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Riftan hasn’t blinked in almost five minutes and he was starting to actually feel concerned for himself.
It has been a while since he moved as well. He was usually so restless - always on the move, flitting to and fro, never stopping and never second guessing. It was different now. Riftan had been as still as a statue by her bedside for God-knows-how long while the rest of the world passed on by. It was night now, and the moon was bright.
He had finally rallied everyone out of their quarters a few hours ago - the physicians, the midwives, and even an unusually-anxious Ruth. The maids have cleaned up all the blood and, with Riftan’s help, changed the soiled bed sheets. Maximilian, ever so tired, slept through the cleanup process. It was quiet now and it was almost like nothing happened. Yet the noise in Riftan’s head continued to buzz. It was like he had a moth clanging around inside his skull.
For a moment or two, Riftan tried to pin a name on what he was currently feeling. Was he happy? He must be, for sure. He must be. Otherwise he would be a monster if he wasn’t. Riftan really is happy. He promises. He just couldn’t understand why his face felt like it was going to crack into pieces if he did so much as smile.
Her tortured scream echoed within his head again and he gulped, his own saliva feeling like granite in his throat. His wife had put up a strong front, as always, and tried her best to hide her pain. Even then, the gift of life was too excruciating of a burden even for the most stubborn of women. God decided to make that an obvious fact. Maximilian had gripped his hand so tight her nails drew blood.
Not once did he let her go, terribly terribly afraid that her hand might go lax.
But she didn’t, and she had been an anchor for him as much as he was for her. Not once did his wife beg for it all to stop, that she was tired and unable and that she wanted to give up, even though she looked like she was one foot in the grave. Riftan saw the same undefeatable look on her face, and when the midwives ordered her to stay awake and push once she began to close her eyes from fatigue, she simply grit her teeth and got to work. It was raw, bloody, terrifying, and Riftan couldn’t bear to look away even if he tried. She was so beautiful it hurt.
“Riftan.”
His knees almost buckle at the sudden, yet quiet, sound. Her voice was so faint he wasn’t even sure he heard her or if he had finally gone insane.
And then, Maximilian speaks again.
“Do you plan on staring at me for the rest of the night?”
It finally dawns on him. She’s awake. Riftan sank into the plush mattress, pushing away a few wayward strands of hair from her face. Muscle memory.
“How long have you been awake?”
She slowly opens her bloodshot eyes, the color taking his breath away as usual. But something was different tonight. They were practically twinkling . Riftan surveys the rest of her body. Her skin was pale and she seemed exhausted - which was to be expected, the midwife told a panicked Riftan - but her eyes were bright. She looked peaceful.
“Not too long.” She whispers, smiling gently. She had an unexplainable glow. Riftan couldn’t place it. He gulps and turns away, afraid that he might go mad.
“You must be hungry.” Not bothering to wait for a confirmation, he gently props her up on the new pillows he bought for her - they were stuffed with the feathers of a rare goose and resting on them felt like placing your body on a cloud - before leaving the bed to take a tray of food he had warmed by the fire.
“Is there chicken pie?” She asks curiously in a voice stirred with sleep, eyeing the tray. Riftan stills.
Of course. How could he forget? The dish had been one of her favorites during her pregnancy.
“I’m afraid not.”
“Oh, then that’s - “
He swallowed a groan and placed the tray on the table. “I will have the kitchens make you one. Wait a moment.“
Riftan was about to bolt out of the room and think of ways to make a meat pie at breakneck speeds when Maxi had reached out a hand and clasped his wrist.
“It’s alright, Riftan. I don’t need the pie.”
“But you want - “
“Yes, but I don’t need it now. ”
Her tone was low and coaxing, gently intoning that he should just drop the subject. Once Riftan finally relented and sat back down, Maxi let out a giggle.
“What?”
“You should see your face.”
“Hm?”
She giggles again. “You look anxious.”
“Oh spare me.” Riftan smiles, despite her teasing, as he picks up the wooden spoon from her tray. “It has been a rough day.”
Maxi lets him feed her some creamy mushroom soup and soft buttered bread - her actual favorite - with little resistance. Riftan feels a little dismayed that she looked like she had a hard time even lifting a finger, but she didn’t look too out of it. A little color had returned to her cheeks and she seemed to be regaining strength. Judging from how terrible her pain seemed to be a few hours ago, Riftan couldn’t help but expect the worst.
