Push, Mom!

[Nivalis Silverfrost]

As another seemingly endless week slipped away, winter's unforgiving embrace tightened its grip on Nivalis as the air grew colder, making everything feel even harder for her. Her once agile body was now nothing more than a bloated and misshapen form; her belly, swollen with child, made her slower and weaker than ever before.

Nivalis struggled to perform simple tasks, like kneeling, lifting objects, or even walking. Each step left her gasping for air, and dizziness often clouded her thoughts. But she refused to let any of this stop her from planning their escape. All week, she thought about how they could flee this place, considering every detail—the how, the when, and most importantly, the where.

This wasn't her first attempt at escape from this hell of a place. Nivalis had tried before, but Haldor was too cunning and clever, and the fact that the village was small and isolated made any kind of plan futile. He always seemed one step ahead, as if he could read her mind. Even when she ran without plans or preparations, he tracked her down like yet another helpless rabbit in the forest.

In her first year here, before she was pregnant with Silvia, she had fought fiercely. She used every bit of her strength and tried every method she could think of, from attempting to harm Haldor in his sleep to schemes involving poison and even the introduction of glass into his meals. Nothing worked. Her actions only brought harsh consequences, leading to Silvia's conception. She felt trapped, like a bird in a cage.

With Silvia's birth, Nivalis faced an even greater challenge. She knew Haldor wanted not just her but also to mold her innocent child into his own image. Protecting Silvia from his influence became her top priority, and it was far from easy. But now, a spark of hope ignited within her. She had a plan. A good plan, though quite risky. And this time, she wouldn't let Haldor stop her.

Nivalis decided the best time to escape would be right after the baby's birth. Haldor would be off guard, thinking she was too weak to do anything stupid. She remembered when Silvia was born, Haldor had drunk so much he slept and snored for three days straight. She would use this opportunity to escape with Silvia and the new baby.

Nivalis knew it would be difficult, but she was willing to take the risk. Anything was better than staying with this terrible man. In this terrible village, among humans who despise everything about her elven nature.

She was in the kitchen, working when a familiar kick in her belly interrupted her thoughts. It felt like her unborn child was urging her not to give up, to keep going. She smiled, gently rubbing her hand over her round belly. "It's okay, my dear. Mommy is here," she whispered as quietly as possible before her mind again filled with thoughts of how much she had already done. 'Was it enough?' a single thought coursed through her mind.

Nivalis had to be extra careful not to make Haldor, the person keeping her here, suspicious. He had a temper that could go from bad to worse instantly. It was dangerous even to think about escaping around him, but she couldn't stand the thought of staying any longer.

The hardest part was gathering supplies without raising suspicion. Years with Haldor had taught her how to move around him, predict his moods, and anticipate his reactions. Her nimble fingers could slip into pockets and bags without a sound. Well, at least her fingers remained thin.

She even found an old sled hidden in the back of their barn. She spent hours fixing and reinforcing it for their long journey. She would use this sled to carry her daughter and supplies.

Nivalis's plan was straightforward but effective. She will head northeast, far beyond Haldor's reach, into a desolate, lawless expanse of dense forests and untamed wilderness. She'd keep going until they reached the neighboring kingdom, where she'd seek refuge and a new beginning. Though it was still yet another human kingdom, maybe it would be better than here.

The Empire is a huge place, truly. She knew it would take them at least a month to travel through the vast forest, which was as big as some middle-sized kingdom. She had to ensure she was adequately stocked up on food so they wouldn't go hungry. But something made her uneasy – the stories of monsters lurking in those wild lands. These creatures were said to be huge, with sharp teeth and claws, like something out of a nightmare. Were they just tales to scare kids, or were they true?

People only whispered about these monsters, their voices trembling with fear. They told tales of travelers who had dared to go into the no-man's land only to vanish without a trace, their fate sealed by these terrifying creatures. Despite the fear, she had no choice but to face the unknown dangers that awaited her and her children beyond the safety of their prison walls. She couldn't let them grow up in that dreadful place and was determined to give them a chance at a better life.

Memories of her past life flooded her mind. She thought about the days when she was happy and surrounded by friends and family. Those were the times she missed the most, and they seemed like a distant dream now. A dream that she wished for her daughter and unborn baby to have.

As the day of the birth drew nearer, Nivalis felt her anxiety growing stronger. She knew time was running out, and with each passing moment, she was getting closer to her chance to be free. But she also knew the stakes were incredibly high. One wrong move could ruin everything she had worked so hard for.

After recalling every little thing in her mind to make sure everything was prepared, she took a deep breath and sighed with relief. The only thing left to do now was to wait. For the past few days, the tension in the house was thick. The anticipation of the upcoming birth and the uncertainty of what it would bring hung heavily in the air. It could happen at any moment now.

Haldor sensed something was off, but he was too focused on the idea of becoming a father again to pay much attention. Often, his gaze was fixed on his wife's swollen belly, and a dark, twisted smile spread across his face. "Soon, I will have my second child," he would mutter, his voice low and sinister like it always was to her elven ears. "I can't wait to see my son. Oh, my strong, powerful, warrior son."

