Knight & Lady, Part 10 (MtF, FtM TG Preg)

By FoxFaceStories

A Commission for Al

Within the fantastical world of Vortis, there is no greater hero than Sir Marcus. He has earned the hand of his love, the beautiful Lady Astrid, and all should be well. But when a horrid curse prevents them from conceiving, the pair must leave on one final adventure: to an ancient well that may grant their wish to bear children. But when the wish is made, who shall be the father, and who the mother? Soon the pair must reorient themselves as their bodies switch genders and roles, all while their wish’s desire beckons.

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Chapter 10: The Birthing Bed

In the final couple of months, more preparations were made for the impending event. Madeline continued to grow larger and larger, relying more and more on her husband and Jenna, as well as her other handmaidens, for help. She found the energy of her middle months of pregnancy starting to wane, and the famous nesting instinct began: she preferred to spend more time around their estate outside the city, wandering through the gardens, overseeing the nursery room, and generally fussing in a way that made Alston laugh at times. The pair never stopped having sex, though their rate did slow down somewhat; it was more often that Alston initiated it now, and they had to work around her belly, or otherwise please each other orally.

“Never, ever, ever speak of this,” Madeline said to him in the aftermath of pleasing him with her mouth. “Not to Harold, not to Lochley, especially not to Davis. To no one. If you ever want that again, or me again, tell no one.”

“I s-swear,” Alston said, momentarily intimidated.

“Good,” she said sweetly, before disrobing and getting on her back in the bed, clutching her stomach for balance as she did so. She spread her legs, revealing her womanhood. “Now hurry up, good knight. It’s the lady’s turn.”

To say she was pleased with the results was an understatement. In fact, even pleasuring her husband with her mouth hadn’t been so bad, and the pair began to do so more often, especially as regular relations became difficult. 

Still, other things began to slow down and almost normalise. Despite the anxiousness of her impending birth, Madeline was actually increasingly confident in acting the part of a female noble. When seeing guests or being one, she observed the proper rites and customs, presenting the image of a woman who was sharp with words rather than steel, while still fulfilling her womanly duty to birth a child into the world. There were times she missed her old self, of course - the rumours that a great troll was rampaging along the outskirts of Vortis made her want to pick up a sword and waddle to the battlefield - but the truth was that, after killing a dragon and travelling beyond the edge of the known world, she really had achieved the greatest feats. Anything else would not measure up. Besides, she couldn’t risk her baby boy, who was so ready to come into the world.

So often, the former male could scarcely believe the transformation her body was undertaking. It was slower than her change from male to female, and more expected in knowing what was to come, but in so many ways it seemed almost more dramatic. Mentally, she had taken up the role of being a woman even before being pregnant, but as her belly swelled and her child felt like a true living being, her child, within her, she came to embrace her own femaleness. The male ego simply couldn’t survive literally carrying a man’s child, a product of his seed within her, but despite the occasional embarrassments, she found herself actually proud of what her body was achieving. It felt powerful and mighty in its own way: she was doing something no other man had ever achieved creating life, and even the fullness of her breasts became a point of pride with her despite their ample size: she knew they would do well to feed her child . . . if she chose to feet him, that was. She told herself she would use a wetnurse, but increasingly she daydreamed about having her child against her naked chest, achieving that comfort and closeness that most mothers were blessed with. Even in the morning, when getting out of the bed was difficult and she had to place both hands on her back because of her large mound, she still considered the wonder of what she was doing. And to protect her child, she was more than happy to keep on nesting, and keeping away from danger.

Alston, on the other hand, was ready to go out into it. He stayed relatively close to the city most of the time, but ventured out with his fellow knights to skirmish against threats, particularly since relations with the Northerners were breaking down . . . again. Their tribes were a loose coalition as opposed to the centralised states elsewhere around Vortis, and this made for difficult border stability when a new leader ascended and had to wrangle the various confederacies into submission. Such a new ascension had happened recently, and the more barbarian tribes were stretching their chains, testing how much they would be restrained, all to Vortis’ own suffering, alas. Alston had yet to take a life, but knew that would be necessary, as surely as Madeline was destined for the birthing bed he was destined for battle.

“I’ll be back safely, my love,” he told his wife, holding her stomach and kissing both it and her lips. “I promise you. Don’t fret now.”

She had to wipe away tears from her eyes. “Damn emotions! I could have my baby any day now and you’re heading off! It’s hardly fair.”

“Now you know how I felt all those times you went away. At least you’re not getting kidnapped?”

She crossed her arms over her belly and beneath her breasts. “I don’t think many dragons are in the market for formerly male pregnant noblewomen. Look, just be safe, my love. Listen to Sir Harold. And for Gods’ sakes, I don’t care how appropriate or not it is for a man, I want you there at my side at the birthing bed. I want you there, please.”

He kissed her on the forehead, something she had come to love despite how female it made her feel.

“I will be back, my lady.”

“You better be, my knight. I may not swing a sword now, but I have a cast-iron skillet I can readily handle.”

