Work Text:
Cheoljong carefully cradles the baby in his arms, making sure to support the head just like how the midwife taught him.
The baby feels so tiny in his arms. Warm, soft, and tiny. His finger slowly caresses the soft tufts of hair on the baby’s soft head.
Bothered by the motion perhaps, it let out a cry in protest.
Loud.
Cheoljong chuckled as he mentally added that to the list of words he associates with his baby.
Warm, soft, tiny, and loud.
Just like his wife, apparently.
Carefully cradling the child, Cheoljong tried to soothe the whining baby. He had read that rhythmic pats along with his low hums would slowly lull babies to sleep. When that didn’t work, Cheoljong wracks his brain – trying to find any way to calm the crying child.
“Shhh,” he tried whispering.
“I’m here, little one. It’s okay.” Perhaps the baby felt unfamiliar with this new environment?
The newborn’s eyes opened, and Cheoljong smiled.
His son had the Queen’s eyes.
Did he recognize his voice?
“I’m your father,” As the word left his lips, he marveled at how foreign yet familiar the word is now. He had witnessed his own father’s death and lived in exile. His father’s death caused him nightmares – yet here he is becoming a father himself.
Their gazes met, and Cheoljong couldn’t help but wonder what the child was thinking.
Perhaps, recognition? Relief?
“Your mother has been through a lot of pain to have you,” Cheoljong said. The Queen went through a day of labor before giving birth to their child. Labor had begun late at night, and the baby finally arrived by sunset the next day. He had been worried sick waiting, but worse of all - he'd felt helpless. Unable to do anything to ease his wife's pain.
The newborn’s eyebrows furrow, almost apologetic.
“It’s okay… I heard firstborns tend to take a long time. But you have to be a really good child to your mother,”
Silence filled the small room. Various thoughts enter his head. There is too much yet nothing to say.
"Thank you for being born healthily." tears welling up in Cheoljong's eyes. He quickly wipes it off, not wanting to shed tears on this joyful day.
“Your hands are so tiny,” he whispered, careful not to startle the child.
The tip of his finger fits inside the baby’s tiny palm, and he held it tight.
So precious, pure… And so fragile.
“I will protect you no matter what, little one.”
At that moment, Cheoljong knew.
Whatever sacrifice he should make for the sake of this tiny, wriggly baby, it’ll all be worth it.