A babe without a name

Isolde sat down on the bed, to wait for Bragnae. The past few months had been terrible, instead of remaining at Cornwell with Lorde Marke. Isolde and Bragnae had fled to a distant place, somewhere in southern Ireland; they were still unsure of the exact name. but they knew that here, they could co-exist. Far from Tristans final resting place, but not far enough, because the memories still lingered with her. Every kiss, every touch, down to the last moment, when Marke let them freely love each other. But Tristan had wanted to go back and help Lord Marke fight off her father and the traitors; and instead, lost his own life.

Isolde's life would never be the same, yet she had to live on for this child inside of her. She wouldn't give up, just in case he was Tristans baby too. Then she would have a little bit of Tristan to live with. Isolde didn't even want to think about what she would do if it was Markes. Then her last hope for a little Tristan would be gone and her heart and will for life with it.

The baby kicked and Isolde clutched her stomach, "It's going to be okay baby. Don't worry." she said, Isolde had been having cramps all day and finally Bragnae had gone to fetch the nurse wife. Over the past few months, Isolde had often wondered what would have happened had Tristan lived. But wondering wouldn't bring him back, that she knew.

( ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^hours later^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^)

A knock resounded on the door and Isolde got up to answer it. Bragnae came in, with another woman close on her heels. Isolde started to feel dizzy and was led to the bed, the other woman started to bustle about the room and Isolde started fading in and out consciousness. The baby has to be safe, he just has to be! Isolde kept telling herself, the baby was her only recurring thought. Other than Tristan of course. If only Tristan were here, maybe things would be different.

At last she heard a cry…

"It's a boy, princess." Bragnae said, lifting a screaming, little bundle up and placing him in Isolde's arms. "What are you going to name him?" the nurse wife asked, looking down at the babe. "I don't know." Isolde answered, finally, moving away the cloth to peek at the babies face. He had her big, blue eyes, but as for the hair, she couldn't quite tell. It looked to be a dark brown, but then again, it was too dark to really see clearly. "Who's your father?" Isolde asked the baby. "Is he Tristan, or is he Lord Marke? Shall we ever truly know, my little baby?" Isolde whispered.

The nurse wife came over to take the babe and clean him up, but that was enough… Isolde had made a connection with the wee babe. She knew that even if he wasn't Tristans, even if he was Markes, she would keep him. Until he was old enough to be sent back to Cornwell and claim his place on the throne there. But for now, he was hers and she would take care of him and love him, as much as he needed. Isolde held the babe closer to her for one brief second, before letting him go. She sighed as she watched her little boy be carried away and soon after fell into a deep sleep.

Bragnae helped the other woman take care of the babe and clean up the room as much as possible. She thanked the woman and promised to check on the wee one every couple of hours to see that he was all right. When the woman had left, Bragnae rocked the babe to sleep, then placed him in a basket beside Isolde on the bed. She laid down on the other side of the bed and the basket and tried to sleep as best she could. Bragnae was worried about the babe and her mistress, would they truly ever know who the father was?

"Lord, please send some small sign to help ease the princesses heart." Bragnae whispered and she closed her eyes.