Her presence around the territory had grown scarce in recent days, as she grew increasingly uncomfortable and the pressing in her belly grew with a frightful lurch. The cramps writhed like angry snakes in the snow queen's womb, and it did not take long for a retreat to the safety of her den, where she huddled into the warmth and shifted to lean against the earthen ground.

Birth was not a ritual for the faint of heart, and despite tales of beauty, the process itself was nothing majestic to behold - it was a surge of fluids, a seething pain, and a trickle of panic wove into her eyes as the dirt beneath her because tainted with crimson. The empress did not call for Raziel, not even in her paroxysm of consternation. Why, she would consider further in days to come, when her only duty was tending to the children; perhaps it was because this was something she desired to face alone - perhaps it was because of his own twisted words. She loved him. But he had admitted he would slaughter their young if Gwendolyn failed to survive their coming into the world... this was something she could never permit, even in death. So she did not call for him, but would let him find her of his own accord, when the burns of discomfort had ceased and life itself wriggled at her stomach.

The huntress was careful to watch her breathing, counting each tick of knowledge she could muster of the process of childbirth in her mind - a sharp intake of air signalled a particularly strong wave of pain, and she responded to the instict to push, closing her eyes to brace herself against the agony.

It is all worth it, she thought to herself, every ounce of it, to see my children.

And it was. The first figure to slide from her womb into the frigid air was @Niebla, a precious gem of arctic hues - she was the most beautiful creature that the Eruna had ever laid her fathomless gaze upon, and never in a million years would she trade this girl for the world. Feeling a tremble vibrate against her body, Gwen stretched forward (ignoring any pains) and carefully shifted the pup to her belly, swiping her tongue gently over the fragile youth to cleanse her of fluid. She did not take notice of the will of her devotion, the tugging of her instincts, which guided her purely by the love of a mother. Her vision swam, but before another lick could brush against her daughter, a second sharp burst of agony tumbled through her womb, and her face crumpled before smoothing into what it once was.

The second child born to the keep's king and queen was far too quiet and still for comfort, and as the ivory fae leaned over to preen this newborn, her heart leapt into her throat. There was no beat of a heart here. The girl was swathed in ebony like her father, and as the beaded tears slid down soft cheeks, Gwendolyn swept her embrace over the body and touched her nose to the miniscule, scrunched features - she named the child, but did not speak it aloud, in case ears where waiting beside the den's surface, where she dared not look. This moment was for her, this special little girl, and nobody else was permitted to witness it; the bond between mother and daughter would not be tainted with eyes of the others, family or otherwise. "I love you, my dear," she whispered softly, accompanied with a suffocating whine.

There was little time to mourn now, however, when the pains continued.

At the end of the struggling, it was @Hielo's turn to grace the keep with his presence - the little prince of the woods, who's body was glazed in icy hues, marked too with the charcoal shadows of his father. A stunning baby boy, blessed by whichever divine creatures might look down upon them now, or the spirit of nature itself. Never could a son have been so perfect, even with delicate ears folded and eyes squinted shut to the light; she tucked him close, swept her tongue over his tufted fur, and thanked the stars that they had made it.

Their journey had only just begun, and she could not wait to watch where their paths led them.