Post by Shinigami on Oct 5, 2007 22:01:58 GMT -5
“Is that...?” a shocked whisper, hissed in the warm darkness of the birthing chamber, directed toward the only squirming bundle there.
“Yes it is. I’m so sorry. If I had thought that...Well. I’ll take care of it right away, before she sees it,” comes the rejoinder, as if speaking only of vermin.
“Wait...” A breathy whisper, laced with the pain of hours-long labor, as the pink-and-gold form in the bed struggles to shift. “My daughter...what are you doing with her...?”
“Your Highness, I’m sorry. It’s just that...”
“Let me see her!” A demanding cry from the King who had gone through so much pain, arms outstretched to receive the kitten held distastefully in the air. With reluctance, the little thing is handed over, cuddled close to mother’s breast, instinctively seeking the taste of milk.
“Your Highness, you can’t let it-!” The warnings come too late, as the mother looks down upon the child in her arms, her eyes softening in love and affection for the beautiful little creature. The markings are exquisite, beyond anything that she has ever seen before, and she strokes a paw down still wet fur. It is then that she sees what has so horrified the midwife and the handmaidens: between the hind legs is a disgusting mutation, which marks this as a son, not a daughter!
She recoils in horror, prepared to thrust the kitten away, but before she can gather the impetus she sees one more thing that ends up changing her mind: the marking upon his chest. Along with the Diamond that marks her own breast, there is a clear, unmistakable Q. This child of hers is a Queen from birth.
Running a jaundiced eye over the kitten, she realizes that it is an absolutely beautiful creature. Even if it were born a King, she might have considered allowing it to live; as such markings are truly rare and make it appear so very elegant. Decision made, she takes a spare cloth from her bed and wraps it around the lower portions of her little one, to spare her eyes the sight, and then cuddles the little thing close to her breast once more.
“...your Highness?” comes the quiet, confused question from the midwife, even as the kitten latches on to a nipple and begins to suck with a voracious strength that proves her choice.
“Bring a doctor to me. It seems that my daughter has been born with a birth defect, and we can’t let a Queen be marred by such a thing, can we?” Realization filters through the room, and a handmaiden leaves quietly on her mistress’ errand.
“She is beautiful, your Highness,” says the midwife, finally looking beyond the...defect, to see the whole of the kitten. “What is her name?”
“Her name? I think...Iria. A beautiful name, for my beautiful little daughter.”
“Yes it is. I’m so sorry. If I had thought that...Well. I’ll take care of it right away, before she sees it,” comes the rejoinder, as if speaking only of vermin.
“Wait...” A breathy whisper, laced with the pain of hours-long labor, as the pink-and-gold form in the bed struggles to shift. “My daughter...what are you doing with her...?”
“Your Highness, I’m sorry. It’s just that...”
“Let me see her!” A demanding cry from the King who had gone through so much pain, arms outstretched to receive the kitten held distastefully in the air. With reluctance, the little thing is handed over, cuddled close to mother’s breast, instinctively seeking the taste of milk.
“Your Highness, you can’t let it-!” The warnings come too late, as the mother looks down upon the child in her arms, her eyes softening in love and affection for the beautiful little creature. The markings are exquisite, beyond anything that she has ever seen before, and she strokes a paw down still wet fur. It is then that she sees what has so horrified the midwife and the handmaidens: between the hind legs is a disgusting mutation, which marks this as a son, not a daughter!
She recoils in horror, prepared to thrust the kitten away, but before she can gather the impetus she sees one more thing that ends up changing her mind: the marking upon his chest. Along with the Diamond that marks her own breast, there is a clear, unmistakable Q. This child of hers is a Queen from birth.
Running a jaundiced eye over the kitten, she realizes that it is an absolutely beautiful creature. Even if it were born a King, she might have considered allowing it to live; as such markings are truly rare and make it appear so very elegant. Decision made, she takes a spare cloth from her bed and wraps it around the lower portions of her little one, to spare her eyes the sight, and then cuddles the little thing close to her breast once more.
“...your Highness?” comes the quiet, confused question from the midwife, even as the kitten latches on to a nipple and begins to suck with a voracious strength that proves her choice.
“Bring a doctor to me. It seems that my daughter has been born with a birth defect, and we can’t let a Queen be marred by such a thing, can we?” Realization filters through the room, and a handmaiden leaves quietly on her mistress’ errand.
“She is beautiful, your Highness,” says the midwife, finally looking beyond the...defect, to see the whole of the kitten. “What is her name?”
“Her name? I think...Iria. A beautiful name, for my beautiful little daughter.”
" is all I can really say. Nice.
