A Happy Event - Eventually.

[channe]

It's not even a half-hour before the news hits the stone structures some distance from the new Calomel Hall, and Magda Kaczmarek, who was sweeping her yard. She immediately drops what she's doing, puts a few items into a bag, and heads for the hall, entering through the back entrance towards the kitchen, trying to find out what's going on.

[Raveness]

Lavender had stuck close by just in case she was needed. There were things to do, busyness to keep her mind occupied, but nothing that required her leaving or going far from home. Not this time. When she got word of the impending delivery, she quickly gathered the things she had intended on bringing with her and quickly made her way to the manor. There were indeed people here, people everywhere, but she had expected such.

Lavender thought she should probably say something encouraging to Cinnabar, but words had vacated her mind and Cinn looked rather perplexed with others. Silently, slipped past them all and headed up the stairs towards Cambree's room. She knocked on the door, before entering. "Cambree?" Her weight shifted from one foot to the next and she tucked the bag up under her arm nervously.

[Cinnabar]

The general gist of what's going on is pretty easy to surmise - Cinnabar's looking elated and terrified and being plied with brandy, and there's a certain buzz in the air.

The midwife herself, a formidable iron-haired lady of late middle age, has just recently arrived and swept upstairs with her young assistants in tow, issuing orders that the hearth be stoked and water fetched to heat, and there is a definite impression that Things Are Now In Hand. Mistress Roslin was approached after considerable discreet research, and it was found that she is held in high esteem by many of the mothers of Myrken Wood. She has a reputation as an exceedingly competent midwife and has welcomed a prodigious number of Myrken's infants into the world over the course of a career spanning almost thirty years.

The delivery room is up a couple of winding flights of stairs on the tower's upper floor, and shouldn't be too hard to find. Down in the kitchen, meanwhile, there's a somewhat distracted wave for Magda's arrival - the lord of the manor has apparently accepted at least one dose of nerve-steadying brandy which has gone some way towards restoring the colour to his features, though there's a definite risk that if he keeps on that path he'll end up rather too relaxed.

[Wendy]

An aide to Mistress Roslin is the first to get the door. There is quick study of this face belonging to the visitor, but it isn't difficult to recognize this relative of the Missus. "Lavender," the girl assumes, having been schooled already of which women will be present for the Calomel birth. She holds open the door so that the petite redhead can slip in. "Missus Calomel is expecting you, please, come in."

The room itself is of modest proportions compared to the rest of the Hall, intimate enough to keep volume from growing too loud, should there be any disturbance of sound.

Cambree is wrapped in a full sheet, hugging it closed across her middle, and seems to be in discussion with a portly, older woman. The two have concerned features but their voices are quiet, their postures prove they are at-the-ready.

Mistress Roslin would attempt to talk Cambree into bed, but she will rather continue walking while she can, and thanks her for her care.

[Raveness]

Lavender was indeed nervous with others around, but she had knew of the midwife who would be orchestrating the whole event. Thankfully, because Lavender only wanted to do her part and nothing more. Careful footsteps lead her into the room and she gently sat the bag down on the floor next to the bed, whose contents were not needed.. at least not yet.

She would have pummeled Cambree with questions had they been alone, in a frenzy of nerves interwoven with excitement, but instead tries to appear quite calm, with just a slight edge of worry.

"What shall I do?" She asks of anyone in the room, a hand roaming upwards to tuck her red hair behind her, so that it is out of the way, while sweaty palms are wiped on the front of her pale pink dress.

[Wendy]

That's when Cambree sees her cousin. She pardons herself from the birthing expert mid-conversation, with apology, and moves toward Lavender. Steps are slow and wide, so slow that it takes in a half minute what could be managed within seconds. With this in mind, Cambree holds a self-conscious smile. She reaches for the sleeve of her cousin, needing to hold on. Deep, lengthy breaths in place of conversation, she keeps a tight fist in the sheet that coats her body and leans toward a brief kiss on Lavender's cheek.

When she can speak, her words fall in between the need for air, "I forgot my tea." Her green eyes could not be more serious. She then glances over her shoulder, seeing the one that opened the door and gives the girl a quick nod.

Her look returns to Lavender, who might be the only one in the room to understand concerns, "And I don't know who has the cat," her head shakes, as these matters of importance grow larger in her mind, but to lose Jingles in the bursts of traffic going in and out of the kitchen would be devastating - especially in this moment.

Believing that the tea is still at rest in its special little box at the Baker house has set the mother-to-be on edge. She's been at least an hour in the birthing room, where everything else is just so. Laboring without the medicinal brew is, potentially, excruciating. She's only ever seen one woman go without - and that was hideous!

