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dee-writes-angst · 1 year ago

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RHODODENDRONS (Chapter Eight)

FEATURING Eris Vanserra x pregnant!reader

SUMMARY Lucien has found a healer whom he knows well enough to wake in the middle of the night. After ushering you in, you start to realize with a startling clarity that your baby is in much more danger than you had originally anticipated.

CONTENT WARNINGS depictions of labor, pain, and infant dangers, birth dangers (nuchal cord), Eris and Lucien being super sweet, don't worry there's some fluff at the end :)

AUTHORS NOTE I know a lot of you might be angry with me for not having Eris grovel, but because the situation is so dire, I decided that I was going to hold off on that until the next chapter. Don't you worry, he will be on his knees here pretty soon ;)

SERIES MASTERLIST

They turned a corner, the alleyway where you had been left in agony now coming into view. The sight of you on the ground, pale and trembling, sent a jolt of terror through Eris. He could see the blood, the pain etched on your face, and his resolve hardened.

Lucien slowed his pace, his face pale with worry as they approached. "We need to get her to a healer, now."

Eris dropped to his knees beside you, his hands shaking as he reached out to touch your face. "I’m here," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I’m here, and I won’t leave you."

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with a mix of pain and relief. "Eris… it hurts…"

He nodded, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I know, love. We’re going to get you help. Just hold on a little longer."

Lucien stood nearby, his eyes darting around the alley as if he could will a healer to appear. "Eris, we need to move her. We can’t stay here."

Eris nodded, his mind racing. He lifted you as gently as he could, his heart breaking at your pained whimper. "Stay with me," he murmured, his lips brushing your forehead. "We’re going to get through this."

Lucien led the way, his voice urgent as he spoke to Eris. "There’s a healer not far from here. We need to hurry."

Eris carried you, every step filled with determination and fear. He glanced at Lucien, a question burning in his eyes. "Lucien, do you… do you know why she’s here? Why she came to the Autumn Court?"

Lucien shook his head, his face a mask of worry. "No, she never told me. I assumed she was with you."

Eris’s heart clenched at the misunderstanding. There was so much Lucien didn’t know, so much he had to explain, but now was not the time. "We need to get her to safety first," he said, his voice rough with emotion.

As they approached the healer’s door, Lucien banged on it urgently, shouting for help. Eris held you close, his mind filled with thoughts of the future, of the promises he had made. He couldn’t lose you, not now, not ever.

The door swung open, and the healer took one look at you before ushering them inside. Eris laid you gently on the bed, his hand never leaving yours. "Stay with me," he whispered again, his voice breaking. "I love you, and I’m here."

As the healer worked, Eris stood by your side, his heart heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. He looked at Lucien, a silent plea in his eyes. There would be time for explanations, for truths to be revealed. But for now, all that mattered was you and the life they were about to bring into the world.

Eris vowed that he would do whatever it took to keep you safe, to be the man you needed him to be. And as he held your hand, he prayed that it wouldn’t be too late.

The moment Eris finally came to your side, a surge of relief and fear washed over you. His touch, warm and reassuring, anchored you amidst the whirlwind of pain and uncertainty. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shirt, the fear for your child gnawing at your insides. The agony of labor had already taken its toll, but the sight of Eris beside you brought a flicker of hope.

As Eris and Lucien carried you to the healer’s door, every jolt and bump sent waves of pain crashing through you. You held on to Eris, your eyes locking with his, the fear evident in your gaze. “It hurts so much,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the intensity of your contractions.

“We’re almost there,” Eris murmured, his voice a soothing balm despite the urgency in his eyes. “Just hold on a little longer.”

The healer's door opened, and you were ushered inside. The room was dimly lit, the scent of herbs and antiseptics hanging in the air. The healer, a woman with kind eyes and steady hands, quickly assessed the situation.

“Get her on the bed,” she instructed, her voice calm but firm.

Eris gently laid you down, his hand never leaving yours. The healer examined you, her brow furrowing with concern. “The baby’s in distress,” she said, her tone serious. “The umbilical cord is wrapped around its neck.”

