Survivor (A Skyrim Fan-Fiction)

Chapter Twenty

"WARRICK!" Ulfric boomed before he effortlessly picked me up and lifted me out of the water.

He set me gently down on the floor as he rushed for a towel from a pile in the corner of the room. I noticed red trails of blood running down his bare left arm and chest, which without a doubt must have been mine.

All of my senses were focused on the foreign and insufferable pain growing in my abdomen and groin, and trying not to burst out crying from it. Yes, I was naked and covered in my own blood yet to me crying would be a greater wound to my pride than that.

"Here," Ulfric said as he wrapped a towel around me. "I still don't want him looking at you."

"Ulfric he's the only one who knows how...how to...AGH!"

I automatically clenched everything, inside and out, as a horrible cramp started to throb just below my stomach. Pain, pain, pain. There is really no other way to put it.

"Your grace, I need you to open your legs," Warrick said surprisingly calm, and seeming to have appeared out of nowhere.

Ulfric gave the aged man a daggered look, but the healer took no notice as he steadily pushed my legs apart as I lied down.

"You need to push with as much force as you can downwards, do you understand?"

I managed to give a nod as I tried to get the thing out of me. A sharp, longing sting erupted down there and I couldn't help but cry out in agony. Usually, any human would shy away from pain and try to avoid it as much as possible, yet I kept going, kept pushing and suffering this torment to bring a new life into the world.

"Keep pushing!"

My hair was stuck to my forehead and beads of sweat ran down to my brow. It was only minutes in and my strength was already failing...Is this how it's meant to go?

Suddenly I felt another shock, but this time it was the back of my head and I was facing the ceiling.

"Get some me water and a clean cloth, as well as my crate of potions and ingredients!" Warrick's voice echoed around the room.

"You do not rule me, Breton."

The carvings in the ceiling of the animals of the forest started to blur into a fuzzy white haze, and the two voices arguing turned distant, as if they were in another room.

"If the lady doesn't have proper medicinal treatment, she and the baby may very well die. I think it's in your best interest you do as I ask.

I heard the slapping of bare feet on marble fade as Ulfric must have seen some sense. He returned just as quickly as he had left, but now with the rattle and chinks of glass bottles wobbling together.

I watched the ceiling move from side to side through heavy eyes as the torture continued. The pathetic whimpers escaping my dry and cracked lips had no chance of stopping all the time the baby was still in me.

"I can't do it!" I heaved, my voice cracking as tears stung my eyes. I will not let them fall. "Please, just get it out of me!"

A black shadow covered my vision with the voice of Warrick.

"Drink this, my lady. It will help with the pain."

He raised the thin phial to my lips and so I let the liquid flow down without a second thought. It had the same consistency of water, yet it had a sharp tang to it that slightly burned the back of my throat.

The carved animals on the walls gradually started to move. First with a slight sway, and then beginning to run and dance about each other like an ancient ritual of the Forsworn. Their animated movements were hypnotic, and I could almost hear the music of drums and a lone flute that drove their excitement.