Ocean's Breath Plateau Charcoal crushed, pixie fever, angel dust

They answered her call; first Rodyn, then Heph, and Marina released a shuddering sigh at the sight of them. Something in her relaxed, just enough to allow the next stage of this to pass. She shook her head mutely for a moment, breathing through another surge of pain. Some still-weirdly-logical part of her supposed they were contractions, but the rest of her could only panic and think that it felt like she was being torn apart from the inside.
Sit with me, She managed in a small gasp. Please. There wasn't much else they could do, she thought. Maybe help me name them, she almost added as an afterthought, but then something shifted inside of her and she could do nothing but scream.
She did a lot of that over the next half hour. Screaming, and panting, and crying. The specifics would later be blocked from her memory; she would remember only a blur of pain and panic, and then a rush of exhausted calm. And her children. Two of them — a silvered boy and a peachy girl, both quiet but healthy and perfect. She expected to feel more, when they were cleaned and settled and the worst of the pain had passed.
But Marina was tired, and all she could think about was the dull aches in places she hadn't even known she could feel pain, and the irrational worry that giving birth had done some kind of irreparable damage to her. Even so, she couldn't bring herself to inspect the bloodied mess that was the other end of her body. Even the thought made her shudder. Instead she tried to focus on her children, though she felt very little when she looked at them, and that scared her.
They'll need names, I guess, Marina murmured, suddenly too tired to feel any of these things. She wanted to sleep. She looked up at Rodyn, then at Heph. Can one of you stay with me, please? Just a few days. She didn't trust herself alone with children in this state. Her children, but even so, she just didn't want to be bothered. She just wanted rest.