Panic surged through you, your heart pounding in your chest. “No, please,” you gasped, tears streaming down your face. “Save my baby.”

The healer nodded, her hands moving with practiced efficiency. “I need you to push, but carefully. We need to get the baby out quickly.”

The pain was unbearable, every contraction a wave of agony that left you breathless. You gritted your teeth, pushing with all your strength, Eris’s voice a constant presence in your ear, urging you on. “You’re doing great,” he whispered, his voice breaking with emotion. “Just a little more.”

But the baby wasn’t moving. The healer’s expression grew more concerned, her hands working frantically. “The baby is stuck,” she said, her voice tense. “We need to act fast.”

Fear clawed at you, the thought of losing your child unbearable. “Please, do something,” you begged, your voice a desperate plea.

The healer nodded, her hands moving with a renewed urgency. She turned to Eris and Lucien. “I need you both to help me. Hold her steady and keep her calm.”

Eris moved to your side, his hands gripping yours tightly. “I’m here,” he said, his voice steady despite the fear in his eyes. “We’re going to get through this.”

Lucien stood on your other side, his presence a surprising comfort. “You’re strong,” he said, his voice gentle. “You can do this.”

You pushed again, the pain overwhelming, but the healer’s hands were sure and steady. She manipulated the baby, her movements precise. “One more big push,” she instructed. “This is it.”

With a final, agonizing effort, you pushed with all your might. The room seemed to blur, the pain and fear merging into one intense sensation. Then, suddenly, there was a cry – a loud, piercing wail that filled the room.

The healer lifted the baby, her expression one of relief. “It’s a girl,” she said, her voice filled with warmth. “And she’s healthy.”

Tears of relief and joy streamed down your face as the healer placed the tiny, squirming bundle in your arms. You looked at Eris, his eyes filled with love and awe, and then at Lucien, who stood back, a mixture of emotions playing across his face.

Eris leaned down, his forehead touching yours. “You did it,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. “She��s here, and she’s perfect.”

You looked down at your daughter, her tiny fingers wrapping around yours, and felt a surge of love so powerful it took your breath away. The fear and pain melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of completeness.

The pain and fear had been worth it. Your daughter was here, and she was safe. And as you looked into her tiny, bright eyes, you knew that you would do anything to protect her and give her the best life possible.

As you held your newborn daughter in your arms, a sense of peace settled over the room. Her tiny fingers wrapped around yours, and her eyes, a vivid mix of green and amber, looked up at you with curiosity. You glanced up at Eris, who was kneeling beside you, his gaze filled with pride and love.

Lucien, standing a bit further back, took a step closer. He had been quietly supportive throughout the ordeal, but now his eyes were locked on the baby. A frown creased his forehead, and he leaned in, his eyes narrowing as he studied the child’s features more closely.

Your daughter yawned, her small face scrunching up in a way that was unmistakably familiar. Lucien’s breath hitched as realization dawned on him. The resemblance was uncanny – her eyes, the shape of her nose, the hint of a reddish tint in her hair.

“Wait,” Lucien murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Her eyes… they’re… she looks like…” His words trailed off, his eyes wide with shock and confusion. He looked at you, then at Eris, searching for answers.

You turned to face him, your heart heavy with the truth that you had kept hidden for so long. “Lucien,” you began, your voice trembling. “I need to tell you something.”

Lucien shook his head, taking a step back. “No,” he said, his voice breaking. “This can’t be. Eris, tell me it isn’t true. Tell me she’s yours.”

Eris looked away, his jaw clenched, a mix of pain and resignation in his eyes. “She’s not mine, Lucien,” he said quietly. “She’s yours.”

The room fell silent, the weight of the revelation hanging heavy in the air. Lucien’s eyes filled with a mix of disbelief and anguish. He stumbled back, his hand covering his mouth as he tried to process the truth.

“How?” Lucien whispered, his voice raw with emotion. “When… when did this happen?”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you held your daughter closer. “It was Calanmai,” you said, your voice barely audible. “When… when we thought it was for the greater good of the Spring Court. I didn’t know I was pregnant until much later. I… I’m so sorry, Lucien. I should have told you.”

