Noir

Chapter 18 - Empty

She was crying, and I didn't know what to do. I was both physically and emotionally drained from today, as I tried to rock my daughter back and forth in my arms. More than anything, I wanted to collapse into sleep and never wake up. The midwife had left about an hour ago, and I was exhausted.

"Shhh..." I moaned, barely able to move my arms. "I don't know what you want. Please, just stop crying."

Tears of frustration came to my eyes, and I just wanted a break, just five minutes to shut my eyes and rest.

"Milady," I looked up to see Luhan standing in the doorway, carrying a bowl. "Do you need help?"
"Yes," I said miserably, and he quickly came over, setting down the bowl of rice and gently taking the baby from my arms.

"It's alright," He murmured gently, looking down at my daughter softly. She began to settle down after a while in his arms, and I could not help but feel a little jealous that he could stop her crying and I could not.

I leaned back and closed my eyes, wholly exhausted. I wasn't sure if it would be rude to fall asleep in the room with Luhan there, but another part of me really no longer cared. I wanted to escape into sleep. I wanted not to have to put on a mask of strength. It had only been a few hours since he had gone, but it felt like forever.

"There we go," Luhan said quietly and I opened my eyes to see him carefully ease my daughter into her cradle beside the bed. He turned to me and picked up the bowl of rice. "Milady, please eat," He said softly. "You need to regain your strength."

"Let me sleep," I moaned, and he picked up the chopsticks. Luhan gathered a clump of rice, and lifted it towards me.

"Just a few bites, milady," He urged. "You need your strength."

"I just want to rest," I moaned, tears coming to my eyes again. I ran a weary hand down my face, and covered my mouth, stifling a sob. "Thank you Luhan, but I really..." I stopped myself from continuing, knowing that I would say that I wanted my husband back. I would have given anything for him to stay with me.

I was crying, and I had been for a while, I just didn't realize it. Luhan set down the rice bowl and gently took my hand. "I'm so sorry, Milady," He murmured. "I know I am not, and can never be him. But I will do my best to serve you and the baby."

"Oh, Luhan," I murmured, before I knew it, he was holding me close, and I was crying into his shoulder. "I can't raise this baby by myself."

"I'll do everything that I can," He said comfortingly. "You will not be alone for this. And I am confident that My Lord will return. He will do everything in his power to do so."

"The way he spoke," I pulled away, looking Luhan in the eye. "He believed otherwise."

Luhan looked to be at a loss for words, and I knew that I had put him on the spot. "I do not know the outcome of this war, Milady," He said softly. "And I do not know if My Lord will live or perish. I wish that I could tell you if I knew, but all that I have to hold onto is the hope that he will come back. We must hope for the best, Milady. That is all we have."

"You're right," I said, drying my eyes on my sleeve. "That's all that we can do."

"You have a responsibility as well, to your daughter," He said more firmly. "You must be strong and not neglect your health because of her. Please, just eat a little, and then rest. I'll watch her."

I sighed. I had no inkling of an appetite at all, but for Luhan's sake, took a few bites of rice and lay back on my bed. "You will stay?" I asked quietly, and he nodded.

"I promise," He said solemnly, and without another thought, I closed my eyes and collapsed into slumber.

++

The next few weeks blurred by, and my daughter only grew bigger and bigger. Per Chinese custom, the baby wasn't named until after 100 days, but even then, I didn't know what I would call her. He was better at these things than I.

I missed him every single day, and took small comfort in the fact that sometimes, I saw him in my dreams. Most of the time, it was a blurred memory, but as weeks turned into months, and still no news of my husband passed, these dreams turned to terrifying nightmares. I dreamt that a soldier would come to my door, telling me that he was dead, or I would watch him be killed brutally and violently in battle. On those nights, I awoke either in tears, or screaming in terror so loud that I would wake both Luhan and the baby. Luhan would come rushing in, at first with his sword, fearing an attack, but later on his own, reading to quiet the baby back to sleep and to soothe me. It wasn't fair for him, and I always apologized, but as nights passed, it only seemed to get worse.

I slept less, now fearing when nighttime came, lest I be haunted by visions of my husband's death again. It had grown colder now, snow not yet falling, but on the verge of it. With my husband's departure, all the color had seemed to flee from around me, the vibrance of the trees in autumn becoming barren skeletons of what they used to be. And like the trees, I felt empty without him, my heart bleeding every day when I thought about him in battle. There was a time when I wished he would have gone to war, and now that it had come true, I wanted more than anything to take it back.
On one such bitterly cold night, I stayed up, holding my sleeping daughter in my arms. I sang softly to her, a lullaby from Korea that my own mother had sang to me, when I heard footsteps coming in from the garden.

I turned, Luhan's name forming on my lips, and then froze, nearly dropping my baby from surprise.
"Jikyung..." Yixing breathed, staring back at me.