Author's Notes: Kinda a mature audience part...
DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc and 20th Century Fox. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters (Shal-Nyx Cael), the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author. The original character of K'yllyn Myrrdin is the intellectual property of Caeryn Myer, and is used with permission.
Two weeks later...
Marcus Stoforn, cross armed and intentionally blocking the doorway, shook his head. "I don't care who you are, but you are not to disturb her."
Clira and Yoda exchanged looks. "I need to speak with her."
"No. She needs her rest and is not be worried with your problems. Her body is taxed enough by the baby and I will not permit you to put undue stress on her."
Yoda tilted his head. "Problem there is?"
Stoforn squinted at the diminutive figure. "Yes, I've prescribed bedrest for the remaining duration of the pregnancy and as her doctor I do not want her disturbed unnecessarily. If you like I will bring her a message for you."
Clira was about to offer one when an agonising cry stopped her. Yanking her head to attention, recognising the cry from the woman she had spent nine years training, she gave the doctor a piercing look.
Stoforn turned and nearly ran into the cottage, fearing the reason behind the scream. Freezing in place as the scene was laid out before him, he shook himself back to his professional senses and came to the side of his patient.
Shal-Nyx, dropped on her hands and knees, was wincing, tears streaming down her face, biting her lip as the pain ripped through her abdomen with the ferocity of an angry tiger. Trying desperately to take a single breath, she was completely unaware of the presence of Qui-Gon at her side, trying to draw her attention and find out what was happening.
The doctor and the Jedi exchanged glances, Stoforn's face paling when he saw the look of unadulterated panic on the normally composed face of the male Knight. "When did it start?"
"Just now, everything was fine and then she screamed. Sweet Maker, this can't be-- "
"Let's get her on the floor, I need to examine her."
At that particular moment, standing out of the way in the doorway, Yoda lowered his head quietly as Aeon Clira suddenly felt a pang of guilt for being so harsh on her student.
There was nothing they could do but stand and watch.
Set on her back, Qui-Gon bracing her shoulders, Shal-Nyx whimpered. The edge had faded enough to let her breathe, but the tearing was replaced with a nearly intolerable burning; she couldn't even speak.
Watching as the doctor's face turned to a cross between frustration and worry, his blue eyes sought an answer. "Marcus... ?"
"I was afraid of this," he started, his mind working quickly. "It's preterm labour, I don't know if we can stop it."
"Try."
"Yes, of course." Standing up and going for his medical bag, Stoforn pulled a long needle from a case and withdrew a bottle of clear fluid.
And that was when Yoda stepped in, hobbling over to the writhing form.
Qui-Gon's gaze slipped briefly up to see the small Master extend a small hand, watching her body with unfocused eyes, eventually coming to her head. With a deliberate pace he rested his hand on her forehead, closing his eyes and concentrating, using formidable power drawn from the Force to help her.
Within a few moments Shal-Nyx had stopped shaking, the pain easing with the touch of energy, the pulled taut muscles falling limp in release of tension. Her breathing steadied, her eyes slitting open enough to expose a veil of agony over the grey irises.
Stunned into silence by the show of non-medical healing, Marcus Stoforn set the filled needle next to his bag, returning to her side, not sure if he had really seen what he just happened. "Shal-Nyx, can you hear me, it's Doctor Stoforn?"
She could in fact hear him, but finding every movement an effort, didn't speak.
Yoda lifted his hand slightly, lingering it still near her head. "Hear you she can. Stop the arrival you cannot."
Stoforn arched an eyebrow at the green creature.
Qui-Gon's voice was strained. "Take his word for it, Marcus. Master, will that be enough... ?"
"Live she will. The rest deal with later you will."
"Marcus?"
"I... guess. If Yoda here is correct she should start having contractions, but its still premature, I can't guarantee the child will survive, I, I'm sorry."
Seeing Shal-Nyx shudder, her eyes telling him that yes, she understood, Qui-Gon braced his buckling emotional control. They had gone this far... "Can we move her to the cushions then? We shouldn't have to have any more suffering than already given."
Stoforn nodded.
Without further incentive, the tall Jedi adjusted around and picked up his lover, setting her gently into the pillows, bracing her neck and upper back. The Calanese doctor walked around the side and knelt down again. "We need to brace her knees up also; and you might want to get towels. This is not exactly a 'clean' process."
