Sleeping Dragon the halls of æsir trembled

the bebes are here! happy birthday smol dragons <3 also some slight pp of the babies. :0 private for Thurin & the bebes for now. Will make it AW later for well wishers! <3 edit for simplicity there is no posting order!

A sharp jolt of pain startled Gyda out of her fitful and restless slumber. For a moment only the shield-maiden panicked but assumed, after a few minutes had passed and the pain had ceased to be that one of her children had given her a particularly harsh kick. It had not felt as if it had been in her rib cage but rather closer to her hips...but she had been asleep and thus could not say for sure. Yet, she was tire, not yet ready to be awake and after grooming each paw with a quick swipe of her tongue in a cat-like manner she had rested her head upon her paws once more, her eyes closing only to feel another contraction rip through her body. A sharp intake of breath was given as her head snapped to stare at her rotund flank. Still within the last vestiges of sleep it took her a few moments to realize what was happening and panic seized her even then. They were coming. She was afraid and it was painful and her sharp hisses of breath eventually became pants as she felt her water break and the warm liquid ooze down the back of her leg as she stretched out. Her jaw clamped shut as she fought the whimper that threatened to tear from her lips as she pushed. She had been right, at least, her body knew what to do. Yet, as much as she did not wish to be alone in this moment, she also knew that she wanted none with her. She did not want anyone to see this: to see her in pain, to see her frightened. She did not know who guarded her den: whether it was Hush, Dio or @Thuringwethil herself (or perhaps none of them, for surely they needed breaks as well) but Gyda was determined not to draw attention to herself — whether it worked or not she was in no state to care much as the pain tore through her body and she shuddered with her contraction, hunching in on herself as much as she could, a rough exhale given as she gave the final push and with a heavy pant and soft cry of surprise her firstborn came into the world. She gingerly tore the sac and cleaned the small child with sure and quick swipes of her tongue, a soft sob of adoration and disbelief leaving Gyda's lips as the silver child squirmed beneath her ministrations. “I had promised Frigga and Freyja that I would name my first born in their honor,” Gyda whispered to the deaf newborn. “You are my brave little @Freyja.” Gyda murmured before she positioned the firstborn at her side so that she could begin to suckle.

A few minutes respite followed and Gyda watched her newborn daughter with stars in her eyes only to clench her jaw and let out a sharp whimper as another contraction seized her. The secondborn's arrival was just as painful but quicker, Gyda realized and she tried to be mindful of Freyja as she worked to clean her secondborn. Also, a girl though her coloration was silver with black and brown. Beautiful and perfect just as her first daughter. “@Thyri, thunder fighter,” Gyda murmured to Thyri and guided her to a spot beside Freyja so she, too, could nurse.

As the next wave of contractions hit her while the pain and effort to push her thirdborn from her body and into the world left the shield-maiden panting she was growing accustomed, she realized. It was easier, after the first. Freyja had carved the path not just for her siblings but for the first time mother, as well. When the third was pushed free Gyda tore the sac with experienced teeth and cleaned the third child. A boy. Unbeknownst to Gyda he looked similar to her biological father Crete: with a dark back that faded to white. “@Hvitserk, in honor of the mighty Jarl.” A name that Ragnar had intended to name one of his sons but had never came to fruition. A homage to the deceased Jarl in it's own way. Surely, Ragnar wouldn't mind that one of his grandsons bore the name instead.

When Hvitserk was nursing along side his sisters, Gyda's head lowered to her paws, unused to the sensation of them suckling ...unused to children, yet she was content and the contractions had stopped. She fell asleep, lulled by the soft mewling noises of her newborn children. They all lived, and the Goddesses had smiled upon them, as Gyda hoped, they would smile and watch over Gavriel on his journey back to Trigeda.

Yet another contraction tore through her and a strained whine of pain tore from her lips as she bolted awake, briefly disturbing the three children in their slumber or their feeding. “I'm sorry, ssshh,” She cooed to them but dug her paws into the earth as another contraction hit her. She had assumed she had been done as an hour (or so) had passed between Hvitserk's birth and when the first contraction had yanked her from her sleep. She had assumed that she had been blessed with three healthy babes but the Gods had other plans, it seemed. The fourth and final child was born and knowing the motions already Gyda freed the child from the sac and cleaned her as she did the three previous despite the child's insistent squirming and mewling. The fourth was also a girl: but with brown fur that bore the barest hint of silver. Out of the three children to be born it was the lastborn that resembled Gavriel the very most. It made Gyda wish that he was there. “Eske,” Gyda whispered to the child as she guided her to where her siblings were nestled. “spear of the Gods.” Her muzzle touched each in turn then, smiling with exhausted, teary eyes at the fourth beautiful lives she had brought into the world.