Eleanor saw her own terror and distress mirrored back at her in her husband's lovely eyes. Instantly, she almost regretted her words. Because now, the false promise she'd seen portrayed in James' eyes for her sake had vanished and was replaced by a fear that she did not often see in her powerful, resolute husband. She had almost been expecting him to tell her not to be foolish and she was perfectly fine. But he did not. He simply looked at her with an utter loss and no words of reassurance. And truthfully, that frightened her more than the agony she was in.
Eleanor watched her husband turn his head towards the door and nod to the physician who had emerged through it. Then, he leant down to Eleanor and pressed a kiss to her pallid forehead. His thumb caressed her cheek, brushing away her tears, before he promised her, "It will be alright, my love."
The physician was at her side then, asking James to stand back. Then he turned to her. "Lie back please, Your Majesty," he requested. A maid assisted her so she was flat on her back. Her hands lay either side of her, clasping the sheet she lay on, nails raking the fabric as she tried to resist the urge to scream. The result of which was pitiful little gasping sobs that made her feel dizzy. Her head was stretched back and her eyes fixed on the patterned ceiling above. Then, she felt hands on her midsection. They pressed firmly into her tender, swollen stomach, ignoring her cries of pain as he probed where she'd fallen heavily onto the floor.
"Have you felt the child move since you fell?" he questioned her, lifting her dress up to her thighs.
Eleanor shook her head, more tears falling from her eyes. "Is he dead?" she asked fearfully, her orbs wide with terror and swimming with not yet spilt tears. The physician did not answer, instead continuing to inspect her. "Am I bleeding?" she questioned desperately. Last time, she had thought her baby was fine, if a little early, until she had begun to bleed. The blood had been a sign of his death sentence. She still prayed this time, despite her terrible pain, that if there was no blood, he could still survive.
Finally, to this question, the physician replied. "No, that you are not," he informed her. But Eleanor had barely a moment to enjoy the news when more pain, crushing her stomach like a steel vice, took over. It crashed over her in a wave, dragging a scream from her lips once more. She turned to look at her husband, trying to call for him. But she could form no words through her pain. She was so very frightened, and so alone. She wanted him at her side, to hold her hand and kiss her gently. She wanted her mother and her sister. And it was at that very moment that the door opened.
"Mama," the words escaped Eleanor's lips in no more than a murmur, her mother's name from her earliest days resurfacing unconsciously. She recognised her mother instantly. She was just as Eleanor remembered her, save for a few more lines in her still beautiful visage and a slightly more drawn look to her features. Beside her mother was Jonathon. Eleanor was about to say her name again, but caught herself. It was not her mother. Her mother was in the South with her sister. It was impossible for her to be here now. God, she truly had gone mad. The pain must be causing hallucinations, as she had heard was possible. Of course it was perfectly logical. She had wished desperately to see her mother, and now her mind was creating her what she wanted to see, to offer her solace.
Then, Eleanor realised that James was also looking at her mother, with pure shock on his face. Eleanor knew her husband, and she knew simply the appearance of Jon was not enough to elicit that kind of response. James was no weak man. His shock was reserved for only the truly impossible.
"Mother?" Eleanor said, her voice still trembled with fear and shuddered with pain, but it was stronger this time, louder. "Oh my God, mother..." Her mind was so full of the pure joy of seeing her mother that she didn't allow it to linger on the ramifications of her being here, nor James' reaction, nor question how she came to be here.
A short while later, Eleanor saw the physician leave her side and approach her husband. "Your Majesty," he addressed him, "I'm afraid I do not know what is the matter with the Queen. I can only guess that she has sustained some form of internal injury from the fall that's causing her the extreme pain. I do not know if the baby is still alive," he paused for a breath. "The Queen is in labour, though. I would recommend we deliver the child as quickly as possible, if we wish to have the best chances of saving either of their lives."