They kissed once more, this time with even greater passion, and then he parted from her, getting on his horse and whisking away. She placed a hand on the swollen belly she never imagined she’d ever had, and found comfort in it.

“That’s your father, little one,” she murmured. “Your mother misses him already. Damn that well for making me such an emotional woman!”

***

It was just seven days later that Madeline’s waters broke. She missed her husband terribly, her pregnancy making her even more attached than usual. Jenna was there to help her, of course, as were the other staff, but she spent long hours simply resting back and subject to the squirming of her child. Her stomach was a large dome now, dominating her figure, and to her embarrassment her breasts had started to leak their early milk.

“I feel like a damn cow,” she uttered to herself, staring at her naked reflection in the mirror of her bathroom as she pinched her breasts. More milk leaked as a result, and the sensation was strange, alien. “More than enough milk in these udders, too. Gods, Alston, I need you to come home and take care of this again. I need you just to come home.”

She sighed, large chest rising and falling, the pair of them sat upon her taut dome. She cupped it, trying to relieve herself of the weight, when suddenly.

“Nghh! Ohhhhh!”

Suddenly, water trickled down her thighs, leaking from her womanhood. The woman was briefly confused, but a sharp stabbing pain in her stomach, followed by a tension between her legs made her realise exactly what was going on.

“Ahhhh - oh, oh, oh. Oh Gods. It’s happening. My waters have b-broken.”

She swallowed, riding out the pain. It wasn’t as completely terrible as she thought it would be, but then it was early labor yet, and she was still bending over, clutching her stomach as she fought to regain her breath. Finally, it passed.

“Sh-shit. It’s happening. It’s actually happening.”

She opened the door, where her handmaiden Nettie was waiting on the other side. She looked briefly just a little shocked to find her mistress completely naked, though it wasn’t completely out of the ordinary. Perhaps it was just the look of fear on Madeline’s face that gave it away.

“Mistress, are you-”

“Send every raven we’ve got! I want my husband here, now! There’s no way I’m giving birth without him!”

The woman took off, summoning Jenna to help Madelnie. By the time she arrived, another contraction was about to begin.

“B-by the Black Mountain, I can’t b-believe the things that h-happen to m-meeee!”

***

Alston raced home, pushing his mare to its very limits to arrive back at the estate. He had been celebrating with his fellow knights on their victory. It had been a mere skirmish, but one that had pushed this little tribe of Northerners back in line with the mandate of their leaders, the ones Vortis had signed treaties with. Alston had taken his first life as well, and part of it haunted him. He knew that Marcus had never celebrated it - the death of monsters and foul beasts, perhaps, but never truly the death of fellow human beings. But it had to be done; the man had come at him with a mace, having already helped burn down part of a village, and Alston had simply done what needed to be done. His knights had assured him that the first time was the hardest, and their camaraderie had seen him through, along with some helpful drink. He now had a far greater respect for Madeline’s old life, even more than before.

But such thoughts were furthest from his minds when the raven messenger found them. There was magic upon it, and while he had kept his prying interest away from them out of respect for their demands, Alston could detect the faint work of Kathorn in making sure the message reached him.

Madeline was in labor.

Madeline was in labor.

They’d been making his way back slowly to the estates, but Harold immediately released him to make the journey without the rest of them. Now, he positively raced, eagre to be there for his wife and child. To witness the birth of new life to salve the fact that he’d so recently taken one. 

The moment he arrived in the front courtyard, Nettie was racing out to him, providing no formality whatsoever and all the better a handmaiden for it.

“She’s up in the east wing!” she declared as he ran past. “She’s been in labour nearly eighteen hours. She is nearly ready to push! Hurry!”

He didn’t thank her; there would be time for that later. Instead he ran up the halls, peeling away his studded leathers as he did so, leaving scraps of it in every room until he was just in his breeches and shirt. He burst into the room, outside of which stood a number of servants. He dispelled them immediately, and the moment he entered was greeted to the sight of Madeline laying back in a white garment on the bed, her legs slightly spread, a mass of pillows behind her. She had one hand on her large pregnant womb, the other punching the side of the bed from the pains of her contractions. Her face was sweaty, her hair matted in parts to her forehead, and she looked positively exhausted. And yet one look from her to him was more magnificent than anything in the world, because an instant relief seemed to sweep over her.

“Alston!” she exclaimed, tears forming in her eyes immediately.

“Madeline!” 

He rushed to her side, clutching her hand. Sara the apothecary had been summoned as midwife, and Jenna was aiding her. 

“She’s about ready to push soon,” the midwife said. “She’s nearly fully dilated. A solid labour, this one. Not the longest by far, at least.”

“F-feels long!” Madeline gasped. She kissed Alston as he pressed his face against hers. “What took you so long?”

“Had a battle. Small skirmish. I did well.”

“I’m p-proud. Longsword or shortsword, which do you - nghh! Gods, again! So close!”