Cambree's pull on her cousin's sleeve is one that helps her to remain on her feet. "I think it's better if we sit." However, pressure bores to the bowl of her pelvis, and she is unable to move just yet. Another round of gripping hands and prolonged breathing erupts.

[Cinnabar]

This really is good brandy, and by halfway through the second glass Cinnabar's starting to settle, though he still glances constantly towards the stairs, tilting his head as if he might hear how things are going in the rooms up above.

"I've lost count of the number of things I've done in Myrken Wood that I've never done before. It shouldn't be much different this time - just another adventure, right?" An unsteady grin for the mapmaker, the pair of them having been given a bit of space over to one side of the kitchen after the initial congratulations.

"But it's not the same - this is out of my hands now. I've not had to just wait like this before, and I don't much care for it."

[Glenn]

Glenn was carefully watching that intake. By now he had a good idea just how much or how little it took to get the Governor drunk, a good piece of information when it came to preventing embarassing incidents. Right now, he's figuring it's better to let him drink now and cut him off sooner than later than make him pace himself and prolong the intake.

Still, there was something to that statement. "I know the feeling. Well, not the SPECIFIC feeling, but the general idea." Glenn's got no ingrained love of power. He only took as much as he did and pushed for it as hard as he did because of an extreme abhorrance towards helplessness in the face of danger towards the things he cared about. So there was some real sympathy her. "But you did do something. You prepared. She's in a safe environment, surrounded by trustworthy, skilled people. You can't always be on the front line, and sometimes you shouldn't be. One of these days I'll actually convince you of that too." The fact that Glenn had a habit of rushing off as well, even when he was less shielded and not as martially suited as Cinnabar didn't help the argument. "I think we're right where we're supposed to be for this one anyway. Seriously, Cinn. Just don't set the house or yourself... or me on fire and you'll have done your job well." Well, Cinnabar could set himself on fire but it would probably be counterproductive for the rest of it. "The trick, best I can tell, is to minimze anything else Cambree has to worry about. We're watching her flanks. ... Well, not LITERALLY of course. I think Master Deost could make a better military metaphor than I could." Or Agnie. Maybe Agnie. Actually, he might pay good money to hear that and grinned at the thought. Well, he was keeping Cinnabar occupied at least, right?

[Raveness]

Lavender smiles warmly at the large strides and the amount of time it takes for Cambree to reach her. Lavender has to be strong now and helps to hold up her dearest relative. It wasn't the first time, nor the second, Lavender had been along for the birth ride with Cambree.

Tea. Lavender thought it was funny how in this very moment, it was what her cousin was fretting about. Pain is pain, however, and she understood the urgency. Lavender turns to the girl who had let her in and with careful instructions, through the breathless instructions from Cambree, sends her on the way to obtain the necessary tea. Lavender wasn't about to leave her cousin and risk missing the birth.

"Be quick." Lav instucts the girl, firmly. Almost too firmly, not wanting Cambree to have to go without. This puts a new fright into Lavender's usually timid eyes. What if the girl didn't return in time?

Her head turns back to Cambree as she begins to rattle off about the.. cat? Was she hearing her right? Lavender grinned at her cousin and patted her shoulders, to try and calm the older one's fears. It was always something with this one.

"Yes yes.. the cat.. right. Jingles. I am sure your ..... husband... " Lavender was tongue tied. She never knew exactly what was proper and respectful to call Cinnabar.. ".. I mean.. the Governor.." she tried to correct.. "will take good care. He is capable." Well, at least Lavender hoped he was. I mean, they were about to have a child and he would have to be responsible sometime. Right?

Then the worried soon to be mom was telling Lavender to sit, but wasn't moving herself. Lavender took note and waited patiently for the right moment, but nodded her head to let Cambree know that she understood and heard. Lavender helps to support and keep her steady until Cambree is able to move.

[Jirai]

The young Trader was no where to be seen.

But that did not stop her from paying very close attention, using ears and eyes that were not her own.

[Wendy]

They keep getting looks from the midwife. Her face shows a great deal of restraint, prompting another visit from Cambree's apologetic smile. "We really should sit.." she warns, keeping her voice low for her cousin. Sensation has freed her fingers from the smaller one's dress, allowing her to walk - again slowly, widely, leading with bare knees and dragging a train of bed cloth in her wake.

The bed is a throw from the door, but it may have been more like a tour of the lovely gardens beyond the Broken Dagger in the time she makes. Mistress Roslin is ready with a padding of linens on the bed's edge, granting the governor's wife the privilege to sit. There is a murmured thanks.