“How are you feeling?”
She obediently swallows the spoonful of soup before looking at him earnestly.
“If I am being honest, I feel absolutely exhausted.”
Riftan smiles despite himself. Years ago, she would have told him that she was fine. Riftan was sure she could have been trampled by a horse and she would still insist that she was fine. Time was funny. “Are you still in pain?”
She moves her legs a little beneath the sheets, wincing ever so slightly. “The stitches hurt, but not too much.” Confusion hits him for a moment.
“What stitches?”
“The midwives, they… You know , they stitched me up there . Just to close me up again.”
Riftan’s eyes widened impossibly. “ What ?”
“Riftan, did you expect me to remain intact while I push your son’s giant melon head out of me? The tearing of a woman’s privates is to be expected during childbirth.”
He reeled at the visualization. Hours ago, Riftan was given the luxury to peek at the exact moment their child decided to finally enter the world, and while the baby was a blessing, the sight was not pretty. He was sure that if he hadn’t been a hardened warrior, forged by gore and blood and death, that he would have fainted from the gruesome scene. The fact that Maxi had to endure further poking and prodding from the midwives only filled him with further dread.
“They didn’t bother to tell me about that.”
Maxi looks a little perplexed at the genuine disappointment on Riftan’s face. “I didn’t think you would be interested in such trivialities.”
Of course she didn’t. Indeed Riftan was with her during the routine health check-ups from the physician or from Ruth. They had asked questions together and gathered as much information as they could about the baby, but Maxi did not know of Riftan’s research on the side. He talked to the midwives, read some books, and learned everything he could about childbirth and the womanly anatomy - even the things that disturbed him. It was funny, for a vast majority of his life he didn’t even know about menstruation. Excitement can make a person do strange things, or perhaps it could be fear.
“I have been told that I will heal in a week or two, so everything will be back to normal.”
He hums. “Good.”
Riftan lets her finish the rest of the soup. Afterwards, he stands up to put away the tray, only to finally reveal his first gift to her as the mother of his child: a wine glass, filled to the brim with deep dark alcohol. Riftan finally dug up the expensive, forty-year old barrel of wine he was saving for a special occasion. Only the finest wine in the castle’s cellar for the lady of Anatol.
Maxi practically moans. “Please.”
He couldn’t help but laugh, placing the cup in her hands. She gulped down thirstily and her enthusiasm had her almost spilling over the bedsheets. Riftan watches her, enamored.
“I still don’t understand why pregnant women are not allowed to drink.”
“Neither do I. Honestly, I did not want to believe the midwives at first. Apparently that was newfound information, but lots of pregnant women surely drink wine. Their children must be alright as well, no?”
He looks at her imploringly. “So why bother abstaining?”
As soon as she finishes the last drop, Maxi drops the cup to her lap, fingers idly tracing the intricate engravings on the side.
“I didn’t want to risk anything.”
Silence befalls them.
Riftan wasn’t sure if it was tense or not, but he knew that this was a topic that caused them to walk on eggshells around each other.
He never once blamed her for the loss of their first child. The thought wouldn’t even dare to pierce his mind, but it seemed to plague her more than he liked. It was how things went on with them. Riftan supposes he understood her in a way. Perhaps she viewed children as an obligation to him. A son to pass on his legacy, if you will. But Riftan had been too obsessed with his obligation to her as her husband. While Maxi fretted over her ability to bear children, Riftan could only think of her , her safety and health and happiness -
The fact started to scare him, and he didn’t want to acknowledge the possibility that he did not want children. Lots of other men destroyed their wives and their families over their inability to procure an heir, but all Riftan needed was her . Maybe for a brief moment, before all the revelations and the ugly truths, he was given the chance to dream of children without any reprieve. And then the wars came along and her first miscarriage. Seeing the love of his life in brutal pain did some strange, unfathomable things to his psyche, and Riftan proceeded to tunnel vision. All that mattered was her. Up until he finally saw the tiny wailing human, Riftan was ashamed to admit that he had trouble envisioning the baby as something real.