Lucien looked at the baby, his expression torn between anger and heartbreak. “And Eris?” he asked, his voice shaking. “How did he find out?”

Eris sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I found out that you two were together when you showed up in the court. She confessed everything a few weeks ago when I confronted her about it. I… I needed time to process it. That’s why I left.”

Lucien’s eyes flashed with anger. “I cant believe you left her alone to deal with this over… over some stupid opportunity to figure out how you might feel. The girl might be mine brother, but I never fell in love with her mother.”

“I didn’t know what to do!” Eris snapped, his own voice filled with anguish. “I was trying to protect her, to give myself space. I thought… I thought it was best..”

The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with unresolved emotions. You looked at Lucien, tears streaming down your face. “Please, Lucien,” you begged. “I know this is a lot to take in, but our daughter needs you.”

Lucien’s eyes softened as he looked at the baby. He took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging with the weight of the revelation. “I’m here,” he said finally, his voice choked with emotion. “I’m here for both of you..”

Eris stepped back, his face a mask of pain. “I’ll give you some space,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible. “Take care of her, Lucien. She needs you.”

As Eris turned to leave, you reached out, grabbing his hand. “Don’t you dare leave me again, Eris Vanserra,” you pleaded, your voice breaking. “We need you too. Please, stay.”

Eris looked at you, his eyes filled with sorrow. “I don’t know if I can,” he said, his voice trembling. “I don’t know if I can handle this.”

Lucien's eyes were still wet with tears as he looked at the tiny life cradled in your arms. He took a deep, steadying breath, the weight of his decision pressing heavily on him. Finally, he spoke, his voice a mixture of determination and sorrow.

"I want to be part of her life," Lucien began, his gaze shifting between you and Eris. "But not as her father."

You and Eris exchanged a surprised glance. Lucien continued, his voice growing more resolute. "Eris, I want you to take over all rights to the child. You’ve been here for her, for both of them, and you should be the one to raise her."

Eris's eyes widened, and he shook his head slightly in disbelief. "Lucien, are you sure about this? She's your daughter—"

"I know," Lucien interrupted, his voice breaking slightly. "But I believe this is what’s best for her. I’ve seen how much you care for them, how much they both mean to you. And I… I don’t want to disrupt her life by trying to step in now."

Tears welled in your eyes again as you looked at Lucien, gratitude and sadness mixing within you. "Lucien… I…"

He held up a hand to stop you. "I’ll always be here for her, as her uncle. I want her to know she has family who loves her. But I think it’s best if she grows up with you as her father, Eris. Someone she can look up to and trust completely."

Eris swallowed hard, his own emotions threatening to overwhelm him. "I promise," he said, his voice firm. "I promise to take care of her, to love her, and to give her the life she deserves."

Lucien nodded, relief and pain evident on his face. "That’s all I need to hear. Thank you, Eris."

A heavy silence filled the room, the gravity of the decision settling over all of you. Lucien stepped closer to the baby, his eyes softening as he looked at her. "She’s beautiful," he whispered, a small, sad smile tugging at his lips. "I’m glad she has both of you."

You reached out, placing a hand on Lucien’s arm. "Thank you, Lucien. For everything. I’ll make sure she knows how much you care about her."

Lucien nodded, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "That’s all I could ever ask for."

Eris stepped forward, placing a hand on Lucien’s shoulder. "We’ll do this together. As a family."

Lucien took a deep breath, nodding once more before stepping back. "I should give you some time. There’s a lot to process, and she needs you right now."

As Lucien turned to leave, you called after him. "Lucien, wait." He paused, looking back at you. "You’re always welcome here. Anytime."

A grateful smile spread across Lucien’s face. "Thank you. I’ll see you soon."

With that, Lucien left the room, leaving you and Eris alone with your daughter. Eris looked down at you, his eyes filled with love and determination. "We’ll get through this," he said softly, his voice steady. "Together."

You nodded, tears streaming down your face as you held your daughter close. "Together," you echoed, finding strength in his presence.

And as you looked at the tiny life in your arms, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, as a family.

