. Vivi and even Oriana took loving care of Oak. Jude had no clue how to handle babies. Every time she visited Taryn, Jude tried her hardest to not hold her nephew. Terrified of holding him the wrong way, whenever he was shoved into her arms, he cried. No matter how much she rocked him, he cried and cried. It stung beyond any poison. Unlike Cardan
Cardan, she knew, would prevail in this endeavor of their life. With Taryn’s son, he always had him napping with ease, he could get him to coo for minutes at a time. When they ventured to the Mortal realm, Oak and Cardan did everything together. From Oak teaching video games to playgrounds, to playing with nerf guns. Jude would always jump in on the fun, but there was something so fatherly about her husband in those moments. He had that nurturing gift and she didn’t. Him not being here felt like a curse.
By the maker she missed him. None of this felt right without her king near. She didn’t care if he only stood in the room, or sat next to her. If he said ridiculous things or words of support. So long as he was there. Everytime Jude asked Tatterfell repeated the same thing, tradition. Taryn supported her claim as did The Bomb. For the time she let it go, too tired and focused to argue back. Now it was close, the arrival of their heir, all that suppressed guilt of Cardan not being here boiled into fury and rage. To hell with the tradition. As High King and Queen they have changed many outdated rulings. What’s one more.
“Tatterfell?”
The older imp standing next to The Bomb looked over to her. Both of the women were preparing warm bowls of water and new clothes for cleansing bloodied rags. She had said moments ago Jude was ready to push. The baby would be here soon. Taryn was busying herself with securing a strong fabric overhead, claiming it helps while pushing. Jude didn’t care about the fabrics, or the repetitive words from these women. She wanted her husband and she would have him in this room.
“My queen, what do you need?”
Jude swallowed thickly, fighting off a contraction, “I need my husband.”
“It’s not -" No. She wouldn't hear it. not again. The Fire inside turned her white hot.
“I DON’T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT TRADITION. GET MY HUSBAND IN HERE!” All three women looked to each other, “Now!” she seethed, “I am the mortal queen of faerie! I am as un tradition as it can be. If he isn’t here in the next minute. I will exile the three of you," her brows twisted in pure raging anger, teeth flashing as she stared them down.
Tatterfell went to open her mouth. Jude fixed on the tall figure behind her. Inky black unkempt hair, tired black eyes staring at her. The face of wrath that was displayed on Jude's features quickly dispersed. He was still in his sleep shirt and slacks. He looked to Jude the way he always did. Like her beauty was magic of its own. Even in her state of swollen belly, tangled hair and body drenched in sweat. Her eyes shined like the honey stick she had earlier. An exhausted smile tugged at the corner of lips as he approached her. Cardan sat next to her on the firm mattress, Jude immediately leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. He pressed a kiss atop her head.
“You're -” She moved away from him as a burst of scorching pain crashed into her. Like someone took a greatsword, piercing her in between her thighs. Cardan seemed to know exactly what she needed. Angling behind her, supporting Jude’s body with his own. Sliding his hands into hers, she squeezed them as tight as her strength would allow. Tatterfell kept shouting at her to push. Taryn stood by the bedside continually dabbing a cool cloth to Jude. The Bomb kept herself busy aiding Tatterfell's requests. The four in the room kept up this routine for what felt like hours. A constant circle of screams, words of encouragement, wiping sweat, and changing rags. Daylight had begun to seep through in the high windows. Jude felt heavy with exhaustion, agony, and worry.
“Jude,” Tatterfell spoke sternly, “One more push and that’s it. The next contraction push with that strength I know you have. You’ve got this.”
Jude shook her head as tears fell, she leaned into Cardan turning to face him. He saw it. The same expression she gave him hours ago, “I can’t do this,” her lips trembled, streaks of tears coated her splotchy face, “ I can’t be a mother. I’m. I’m scared that I will screw this up.”
He’d never seen her look so vulnerable, so utterly human in his arms. There was true doubt in her eyes. He couldn’t believe it. That she thought she would be a terrible mother. Jude Duarte, protector and Queen of Elfhame. A woman who put herself on a dangerous path to protect a child. Who stood up to bullies in her youth. Who loved, cared, and protected her friends and family wouldn’t be a good mother? Cardan could almost laugh at her absurdity. Humour wasn’t what she needed. It was reassurance, comfort. Her husband knew she needed him to be her rock right now. That it was his turn to be the strong one.
