Holding My Last Breath

Chapter Twelve- Backed Against the Wall

Achilles' instincts were renouned. They kept him and almost all of his men alive in battle. They made him sharp and quick-witted, able to defeat someone in verbal and physical confrontation. He trained himself to get to the point were his instincts ran wut hut his consent, keeping him always on his toes.

But they slipped up on him. That's what he kept telling himself as he sat out on the balcony of Pat's room. The boy was asleep in his crib, exhausted from crying. Achilles didn't blame him for his tears. He missed the presence and love Briseis gave him. Being apart from her for nine days was hard on him. It was even harder that she was in the room right next to his.

The physicians said that sometimes a little bleeding red;red; just the body's way of adjusting to the burden of carrying a baby. The bleeding did cease, but she didn't recover. She lay unconscious on their bed, the breeze rippling her hair softly against the pillows. Her fever waivered from extremely hot to extremely cold.

She couldn't intake any food or fluids; her skin turning ashen as the days progressed. From a healthy figure under a warm glow, Briseis lost excess amounts of weight and looked a fragile as glass.

The only comfort was the timing. She was five days short of nine months. If she went intbor,bor, the child wouldn't be premature. But because of how weak she was, neither midwife nor physician could say whether Briseis would survive the birth. Achilles prayed everyday, watching her slowly draw light, feathery breaths, that she would survive.

The baby needed her, Pat needed her, he needed her.

The baby. In the back of his mind, he knew the outcomes of this situation. She gave birth and both were fine; the child would be taken and she would die; the child would die before birth; or both would die. The image of a pyre for either made his heart bleed. He wasn't prepared to lose, only gain a child. He knew only what it was like to have them both.

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Holding tightly to his son, Achilles took him for a horseback ride up and down the beach. Pat loved the feel of it, laughing and screaming with joy as they galloped in the ss eds edge. Briefly, it took their minds off the pain of waiting from Briseis to awaken. If she ever would.

They came back into the stables, kicking up sand as the horse pulled to a halt. Achilles jumped off, reaching up and bringing his son onto his shoulders. He headed towards the palace when he saw Carlonia rushing toward him.

"My lord!"

"What is it?," he asked in constraint. Achilles may have softened up a bit, but he still bore his shield around people.

"The lady Briseis," she said out of breath. "She's giving birth!" Achilles handed Pat to Carlonia and ran inside.

He heard a piercing cry followed by heavy breaths and moaning. He quickly entered the room and rushed to the bed side. Briseis was awake, sweat streaming down her sickly face. She cringed from the contractions, gritting her teeth as well.

When she opened her eyes, they met his. She gave a weak smile, gripping the hand that held her's. Neither said anything; she was extremely tired. She reserved her strength for bringing this child into the world. Another contraction hit her and she squeezed his hand tightly, crying out in pain.

Three hours passed and the child remained within. A few of the nurse maids worked with grave looks upon their face. Achilles heard them whisper that she would not make it; the child might die as well. But the midwife whd thd them off.

"They deliver one or two children and they think they have seen it all," she said, wiping Briseis' forehead with a wet cloth. "Do wor worry, my child. You will live to see this child grow strong." Briseis wanted to thank her for the support, but more pain shot through her weak frame.

Another hour drew by and she started to give out. Her body was unprepared for this, no weight, no muscle, no strength at all. She leaned against her husband, forcing herself to breath. She heard them whisper again: stillborn, dying from contractions, bleeding out. Tears streamed from her eyes onto her cheeks.

"I wonet tet this child die," she whispered, Achilles to only one able to hear her. He kissed her forehead, holding her tightly. He feared she might not be able to continue pushing, that this baby would be dead before it ever knew fresh air.

She screamed loudly, making everyone jump. The midwife smiled at her. "I believe this child wishes to be with us now." Briseis felt the bones and muscles of her legs stretch and move aside. More tears, cries, and hurt came to her. But she was determined thais cis child would live.

"On three my lady; one, two-" She pushed down with all that was left in her body. The pressure ceased and a tiny mew came forth. It quickly elev in in volume and their second child was placed in her arms, supported by Achilles. The babe cried out, confused and scared of the world outside the womb.

