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[ never before has alisaie so deeply, keenly known what it is to feel bittersweet.
arriving on hydaelyn again, surrounded by the familiar walls of the rising stones, eorzea's peoples and lands safe, restored, full - is it not what she had dreamt of since first she awoke in that icy pod? since she looked out over a wide vista of stars and attempted to process the fact that her home was gone? mourning an entire world had been a monumental effort, and when the news had come that their homes could yet be salvaged she had never been more relieved.
that relief, of course, had been soon followed by a sweeping despair. they were to return home, and only home, the natha had a duty to fulfill, to see to it that everything was restored exactly as it was, no exception, no compromise. for the greater good, they had insisted, and alisaie's heart had broken clean in two. she had made so many connections, so many close friends, she had carved a life out for herself on el nysa and -
- and prompto. to lose him forever was an ache she could not bear. she had already lost so much, so many, and to lose him.. of course she fought. she railed and shouted herself hoarse, she petitioned the natha again and again, begged, but they would not be moved. and so she was home again, surrounded by familiar walls and familiar friends, but on her clothing she could still smell prompto's skin, the sensation of his last kiss clinging to her mouth like a ghost.
a week of stunned grieving was all she allowed herself, but alisaie would not be defeated. traveling to other worlds.. it is possible, she has seen it done. the ascians, the warriors of the first - all had traveled between the planes, and alisaie was entirely certain, with all of her heart, that his eos was one of the many echoes, the worlds connected to her own by the sundering of the mothercrystal. prompto was gone and yet he still somehow felt so very close, just out of reach of her touch, her voice, her heart.
the pregnancy, of course, had been.. entirely unexpected. the natha had rendered them sterile, but she can only assume that they had reversed it some time before their restoration of their homes, long enough for him to quicken within her womb and leave her with a soul to remember him by, a sweet child with her own dark eyes and prompto's fair hair, and smile, and laugh that breaks her heart to hear. but gods she loves him, this little sunshine boy who thrives on touch and love, who sleeps well and smiles often and gives her the extra drive she needs to work, to finish, to find the way to drive open the doorway between their worlds. it is unstable, and unable to linger for long, it is entirely possible that this is a one-way trip, that she will never be able to find her way back, and that is all that stalls her. prompto is her heart, her husband, the mother of her child - but hydaelyn is her home, her family is here, and the thought of leaving her brother behind forever, leaving urianger, and the scions..
gods, it is nearly enough to unmake her, to convince her to abandon her work.
but they remind her, all of them, that prompto too is her family, that their child deserves to know his father, that if she does not make this step she will never see him again. she will.. simply have to do it again, to find a way to keep the doorway open. and if she has not, at least she has said her goodbyes, she has made her peace, and decided what it is that she needs.
and so that is what brings her here at last, to eos, where the air is thick with darkness, where the aether is in upheaval. gods, this is the home he had returned to? this is where he has been? the atmosphere is heady and oppressive, the roads swarmed with terrible daemons. she had made the right decision.
finding him, however, was much more difficult. finding her way to a well lit station had been difficult enough in a foreign world, and she had learned quickly to arrange her hair to cover her ears, avoiding questions she does not have the time to answer. but soon enough she had learned of him, where he was, and how to arrive there - to a city called lestallum, the last great bastion against the doom hovering on the horizon.
alisaie's heart is pounding when she arrives before the worn wooden door, in a narrow staircase with yellow walls, the paint peeling and the light harsh. she's ruffled and dusty with travel, exhausted and anxious, smelling of sweat and chocobo but once she had arrived in the city she could not bring herself to wait another second before searching him out, finding him. hefting the sleeping child higher on her hip, alisaie presses a kiss to his pale blonde head, taking a deep, stilling breath.
and she knocks. ]
arriving on hydaelyn again, surrounded by the familiar walls of the rising stones, eorzea's peoples and lands safe, restored, full - is it not what she had dreamt of since first she awoke in that icy pod? since she looked out over a wide vista of stars and attempted to process the fact that her home was gone? mourning an entire world had been a monumental effort, and when the news had come that their homes could yet be salvaged she had never been more relieved.