“My darling God, you can. Do you know why?” gingerly taking her face in his warm palms, pulling her forehead to his while running a thumb over her tears brushing them away, “ Because you’re brave, protective, caring. You love with your whole heart, and I know that you’d give our child the world. You would sacrifice everything for them if it meant their happiness,” He kissed away the new tears, “If I must admit. I, too, am scared. The thoughts you have, I have of myself,” he paused, “So long as we have each other. I think we will be fine. I am always in your corner Jude as I hope you are in mine.”
Jude went to speak when a treacherous wave of pain swirled through. She cried out reaching for the strong bands above her. Cardan helped angle her body forward as Jude fisted the heavy ivory fabric. Pulling her auburn hair back, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek, “You can do this. You’re my wife and the mortal Queen of Elfhame. You can do this Jude,” Gritting her teeth she summoned all of her remaining strength. With a warrior cry she gave one final push. The pressure in her core felt like the cork of a bottle being popped open. Letting go of the fabrics, Jude fell back into Cardan’s arms. Within seconds they both stilled hearing the powerful shrill cry of a newborn. Their hearts thundered nervously in tune with each other. Observing as Tatterfell severed the cord connecting mother to baby. She took a salve from The Bomb, rubbing the cream onto the screaming newborn.
“Hello there little one,” Tatterfell smiled at the small babe in her arms, Her old coal eyes flicked up to Jude and Cardan, “Would you like to meet your daughter? It would do her well for you to remove your shirt. Babes like the skin."
Cardan tugged his shirt off discarding it to the floor, Jude slipped her arms out of the thin straps of her nightgown. Taryn and The Bomb both hugged the new parents, before making their leave. Jude motioned to Tatterfell for her husband to take first hold. His heart thundered in his chest, hands shaking as Tatterfell slipped the baby into Cardan's waiting arms, she too excused herself. Giving the King and Queen time alone. Jude attempted to offer an apology, Tatterfell only waved her off. Citing that through the years there have been many things Jude could have apologized for. Shouting in labor wasn't one and that she too thought the tradition was absurd.
As soon as the tiny bundle moved into the crook of Cardan’s arms, her cries softened. Gently he moved back to the ornate headboard. His eyes roamed over the small child. Patches of curls the color of the richest chocolates sat atop her little head. Slowly she looked up at Cardan, wide honeyed eyes Iike her mother. A sharp nose like that of her father. The one thing she had indisputably been inherited from the King, was the small tail swishing about left to right. He stared at her in awe. Like she was the single most precious thing in the land.
Jude watched him with their daughter. The tenderness he used when moving her to his bare chest. His hand was wide as the babes back. The newborn girl extended a small hand to Cardan's face. Resting over his jaw. The tiny tail curled around his finger like a thin band. Her heart swelled, overcome with more affection than she thought possible. Jude bit back a sob looking over to her husband bonding with their minute old baby. She held no doubts he'd be a great father, it wasn't surprising to witness him falling in step with ease.
"Cardan," he looked over at his queen, it was her turn to build him up, " Look at you. We have been parents all, but five minutes. Already you fell into this role with affection and gentleness," a tired sigh fell from her lips, "You're not Dain, Balekin, or your father. You have a big heart and you care deeply. I have no doubts that you will be that girl's pillar. The way you are mine."
"As long as we have each other?" he questioned
"As long as we have each other," she confirmed. The Princess of Elfhame started to move on his chest, as if she was looking for something, "let me see her. She might be hungry."
Carefully Cardan placed the girl in Jude's cradled arms. Jude brought the baby to her breast, offering her nipple. She took it, sucking from her mother. With his encouraging words earlier and their daughter safely in arms, Jude's fears washed away. He watched in awe as Jude fell into her new role the same way she did as Seneschal, and Queen, naturally. Like she was born for this despite the worry still hidden in her loving gaze. His heart swelled with joy and pride as his wife caressed the baby's cheek and brought her lips to the nursing newborn. He pulled Jude flush to him. Cardan wrapped his arms around them, his hands overlapping Jude's. The baby's tail followed suit, resting atop her parent's hands. He thought about his wife. The things she had done in the past, and the last several hours. All the pain, the suffering she endured to bring life into this world. He didn't think it were possible to fall in love with Jude again, but he did. She gave him a gift so precious and rare. There were no words to describe how he felt.
Jude nuzzled into the crook of his neck the same time he pressed a kiss into her mussed up hair.
"I am amazed by you Jude. Truly I am."
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