Page 56 of Bewitched

The dragon started its descent, but something was wrong. There was a lurching sensation in Medea’s stomach that made her feel extremely odd. When she looked down to her waist, she gasped. Her stomach was huge! Then, against her wishes, she started to shift out of the form of Marco and back into herself.

The dragon must have realized then that it had been tricked. It looked back over its shoulder and roared loudly.

“Ooops,” said Medea, holding out her hand to see that she was once again herself. “That’s a good dragon,” she said, patting it on the head. “Now, kill the King. Please?” she added, but it didn’t do any good. When they swooped down to the King, instead of blasting the man with fire, the dragon shook her off of its back and took off back up into the sky letting out a loud, angry roar.

“Oooomph.” Medea landed hard in the courtyard, on the ground right at the King’s feet.

The soldiers shot arrows at the dragon and chased its path with their swords drawn. The dragon retreated, quickly making its way back to the Quamm Caves. This left Medea there by herself. All alone. Again.

On her hands and knees, she retched. Then she looked up slightly to see the shoes of the King. Her belly hurt like the devil. It was so big right now that she felt like she’d swallowed a melon.

“Who are you?” growled the King.

Medea’s eyes roamed up higher and higher, stopping at the King’s face.

“Hello, King. I’m... Medea. Remember me?” She tried to sound fierce, but it was becoming too difficult since she felt weighted down and as if she wanted to die.

“You’re the witch.” The King unsheathed his sword and his men ran over to him.

“I’m Medea,” she repeated, barely able to speak. “It’s a name you won’t want to forget.” She had meant to blast him with her powers just then for more effect. Unfortunately, it took all her strength just to lift her hand. She thought she felt lots of movement in her belly now, and didn’t understand what was happening to her.

“Seize her,” commanded the King, pointy a beefy finger right at her.

His guards grabbed her and yanked her up and to her feet.

“Don’t touch me,” she snapped. “I’m a powerful witch and I could kill you all with just a... just a... oooooh... ow!” She cried out in pain, looking down to her feet to see a puddle of water mixed with blood dripping down her legs and to the ground. Her belly hurt more than anything now.

“Throw her in the dungeon,” screamed the King, but his men hesitated.

“She’s pregnant, my King,” said one of the guards.

“I am?” Medea looked down to her belly again and groaned. She had only just lain with Rhys, so it was much too soon to be pregnant. Then again, she realized, when her mother had conceived her, she had been told her birth happened very quickly. She realized now exactly what was happening to her. It was if her life was repeating itself, but with her as the mother this time. She moaned in pain, falling to the ground.

“Sire, I think she is birthing the baby,” said one of the King’s men.

“What? Here?” asked the King. “Nay! Take her to the tower chamber, and call the midwife. Fast!”

“I’m a powerful witch,” she said, under her breath, her eyes closing since she felt so drained of energy. Then she cried out in pain, feeling something happening. It was pain like she’d never felt before.

She was pregnant and having Rhys’ baby. That is, a very magical baby was being born even sooner than she’d been born, if she wasn’t mistaken. She wasn’t sure if by using her dark magic she had sped up the birthing process, or if this is how it would be every time she was pregnant, since her own birth and aging happened so fast because of one of Hecuba’s spells. This couldn’t be happening. It shouldn’t be. Should it? Sadly, Medea started to wonder if she was becoming just as evil as her mother.

“Rap? Rhys,” she wailed as the guards dragged her into the keep. Medea was frightened for the second time in her life and this time it wasn’t because of a sea serpent. She had all her powers, but it didn’t matter. If she could use her powers to stop all this from happening, she would, but unfortunately, she didn’t know how, or even if it was possible. Medea had no idea what she was supposed to do. All alone once again, she would have to face this herself, and that made her very sad. Medea really needed Rhys at her side right now, because she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to birth a baby—his baby—all by herself.

Fourteen

Before Medea even had time to come to terms with what was happening, she found herself holding her newborn baby daughter in her arms. Lying back on the bed in the King’s tower chamber, she stared down at the wailing infant, still in shock and unable to speak.

“What a nice baby,” said the midwife who had helped to deliver the child. “What will you name your daughter?” The woman washed her hands in a basin of water. There were two guards standing just outside the door.

“I- I-I’m not sure,” Medea muttered, using all her energy just to answer the woman. She felt so tired that she could probably sleep for a week right now.

“Well, the baby sure is beautiful and looks a lot like you,” said the midwife. “Except for that oaken hair and those big green eyes. Does she get that from her father, I suppose?” The midwife was most likely just trying to make conversation, but Medea wanted her to shut up so she could think.

“I suppose so.” Medea swallowed deeply, looking down at the squalling baby. This was not unlike a dream. It had happened too fast, and she was having a hard time believing it was real. She still felt her head spinning, and was so dizzy that she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t fall right out of the bed.

What would Rhys say if he knew? Medea wondered. Would he want a daughter or a son? Would he want children at all? The worst part was that she didn’t know if Rhys would even want her anymore, now that she’d given in to the dark side and left him. Confusion muddled her brain.

“What is your name, my lady?” asked the midwife, sounding too kind to her. Medea didn’t feel as if she deserved it.