(3) Cycles of the moon. Birth!


Cycles of the moon. Aurore



Embraced by the mystique of the glorious moon shimmering in the velvet black sky I gaze over the citadel from the window of our chambers wondering if John is bathed in its magic, a lustrous aura flowing across the land creating a dramatic landscape of magnificent undulating hills flowing down to the lagoon. Amalure tells me there will be a high tide tonight down in the Obidos lagoon, the full moon has long had an aura of mystery and magic about it, tied to the ebbs and flows of the tide, as well as the ever-changing cycle of women’s’ body. The moon is connected to our wisdom and intuition which tells me my time is near, since early evening I have felt a tightening in the abdomen that comes and goes, some stronger than others but neither type painful. The candles guttered hours ago leaving me bathed in Luna’s golden light, slipping out of the flimsy robes which conceal my modesty, I stand alone as God intended in the pure golden aura illuminating our bedchamber. Glancing down upon an enlarged abdomen smiling this child is our Pearle from Venuses love, and will enter the world under the full moon who summons Poseidon’s tide. Aimee enters carrying warm scented water to wash and refresh me as my waters break, she then slips over my head a birthing robe, and two young girls clean the floor near the window ushered away by Aimee to attend to other duties. The Lying-in chamber is prepared by Aimee and Catina, candles are lit, the keyholes stopped up, windows closed, curtains were drawn, and Vinho quente laid down next to the fire in an earthenware jug.

Pacing the room as a stronger tightening of the abdomen causes me to stoop forward, clutching at a chair my hands cupped firmly around the top of the back, sliding my free hand under my belly, the precious babe of our creation prepares to greet the world with the determination of his father, bending down when the tightening has stopped to sip from a glass filled with warmed Vinho quente. Aimee sends for Father Ryan, Catina takes a red-hot poker from the fire placing it in the jug of Vinho quente, the chambers are filled with the smell of red wine infused with orange, cloves, cinnamon, fresh ginger, and honey. Taking a sudden intake of breath the pain from another strong contraction pulls the babe down into my pelvic girdle, in-between contractions I curse John for his absence, and gulp from the glass, not that it dulls the pain.*

Aurore; *How could I have thought differently from the advice from the midwife dismissing her and her rantings as old wives tales. I thought better than years of training with the men and John, under the ever watchful eye of Miguel had prepared me for every situation able to stand my ground, deluding myself into thinking that giving birth would be easy, however, none of the training could have prepared me for actual childbirth! Father Ryan arrived home just in time for the birth for which I am grateful, my cheeks flush pinkly ashamed to say if it had not been for Aimee pushing my chin down towards my chest, the screams would have been heard all over the citadel, naturally, John was blamed for every laborious contraction! Questioning his Parentage! Exhaustion now taking its toll I sink back into the feather pillows, not one part of me free from aches and pains. Mellowed brown chocolate eyes flicker closing for just a moment with each breath nearly falling asleep, glancing down in wonderment of our son, a miracle swathed in a blanket just waking up. A small hand escapes from under its swathing, I am in awe at the perfectly formed fingers of our son, a miracle swathed in a blanket just waking up. Already he is blessed with blue eyes the colour of the azure sky just like his father, and a ravenous appetite for nourishment.

Raising him up gently in my cradled arms I hold him close to my breast he suckles straight away his blue eyes closed his free hand cupping my breast, brushing a kiss to the top of his head a sigh hitches with the breath, nothing compares to the bond between mother and child. Gazing at his beautiful face a tear trickles from the corner of my eye, one small glistening pearl falls onto his blonde hair. Without warning emotions rises to my throat filling me with overwhelming love, and praying John will return home safe unharmed. Aimee comes and takes the babe tucking him into his cot cooing like a mother hen, sinking into sleep I am awakened by the bells of the citadel beginning to peal Proclaiming the new king. *




Cycles of the Moon. Catina


{Dreamily sighing mesmerized by the magic of the night, radiant sculptured features rest lightly on interlocked fingers cupping an adoring face flushed with the pangs of first love, sultry jet eyes gaze at the full moon, impatiently waiting for the return of Tiago.

The golden orb glows and blesses the birth of the new babe, sighing wondering if Tiago is under the spell of the full moon, the very thought of him causes tingles tiny butterfly wings to flutter across glowing skin touched by the moons aura, as if it senses a need growing sending sensations to dance and swirl entices thoughts uncle Miguel would chastise me for. With the rising of the moon, there is an aura of mystery bringing a longing, an innocent smile adorns full ruby lips as I thoughtfully twist a long curl of jet coloured hair around and around my finger. Barely understanding the feelings of change occurring with this cycle of the moon, transforming the pure nubile form of a young girl into a sexually mature young woman of marriageable age.

Swaying rhythmically to the swirling music in my head, following over the floor with bare feet to a set sequence of steps, jet eyes closed imagining that Tiago is twirling me in his arms held close against his strong body, both of us anointed by the moons golden rays, only wishing the vision was real and not in a fertile imagination. Stopping suddenly in the middle of the room the balls of agile feet dig into the sandstone flooring, the multicoloured shirt swishes around the floor coming to rest motionless around frozen feet, pulling sculpture brows together in pensive thought, what if my father will not accept Tiago as a husband. He will I know he will, he likes him well enough as a soldier, thinking him brave, honest and valiant. Sighing brushing the thoughts away with a flick of a hand and a shrug of the shoulders, walking slowly towards the window hips swaying naturally as bare feet pad rhythmically on the sandstone floor, gazing upwards once more at the magical moon. }*



Cycles of the moon. Adriana


Adriana; >>The chambers are unusually bright tonight the glow from the moon shimmering through every strand as the brush passes through the long-freed tendrils. The immense joy when letting the hair fall free of the pins holding each curl, my one wish would be for Abilio to be here. Apart from him helping Miguel organise the court he is kept away by Aimee’s watchful eye, she has taken it upon herself to protect mine and Catina’s propriety. Naturally, I blame Tiago for this situation, his impetuous actions climbing the wall into my chambers spoilt a proposal, I am sure Abilio was about to ask for my hand, Tiago’s appearance through the window was untimely. A soft tap on the door, I stop brushing my hair laying down the brush on the dressing table, dainty heels tapping on the floor my heart beats rapidly in my chest, as I walk my gown hem skims the floor, leaning closely against the door I ask who’s there, the reply in low dulcet tones is the voice of Abilio, dare I hope! >>


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