NaNo Prep 2011 Day 9 - CONTEST ROUND

Write a background story about your antagonist. Make your reader empathize with the motivations of the antagonist. If your antagonist is a situation rather than a person, write a background story about that.

King Gregory paced the hallway outside the door of his wife’s bedroom in the early hours between midnight and dawn.  The illumination from candle-filled wall sconces provided the only light to banish the dark.  From inside he could hear the Queen’s screams and moans of pain. 

He turned to the maid who was rushing down the hall toward the bedroom, carrying a pile of toweling and blankets.

“What’s taking so long?  Does it always take this long?  Why is she in so much pain?”

“I’m sure I don’t know, Your Highness,” she curtsied as well as she could without toppling the tower of items.  “Many women labor for hours.  I’m told the pain is normal, Your Highness, though I’ve never experienced it myself, of course.”  She blushed at sharing such an inappropriately intimate moment with the King.  She curtsied again, then pushed the door open to the sound of a particularly loud moan.  The door closed behind her, and the anxious father-to-be continued his lone pacing.  He had not considered how much he would need the companionship of another male at this time, and had not called for anyone to attend him.  His valet and footmen would have been inappropriate.  And so he waited alone, wishing he could do something to ease the Queen His Wife’s pain, and help bring his heir into the world.

Please let it be a boy, he prayed. I’m not certain I could go through this again.  I’m not certain I could allow Isabella to go through this again.

A loud scream pierced the darkness, and the King turned in his pacing to face the bedroom door.  A few moments later, the door opened, and a nurse, clad in all white, but for the blood stains on her apron, slid through the door.  “Her Highness has been delivered of a daughter.”  The King’s shoulders sagged slightly.  A daughter.  Not a son.  Not an heir.  The maid continued “But she is still in a great deal of pain, Your Highness.  The midwife suspects a second babe will follow.”  She slipped quietly back into the room, to the sound of another moan.

A second baby?  Still a chance for his heir to be born!  He continued his pacing, mindless of the sun peeking over the horizon and beginning to illuminate the corridor from the east with an orange glow. 

Yet another scream came from the bedroom, and this one stopped him in his tracks.  He knew at once that something was wrong.  He raced down the corridor, and heedless of the fact that the birthing room was no place for a King he pushed open the door to his wife’s bedroom.  The Queen’s companion, heavy herself with child, sat at the head of the bed, mopping Her Highness’ brow and sobbing.  The midwife sat at the edge of the bed, wrapping a small bundle with reverent care.  A nursemaid sat in the corner, rocking a second small bundle and cooing soothing words. 

The midwife looked up at the King, her eyes heavy with tears and weariness.  “The Queen is delivered of a son, Your Highness.  He was born still.”  The King sat heavily on the nearest chair.  His heir was dead before having lived. 

“Your Highness,” continued the midwife, “Her Highness has lost a lot of blood.  I am doing my best, but . . . “ her words trailed off. 

The King jumped up from his chair and rushed over to the bedside, where Lady Florence mopped Isabella’s brow.  “Gregory,” his wife whispered weakly.  “I am so sorry.  So sorry.” 

“Hush,” he whispered, smoothing her hair gently from her face.  “We have a daughter,” he said.  “You will be fine.  You’ll see.” His voice cracked, knowing that despite his reassurance, all would not be fine.

His saw the gratitude in his wife’s green eyes before they closed one last time.