A weird, unsettling feeling suddenly washed over him. Was he going to be a bad father? Riftan knew little to nothing about siring a child. Plus, apparently making sure they don’t become something regrettable was a whole other thing. He had practically raised some of the junior knights before, up until they grew into the men that they are now. But this was… this was different . Something so different and terrifying and unknown and Riftan wasn’t sure if he was going to get it right. Perhaps he and his mother are simply two mirrors of each other, and he was a damn hypocrite for scorning her for so long, only to realize that he was no better.
Church bells suddenly echoed faintly in the distance, causing Maxi to whip her head in the window’s direction.
“W-What’s that?”
Riftan looked thoughtfully into the distance, past the mountains and into the blurry silhouette of the town proper. The buildings were alight and he could faintly see people scurrying down the wide set streets. It was still early into the night, and the massive bell atop the local church swung to and fro.
“The church has most likely heard word of the birth of our son.”
“Oh.” Maxi mutters thoughtfully. Riftan wonders if Maxi knew of the massive celebrations the townspeople had prepared for her. They had been anticipating the birth of Anatol’s future liege, so much so that Riftan hid their boisterous expectations from his wife in an effort to keep her calm. He reasoned that it was for her wellbeing, but deep down he knows he was just as anxious. In all honesty, the townspeople probably just wanted an excuse to get drunk. “Did you accept the pope’s offer?”
He removes the empty wine glass from her hand. “I want you to focus on getting better first. We have plenty of time to make a decision.”
“But you mustn’t keep the pope waiting, Riftan. He is different from King Reuben.”
Riftan smirks. He was powerful enough now that even the ghost of Uigru couldn’t touch him, so delaying a message to the pope wouldn’t even tickle, but then again his wife was the more sophisticated one between the two of them.
“Well, what do you want?”
A thoughtful look passes over her face, as if she was thankful that he considered her decision.
“I think… having our son baptized by the pope himself would be an honor.”
“Mhm.”
“Did you know that… King Reuben personally requested for the pope to baptize Elias?”
He is a little taken aback. Happening upon the confused look on his face, she nods, almost in a conspiratorial manner. It was cute how she lowered her voice into a whisper even though they were the only two people in the room.
“Rosetta told me that the king wanted to further establish the heir’s reputation, s-so he put in a good word and the pope agreed after some discussion..”
“But the pope offered to baptize our son himself .”
The fact had him thinking for a moment. The church did seem to think that he surpassed myth and legend after he won Uigru’s sword in that tournament, plus the neverending feats and battles he has won in the name of humanity, but he began to wonder if their generosity had an underlying agenda. His rise in power has led to an increase in conspirators and traitors who wanted to bring him down. A new feeling of dread rose within him: would they go after his children as well?
She shrugs, her eyes alight with something Riftan couldn’t place. “I suppose he likes you more than he likes the monarchy.”
“ Us , Maxi. He likes us . We are married.”
“Yes, but I’m not the one who killed a dragon twice now am I?”
Riftan smiles, pinching her cheek playfully. She only scrunches her nose and takes it. “No, but you did lead two wars to victory. I suppose those feats are worthy of the pope’s favor.” Talking about her contributions to the war was easier now. Remembering her in pain and anguish still constituted a pain within him that can never heal, but seeing her on the battlefield after she had found her strength - bright eyed and enthusiastic and powerful - managed to act as a soothing balm over the wound.
“I did not lead anything - “
“You are also the woman who will obtain adequate bed rest before we even think about preparing to go to Osirya.”
Maxi pouts, bottom lip protruding and all, but she does not refuse.
Riftan couldn’t help himself and steals a kiss from her. To his surprise, Maxi clasps his cheek and pulls him closer before he can pull away.
A familiar, burning feeling surged within him, and Riftan groaned into her mouth before gently pulling her close, afraid that he might hurt her. With her soft chest against his own hardened abdomen, Riftan cards his hand through her hair and tilts her head so he could kiss her better.
As fast as a hummingbird’s wings Riftan feels his arousal spike into its limit. It terrifies him how quickly and efficiently this woman can set him on fire even after all of these years, but now he was more than willing to dive headfirst into the flame. He has heard of the type of men who were born with an uncontrollable itch in their loins; womanizers, philanderers, rakes, and Riftan had never thought of himself as one of them until he finally got to have Maximilian. He could never get enough of her. If he could, he wanted to make her feel nothing but pleasure for the rest of her life. What set him apart is that he can only feel this way about one woman, which not a lot of men could relate to, and Riftan always wondered why that is. It took him a while to finally figure it out: whatever God out there made her too divine for any normal man to handle, and all the troubles and tribulations Riftan had gone through in his life was a way of making sure that he was worthy enough to have her. He was always meant to be hers.
