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William was born to be a soldier. It was a truth that was true as snow was cold. That much he knew from the moment he first wield a sword. From the moment he found the strength in him to speak up against injustice. It was a dream and life he spent years ingraining into his very being.
And yet, here he stood in the hallway trembling worse than a leaf being blown in the wind. On the other side of the wall, his wife's cries echoed through the wing. The battle she fought in that room put all battles William had been in to shame.
That's all it is , William told himself. Just another battle. Alysson is just leading our troops forward this time around. It's just another--
Alysson's scream made his blood run cold. He dropped his back against the wall, running a hand down his face. Snow above he wasn't ready for this. He could handle the fighting, the struggle, the pain, the death --but making a life was something he would never be ready for.
He had been in the war room prior to the evening. Angra's forces were drawing closer to Januarri and their offenses were dwindling far too quickly. He was discussing defensive counters and evacuation plans with the queen and his men when a woman gingerly poked her head in the room.
"I'm so sorry to disturb you, your majesty. I have an important message for Sir Loren," she had said. "It's your wife Sir. She's gone into labor."
For all things considered, the news should have been reported after the child was born. After their plan had been cemented. After Winter's safety was ensured. Yet, one look from his Queen was all it took to have him running to his and his wife's quarters. He scrambled to a halt, fist raised and ready to enter--but when he heard the first scream, he froze.
Reality had crushed down on him in that moment. A child was pushing his way out to freedom and for once, William realized, he had no plan. No plan. No maneuver. Nothing to keep the child safe from the war growing on their doorstep.
William clutched at the Queen's Guard pin at his chest and snarled. He was Sir William Loren of the Queen's Guard--first in command to the throne. He was a protector--a soldier--he wasn't supposed to feel...
"I'm not scared Alysson," William had said. He dropped his forehead on her shoulder. "I'm terrified."
"That's it dear, just another push!" The midwife's voice carried over the screams.
"How am I supposed to raise a child when I can barely keep my men from running from Spring?"
"One more!"
William jolted in surprise as Alysson bumped her forehead against his. His heart, even after all this time, skipped a beat at the soft smile she gave him. She took his hand in hers and placed it over the swell of her stomach.
"You're not alone William," she whispered. "You'll never be alone again."
William concealed a jump as the door swung open. The midwife was ready to turn the corner when she froze at the sight of William. She blinked at him owlishly then gave him a nod.
"Care to meet your son, General." It wasn't a question.
William followed her into the room. He squinted into through the shadows swathing the walls save for the oil lit candles surrounding the bed. He watched from the door at his wife. Her chest heaved, catching her breath, while beads of sweat made her hair cling to her face in clumps. Truth be told, William realized, she was as radiant as the first day he met her. He quietly approached the bedside, kneeling down to her.
"Hello love," he whispered. His fingers carefully pushed the matted strands of hair from her face behind her ear. Alysson followed his touch and turned her head to him. "You look beautiful."
Alysson smiled. She raised one hand to grasp his. "You look tired."
"I'll take that as a compliment," he said.
A woman gently cleared her throat, bringing the pair's gaze up. A young woman, the midwife's protege, cradled a bundle of blankets in her arms. Alysson strained to sit up, swatting William's hands from trying to lay her back down, and silently held out her arms. The woman carefully laid the bundle in her arms and Alysson let out a sob.
William's heart thundered in his chest as Alysson brought the blankets closer. And for the first time--the storm of the war, the voices of his people, the cacophony of strategies and failures went silent. The only thing that existed in the world at that moment was his and Alysson's child.
Their child.
Tears trekked down Alysson's cheeks. "Hello Mather." The baby wailed and gurgled, his tiny hands grasping the air above him.
William tentatively reached out his hand to touch Alysson when the baby reached out and grasped his fingers. Mather wrapped his chubby digits around William's pointer finger and let out a soft coo. Soft, sapphire eyes gazed up at him in innocent wonder. William felt his heart swell and shatter all at once.
"He has your nose," Alysson said breathlessly.
William blinked back the warmth threatening to spill in eyes. "He has your eyes."
Angra be damned. The war can burn the whole world to ash. If this world came crashing down, he swore that the Spring King was crashing down with it. Because for Winter, for Alysson-- for Mather, he would fight any monster.
Just as his mind began to run through the battle plans, the tiny hand around his finger squeezed. The gesture seemed to yank William from the mental war room he built so long ago. Just for this moment--this lone moment was William's alone. He would return to the soldier he was born to be within the hour. But for now, William was a father.