“Close is good,” Sara said. “Close means we’re about ready to go.”

Alston squeezed his wife’s hand. “You’re doing well, my love.”

“It’s been a long day. Been in labour since m-mid afternoon yesterday. Gods, I barely slept! How do women do this?”

“It’s your battlefield, just think of it as that. Your battlefield, my love.”

But Madeline just sighed. “N-no. I think I’m done with battlefields, even if I become a man again. I just want my child. I want to hold him. Even if it means g-giving birth. I don’t care. It’s not embarrassing to me anymore. Just painful. I want him in my arms, Alston. I want to give us a child. I can’t explain it.”

“It’s just what any mother feels,” Sara explained.

Madeline nodded, seeing wisdom in this. She felt like a mother. So much pain and pressure, so much discomfort; how could she not feel as if she’d earned the title now? And more than that, she found herself wanting the title. She wanted to be a mother, to hold her child, and judging from the pressure in her breasts, to feed it as well. To nourish, rather than take life, for once.

“I’m so proud, my love,” Alston said. “You’re going to be a mother. You can do this.”

“I - I can. I can do this. I can - Ohhhh! NGH! I can’t! Shit, but I can’t! God, it’s p-painful as a dragon’s bite!”

“Push now!” the midwife called. “Big pushes, and remember your breaths.”

“You’re not a man right now, remember,” Alston whispered to her. “You’re a woman. And women have done this in every age. You can do it too.”

Madeline nodded, collected herself. She gripped her husband’s hand, and Jenna’s on the other side of the bed.

And then she pushed. She bore down her body like never before. She’d faced just giant spiders, malevolent demons, a cruel cursing dragon, and so many other threats. Somehow, this seemed the greatest challenge she would ever surmount. And with her husband at her side, she knew she could do it.

“Push! Keep pushing!”

“I am! I’m pushing! I can f-feel! I can - NNGHH!!!”

Sara confirmed that she could see the head. Alston kept close by Madeline’s face, whispering encouragements to her. Jenna did this also. The pain for Madeline was extraordinary, so different from anything she had ever felt as a man. The child’s head began to crown, and she felt her vaginal opening stretch inhumanly wide to accommodate it. There was a ring of fire in her womanhood, but still she pushed, wanting more than anything not just to be done but to see her child.

And then she pushed again, and the head was out. Another terrible push, and a shoulder came free, followed by another. And from there, Sara helped guide the child out completely. An immediate relief hit Madeline, a flood of sensation that soothed her even with the remaining pain and soreness. She didn’t even care that someone was cleaning her up at her entrance with some towels. All that mattered was what Sara was presenting to her like the grandest prize in all of the known and unknown planes of existence.

“Congratulations,” she said, placing a squirming, crying child on Madeline’s chest, which Jenna helped unbutton her shirt to give skin contact. “You have a baby girl.”

Madeline couldn’t help it. Former manhood be damned; she burst into tears of joy and clutched the blotched, slightly bruised form of her daughter. The cries ceased immediately, the child recognising its mother, little eyes searching.

“Oh Gods, oh Gods, I did it. Alston, I did it. I did it. I gave birth. We have a daughter. Gods, we have a daughter, oh by the Gods.”

Alston held her, marvelling at the child he was now a father of. 

“We have a daughter,” he repeated, touching the child softly. “My love, we did it. We finally have a child.”

Even in the soreness and tiredness and overwhelming weight of it all, the loving pair shared the widest smiles of all.

The afterbirth was taken care of later, and Alston cut the cord. Then, the baby began mewling again.

“I think she’s hungry,” Alston said.

“I can be the wetnurse, if required, mistress,” Jenna offered to Madeline.

But the new mother surprised even herself. She answered the calling of her new maternal instincts, not to mention the pressure in her chest. She parted her shirt again to expose one of her mammoth breasts, and with Alston’s help got her daughter upon it. The baby took some time but soon latched, and then Madeline cooed softly as the first of her milk was extracted.

“Ohhhh,” she sighed. “That’s not too bad, actually. I can’t believe I’m b-breastfeeding. I can’t believe I just gave birth.”

“To a daughter, no less.”

“S-so much for motherly instinct, huh? I guess I’m not a full mother, technically.”

“You are,” Alston said, taking her hand. “You are, my love.”

They both watched their daughter suckle away. 

“What shall we call her?” Alston asked.

Madeline considered this for some time. “We both wanted this child for a long time. We searched for so long for a way to have her. We hoped. Maybe that’s a good name, my love? Hope.”

Alston regarded his daughter. “It’s the perfect name, my life.”

Not ten minutes later, Madeline was asleep with Hope in her arms, who was also sleeping peacefully in the wide new world she had entered. The new father was beside them.

“My love,” he whispered to his wife in a moment of privacy. “I’m so proud of you. You did what I never could. Maybe we were meant to change places all along.”

Perhaps the sleeping new mother heard his words, or perhaps was just dreaming of her child, but Madeline actually smiled.

To Be Concluded . . .