It was a stupid, delusional theory, but it’s something that always resurfaced during times like these. He becomes so devoted to her he turns irrational. He feels hopeful for once in his life. He starts to believe in fate and God and destiny again, hoping and praying that it was all real.
Riftan had to pull away before things got too far. They sat there, panting, as he pushed his forehead against hers. The sweet wine she just drank sat on his tongue, and he desperately wanted more.
“We can’t… y-yet… The midwives told me…”
He groans, kissing her forehead. “Why must you torment me so?”
“I-I just missed you, is all…”
It was a much deeper statement than it seemed and Riftan had to vault himself off the bed in order to control himself.
He pretended to busy himself by stoking the waning fire, desperately trying to curb his arousal. They spent a few minutes in less than comfortable silence, both of them too near yet too far from each other. Riftan hated how he wanted to bury himself inside of her not even a day after she had gone through the tortuous process of giving birth. How dare he worry and fret over her safety and health when he himself wanted to unravel her? A hypocrite he was. He prayed for his self control.
“Are you and Rosetta still exchanging letters?” He says all of a sudden, trying to rewrite the jumbled thoughts in his brain.
“I’m surprised she wrote to you about the king’s business.”
“No, she told me in person months ago when we went to visit.” A month after she had confirmed her pregnancy, Riftan brought her along to Drachium. While he was meeting with the king, Maxi was allowed to tour the capital with Agnes and experience the royal family’s luxuries. Riftan was unaware that she spent a lot of time with her sister then. “She… She tells me a lot of things, to my surprise. She has good social skills and I am sure she must have some noblewomen as her friends, but I have an inkling that life in the capital is lonely.”
“I suppose a woman like her would have trouble finding people who are worthy to make her acquaintance.” Riftan says dryly as he remembered Rosetta’s pompous attitude.
“Hush now. Despite all of this, she is still a young woman. She had been a victim of my father’s cruelty as well.”
“I know. It must be difficult to have the living embodiment of Satan as a father.” He meant it to be a joke, but his voice seemed sharper than he liked.
Mentions of her past family almost made Riftan freeze up. The Duke of Croix had remained silent during Maxi’s pregnancy, and Riftan didn’t know how to keep it together if he made any attempt at contact. He was still Maximilian’s father by blood, and he had little say if the wretched man decided to meet their child. Not to say that Riftan wouldn’t try his best to keep him away though.
The sheets behind him rustle a little and Maxi is silent for a while.
“She said she will visit me.”
He is taken aback at the quiet, almost defeated tone of Maxi’s voice.
“Who will?”
“Rosetta.” Riftan turned around to see Maxi absentmindedly staring out the window. “She said she will visit me and the baby after I give birth.”
“Oh.”
“Do you… Do you think that means anything?”
Riftan can pick up the weak lilt in her voice. “Of course it means something.”
“What?”
“I… something , Maxi. I have not the slightest clue. I was an only child.”
She laughs a little, and Riftan feels a bit frustrated at the pain in her eyes.
“But she cares for you. That must be something .”
She is quiet for a while. Riftan doesn’t blame her if she doesn’t believe him. Rosetta Reuben had never given up that icy facade. It extended past her father and her sister, taking root within herself and those around her. Riftan supposes he does not blame her, for he was just as cynical as the young woman. He only hated it whenever she acted so cold to his wife, but he supposes there was little he could do. She was oddly fair and cordial despite her frostiness. But as a man who had an emotionally absent mother, Riftan couldn’t help but worry for Elias.
“I always thought she hated me.”
“I always thought she hated everybody.”
Maxi giggles again. “She most probably does. And I do not blame her. But I always thought she…”
Her voice falters. Riftan could see her gulp heavily.
“She does not hate you, Maxi.”
“I know.” She finishes quietly. “It took me a while to believe it. I suppose I did not want to believe it because I do not have the slightest clue how to fix our relationship if she did not hate me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It would be easier to hate each other. We would just refuse to see each other again.” Maxi says, running a hand over the soft mound in her belly. It wasn’t as big as it was since their son had evacuated, but the remnants of pregnancy were there. “But we do not hate each other. A part of me wants to believe that she wishes to build a relationship with me. I can see that she is reaching out, and she is… trying , even though she does it in her own sardonic little way. It is more painful this way. There is a wound between us that cannot heal overnight. I cannot help but think that there is a possibility that we could actually be proper sisters, and I am afraid of the terrifying possibility that even after all of this … it still won’t work out.”