TAGLIST

@purple-writer8 @defnotlucienvanserra @cherry-cin @julesofvolterra @mirandasidefics @mandziaaa @lilah-asteria @littlestw01f @skylarkalchemist @babypeapoddd @daardyrnitta @talesofadragon @thecraziestcrayon @asaucecoveredsomething @starryhiraeth @darling006 @rosewood-cafe @saltedcoffeescotch @dumblani @paleidiot @rcarbo1 @yourmomsushi

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dee-writes-angst · 1 year ago

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LILIES (Chapter Six)

FEATURING Eris Vanserra x pregnant!reader

SUMMARY moving on from Eris is impossible, the grief you carry around is unbearable even with the help of your new (ish) friend Lucien.

CONTENT WARNINGS angst, arguing, leaving, grief (over someone who is still alive), major injuries, labor, brief descriptions of blood, Beron (iykykyk), themes of depression, mentions of reader not taking care of themselves, mentions of eating struggles

AUTHORS NOTE only two more chapters to go until it's all over!! I am so sad to see this amazing experience start to come to an end especially because I treasure each and everyone of you who has enjoyed my writing and decided to come along for the ride. Try not to kill me after this chapter, k? >:)

SERIES MASTERLIST

The days following Eris’s departure were a blur of heartache and despair. Each morning, you woke with the heavy realization that he was truly gone, the emptiness beside you a stark reminder of the love and companionship you had lost. You found yourself drifting through the hours, your mind replaying the moments of your last encounter, the anguish in Eris’s eyes haunting you.

Lucien was a constant presence throughout that week, his concern for you unwavering. He visited your chambers multiple times a day, bringing you meals and ensuring you were taking care of yourself and the baby. Despite your best efforts to hide your pain, Lucien saw through the facade, his keen eyes missing nothing.

“Have you eaten today?” Lucien asked gently one morning as he entered your room, carrying a tray laden with food.

You looked up from where you sat by the window, staring out at the gardens below. The vibrant colors of the flowers seemed muted, the beauty of the world outside failing to penetrate the numbness inside you. “I’m not hungry,” you replied softly, turning your gaze back to the view.

Lucien set the tray down on the small table beside you, his expression a mix of concern and determination. “You need to eat,” he insisted, pushing a bowl of fresh fruit toward you. “For the baby’s sake, if not for your own.”

At the mention of your baby, you placed a protective hand over your swollen belly, feeling the gentle flutter of movement beneath your palm. “I know,” you sighed, picking up a piece of fruit and taking a small bite. The flavors were bland, your appetite dulled by the overwhelming sorrow that clouded your mind.

Lucien sat down across from you, his gaze unwavering. “I’m worried about you,” he admitted, his voice filled with genuine concern. “You can’t go on like this. You have to find a way to move forward, for your sake and for the baby’s.”

Tears welled in your eyes, and you looked away, unable to meet his compassionate gaze. “I don’t know how,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Everything feels so hopeless without him.”

Lucien reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “You’re stronger than you realize,” he said softly. “You’ve faced so much already, and you’ve come out the other side. You can do this too.”

Despite his comforting words, the days continued to blend together in a haze of grief. You spent most of your time in your chambers, the outside world seeming distant and unimportant. Lucien’s visits were the only interruptions in your solitary existence, his presence a reminder that you were not entirely alone.

As you sat by the window, your eyes tracing the familiar paths of the garden below, memories of the walks you and Eris used to take together filled your mind. You recalled the way his hand would fit perfectly in yours as you strolled through the winding paths, the conversations that ranged from deep thoughts, insecurities, and fears to light-hearted banter about nothing at all. Those moments had felt like pure magic, a respite from the chaos of the world, and a testament to the bond you shared.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the room in a warm, golden light, Lucien entered with a gentle knock. “I brought you something special,” he announced, holding up a small box. “I thought it might cheer you up.”

You managed a small smile, appreciating his efforts to lift your spirits. “What is it?”

He opened the box to reveal an assortment of your favorite pastries, the sweet aroma filling the room. “I remember you mentioning these once,” he said, placing the box on the table. “I had the cook make them for you.”

The gesture touched your heart, and for the first time in days, you felt a flicker of warmth. “Thank you, Lucien,” you said, your voice choked with emotion. “You’ve been so kind to me.”