that relief, of course, had been soon followed by a sweeping despair. they were to return home, and only home, the natha had a duty to fulfill, to see to it that everything was restored exactly as it was, no exception, no compromise. for the greater good, they had insisted, and alisaie's heart had broken clean in two. she had made so many connections, so many close friends, she had carved a life out for herself on el nysa and -
- and prompto. to lose him forever was an ache she could not bear. she had already lost so much, so many, and to lose him.. of course she fought. she railed and shouted herself hoarse, she petitioned the natha again and again, begged, but they would not be moved. and so she was home again, surrounded by familiar walls and familiar friends, but on her clothing she could still smell prompto's skin, the sensation of his last kiss clinging to her mouth like a ghost.
a week of stunned grieving was all she allowed herself, but alisaie would not be defeated. traveling to other worlds.. it is possible, she has seen it done. the ascians, the warriors of the first - all had traveled between the planes, and alisaie was entirely certain, with all of her heart, that his eos was one of the many echoes, the worlds connected to her own by the sundering of the mothercrystal. prompto was gone and yet he still somehow felt so very close, just out of reach of her touch, her voice, her heart.
the pregnancy, of course, had been.. entirely unexpected. the natha had rendered them sterile, but she can only assume that they had reversed it some time before their restoration of their homes, long enough for him to quicken within her womb and leave her with a soul to remember him by, a sweet child with her own dark eyes and prompto's fair hair, and smile, and laugh that breaks her heart to hear. but gods she loves him, this little sunshine boy who thrives on touch and love, who sleeps well and smiles often and gives her the extra drive she needs to work, to finish, to find the way to drive open the doorway between their worlds. it is unstable, and unable to linger for long, it is entirely possible that this is a one-way trip, that she will never be able to find her way back, and that is all that stalls her. prompto is her heart, her husband, the mother of her child - but hydaelyn is her home, her family is here, and the thought of leaving her brother behind forever, leaving urianger, and the scions..
gods, it is nearly enough to unmake her, to convince her to abandon her work.
but they remind her, all of them, that prompto too is her family, that their child deserves to know his father, that if she does not make this step she will never see him again. she will.. simply have to do it again, to find a way to keep the doorway open. and if she has not, at least she has said her goodbyes, she has made her peace, and decided what it is that she needs.
and so that is what brings her here at last, to eos, where the air is thick with darkness, where the aether is in upheaval. gods, this is the home he had returned to? this is where he has been? the atmosphere is heady and oppressive, the roads swarmed with terrible daemons. she had made the right decision.
finding him, however, was much more difficult. finding her way to a well lit station had been difficult enough in a foreign world, and she had learned quickly to arrange her hair to cover her ears, avoiding questions she does not have the time to answer. but soon enough she had learned of him, where he was, and how to arrive there - to a city called lestallum, the last great bastion against the doom hovering on the horizon.
alisaie's heart is pounding when she arrives before the worn wooden door, in a narrow staircase with yellow walls, the paint peeling and the light harsh. she's ruffled and dusty with travel, exhausted and anxious, smelling of sweat and chocobo but once she had arrived in the city she could not bring herself to wait another second before searching him out, finding him. hefting the sleeping child higher on her hip, alisaie presses a kiss to his pale blonde head, taking a deep, stilling breath.
and she knocks. ]
right........
I mean, he's so relieved!! The babies aren't here yet, and she doesn't seem to be...having them...in this precise moment. The scene he steps into is actually much quieter and calm than he would have expected, even if it looks like Alisaie has - well - two humans trying to get out of her body.
He's at her side in an instant, winding their fingers together, peering into her face with abject relief. ]
I-I'm here, sweetheart - I'm so sorry, I got her as quick as I could...
[ He shouldn't have left today, evidently, but at least he's here now. ]
H-how far along...?
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.. but for now she's quite happy to see him, her fingers grasp tightly at his own, and she offers a tired, relieved smile. ]
I cannot say. It is not an exact science.