That tea is on its way is a good thing. Her tea. Not the shop's tea. She hopes that much was clear. A slow look toward Lavender reveals her next of concerns, but her lips remain closed.

Mistress Roslin's extra girl exchanges water for the fire. One hot and ready pot sits on the hearthstone, steaming. Cambree watches it's climb.

If she and Lav were in the Ajas, Cambree's mother would be there. Mistress Roslin is a very nice replacement, but she has no mark inscribed on her skin. Cambree smiles at her, but leans to press a shoulder against Lavender as soon as both are seated. No mention of missing anyone, just the touch from one of her tribe to another.

"Miss Roslin has been excellent help," she hopes is loud enough to hear, "I know we're going to be just fine." Her green eyes speak of confidence in her statement.

Minutes are bound to shorten as the hour creeps. The painful throbbing at the base of her spine has announced it.

[Raveness]

Lavender shuffles slowly with Cambree until they reach the bed. There, she settles her cousin before allowing herself to follow suit. Lavender sits down on the bed behind Cambree, allowing for support on both a physical and mental level. There is a comforting rub of Cambree's shoulder as it presses to her and then a gentle brush of her fingers through Cam's hair to soothe. Lavender's lips part and she begins an almost whispered lull of an ancient song that would be familiar to her cousin.

Once the song is finished, Lavender lets out a soft sigh. A release sigh. An 'everything's going to be okay' sigh. Her eyes glance repeatedly at the door and will continue until the girl is back with the tea.

There is also a glance towards her bag. The articles there can rest for now, but soon.. soon, they will need to be rescued.

Emerald eyes are pulled back to Cambree as she speaks and Lavender nods her head. "Fine, yes.. fine.. everything.. will be..." She struggles to stay strong when she is most needed, but Lav is definitely worried about the birthing.

For once, Lavender is wishing Cinnabar was there to steady them both.

[Wendy]

Steady. Sure, that's what she is, tucked against her cousin on the edge of what was to be the birthing bed. The song is a salve to go with slender hands that move across her shoulders. A grin slides Cambree's lips open until she responds by humming along. Soothing, that was, and so is the voice of their midwife when she addresses the two of them in inquiry.

"You must have a great deal of intuition," jokes Cambree, whose bouts of muscular cramping have become more demanding and difficult - so much that her fingertips threaten to tear into the sheet that clothes her body. Worry lines her brow. She slows her breathing and stares directly into the eyes of Mistress Roslin, nodding that she does think the time for tiny Calomel's delivery is closer still.

The midwife is instinctive enough to remain unobtrusive, yet continues to oversee the work going on in the room. If the girl downstairs will deliver the tea in time is of no matter to her, since she's confident that Cambree's third will arrive quickly enough.

Meanwhile, that girl must be asking in the kitchen. The other is checking that the space for the baby is well-equipped with fresh products for the bathing. She smiles a touch at the dressing gown displayed next to the basin's pedestal.

Coaxing breaths are occasionally disrupted by a gasp or murmured string of curses. Thankfully, her foreign words would be shared by only one person there.

[Raveness]

For the first time, Lavender carefully examines the midwife, now that they are not so far away from each other. For Lavender, it is all about trust and she doesn't seem to trust anyone but Cambree. No one here carries their mark, except of course the Governor, but he is downstairs. There is a doubting glare, one kept from Cambree's eyes, as the younger one holds the older.

Without moving from her position, she sticks out her leg to pull the bag she brought closer to her. Bending, she snatches it up onto the bed beside where the two rest.

Leaning, she whispers to Cambree, who is now speaking in their tongue, well.. cursing in their tongue.

"Lotion, I brought lotion, it will help until the tea comes. And petals, rose petals for the baby's first bath.. Yes?" All spoken in their language, so no other ears may hear in the room.

She is already pulling the lotion out from her bag, to rub onto Cambree's back and shoulders, even before she can reply.

[channe]

Magda takes in the situation -- a midwife, some of Cambree's girls. She would be unneeded upstairs. Instead, the Kaczmarek mother thinks she'll set up in the kitchen, humming, cooking and putting on the hot water, serving as backup. This might take a while, she thinks.

As she leaves, she sticks her head into the bedroom one last time -- "Ah, Missus Calomel, will be good, strong baby! You do not let him touch a sword, yes? Just brings trouble." A grin. And then:

"If need me, I am downstairs in kitchen, yes?" she whispers to Roslin and Lavender, and then goes to make herself useful. And as she passes Cinnabar and Glenn on the stairs, she reaches out to hopefully *snatch* that brandy from him -- "No! You must be *sober* to hold the baby, yes?"