Lucien smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “It’s the least I can do,” he replied. “You’re important to me, and I want to see you happy again.”

Lucien coaxed you out into the gardens the very next week, his persistent kindness finally wearing down your reluctance. At 39 weeks pregnant, every movement was a chore, and you had been experiencing intermittent pains that you brushed off as mere discomfort from carrying your child. The idea of visiting the gardens, a place where you and Eris had built so many memories, filled you with a mix of nostalgia and pain. But Lucien’s gentle urging and genuine concern convinced you to give it a chance.

“Come on,” Lucien said, his voice soft but insistent. “The fresh air will do you good, and the gardens are beautiful this time of year. It might help to clear your mind.”

“I don’t know, Lucien,” you said, placing a protective hand on your swollen belly. “It was our place, where we grew to know and love each other. I’m not sure I’m ready.”

Lucien knelt beside you, his eyes filled with understanding. “I know it’s hard. But sometimes revisiting those places can help us heal. You don’t have to say anything, just let the garden work its magic. And I’ll be right there with you.”

You looked into his earnest eyes, seeing the care and concern that had been your lifeline these past few weeks. With a deep breath, you nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Lucien helped you up, and you both made your way to the gardens. The sun was warm, a gentle breeze rustling through the leaves, carrying the sweet scent of blooming flowers. The familiar pathways brought a lump to your throat, each step a painful reminder of the love you had lost.

As you walked, the intermittent pains in your belly became more noticeable, but you brushed them off as mere discomfort from being on your feet. Lucien pointed out various plants and flowers, trying to distract you with light conversation. Despite your initial reluctance, you found yourself beginning to relax, the beauty of the gardens working its magic as Lucien had promised.

“You know, I’ve always loved this part of the garden,” Lucien said, stopping by a cluster of vibrant roses. “It reminds me of home, of simpler times.”

You managed a small smile, your mind drifting back to the countless times you and Eris had stopped at this very spot, sharing stolen kisses and whispered promises. The memory brought a fresh wave of pain, but also a bittersweet comfort.

Lucien’s voice broke through your thoughts. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his eyes filled with concern.

“I’m okay,” you lied, wincing as another pain shot through your abdomen. “Just a bit tired.”

Lucien frowned, his sharp eyes noticing your discomfort. “Are you sure? You seem a bit… off.”

You waved off his concern, not wanting to worry him. “It’s just the baby being active, I think. Nothing to worry about.”

He nodded, though his expression remained skeptical. “Alright, but if it gets worse, promise me you’ll let me know.”

“I promise,” you said, trying to sound reassuring.

As you continued to walk, the pains grew more frequent and intense, but you were determined to push through. You didn’t want to spoil this moment, this brief reprieve from the constant ache of your heart. But as you neared the center of the garden, where a small fountain gurgled peacefully, the pain became too much to ignore.

Lucien’s eyes widened in alarm as you doubled over, clutching your belly. “Hey, are you alright?” he asked, his voice filled with panic.

“I think… I think something’s wrong,” you gasped, the realization finally dawning on you that these weren’t just random pains. “Lucien, I think I’m in labor.”

His face paled, but he quickly sprang into action. “Okay, we need to get you to the medical wing, now.”

As Lucien hurriedly pushed you through the ornate hallways of the palace, aiming for the medical wing, your discomfort escalating with each moment, the last thing either of you expected was to run into Beron. The formidable lord of the Autumn Court was not supposed to be aware of your presence within the palace, a secret Eris had helped to keep. Yet there he stood, emerging from a shadowed alcove, his sharp gaze landing on you with immediate suspicion.

“Lucien, what is this?” Beron's voice cut through the tension, as cold and unwavering as the stone walls that surrounded you. His eyes flicked from you to Lucien, narrowing in displeasure.

Lucien, momentarily taken aback, recovered quickly, his arm instinctively tightening around you as if to shield you from Beron’s piercing gaze. “Father, she needs help. We were just—”

“Who is she?” Beron interrupted sharply, stepping closer. His towering presence felt oppressive, his aura exuding authority and control.

