Life Goes On

Writers: AL, Heather
Date Posted: 9th August 2025

Characters: Relea, Coran
Description: Relea and Coran's baby is born, despite the jilted status of their relationship.
Location: Green Valley Hold
Date: month 5, day 22 of Turn 12

Relea

The night did not allow her rest. Relea awoke, the darkness thick in her room, the fog of sleep that had been so blissfully welcome dusting her eyes and blurring the shadows that emerged when the lights were snuffed out. For a moment, she didn’t move, uncertain as to what awakened her bubbling alongside the unconscious thought that she should simply close her eyes and go back to sleep. Yet, when she attempted to do just that, she could not. Instead, she tossed, finding the position uncomfortable, but moving around did nothing to help settle her further. Her back ached, unwilling to allow her to relax back into slumber and give her the respite she desired. Again, she shifted, but a pang bloomed across her lower back, insisting that it have its way. After a second, and then a third time, Relea finally got the hint and sat up.

Pressing her hand against her back, she wondered if her body was determined to actually start labour, or if it was simply lying, mocking her yet again. She’d had false labour before, gotten up, thought the baby might be on the way, only to have the contractions fade. “Practice contractions,” they were called, though later in the pregnancy, they could often take her breath away. After sitting for some time longer, unable to fall back to sleep, she threw off the bedcovers and reached for her robe, the lighter brought out in favour of the warmer weather. Pulling the garment on, her feet found the slippers beneath her bed, and she shuffled out of her room and into the hallway.

The darkness enveloped her. Unlike at the Weyr, it was a familiar, comfortable companion, one that had become familiar with her, and her long absence had only made her desire a return to Green Valley. At the time, however, she hadn’t imagined her homecoming would bear such a taint. Months had passed since her return, only to find Coran dancing with another woman. Since then, he had affirmed his willingness to work on their marriage. The months had been carefully choreographed. In public, they were a couple, parents committed to each other and their daughter, and she, swelling with another child after too many miscarriages to count.

When alone, they hovered around each other, nervous, fluttering phantasms that flitted toward each other, only to dart away at the last moment. Sometimes, when he wasn’t watching, she would look at him, the longing in her heart reflected in her eyes. She never let it show. She didn’t want him to want her out of pity. She wanted him to want her out of love.

And he said he wanted her. Except that one time he didn’t. He had wanted someone else. And then when she had come home…

Shaking her head, Relea stopped at the door that led out to the back way, pausing to allow the pang to annoy her, then fade away. They were not close. If this were labour, she had quite some time, and she was loath to spend it in her room. Instead, she straightened, opened the door, and slipped out into the night to wander the gardens and distract her from her discomfort.

--
Coran wasn’t sure what woke him as he was sleeping soundly and comfortably, but he found himself blinking awake regardless. Was that the sound of the door?

Jerking on pants, stamping into boots, and tossing a shirt over his head, Coran slipped out of his bedroom and checked Relea’s room first. An empty bed with mussed sheets was all he found.

Walking back into the main living area, he stood with his hands on his hips, heart hammering in his chest. Where had she gone? He racked his brain. **Did she go to the healer without me?** he wondered, but he thought, even in their fractured state, that she would tell him if she was in labor. Wouldn’t she?

**The gardens.** The answer came to him suddenly. Often, when they had been courting, they would spend time together in the Hold’s flower gardens.

The entire walk there, he wondered what he would do if she wasn’t in the gardens, but as he slipped out of the courtyard door, he caught sight of her silhouette in the moonlight. Relief stole through him.

“Relea?” he called.

She didn’t answer, for she didn’t even notice he had approached. The illness that stole her voice had done so by stealing her ears. Instead, she remained there, her face tilted up to the sky, devoid of clouds so that Belior smiled down brightly upon the world below, his brother, Timor, skirting the horizon. She remained there, hands upon her lower back, rocking from side to side, her eyes closed, her mouth open, the silver of the moonlight shining down gently upon her.

Coran huffed into the air, not quite believing he’d called her name out loud, but he blamed it on his sleep-fuddled brain. The healer walked the long way about, giving his wife plenty of time to see him in the moonlight so that he would not startle her. She looked beautiful, gilded in the pale light like a statue of silver, made of moonbeams. He would never screw things up with her again, he vowed in that moment.

[Relea], he signed her name as he approached, using exaggerated gestures to get her attention.