[ so like, a half hour, or a day. ah, the wonderful mysteries and surprises of childbirth. at the very least her contractions are beginning to intensify and lengthen, so she can hazard a few assumptions. ]
.. but if I had to guess, I would say - nn - not long, now.
[ ahh here it comes, the wave is on the horizon, her fingers in his tightening, squeezing hard. ]
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O-okay - okay, just - just keep breathing -
[ Is he telling her this or himself? It is difficult to say. ]
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she cannot voice her aggravation, however, when the pain begins to crest, and her grasp on his hand becomes bonebreaking, her face twisting into a flushed grimace. her entire body is tightening up, cramping - if he thought dealing with her period cramps was bad, well, he's in for a surprise. ]
Gods -
[ she hisses, through her teeth, but like a wave, the swell of pain soon diminishes and she can breathe again, slumping back against the pillows, her grasp on his hand loosening.. but likely only just enough to not be shattering his fingers tbh. ]
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When she releases her hold on his hand, he straightens his fingers in hers, looking at how red they look. Welp... ]
That's it, sweetie. One down, and - a bunch more to go, probably!
[ Is this helping??? ]
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it isn't until some odd six hours later that we're finally making progress. it certainly hasn't been fun, alisaie's contractions intensify and occur rapidly, closer and closer together, prompto's hand likely ground to a pulp by her vise grip. all the ice chips in the world cannot quell her. but at last they arrive at the home stretch, and in a gentle voice, the nurse tells her it's time to push.
not that she needs much telling. when the time comes to push, you feel it, and it's an imperative urge, one she could not deny even if she wanted to. through a harrowing wail she bears down, seizing prompto's hand with bonebreaking force, her other clamped hard on the rail of the bed, knuckles white. ]
You - you -
[ she's incoherent with rage.. ]
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And he can't even feel his hand at this point. His heart is pounding and his blood rushes hard and quick against his ears, but he resists the urge to panic, or pass out, or scream - all which sound like pretty good ideas right now. She won't appreciate them, he suspects.
Instead, he decides to say more dumb things that will probably only infuriate her further, but hey, as long as she's still pushing... ]
C'mon, babe! Keep pushin'! Just a little bit more!
[ He has no idea if it's just a little bit more. Gods help him. ]
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Oh, I'll push - [ she hisses, through clenched teeth. ] I will - push you right out of that window for - for doing this to me - agh!
[ another surge, and she bears down again, twisting his battered hand in her own, bellowing a hellish screech. the nurses are unperturbed of course, this is not their first rodeo. another push, and there's a terrible, intense pressure in her back, an ache that threatens to split her in two, hauntingly familiar. why had she thought this was a good idea? why did they do this??
there we are, the nurse nearby says, soothing. it's coming along. just one more. ]
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Don't faint, don't faint, don't faint... ]
One more, sweetheart! One more push!
[ Once again, being helpful. Doesn't she just love the sound of his voice right now? ]
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one more push.
the pressure is overwhelming, but alisaie cannot deny the primal, visceral urge to push, to bear down one final time with all of her weight, all of her force. stars burst behind her eyes, she's dizzy with pain and effort, her head tossed back against the pillows as she howls, but at last that great tension gives. in a rushing flood of blood and fluid and mess, she comes into the world at last, the nurses quick to scoop the tiny babe into a fresh towel. she wriggles her tiny limbs and at last, in a great breath, gives a wailing squall.
quickly, one of the nurses holds a set of silver scissors out to prompto - can dad cut the cord without fainting?? ]
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And the tiniest, newest cry he has ever heard cuts into the air and right into his heart. His baby, his child...his eyes go to her immediately, the most perfect sight he has ever seen in this world or any world, and though his hands tremble as the nurse hands him the scissors, he cuts the umbilical cord. With that done, the nurses take a moment to clean her off - he had, of course, needed only one look to see it was a her - but it isn't long before they turn again, handing Alisaie the babe in this lull between children.