You could see Lucien hesitate, his eyes darting between you and his father, weighing his words. “A friend who requires immediate medical attention,” he attempted to explain, his tone carefully neutral.

Beron’s eyes finally settled on your swollen belly, his suspicion turning into derision. “A friend, or another of your irresponsible entanglements?” His voice was laden with scorn. “We do not run a charity for wayward souls here, nor do we harbor strangers without my knowledge.”

Lucien’s jaw tightened visibly, and he opened his mouth to protest, but Beron cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I will not allow it. Remove her from the palace immediately. She is not to receive aid here.”

Panic flared in your chest as you clutched at Lucien's arm, your other hand pressing against the waves of pain that threatened to buckle your knees. “Please,” you managed to gasp out, the effort leaving you breathless, “I need help.”

Beron’s gaze on you was unyielding, his decision firm. “Take her to the city or wherever you wish, but she leaves the palace grounds now. We will not be involved in this farce.”

Lucien, a mixture of anger and desperation painting his features, tried once more. “Father, she’s in labor, she could die if—”

“Not our concern,” Beron interrupted coldly. “You know my rules, Lucien. Now, obey them.”

Defeated and running out of time, Lucien nodded curtly to his father, the resignation in his eyes cutting deeper than any words could. He supported you gently, leading you away from the medical wing and towards the main entrance of the palace. Each step was agony, and your mind raced with fear not only for your unborn child but also for the lack of compassion from someone you had hoped might show even a trace of empathy.

The cool evening air of the Autumn Court hit you as Lucien guided you through the palace gates. The streets seemed darker, more foreboding than ever before, and as you stepped into the unknown, supported by Lucien, the harsh reality of your situation settled heavily upon your shoulders. You were alone, vulnerable, and in desperate need of care, cast out by the very power that ruled the land you now walked upon.

Lucien's steps quickened through the dimly lit streets of the Autumn Court, each of his movements marked by a desperate urgency as he supported your faltering steps. The pain rippled through you with increasing intensity, a relentless tide that drained your strength and muddied your thoughts.

"Please, Lucien, I can't," you gasped, the sharp spasms of labor gripping you tightly, forcing you to a sudden, halting stop. Your hands clung to him, your body bent in agony.

Lucien’s face was a mask of concern, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of help. "Just a bit further, we’ll find someone, a healer—anyone." His voice was strained, a thin veneer of calm barely concealing the panic beneath.

You shook your head, each movement a stab of pain. "No, I—I need Eris. Please, Lucien, find Eris. I can't do this without him," you pleaded, tears streaming down your face, mingling with the sweat of your brow.

Lucien hesitated, his gaze torn between you and the path ahead. "I don't know where he is," he admitted, his voice cracking with frustration. "And we don’t have time—he might be miles away."

But the pain was overwhelming, and in a heartbeat, your legs gave way, pulling both of you down into the gritty cold of an alleyway’s cobblestones. You collapsed against the hard ground, the rough edges biting into your skin, Lucien scrambling to cushion your fall.

"I can't walk anymore," you cried out, the words a choked sob. "Please, just go. Find him. Leave me, I can't—"

"No!" Lucien's response was vehement, his hands gripping yours tightly. "I won't leave you alone like this." His eyes darted desperately from your pain-contorted face to the empty street. There was no one, no help in sight, and the realization of your isolation seemed to settle heavily upon him.

He rushed you to every shop down the street, dragging you along as best he could, but it was late, and the few healers he could think of were not answering, their shops closed, their homes silent.

"Please, Lucien, you have to go—find Eris," you begged again between contractions, your voice barely above a whisper now.

Lucien looked down at you, agony etched across his features, torn between his instinct to stay and protect you and the desperate plea in your eyes. Finally, with a heavy heart, he nodded, squeezing your hand one last time. "I’ll find him," he promised, his voice thick with unshed tears. "Hold on, just hold on."

With that, Lucien stood, casting one last look at you lying vulnerable and writhing in pain, before turning and running back towards the palace, leaving you alone under the shadow of the night, hoping against hope that he could bring back Eris in time...