Though she hadn’t heard him, somehow, she must have sensed his presence, for before he even signed to her, she opened her eyes and turned, noting the figure in the shadows. When he stepped into the moonlight, she nodded at his signing of her name. Her face was tight, lines drawn around her eyes, and furrows running across her brow. A strand of hair escaped her braid and slipped over her forehead, licking at beads of sweat that formed upon it. She lifted one hand and made the gesture that indicated his own name, but it was another moment before the tension slipped out of her enough for her to ‘say’ more. [I’m in labour.]

Coran slipped into healer-mode. [Do you want to walk back to our quarters? I can carry you,] he offered. Some women liked to walk to progress their labor, but if the contractions were close together, they might not have the time to do so.

Carry her? That was the last thing Relea wanted. Shaking her head, she signed, [Not yet.] How far apart were the contractions? She hadn’t paid any attention to actual time, but gauged it by her own senses. They were close enough for her to know she was in active labour, and far enough apart that she was willing to remain alone for a little while longer before waking anyone to assist. [It’s easier out here.] That day hadn’t been particularly warm, and the night was cooler, but with the work her body was in the midst of doing, sweat beaded upon her brow, and she was grateful for the gentle breeze.

Not knowing what else to do, Coran sat down beside his wife on the bench and offered her his hand.

For a moment, Relea hesitated, but finally her slender fingers slipped into his, and she allowed him to help her down. Easing herself onto the bench, she sighed heavily. The contraction had passed, but she knew another would soon would come. Turning her eyes to the scene, she inhaled deeply the scent of the garden, and gazed upon the sky full of stars. As she predicted, another contraction came, sooner than the last, and the quietness of the night broke beneath the deep, guttural moans of her labour.

[It seems like yesterday when we were doing this with Corlea,] Coran said to her between contractions.

Nodding, Relea clenched her hands together, then released them so she could fashion a response to her husband. [Time has gone by so quickly.] Her daughter had been a baby only yesterday, hadn’t she? And now she stood tall, learned so many things, and Relea carried another child - another child who was quite ready to come. A particularly powerful set of contractions gripped her and her moans broke the peacefulness of the night. Sliding off the bench, she turned around and settled on her knees, hands gripping the edge of the bench as she rocked back and forth as the wave of pain rose and fell. Finally, it dissipated, but in its wake, she managed a single signed word. [Bedroom.]

--

The mewling cry of a baby. To some, a common noise, perhaps even a nuisance. Yet, to the ears of the parent, it is the most magical, beautiful sound in the world.

“Congratulations, it’s a boy,” the midwife pronounced, laying the child now on Relea’s chest.

The woman hadn’t spoken with her hands, and Relea’s ears could not make out any sound, but as the child came closer, she could see what had been said. A boy. They had a boy. A son. Collapsing back against the pillow, her hands nonetheless automatically crossed over the baby, holding him close. She could feel the cord that still connected them pulsing, basked in the warmth of his little body, and trembled with happiness and the vibration of his cry which quieted quickly once he was in the embrace of his mother.

Boy. Her lips moved, but no sound came out, but no one had to ask what it meant. Closing her eyes, she shut herself off from anything and everything, basking in the sensation of relief. Pain throbbed, but it trailed off, as if an echo from a distant call as all the joy that poured out of her pushed it out of the forefront so she could concentrate on the miracle that had sprung from her body.

Coran tended to all the duties of a father, cutting the cord and thanking the midwife for her services. He turned and studied his wife and son. His love for his daughter, Corlea, wasn’t lessened in the least by the arrival of a son, but there was now a new corner of his heart.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Coran wiped Relea’s brow with a cool towel. [Name?] he asked her.

Even though the time for the baby had drawn near, a name hadn’t been chosen. Holding the tiny body to her chest, Relea craned her neck to get a better look at the child. A slender finger tenderly stroked the cheek, and the child’s stark blue eyes peered out at the world, which was all brand new to him. She pondered over the options, but settled on a name that felt like it fit him. Lifting her free hand, she signed, [What about Araelor?]

He couldn’t help notice that the most important parts of _his_ name were missing in Araelor, but he also didn’t think he had any footing to stand on when it came to suggesting something else. Not when he had missed the first half of Relea’s pregnancy. Not when everything was his fault.

[Araelor sounds perfect.]

Last updated on the September 2nd 2025

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