...There is, after all, one more munchkin in there to get out. But for now, they have at least this quick, quiet moment with the first of their twins, a beautiful, healthy baby girl.
Tears already spill freely down his cheeks as Prompto leans near, the baby's entire fist closing around just one of his fingers. ]
Sh-she's - she's beautiful.
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prompto is learning some things.
nevertheless, alisaie is incredibly grateful for the chance to catch her breath, to enjoy this brief reprieve. the babe is handed over to her, pink and healthy and wailing, and alisaie's heart splits in two, aching sweetly. she cradles her close, tucking her to her chest, pressing a kiss to her chest that lingers, so she can breathe in that wonderful scent of fresh, new skin. ]
Aye. [ she whispers, lifting her hooded eyes to prompto again, her smile warm and weary. ] She is.
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Prompto leans forward to press a soft kiss to the crown of the babe's head, smoothing his thumb over her soft, delicate cheek. ]
What should we name her?
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Mm.. Lunafreya, wasn't it?
[ she says, her voice rough and hoarse. the babe begins to settle at last, her sharp wails quieting to fussy little gurgles. it's hard work being born, after all. she's very tired!!
.. unfortunately there's no rest for mama. before prompto can even answer, alisaie's expression is tightening with pain as a fresh new contraction seizes her. gods, she's so tired, but she has to do this again. ]
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[ Their little lady. It rolls right off his tongue. It's a perfect name for her.
But then their moment is over, and one of the nurses takes Lunafreya to swaddle her while the other prepares Alisaie for the next one. Oh, gods, here they go again.
At least there is only one more in there this time! And sure the one coming out left more room for the second, right?
In any case, seeing his newborn child has evidently renewed Prompto's enthusiasm, and he grasps her hand again, ready for his fingers to be broken all over again. ]
Alright, sweetie! Just push this next one out and you're two for two! You got this!
[ He's back to be grating. ]
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.. still, she prefers it to his absence. bringing louisoix into the world had been one of the best, sweetest moments of her life, but without prompto beside her there had been a melancholy bittersweetness about it. he should have been there. he deserved to be there. and so even though the sound of his stupid rallying makes her want to kick a kitten off a cliff she is still glad he is here.
the second babe does come more easily, though.. not because there's more room, no, prompto?? mostly because her body is already ready, broken in by the path big sister blazed. it feels doubly painful for how torn and battered she already is, but it takes only two hard, earnest pushes to bring baby number two into the world, as bloody and messy and relieving as the first. she feels ripped in half, and she's relatively sure she's never going to want to ever have sex in her life ever again, her lower half is probably nothing but a gaping bloody canyon but it is over at last. the second babe is squalling soon enough, her lungs clearly as healthy as her sister's, and once more prompto is offered the silver scissors to fulfill his fatherly duty.
slick with sweat and trembling with effort, alisaie settles bonelessly back into her bedding, her throat raw from screaming, her breath quick and labored, but the babies are here at last, pink and strong and yowling, and she can take a moment to simply.. shut her eyes and breathe. ]
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The wave of relief that sweeps over him cannot hope to match Alisaie's, but he is still mightily relieved, enough so that he almost slumps back into the chair at her bedside, positively exhausted. But as soon as baby number two is cleaned up, the nurses bring both of them to Alisaie, Lunafreya her sister, in her arms at last.
They do look quite similar, which is...going to be a bit tricky, yes, but the second babe's hair is closer to Alisaie's own pale locks, and after looking at her for only a moment, touching her soft skin breathing her in, Prompto says quietly: ]
Lucienne. Luna and Luci.
[ His wonderful, beautiful, perfect baby girls.
He kisses each of them on the head once more, before turning a sort kiss to Alisaie's damp brow as well. ]
I love you.
[ He voice is a trembling whisper, weak from absolute joy. ]
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luna and luci. twin girls. ]
.. I love you too.
