Garnet.

Chapter XIII: What if?

4E 2, New Sheoth Palace.

  Illent is now frantically pacing in her room and rubbing her bump. The dark walls of the previous Sheogorath's room usually calm her but right now it's causing her to panic more. Like the room itself is the Void that will threaten to eat her and her baby up.
'What if something is wrong with her baby?! What if they aren't meant to exist? Will they die in agony? Will they look like a monster!?' Her thoughts are a jumbled mess.

"Will I die?"

  She had promised Lucien they'd see each other again in the Void but at the time that was just a phrase she uttered out of grief. Who is she kidding? She can't die anymore. Her baby... that will though. No, not if she stops it. She'll let them age some then will grant them immortality. So they can be together forever. Her child will thank her. Once they realize the situation they will thank her.

  She's still panicking and the voices never shutting up aren't helping. She needs to take a breather and a walk. Maybe find Haskill and take a trip to the library in the palace. There's bound to be something there to help ease her worries about the baby's quality of life.

She should have done that yesterday but didn't. Instead, she spent her day talking with friends and roaming the land. She leaves her predecessor's quarters and seeks out the Chamberlain.

Eventually, she finds him by the throne shuffling papers around in his arms.
"Haskill? A word if you would." Illent after she gets his attention folds her hands behind her back making her bump look larger.
"Yes, m'lady? How can I be of assistance?" He questions in his usual bored tone.
"I was wondering is there anything you can tell me about children born of Daedric parents? Are there others like my child?" She asks.

"Yes, there are. Shall you accompany me to the library? You may find its contents helpful." They both leave the throne room and venture down a hallway that's rarely used. Along the way, Haskill begins speaking.

"Most of the half Daedra children conceived are products of Princes. They are dubbed Demiprinces, similar to Demigods but are often more powerful depending on their Daedric parent. Their appearance is also drastically different depending on once again their Daedric parent." Haskill explains as he walks down the book aisles with Illent following behind.

"There's only been a few fragments of information about children conceived from lesser Daedra. They don't survive long enough to write anything worthy of value. You also have what is called Scions, meaning descendants. If a Demiprince conceived children of his or her own. One of our predecessors from the Second Era had a Halfblood nicknamed the Demi-prince of Pastries, amusingly. The Sheogorath of that era deemed her the only one worthy to wield the Wabbajack." Haskill further explains.

"So if my child survives long enough they may or may not be extremely powerful?" Illent rests a hand on her bump as they pass through a door into the older part of the library.

"Precisely m'lady. All though, since your body is still technically human they might be a normal person. Might is the keyword. We'll have no idea what will happen." He glances back again as he opens an old and heavy oak door. He steps in coughing at the stale air. Illent bends over to enter and stands straight on the other side.

"These books will answer your questions that you no doubt have. That and they will introduce you to the various other Scions and Demi-Princes out there. If there is anything you need to be answered please do not hesitate to ask."
With that said Haskill bows and leaves her alone in the small old section of the library.

Illent looks around and takes in the appearance of the ancient books. After walking the rows of books she's managed to find a few about Demi-Princes and Scions. She sits down at an old bland wooden table and begins reading. She feels much better now that she has answers.

4E 2, House Dementia.

  It's been one month since Illent's departure and she's now close to birthing. These past few weeks have gone by in an uneventful blur. She would sit and listen to people complain about this subject and the others. Or she would sort out petty disputes between the citizens of Mania and Dementia. Utterly boring but she prefers it. She's in no condition to physically fight right now.

  Today she finally has some time to herself. Since she has a headache she has opted to sit in the dimly lit throne room of House Dementia. The gray lighting helps ease her sore eyes and the coldness makes her feel less feverish. The cold air also helps ease her nausea. All of this was brought on by pregnancy.

Pregnancy is a pain.

  Speaking of pain her back and feet are killing her. Slouching on the throne has helped some and her feet being rubbed by her personal servant feels nice as well.

She leans up and looks down at her servant. A petite blonde woman who is easy on the eyes. If Illent didn't feel like a diseased boliwog dipped in tar she'd be flirting with her. The servant looks up and notices she's being stared at.

"Is something wrong mistress?" She nervously asks.
"Hmm? Oh no, everything's fine. I was just about to ask if you could maybe stop. You're not bothering me I've just had my fill for the day." Illent sits up fully ignoring the pain in her back.

"Yes, mistress." The young blonde beauty stands up and shuffles back to the servant's quarters.

Illent stands up and makes her way out of the throne room. She waddles to her Dementia bedroom. She sits on the bed and cups her bump when she's subjected to an onslaught of kicks.

She feels solace now that she knows the truth about her child. This little one will be just fine. Now that she's not so worried the voices that always torment her are silent. They've been plaguing her for so long that she's forgotten what it's like to have a normal mind.

Standing back up she waddles outside and walks slowly down the steps and into the private House Dementia gardens. She sits down on a bench and admires the mushroom trees and glowing blue pods that protrude from the ground.

  She hums a pleasant tune to herself. This is the perfect moment for her. The voices in her head have shut up momentarily. She isn't being kicked in the ribs. She isn't sore or hot. Everything is perfect.

  As she sits she thinks about returning to Nirn to give birth. She was going to do it here but she's been thinking of Ellis. She's an experienced midwife and considering all that they've been through together from closing Oblivion Gates to repairing them Orrery the least Illent can do is let her friend deliver her child.

  A few days from now she'll return to Nirn and that will be that.