Rewrite: Siobhan: Prologue
Something's getting rewritten and tweaked but will still be the same charries and plot that we've all (I hope) have mised!
I'm hoping to tweak the original Siobhan stories, make it more coherent and maybe a less cheesy (I think the whole bonding in Elysium thing is going to go away).
Anway, here's the prologue!
The home was simple, like so many others in the small village. Rónán, paced impatiently outside of it, as many husbands before him had. From time to time, one of the other men of the village would press a tankard into his hands, ordering him to drink. More than once he sloshed the beer as his Aislinn cried out from within.
The night passed, and not once did Rónán notice anything out of the ordinary, though he did wonder if the sky did not lighten when the midwife's assistant stepped out long enough to tell him that he had a son. His own ears bore testimony to the fact that he was a healthy boy with a hearty pair of lungs. He beamed, and attempted to push past the young woman, but she resolutely blocked him. Before he could he protest, she informed him that a second child was coming.
For Rónán, waiting for the second was even more torturous than the first. His wife’s cries were just as intense, each one sending a shock of chill down his spine as he feared he would lose both Aislinn and the second babe. He wondered how anyone could survive as much pain as she seemed to be in. The night grew long, and one by one the men were forced to leave him, to return to their own wives and children.
It was almost dawn before the assistant again peeked out the door. Her eyes were exhausted, but she smiled as she informed him that his wife, son, and daughter were well.
***
In a castle across the sea a young man let out a sigh of relief as he pulled his pregnant wife closer to him. “It passes from us.” They stood together on the wall, watching the Northern sky.
The young woman smiled, and laid a gentle hand on her swollen belly. “You do not want your son to be king?”
“No.” He shook his head and placed his hand over hers. “He will be a lord. That is enough.”
I'm hoping to tweak the original Siobhan stories, make it more coherent and maybe a less cheesy (I think the whole bonding in Elysium thing is going to go away).
Anway, here's the prologue!
The home was simple, like so many others in the small village. Rónán, paced impatiently outside of it, as many husbands before him had. From time to time, one of the other men of the village would press a tankard into his hands, ordering him to drink. More than once he sloshed the beer as his Aislinn cried out from within.
The night passed, and not once did Rónán notice anything out of the ordinary, though he did wonder if the sky did not lighten when the midwife's assistant stepped out long enough to tell him that he had a son. His own ears bore testimony to the fact that he was a healthy boy with a hearty pair of lungs. He beamed, and attempted to push past the young woman, but she resolutely blocked him. Before he could he protest, she informed him that a second child was coming.
For Rónán, waiting for the second was even more torturous than the first. His wife’s cries were just as intense, each one sending a shock of chill down his spine as he feared he would lose both Aislinn and the second babe. He wondered how anyone could survive as much pain as she seemed to be in. The night grew long, and one by one the men were forced to leave him, to return to their own wives and children.
It was almost dawn before the assistant again peeked out the door. Her eyes were exhausted, but she smiled as she informed him that his wife, son, and daughter were well.
***
In a castle across the sea a young man let out a sigh of relief as he pulled his pregnant wife closer to him. “It passes from us.” They stood together on the wall, watching the Northern sky.
The young woman smiled, and laid a gentle hand on her swollen belly. “You do not want your son to be king?”
“No.” He shook his head and placed his hand over hers. “He will be a lord. That is enough.”