[ she says, exhausted, strained, her smile weak and her eyelids heavy. gods, she's so tired. her limbs feel like lead and her vision is dim, the tips of her fingers and toes feel.. cold.
something is not right, but alisaie no longer has the wherewithal to realize it, for the pain seems to.. float away as the edges of her vision darken, and her eyelids flicker. the nurses are moving quickly, cleaning things up, readying fresh linens, but one of them soon calls out, shouting for the doctor, the scent of blood thick in the air. it stains the sheets, the blankets, blooming a bright, vivid red on white as it spreads, and alisaie's breath falls shallow, her grip slipping. ]
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For a moment, one perfect moment, the four of them exist together, sweet and perfect and loving, and Prompto thinks about going to fetch Louie so he can come meet his new sisters, of what their next steps are, of what sort of schedule their lives will follow for the next while. He's ready to face all of it, to experience everything these new babies bring with them. It will be a lot of work, to be sure, but he is ready for it. All of it.
What he is not ready for, however, is the strong, thick scent of blood. The nurses shouting and the doctor running into the room. Alisaie's gaze growing distant, her grip slack and her breathing slack, and seconds later, he is expelled from the room, without so much as word of explanation.
To say he is afraid would not even begin to cover it. He stands outside the door, staring at it complete and utter horror. What...what had happened? Had something gone wrong? The blood - the smell of blood -
His hand covers his mouth, and he drops into a nearby chair, trembling. It's so very late into the night now that the hospital is quiet, near deserted. Gladio had taken Louie home to sleep hours ago, with the reassurance that Prompto would check in as soon as the babies were delivered safely. It's almost...peaceful.
Almost, because even through the door he can hear the shouts, the panicked voices, the fear of the unknown threatening to consume him whole. ]
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was it a dream? was it all a dream?
the blackness at the edges of her vision closes in and swallows her up, and the last thing she remembers are strong hands, and a terrible slickness between her thighs. postpartum hemorhhage, they will tell prompto when at last a doctor comes to speak with him, his clothing stained dark with blood. there are many causes, but for now he spares the full explanation to tell him first that they have controlled the bleeding, but she has lost quite a bit, and will need a great deal of rest, blood, and fluids, and most importantly, monitoring, to see that the bleeding does not start again.
she is moved from the delivery room to a new space, with a fresh gown and a clean bed, but the coppery scent of blood still seems to linger on her skin like a perfume. she smells it even in her deep slumber, it invades her thoughts and stains them red, it drowns her, it drowns her family, her children, and muffles their shouts. chalk white, she lies still as stone, her breathing shallow and her hands cold, her pulse weak and thready, but the nurses check in frequently to keep the fluids coming, and stimulate her circulation with massage. he is welcome to stay, they tell him, so long as he is quiet enough to allow her to rest. ]
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But this is...different. The birth of their daughters was supposed to be an occasion of singular joy and nothing else, of bringing these two new lives into the world and growing their family. And yet now Prompto lives in fear, every moment to the next, that the next time the doctor returns he will have worse news for him. Something has gone wrong. They weren't able to stop the bleeding this time. She's gone. Gods, what would he even do? It had been an impossible thing to have her with him in this world in the first place, but now that they've been together for awhile again, able to continue the lives they always wanted to build with each other, to lose her now, just after adding two new beautiful girls to their family...is unbearable. It breaks him down to his core, strips his soul raw and flays it with fear so real it threatens to swallow him whole. It is only the babies, truthfully, that keep him from completely losing himself to despair.
Gladio and Ignis remain the dutiful babysitters of Louie so Prompto can stay at the hospital with Alisaie and the twins, and he spends as much time with them as he possibly can. Cradling them close, kissing their tiny hands and noses as tears quietly slip down his cheeks. Would his daughters grow up without their mother? Would he have to raise them on his own? Could he even do it, without her at his side?
But he doesn't let the despair come for him fully. Alisaie is still alive, and he will never, ever stop hoping for her recovery, her return to him. She has managed it time and time again, and this will be no different. He's sure of it. He has to be sure of it.
And so he waits. He waits and waits through agonizing days and nights until he is allowed into her room at last.