Riftan reels at her genuine, rational fear. He didn’t know what to say, or worse, how to properly understand her. It was difficult if all a person had ever known about family was born out of duty. He had a duty to protect his stepfather, but Riftan did not want a relationship with him. Rosetta’s duties to her sister did not warrant a close relationship with her, but it seemed like they did not care. Maxi continues.
“What hurts the most, I think, is the fact that I did not reach out first.”
“You have suffered great pain.” Riftan feels his tone take on a sharp lilt. “You were not obligated to cultivate a relationship with your pampered sister.”
“But I am her elder sister, am I not? She is… she is family.”
“ I am your family.” He grabs her unmoving hand. He couldn't bear it when she blamed herself. “Our son is your family. Your sister and your father all have the capacity to betray you whenever. Rosetta might be a possible exception, yes, but you must see the constants here Maxi.”
“Which is?”
“Your husband will never hurt you. Your children will never hurt you. You have everything you need… right here.”
Maxi smiles, reaching out to cup his cheek. Her hand is soft against his own sharp cheek bone. He had lost some weight in the past months. Probably from stress.
“I don’t know. Giving birth is quite painful.”
“Perhaps we can make an exception.”
Then, they hear a knock on the door that pulls them out of their little bubble.
“My Lord, My Lady, I apologize for interrupting, but the baby needs to feed.”
Maxi’s eyes light up with excitement. Her happiness is infectious, and Riftan chastely kisses her on the cheek before going to open the door.
Two maids and two men entered the room. The men hauled in a heavy, wooden cradle with intricate carvings on the sides. Riftan ordered for them to place the cradle near the bed. They had a separate room for the baby, which will naturally morph into the child’s future room as he grows up, but they wanted to spend a lot of time with the newborn and both Riftan and Maxi agreed that they would sleep better if the baby was in the same room.
Speaking of, Rudis approached the bed with a smile, holding a wiggling bundle of cloth to her chest.
Riftan’s heart constricts for a moment when the maid reaches out to hand the baby to Maxi. His wife took the infant with grace, her face alight with wonderment.
He would never forget that look on her face. A look so pure and gentle and true. It was almost biblical, holy enough to be painted on a church’s ceiling. The first time Maxi held their son, Riftan saw a form of love so unfathomable manifesting itself in her features. He saw it again now, and he couldn’t wait to see it again and again in the years to come.
After they ushered the men out, Rudis and the maids gave Maxi some brief instructions before they too left the room.
Finally alone, Maxi pulls away the swaddle of blankets to finally reveal their son.
Riftan feels his heart make a weird leap. Kind of like when you drop from a great height.
Their son was a round, wrinkly, chubby little thing who made too much sound in comparison to his size. His skin was a soft brown, a shade or two lighter than Riftan’s, and he had Maxi’s lips. What was eye catching, however, was the thick tufts of black, spiky hair atop his head.
Maxi giggles as she gently sweeps her thumb over their son’s little forehead. “He has your hair.”
“It would have been cute as well if he had your hair.” He murmurs, sitting next to her spot on the bed in order to take a closer look at their baby. “The midwives told me he was bigger compared to regular babies.”
“I think it is a testament to his health and appetite. I mean, he must surely take from you.”
“I’m not sure if that is a good thing.”
“Of course it is.” Maxi says indignantly, raising her chin. “A strong son can only come from a strong father.”
His stomach flips a little at the pride that seeped in Maxi’s voice. It was a weird feeling. It made him want to smile and it’s like there were a horde of bees in his chest.
The baby made a soft sound, almost like an indignant whimper. He wailed endlessly earlier the moment he finally entered the world. They were quite glad that he seemed to calm down now.
“He must be hungry.” Riftan says, looking at Maxi coaxingly. She raises an eyebrow at him before, with a little help from Riftan, adjusting the baby more comfortably against her chest.
Maxi fixes her nightgown to reveal one pale breast before bringing it to the baby’s lips. The little one wasted no time before hungrily suckling at her nipple. Riftan smiles.
