The midwives’ guild has seen some strange things- and sometimes discretion is the most important thing they can offer -- Weirdlet
When is a Guild not a Guild? When it has no chapterhouses, no schools, and little in the way of formal prenticeships. When there is no set uniform and the tools are those that the practitioners find handy, and are only available locally. Where the school is at two pairs of knees, and one is the patient. Yet, despite all of that, they are all unified in ethics and spirit.
Rule one: Save as many lives as possible.
Rule two: Tell the truth unless it puts rule one at risk.
Rule three: Get the expectant co-parents the fuck out of the area, they are more hinderance than help.
Rule four: Listen, understand, and leave your judgement between your ears.
Rule five: Sometimes, it is necessary to be sure that there won't be a birth.
Midwives don't have to be married, though they usually were. They knew all the secrets of their area of service and kept them tight and secure. That is, if they were any good. Nobody liked to tell the truth to a gossip, and truth can save more than one life.
Or endanger one.
Goodwife Steinmann kept her lips sealed about many things. Especially when the matter was sensitive. Such as one who was technically underage unexpectedly becoming a parent.
Lali Marolba came to Steinmann's attention by wearing bulky winter gear long past the months when it was at all sensible to do so. Which meant that she had to be trying to hide a baby bump. Which meant that it was already too late to use the standard methods. Of course her father noticed, and it was a good thing he did so before the poor little fool could faint from heat prostration.
"It has to be the Hellkin," insisted Rolamaer Marolba. "Everyone knows that beast was sniffing after my baby girl."
Baby. Ha. She was nineteen, not even one fifth of the way towards Elven standards of maturity. Goodwife Steinmann knew that some young Elves went through "the terrible twenties" in which they did very dumb things to try and match their shorter-lived contemporaries. Getting pregnant had to be one of the dumbest of the lot.
Goodwife Steinmann had a long list of difficult-to-get supplies. She handed it to Rolamaer. "I need you to get these things for me. They're essential." What they were was essential to keep him the hells away from her examination of her primary patient.
She asked a chain of questions designed to put young Lali at ease. When her birthday was. How she liked to spend her time. What her daily routine looked like. All the while knowing that Elves took twice as long to bear a bairn to birthing as a Human might. If the child inside her was anything other than fully Elven, it would grow much faster and tax her body all the greater.
While Goodwife Steinmann asked those questions, she took measure of Lali's pulse, peered into her eyes, and scrutinised her teeth. Absolutely no sign of the kinds of distress a little Halfbred should cause.
Goodwife Steinmann was also measuring Lali's pulse when she said, "And the last time you had your menses?
"I never had them, ma'am." Truth. "That's why it took so long to realise I was... anticipating."
Morning sickness got all of them at three months into affairs. "When were you feeling poorly? Sick in the stomach or queasy?"
"Only a month ago." Her pulse jumped like a hare. A lie.
"Don't lie to me, little girl. The truth will spare you and the little one in your belly."
"Papa's going to accuse the Hellkin anyway. Why not let it stay that way?"
"So you know who," said Goodwife Steinmann.
Blushing. "Horig Nanushim said he was going to wed me and take me away from my house. He just needed permission from his Aunty."
"Fool girl, Horig Nanushim has been betrothed to a conglomeration of Forest Elves since he was a toddler. He was never going to fulfil his promise."
"...at least he's a full Elf," Lali mumbled. "Papa's going to drag you to testify in court. Could you... lie in my favour?" An added whisper, "The Hellkin's a Lord."
"No. I won't tell the court what your father wants. I won't name the sire of the bastard you're growing. I can only find a young lad willing to wed a girl with cuckoo in her nest." A solid glare at her middle, obviously rounding out with a new life. "And you're in no state to be picky."
"You don't understand," said Lali between gritted teeth. "I need to get away from my father. Please. I will do anything to leave his house. Even if it means going halfway across the world."
Another glare that tried to drill the message, You are a very stupid girl, into her fluffy little head. "If he is a Lord, then he's already engaged so someone with an enormous dowry and a title. And if he ain't a Lord, then he's another fellow who's lied to you. You're the daughter of a flower farmer and you have nothing to offer anyone. Especially now. You owe it to the babe to at least pretend its wanted. And I owe your father a reasonable groom."
Rolamaer returned with as much of the list as he could get before he realised what the game was. "She told you her bastard's sire?" he demanded, dumping the offerings at her feet.
They would be useful in their own way, but not here and now. "Aye. And I'll not breathe a word of it. That's the code. I keep the secrets I'm told. It's how I stay in business. I can tell you that it's not the lad you suspect. No threats or magic can change that. Just as no force nor magic can shake the babe loose inside her. Not without killing her."
She could see Rolamaer contemplating murder. Even if it was for a fraction of a second.
He returned to seething anger. "I'll be taking this to court."
"As you will. I'll be stopping by in a month to be sure of her health and to give her a list of rescuing husbands."
In two months, it was in the Wolklippenstadt court with the only Hellkin in the area as prime paternity suspect. And no witnesses to the blue devilborn's defence.
All Goodwife Steinmann could say about it was, "The Hellkin is not the father of Miss Marolba's unborn child."
Rolamaer's ranting insistance otherwise was shot down by five words from the Hellkin.
"I demand trial by unicorn."
And because he was a Hellkin, they went to the trouble of getting one to judge him pure or kill him for the deception. The entire town gathered to watch, including the freshly-wed Lali Aredhel.
A lone Hellkin in nothing but a loincloth knelt in the centre of the old arena. So calm that the observers couldn't see his pulse. The gates rose, releasing the unicorn into the arena, and the Hellkin didn't so much as twitch. The Faekindred beast gambolled about the area, tossing its head and lashing its tail. It circled the Hellkin widdershins before licking his brow, then curling up with its head in his lap.
It was a stunning sight. Nobody had ever seen a unicorn lick anyone before. Nor a Hellkin scratching one behind the ears.
Rolamaer refused to pay one copper's worth of restitution to the Hellkin.
If you like my stories, please Check out my blog and Follow me. Or share them with your friends! Or visit my hub site to see what else I'm up to.
My Prompt Forum is currently down, but if you want to send me a prompt, post it on my Discord's emergency prompt supply.