Qui-Gon nodded, setting a stare on Clira. "Nothing personal, but if you're not here to help, get out. Master Yoda, I'm just not sure, can't we take all the pain away?"
Yoda's first action was to order Aeon Clira wordlessly to the cottage's bathroom to fetch towels and effectively out of the room. "No. Endure it she must. Get through it you will, faith you need in that."
Stoforn touched his arm. "He's right. Drugs could hurt both of them. Just stay with her, let her know you're here for her."
"Wild banthas couldn't drag me away, Marcus."
A little while later...
Even though the other occupants of the room were not entirely aware that she was coherent despite the flood of energy Yoda had used to bring her back, Shal-Nyx Cael was still having difficulty with the natural process of childbirth. Gratefully between contractions, weariness keeping her where she was, she was aware that her head was in direct contact with Qui-Gon Jinn, her back firmly braced and the doctor present.
If nothing else, she could tell because his gloved hands were colder than her flesh when he was checking her dilation.
Trying to draw a breath, the exhalation manifesting as a moan, she felt the strong fingers of Qui-Gon touch her cheek.
"Luv... "
"I'm... here," she winced, "sort of."
"You've been quiet, luv, are you alright?"
"Except for expressions of pain, you mean?" Realising her other hand was twined with one of his, she flexed her fingers, bracing through the building of another contraction. "And don't ask that question."
"Why?"
"If everything was alright we'd be doing this a month from no-- ooooh," she bit her lip, the muscles seizing the rest of her sentence away.
He sighed, lowering his head to hers, trying to ignore the death grip she was putting on his hand. Mouthing a silent plea to whatever entities might be listening, he hoped for an end soon.
A whimper escaped her throat.
The sooner the better.
Stoforn slid the blanket up her legs a little again, a dram of relief in his voice, "Well, it won't be too much longer, your water's broken."
Her response was to grumble, "Thank you so much for pointing out the obvious."
Qui-Gon kissed her forehead. "Sssshhhh, stick with this; you can yell at him later."
"Remind, aagh, remind me to slap you next time you mock me for lack of endurance."
The doctor smiled sympathetically. "It's all downhill from here. I'll be right back, okay? Just, well, just cry out in pain if I'm needed."
Wondering for a second if his hand was broken, the Jedi arched an eyebrow at Stoforn and then nodded.
Slipping off a glove and placing a hand on her abdomen, feeling for any signs of trouble, he finally stood up and stepped out of the cottage, greeted post haste by two uninformed and somewhat impatient Jedi Masters.
"Doctor?"
"Not long, I'd say. For her sake, everything is going well, but for the infant... " his voice trailed off, not wishing to jinx uncertainty.
Clira's arms were firmly tucked in her robes, her gaze concerned. "You don't know?"
"No," he confessed readily. "There's no way to tell since we're not in a medical facility, but I'm calling for a transport anyways."
"Bad feeling you have?"
"No, Yoda, I believe in being prepared for the worst. Pray, for her sake, that I have overprepared. And please, contact my wife."
The small Master nodded his head.
She was so damned tired. Everything hurt, not just her lower half and their seizing muscles, everything. From her scalp to her toes it felt as if someone had taken the effort to overwhelm every nerve ending she had.
And the intense, screaming pain every few minutes was not helping in any form whatsoever.
Stoforn was back, having wedged himself in so he could easily deliver the baby. Drawing her attention back and encouraging her to muster enough strength to push, she was finding it a struggle to do as he asked. Hearing his words like a distant echo in her mind, she caught the words she'd never thought she'd hear.
"That's it, one more time and you'll be done."
Qui-Gon, for his part, was doing well. Serving as her support, her back having decided it no longer wished to function, he held her hands in his, whispering words of encouragement in her ear. Drawing final dregs of strength, attempting to pull vital energy from the Force, she focused herself to that last push, collapsing back into Qui-Gon when the doctor told her to stop, panting.
What followed was the longest silence in her life, broken only by a weak, yet shrill crying and "Sweet Gods, he's small."
Qui-Gon's head snapped up. "Marcus?"
"He's alive." Recalling the rest of his duties, Stoforn reached for a clamp and scissors, cutting the umbilical cord. "But weak."
Shal-Nyx, reeling, finally finding her voice again, managed a "What, doctor?"