Alone and in agony in the shadow-strewn alleyway, you lay curled on the unforgiving cobblestones. Each contraction was a fierce, unrelenting wave of pain, tightening its grip around you, pushing you to the edge of consciousness. But now, an even more terrifying sensation joined the physical torment—a warm trickle of blood that stained your legs, a stark and frightening indicator of how dire your situation had become. Your skin, once flushed with the warmth of life, now felt clammy and cold, your body sweating despite the chill in the air.

Your mind, a whirlpool of thoughts and emotions, relentlessly circled back to Eris—his laugh, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the gentle timbre of his voice when he shared his deepest insecurities and dreams. The ache for his presence was overwhelming, engulfing every other sensation. Tears streamed down your face, mixing with the grime of the alley, each one a testament to your regrets and the secrets you had kept hidden—most of all, the truth about Lucien being the father of your child. This secret had fractured the foundation of your relationship with Eris, driving a wedge between what could have been and what was.

Amid the despair, you made a silent, fervent vow. If you made it through this night, you would cast aside all shadows of deceit. Lucien would hear the truth about everything, and you would pray for Eris’s forgiveness and understanding. Determination to no longer live behind the veil of secrets fortified your resolve.

Raising your head with great effort, blurred by pain, your gaze fell upon a small miracle—a cluster of purple lilies pushing through a crack in the cobblestones. Their vibrant petals stood out defiantly against the oppressive grey of the alley, a splash of color in the darkness. These flowers, thriving against all odds in such an inhospitable environment, became a beacon of hope for you. Their resilience was inspiring, their beauty a stark reminder of life’s persistence even in the most unforgiving circumstances.

You clung to the sight of the lilies, letting them anchor you through the waves of pain. They became a symbol of your own will to endure, to persist through the darkness and fear that enveloped you. Each painful contraction was met with a whispered promise into the chilly night air—promises of honesty, of love reborn, of a future where shadows would no longer darken your path.

In that desolate alley, under the dim glow of distant streetlamps that fought their way through the thick fog, the purple lilies stood as silent witnesses to your struggle. They seemed to encourage you to hold on, to fight through the pain and despair for your unborn child, for Eris, for the chance at a cleansed and open future. With each labored breath, you held onto the hope that Lucien would return swiftly, and that perhaps, he would bring Eris back to your side, in time to mend what had been broken and to welcome a new life together.

As the city's misty tendrils wrapped around the winding alleys, Lucien's footsteps echoed against the cobblestones, each one a thunderous drumbeat in the night. His breath came in ragged gasps, a desperate symphony of exertion and urgency. The dim light of distant streetlamps flickered overhead, casting long shadows that danced along the walls.

His heart pounded in his chest like a war drum, a relentless rhythm driving him forward with single-minded determination. The weight of his fear and concern for you hung heavy on his shoulders, urging him to push himself harder, faster, toward the medical wing where he hoped to find help for you.

The narrow streets seemed to blur together as he raced through them, the buildings looming like silent sentinels in the night. Shadows flickered and danced at the edges of his vision, teasing him with glimpses of what lay beyond. Every corner turned, every alley crossed, brought him closer to his destination, but the distance felt insurmountable, the obstacles in his path endless.

His senses were heightened, every sound magnified—the distant cry of a night bird, the rustle of leaves in the breeze, the faint echo of footsteps following his own. He dared not look back, for fear of what—or who—he might see.

Every fiber of his being was consumed by a single, relentless thought—to find help for you, to ensure your safety and well-being. With each passing moment, the weight of his fear and concern grew heavier, driving him forward with an urgency that bordered on desperation.

As he rounded a corner, his foot caught on a loose cobblestone, sending him stumbling forward with a sharp curse. But before he could regain his footing, he collided with a shadowy figure that loomed out of the darkness.

For a heartbeat, time seemed to stand still as Lucien recoiled, his heart pounding in his chest like a trapped animal. But as the figure stepped forward into the dim light of a nearby streetlamp, Lucien's breath caught in his throat.

"Eris?" he gasped, his voice barely more than a whisper. But the figure said nothing, its features obscured by the shadows, before vanishing into the darkness once more.

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