“Does it hurt?”
“It feels strange.” Maxi grimaces, before she gently sweeps a hand over the back of their baby’s head. “They said we should be careful of the soft spot on his head. It is rather sensitive.”
His voice is absentminded and hollow. “I suppose his whole body is sensitive.” Meanwhile Riftan’s body was not reacting properly. It was difficult to concentrate. Maxi had rounded out a little during her pregnancy. She looked plumper, healthier, and her chest had swollen to sizes Riftan could never dare to imagine. But there were other, less perverted things too. Her cheeks were slightly pink now and she was smiling , red hair splayed out on the large pillow behind her and she was holding his son to her exposed breast. It was all too much. He was hard again in an instant.
He was glad that he managed to conceal his urges better now, but the frequency and intensity stayed the same. Despite cursing himself internally he managed to stay cool and collected. The least he could do was to not be a damn bother.
“We should name this little one before it’s too late.”
Riftan feels like ice water was poured over his head. Right. They haven’t decided on a name. Months have passed and they never got down to making a final decision.
“What do you propose?”
“The last time we talked about it, y-you suggested Huxley.”
Riftan couldn’t conceal his grimace. “Did I?”
Maxi laughs. “I thought you were drunk.”
“Well, what else?” He asks, peering at his baby. The little one had his eyes closed as he hungrily suckled at Maxi’s breast. Riftan was slightly jealous. Not bothering to lament on his own psychosexual issues, he smiles at Maxi. “You said you were fond of the name Edmund.”
“Perhaps. But looking at our son, he does not look like an Edmund to me.”
“Now how could that be?”
“Because he looks like you.”
“Are you implying that I look like a baby?”
“No, Riftan.” She huffs, before gently pulling him closer by the arm. He settles right next to her, side by side and feeling each other’s heat, as she points a finger at their feeding child. “The way his brow is set is exactly like you. It is unmistakable. He is your son.”
She was right. The nose and his cheeks and the way he looked frustrated at the world were all from Riftan.
“He looks rather grumpy.”
Maxi smiles. “Like I said, he is your son.”
“I don’t understand your point.”
“What I mean is, since he looks like you, he should have a strong name like you. Riftan … it is a strong name.”
Riftan feels himself fall into silence, quite unsure of what to feel. He never considered his name as something that could be considered strong. He never really saw the point in placing strength within things that aren’t physical. Like religions, or names, or words… Riftan saw strength as something real. Something he can use to cut someone’s head off.
“Ruth told me you decided on your last name for yourself.”
Maxi was effective in pulling him out of his reverie. “Did he now.”
“Your name is not common, so I was curious.”
“Well, what did he tell you?”
“Nothing. He does not know why you chose your name, or what your real last name is. He just knows because he said, and I quote, ‘the dolt swung his sword while I did all of his paperwork’.”
He can almost imagine Ruth’s voice. “I cannot recall my real last name.” Riftan says, shifting himself so he can wrap an arm around her shoulder. She snuggles against his side, right where she belonged, while still being careful of their son. “Although I do remember why I chose Calypse.”
“Tell me.”
“Its origins are rather dull, I’m afraid.”
“ Tell me .”
To be honest, it takes some time to remember why he chose that name. He remembers being fourteen. He had just learned how to write the most basic of words and letters, and he was about to sign a contract to be a mercenary. He had written down Riftan , and his leader gave him a light smack on the head after he refused to write anything else - your last name, boy! What is your last name? - and there was little time, it was either he signed then or they would throw him to the streets, so he took a look at the steel strapped to his waist…
“It came from an ancient word. Chalybs. It means steel, or sword .”
“You named yourself after the word sword ?”
“I told you the story was dull.”
“It’s not , I just… I just wish to know why.”
“A family name signifies your family.” His voice is gruffer now. It was difficult to expose this part of himself. The young, orphaned boy who was left to defend himself against the horrors of the world began to resurface. Usually he kept that part of him buried six feet under, but it was hard to refuse Maximilian. “A family that was meant to feed you, protect you, and defend you. I had no such family.”
She was silent for a moment. Before she could say anything, Riftan continued despite the fact that his throat felt tight all of a sudden.
“The only thing that accomplished all of those things was my sword. The sword I wielded brought me to where I am now. It has fed me and protected me. Much like a family, I would be nowhere without it. Which is why, for the longest time, my sword has been the closest thing I had to a family.”