"I've got to get him to a clinic. I... " his voice trailed off, realising that he should give them at least some hope. "You have a son."
A tear welled in her eye as Stoforn wrapped the tiny infant in the receiving blanket and laid him her stomach. She let a small, grateful laugh coloured with tears escape her throat as she loosed her hands and cradled the child into her arms, wishing for that particular moment to never end.
His face a clear wash of awe and amazement, Qui-Gon Jinn brought a hesitant hand down, almost afraid to touch the milky flesh. Brushing a single fingertip over one of the minute hands, he felt a surge of unadulterated joy as the tiny fingers flexed in response.
His child. His son.
Kissing Shal-Nyx's forehead and wrapping his arms underneath hers, neither of them noticed when Stoforn discreetly covered her bare legs and left the room, once more heading for the fresh night air.
Clira stood immediately, already knowing why he was outside with them but wishing to hear the news anyways. "Well?"
"It's a boy."
Yoda's mouth curled into the smallest of smiles.
"But I do need to get him to the clinic. He needs to develop a little more in a pre-natal ward, otherwise... "
"Survive he will." It was more of a comment than question.
Marcus Stoforn gave Yoda a wary look. "We all hope so."
"Doctor, may I see them?"
Seeing Clira shift, he nodded, watching as the blonde woman immediately passed over the threshold. Stopping short to see the rare and priceless picture of the two younger Jedi cradling that tiny new life, Aeon Clira finally understood her former Padawan's feelings.
"Master?"
"Forgive me, I just wanted to check on you... two. Er, three."
Shal-Nyx smiled warmly, her gaze not having moved from the small bundle against her chest. "You can come and see, Master."
Clira hesitated. Why would she be welcome in such a private moment? "No," she managed finally, "this is your moment." Bowing and exiting, she waited until she was outside to exhale, amazed at herself for freezing up like that.
Qui-Gon laughed quietly, nuzzling her cheek. "She was intimidated by this little one?"
"Mm-hmm. And coming from the man who got scared by a cat, that's ironic."
"Point taken." Kissing her cheek, watching the little hand move and settle back into the blanket, he sighed. "He's so beautiful, I, I... where do we go from here?"
"I don't know, pet, but some serious rest is in order."
Stoforn cleared his throat, standing in the doorway.
"I've known you were there, good doctor."
He shuffled his feet. "I hate to do this to you but I need to get him into the premie ward. He may seem okay now but if he isn't under that kind of care he'll be sickly all his life."
Qui-Gon didn't say anything, knowing his was not the vote that counted. Nuzzling her cheek gently, he heard her sigh. "I know. I need my sleep anyways and its for the best."
Stoforn lowered his head, his role as a father of two drifting hauntingly across his thoughts. "I'll give you a few more minutes." With that, he walked back to the unused bedroom, fetching a few things, including the unused needle from earlier.
"Shala, maybe you should go with him... "
"Hush." Bringing the infant closer to her face and leaning down, she whispered a few inaudible words and kissed the tiny hand and forehead, lingering a few moments before lifting her head. "I'm staying here as are you."
He silenced his protest, knowing in the back of his mind that she was right.
"Doctor?"
Stoforn came out immediately.
"If you are prepared, you may take the child."
He paused, hearing no chagrin in her voice, merely exhausted acceptance. "Okay. I'll be back in a few hours to check on you and in a few days I'll bring you to the clinic."
Qui-Gon's voice was firm. "That would be a promise, Marcus."
"Yes it is." Crouching down, he let Shal-Nyx shift herself up, extending her arms gingerly out, Stoforn's sliding underneath the blanket as he took careful hold of the warm, living bundle.
Closing her eyes and resting her weight fully against Qui-Gon, she intentionally tuned out the next spanses of time, her eyes closed, not wishing to hear the sound of the transport leaving with their baby. Shifting a leg, she moaned.
"Luv?"
"I hurt more and am more tired than I have ever been in my entire life."
"I know."
"And I won't be doing this again anytime soon, which I seriously hope you don't object to."
"I know, and I don't object. But was it worth it?"
Falling quickly into the seductive hold of sleep, she murmured. "Every moment."
He smiled wistfully. Casting no thoughts to the near future, he shifted slightly, moving a pillow so he could lean back a little more, laying her back, her head comfortably resting on his chest, her body weak with exertion.
~Every moment.~