The First Age

Full Version: In the Temple of the Goddess of the Moon
You're currently viewing a stripped down version of our content. View the full version with proper formatting.
The room was dimly lit, soft music played in the background, and a hint of stale incense hung on the air, overpowered by the scent of sweat.

“It’s okay. Just breathe like we practiced. You’ll get through this.”
A woman sat on the edge of the bed, smiling down at a young woman propped against a wall of colorful pillows. Her pink and pretty face was screwed up, her eyes shut, and she was very obviously holding her breath. Her stomach protruded in front of her and her heals dug into the bedding, pushing her back into the pillows. In her pain, the young woman held both of the other woman’s hands so tightly in hers, the fingers were white with lack of circulation. No complaint escaped Melany Torrones’ lips. This was what she was here for.

Perspiration made the short black curls stick around the face of the midwife, the central air having been turned off in the birthing room and the southern night had stubbornly retained the heat of the day. She blew in her charge’s face to remind her to breathe, her own breath minty and pleasant.

“Keep breathing.”
she reminded and the patient dutifully took breaths in little puffs, her concentration distracting her from the contraction, if not actually doing anything to really reduce the pain.

A soft chime sounded, and Melany extricated one of her hands with a reassuring smile as the contraction waned. She tapped an intercom button hidden under the edge of the bedside table. It must be pretty important if Anabel was interrupting her during a birth.

“My lady, there is … someone here that needs your immediate attention.”
Melany’s lips came together and thinned. She would have to remind Anabel to lay off the honorifics. It was one thing to feed the press the Lady Moon persona, it was another to actually start believing it.

“Send Lacey in to spell me, please. I will meet the … guest in my study. Please offer refreshment.”

Melany had a good idea who it was and why he was there.

When Lacey entered the room, the young woman was quiet and taking advantage between contractions to close her eyes and catch her breath. Melany leaned over and whispered something in her ear that made her smile slightly.

“Lacey, this is Cyan. And her baby will be here pretty soon.”
Lacey moved past Melany to sit on the edge of the bed and picked up a washcloth sitting in a bowl of ice water, and squeezing the excess water from it, began to wipe the exhausted young woman’s face.

Melany squeezed Cyan’s hand and said she would be back before the baby came. Melany looked meaningfully at her replacement and Lacey nodded. She would call Melany should birth look immanent. She made it a point to be present at every single birth of the many women who came to her for help.

Melany stopped in her rooms on the way to her study. She quickly washed the sweat from her face and ran water through her curls. She pulled off her sweat drenched t-shirt and put on a fresh one. The rest of the manor was not as warm as the birthing rooms were by necessity, but trying to keep costs down, they didn’t keep it very cool, either. Just enough to take the humidity out of the air.

Entering her study she smiled. Her guess had been right. The young man that stood looking out the window behind her desk had light brown hair, neatly trimmed and was clean shaven. Her turned as she entered and the smile on his face was answered in her own. She moved to give him a chaste hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Joshua. So nice to see you. Won’t you sit down?”
Joshua returned the platitudes and took the seat she offered him. They exchanged heartfelt niceties for a few minutes and inquired about each other’s lives since last they’d met, but Melany knew that Jet’s PA was here on his business, not to catch up with a high school sweetheart.

“So Josh, why don’t you tell me why you’re here. I have a young pregnant woman in one of the birthing rooms ready to pop – I’ll need to get back to her shortly."
Josh smiled, glad she understood the purpose of his visit and got straight to the point.

“Jet is going to Moscow. With Beto. He wanted me to show you this.”
Josh pulled a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it across the desk. Melany took it from him eagerly. She appreciated the fact that Jet never compromised her position by maintaining the farce that they were at odds, and craved the few personal communications they were able to send to each other via people like Josh Ledger. Mutual friends from their youth, the press could conjecture, but never prove that the wild young musician and the spiritual leader of the Luna Evangelical Church of the Goddess actually still spoke and still loved each other. Melany knew it had stung Jet when she had expressed a need to distance herself from him when she chose this route and he chose his. She couldn’t afford for the sins of the brother to rub off on her.

Melany unfolded the paper and frowned. It took her a minute to realize what she held was a copy of a letter from … yet another woman in need. She sighed and took a breath, looking up at Josh before reading the short missive. As she read, her beautiful dark eyes opened to their full potential and this time there was a question as she glanced at Josh.

“Jet wants you to make your way to Moscow. He wants to help this girl, but isn’t sure how.”

Melany looked back down at the note. Jet knew exactly how to get her to do what he wanted. He knew she would be hard put to say no to a woman in need. Especially if the woman was family. And someone Melany had cared for a great deal in their youth. Leaving that child behind in China was probably one of the reasons she had started this church. A church to help young women in need.

But before she even had time to think about the implications or the logistics, the intercom chimed and she hit the button. “Yes?”
Lacey’s voice came over the intercom, sounding calm to the casual observer, but Melany sensed the stress she was feeling.

“Mel, this baby is coming quick. You’d better get back right now.”

“I’ll be right there.”
and tossed back over her shoulder, "This conversation is not over."
. Without looking back, she folded the paper up and tucked it in her back pocket as she left the room at a trot.
Edited by Jet, Feb 16 2018, 12:05 AM.