They tell him to be quiet, and so he is. Almost...alarmingly so, for him, and it's some moments after he's arrived that he finally speaks. Will she even hear him? Probably not, and that's probably for the best. She needs her rest. He just...needs an outlet, and she'd always so encouraged him to speak freely around her, to keep nothing from her.
And so he won't. ]
...Hey, sweetheart. You really know how to keep a guy waitin', don't you?
[ A dry sound shakes out of him, a raw laugh cutting against a sob as he runs his hands over his face. When was the last time he slept? Gods, he doesn't know. ]
...The girls' are doin' okay. They're healthy, as good of nappers as you are, but I...think they know something's up with you. They...they miss you. W-we...we all do.
[ He has to stop himself a moment, as if to gather his composure. But what's the point? She can't hear him. She may as well be in another world, and he may as well be alone, screaming into an empty room. But even so, he slips his hand into hers, and squeezes her fingers gently.
Her hand is so cold. ]
I-I know...I know you'll come back to us, you always do, I-I just - [ He pinches the bridge of his noise, his tears falling freely now, his voice watery and thick. ] - I'm so afraid, afraid of losing you, now, after everything -
[ And then the emotion is too much. He breaks down entirely, if quietly, because that rule is still in place. He must let her rest. ]
P-please, darling, please...hurry back to me.
[ He can't do this alone. ]
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she sleeps, and sleeps, and does not move, does not toss or turn or mumble. she only exists.
but the glimmer of a distant light soon appears, pale and cool, lighting up the corners of her mind, and bring with it.. dreams? her sense of self. alisaie wanders on cold, bare feet, she looks to the stars and listens to the silence and wonders at the lightness of her body, the ease of her mind. why she is here does not matter. she has always been here. there is nothing to think about.
something touches her, something warm, with a strange texture that feels so.. familiar, and she can hear a voice, his voice, so distantly it seems only a whisper. she knows him. she knows his voice. his touch. the warmth of his hand in her own. what is she doing here? why does she linger? he is calling for her - they are calling for her, her family, her children, her life. she must go to them, they need her, they're hurting, but she feels so heavy.. so leaden and slow, even her thoughts fragmented, for the moment she realizes she must go her resolve seems to scatter, distracted. her will is intangible, she cannot gather all of the pieces of herself, it is like trying to grasp sand, the more she holds, the more slips through her fingers.
please.. hurry back to me.
alisaie stirs, her fingers in his twitching.
she's so heavy. so cold. so tired. it was so much easier to sleep, to rest in nothingness, in that soft, comfortable blackness where nothing could hurt her, where nothing could anything. gentle oblivion.
her eyelids flicker, then slowly rise, and the light seems more blinding than the sun, stabbing into her eyes, unwelcome. his name rises to her lips unbidden, automatically, though her throat is dry and her voice so hoarse with disuse that she can barely manage half of the word. ]
Prom.. mmn..
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But...no. Her eyelids flutter, and then she's trying to speak, fighting against the disuse of her voice, and hearing even part of his name from her lips has him trembling from head to toe with wonderful, wonderful shock. He has never heard a more wonderful sound, and he jumps right to his feet, still holding her hand but leaning over her bed now to peer into her face.
Please, gods, please don't let this be a dream... ]
I'm here, oh gods, I'm here.
[ His fingers shaking, he lifts his free hand to gently brush her hair back from her face. Please, don't go now... ]
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gods, why is she so tired? ]
What.. mm-
[ she has to clear her too-dry throat, it feels like trying to speak through sand. ]
What's.. wrong?
[ where are the babies? ]
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He leans closer, still gentle, but he tips his brow to hers, breathes her in, his tears mingling with her skin. Oh gods, how good it is to hear her voice, to see her eyes, tired and raw as they may be. ]
Y-you - you gave us a little scare, sweetheart. [ A joyful sob breaks through his voice, and he lifts her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss so soft and fond to it. ] B-but it's okay now. It's....okay.
[ How good it feels to say that out loud, at last. ]
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