His words felt like daggers in Nivalis's heart, but she forced herself to stay composed. "I'm sure he will be just as strong and brave as his father," she'd replied tremblingly. It seemed like she hadn't even considered the possibility of a girl.

Deep down, Haldor knew the birth of his second child would end the fragile peace he'd managed with Nivalis. She had been obedient enough, but his son would need rigorous training to become the warrior Haldor envisioned. He wouldn't allow his newborn son to be raised by a woman who hated him, not after what she did to their daughter.

...

A few more days went by, and then it happened.

One late evening, while Haldor was away on a hunting trip and Silvia was fast asleep, Nivalis was in the kitchen, busy preparing food for the next morning. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through her, and she felt her water break. "Silvia!" Nivalis cried out, her voice echoing through the empty house.

Silvia was jolted awake by her mother's urgent call and hurried down the stairs, her tiny footsteps padding softly on the creaky floor. "Mom, what's wrong?" Silvia asked, her eyes wide with concern as she saw the large puddle beneath her mother's feet.

— "It's time, sweetheart," Nivalis said, her voice trembling with excitement and fear. The moment she had planned for finally came.

Silvia's eyes widened even more, and a smile tugged at her lips. "You mean... my sister is coming?" Silvia's face lit up, and she hurried to her mother's side, ready to help. "Well, or brother..."

Nivalis nodded, unable to speak as another contraction hit her. She reached out and placed her trembling hand on her daughter's shoulder.

Together, they hurried into the bedroom, their hearts pounding almost in unison. Nivalis carefully arranged a cozy nest of soft blankets and pillows, preparing a safe space for the arrival of a baby. Meanwhile, Silvia scurried around the house, gathering all the necessary items they might need.

The room was small and dimly lit. A lonely candle flickered on the windowsill, casting a soft, warm glow. The walls were painted a dull gray, and the floor consisted of simple wooden planks.

"I got you some towels and water," Silvia said, putting a bucket near the bed.

— "Thank you, my dear," Nivalis whispered, her breath catching as another contraction wrecked through her. She carefully settled onto the bed, trying to focus on her breathing as the intensity of the contractions grew.

"Here, Mom, drink this," Silvia offered, carefully holding a cup to her mother's trembling lips.

Nivalis took a refreshing sip, savoring the coolness that washed away the bitterness in her mouth. She managed a faint smile, grateful for her daughter's support.

...

As the hours passed, Nivalis's contractions increased in frequency and intensity, like waves crashing against the shore. Her screams echoed through the house, filling every corner with their intensity.

Nivalis lay on the bed, her legs stretched wide apart. Her breathing was ragged, coming in short gasps, and her heart pounded like a drum in her chest. Her body was drenched in sweat, making her feel sticky and uncomfortable. Strands of hair clung to her forehead in a tangled mess. With every surge of pain, she clutched her daughter's hand so tightly that her knuckles turned ghostly white, only by some miracle not hurting her.

Silvia watched the scene in a mix of awe and terror. The deafening screams of her mother sent shivers down her spine. She was frozen in place, unable to move or utter a word. Her golden eyes were so wide that she had to remind herself sometimes to blink.

Nivalis's world shrank down to a pinprick. All she could focus on was the excruciating pain that racked her body. As the labor intensified, the pressure built within Nivalis's belly, as if her organs were being crushed under the weight of the unborn child. Her skin burned with fever, and her throat felt parched despite the water her daughter kept giving her.

With each agonizing contraction, Nivalis felt as if she was being torn apart from the inside. She could feel the child struggling within her, desperate to enter the world.

"You can do it, Mommy," the little girl whispered, her tiny hand never leaving her mother's. It got all sweaty, but she didn't mind.

Nivalis's screams were deafening, and the pain of childbirth was almost unbearable. Her body ached, and her vision blurred, but she pushed through the pain. Her tired mind barely registered her daughter's words. The minutes dragged by, each one feeling like an eternity. The suffering continued, and Nivalis began to lose hope. She wondered if this would be her last night in this world.

"Push, Mom!" Silvia cried out, her young voice strained with desperation.

Nodding, Nivalis gathered the remnants of her strength and pushed. The pressure within her seemed to double, and she could feel the child's head forcing its way out.

"Come on, Mom, you can do it!" Silvia encouraged. Oh, how much she wished not to see the baby coming out from her mother, but she did. It was like watching into the darkness, only for the darkness to watch back.

— "I can't do it! It's too hard! I can't!" Nivalis sobbed, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks.

"You can, Mom. I believe in you!" Silvia urged, her high-pitched voice wavering with emotion.

Nivalis gathered the last shreds of her courage and gave one final push. A guttural scream erupted from her throat, and the child slid out of her, a slimy, bloody bundle, making Silvia hold her breath. Nivalis collapsed back against the pillows, her body exhausted and wracked with pain.

Finally, after hours of suffering, a little boy was born. Nivalis couldn't contain her tears as she cradled her son in sweaty arms. He was so tiny and helpless, and she knew her heart would forever be tied to this beautiful child. However, as she held him, Nivalis realized something was wrong. Her newborn son was quiet, limp, and unresponsive, his tiny chest still.