Briseis stroked her child's arm, letting the tiny fingers coil around her index finger. The child slowly quieted and hungrily suckled from his mother's breast. She leaned into Achilles, tears in her eyes and unable to sit up alone. Miraculously, Briseis found strength within to stay awake.

"Congratulations on the birth of your new prince," the midwife said, brushing her hair back. Briseis looked into Achilles eyes. He looked ragged and worry weathered.

"We have a son," she smiled. He grinned back, kissing her lips incredibly softly. He felt her body tremble from no strength and cradled her in his arms. The child lay feeding, eyes open at his parents. A fuzz of brown hair coated his head, eyes blue with tints of brown on the edges.

"He looks like you," Achilles said softly. Briseis' fingers stroked the down of his head, tracing his cheek down to his chin. The child finished feeding and lay in his mother's arms, wide awake. Briseis felt a tired darkness start to cover her. She shifted the child into Achilles arms and gently fell back into the pillows, closing her eyes in exhaustion.

"My baby," she whispered.

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She awoke to the sound of Pat's little voice. Turning her head, her heart warmed at the sight she beheld. Achilles sat on the couch, holding their youngest in his arms. Pat stood on the cushion, looking into his brother's face.

"Baby daddy?," the two year old said again, hopeful that he called the little one by the right title.

"Yes, its a baby. Your little brother." Achilles shifted his arm and pulled Pat close to him. She watched as her eldest touched the hand of his new sibling. It was weird to say that, her eldest and yest.est. Now she was the mother of two princes of Phtia, sons of Achilles. She smiled lightly and turned her focus back to her body.

Her hands showed the greatest signs of her condition. The skin stretched over her bones, pale and cold. She shifted her legs lightly, grimacing silently. The echoes of giving birth remained still on her thighs and hips. She pressed against her belly and the realization of what happened sunk in. Even after giving birth, women maintain weight from the pregnancy. As she lay there, Briseis realized she had not only lost the weight she gained, but more. She felt weak and sickly, exactly as she was.

She heard the hungry moans of her son and turned to see Achilles trying tck hck him into comfort. But the moans turned into sniffles and were about to become tears.

"I think he's hungry," she said softly. Achilles looked over to her, relief washing over his face. He crossed the room and helped her to sit up. Since she slept, some of her strength returned to her. She cradled the babe and he quieted down, instantly realizing he was in his mother's arms. She slipped her shoulder strap down, exposing her swollen breast. He latched on and lay perfectly content to feed.

"We were worried about you," Achilles said. "The midwife said you just needed sleep, so I didn't try to wake you."

"Thank you for that," she said, rocking lightly.

"How do you feel?"

"Tired, weak, hungry." She gave a small laugh, noting, "I haven't eaten anything in so long." Achilles went to say something when the baby pushed away from Briseis and lightly moaned. He watched with quiet amazement as Briseis brought the child up to just below her neck and rocked back and forth, humming lly. ly. The baby slid off into slumber under her warm gaze and sweet voice.

As he placed their newborn in his basinet, Pat climbed up the side of the bed and into her arms. She pulled him close, inhaling the scent of her child.

"Momma miss you," he garbled into her chest. She smiled and kissed his cheek, fingers running through his dusty blonde hair.

"I missed you too my darling." Achilles sat on the bed next to her, the basket-style basinet on the bed in front of them. Within, the child slept soundly. Briseis gladly accepted his arms around her, leaning back. They kissed, savoring each second of it. Pat on on his momma's lap, curled into her. "We haven't named him yet."

"I didn't want to without you. Have you thought of any?"

"Not until I saw him. I want to name him after my brother, Kytelus."

"Why?," Achilles asked with curiousity. She looked down into the basinet, eyes locked on her youngest child.

"When we were children, people would say that my brother and I looked like we were twins. Same hair, same eyes, same height. He was only a year older than me. He died in the attack on the city when I was five." She stroked Pat's hair absentmindedly. "You said he looked like me and so he looks like Kyte."

Achilles once again started to say something but was interupted by Pat's excited voice. "Kyte? Kyte kyte kyte kyte kyte kyte kyte."

"Well there's no going back now," he said, kissing her cheek. "He knows the name and won't give up on it."