The moment Eleanor had hit the hard stone floor, the world seemed to fade away from her like smoke on a breeze. Sounds became distorted and distant and her eyelids became so heavy, as if an enormous weight was upon them, forcing them closed. A frightening cold, numbness washed over her body, as though she had been plunged into the iciest waters imaginable. The coldness froze her limbs, making it impossible for her to move. Though, it didn't worry Eleanor, to whom her thoughts were nothing more than an abstract haze.
But it was no more than a moment or two before Eleanor was dragged brutally back into reality by a horrific, hot pain. It burnt through her like wildfire, illuminating her previously darkened mind. The world rushed back, edges sharper than ever, colours brighter than before. A scream tore through her lips as she tried desperately to try and banish some of her agony. But it was to no avail. Terrified thoughts raced through Eleanor's mind and she began to panic. Her baby was in terrible danger, she could just feel it. She'd hurt him. What if he died? Oh God, what if he died?
Suddenly, she heard her name, bellowed in a voice that's terror was only rivalled by her own. It was followed by a crash, and then her name again. Her scream deadened, turning into a gasped sob. She felt her husband gather her into his arms and shout something to her brother.
"James," Eleanor choked out, letting out a cry of pain.
“It’s okay my love, I am here," she heard him say. And suddenly, she was in his arms. Though his touch offered her no relief to her pain, it did comfort her slightly. Her body was lifted from the cold floor and she felt herself being carried through a door and placed incredibly gently upon her bed. His hand grasped hers and she squeezed it tightly, desperately frightened, as though she expected him to leave her at any moment.
“Come on love, you’ll be okay!” James promised. His words were strong and convincing, but his voice held his every worry and doubt.
There was a brief respite to Eleanor's pain and she looked up at him, her mind, despite what was happening, returning to another matter. Her eyes brimmed with tears. "You lied to me!" she said accusingly. "Why didn't you tell me Lizzie was dead?" she asked, her voice torn somewhere between anger and terrible grief.
Her darling mother's first granddaughter. Her beloved sister's little girl. Her precious niece. The girl she had seen born, helped raise for the first few years of her life, told stories too at bedtime and played make-believe with in the corridors of the castle. She was gone. Dead. Cold in her grave. Eleanor would never see her blond hair glow golden in the Southern sunlight again. She'd never see her blue eyes light up with excitement or her little, pearly white teeth as she beamed with childish joy. Even though she hadn't seen the child in nearly three years, she still loved her, and Eleanor had truly believed that somehow, one day, she would see Lizzie again. But now, that was impossible. Her niece was dead, and she hadn't even been able to say goodbye.
Suddenly, everything tightened like a steel band around her stomach and another awful pain lanced through her, worse than the last. Eleanor jackknifed, crying out, her hands placed either side of her stomach, clutching it, one hand still intertwined with James'. Eleanor turned to James, looking up at him, her eyes filled with fright.
"It's the baby," she cried. "There's something wrong with the baby." Eleanor paused, dragging in a ragged breath. A tear ran down her cheek and she told him honestly, for there was no use trying to protect him any more, "I'm afraid, James."