Silence continued to drape itself over them, with Maxi now looking up at him with a strange look on her face. When he looked right back at her, unsure of what expression he himself was giving off, Maxi looked away.
“And you say the story is dull…”
Riftan chuckles. “What do you think?”
“It is rather sad.” She admits, looking down at their son.
He squeezes her shoulder reassuringly as he placed a kiss on the top of her head.
“It does not matter. I have a family now, because of you …”
She smiles up at him, eyes oddly moist.
“It will be different for our son now.”
“Hm?”
“Your last name signified your sword, right? Because it protected you?”
“Yes.”
She yawns, eyes fluttering ever so slightly.
“For our son, it will mean you . It will mean his beloved father, who is a good and righteous man.”
Maybe it could be the way her voice had softened, or simply the terrifyingly genuine way she said those words, but Riftan felt his heart stop.
“His father… who will protect him, and teach him to be strong and good, and who will love him unconditionally. Just like he does to me.”
Maxi’s voice slows from sleepiness.
“No sword can come close.”
Swallowing heavily, Riftan gently unwinds his arm around her.
“We can think of a name in the morning. We should put him in the cradle now.”
“Already?”
“I think he has fed enough. Plus, you need to sleep.”
“Can I just hold him for a little while longer?” She pouts, before settling her eyes down to their baby. The little one’s mouth had slackened around Maxi’s breast and he looked like he was about to fall asleep as well.
Maxi smiles, despite her sleepiness, and gently brushes her finger against the baby’s soft cheek.
“Time flies when one is finally happy. Years will feel like minutes, and soon enough, he will grow to be an unrecognizable man.”
She bends down to place a gentle kiss on the baby’s forehead.
“Can we enjoy it while he is still a sweet little baby? While he still lets us hold him like this?”
It was an argument that was difficult to refuse.
The tightness in Riftan’s heart persisted. But it was a good tightness, like a bone crushing hug from a person you missed. Or the final sneeze before your sinuses cleared. He relented.
“Alright.”
He gently lifts her up, cradling her back and hooking his hand under her knees, before placing her on his lap. She barely had the time to react. Riftan adjusts himself before leaning against the mountain of pillows.
Before she could say anything, he placed her head against his chest.
“You can hold our baby and fall asleep this way. I will watch over you two.”
Maxi looks up at him with glistening eyes before craning her head to kiss his cheek.
They do not say anything further. They don’t need to. Maxi rested herself against him, relaxed and content, as she clutched their baby close. The night was dark but their future looked bright. He could only hope for the best.
Riftan finally finds the strength to look down, past Maxi’s closed eyes and calm demeanor, and towards his son.
His son’s eyes were slightly opened now, happy that he was fed, and the child looked right back at him.
His eyes were the color of a winter lake, contrasting beautifully with the darkness of his hair.
For the first time in his life, Riftan experienced a fear that was so unfathomable it shook him to his core.
In his very hands he carried his world. His entire reason for being. His family . Yet it was different now. Now, he has a child . Birthed from the woman who gave him the strength to continue on living. After properly seeing his son, realizing that he was real and that he was alive , Riftan felt sorry for himself. How could he deny himself the idea that he could be a father? How could he let fear and apprehension plant the thought that he could never have children? His son was beautiful and strong, and Riftan had no doubt that he would do everything in his power to be a father his child would be proud to have.
But then a new fear caught him by the throat, wrapped its fingers around his jugular and choked him until he had trouble breathing. Thoughts of war, death, and loss raced endlessly through his mind. Riftan wouldn’t know what to do if anything were to happen to them. What could he do if his son decided to be a warrior who was willing to die in battle? Or if they get targeted by enemies or assassins or traitors? Or if they catch the plague or what if the earth split in half and the floods come - What protection could Riftan give against the horrible inevitabilities of this world?
He jolts out of his terrifying visions when Maxi places a hand on his chest.
Her fingers gently splay against his beating heart, which was rapid and panicked. When he looked down, her eyes were still closed.
“Everything will be alright.”
It’s almost like she was infusing him with magic. Yet nothing was there, just her reassurance. And even with just that, it worked like a charm, and Riftan felt himself relax.
He fixes the swaddle on their son before pulling her closer against him. Closing his eyes, Riftan wills himself to believe her.