Bound for trouble from the start
I've been walking through this old world in the dark
The anxiety within him builds as each day creeps closer to her due date. The day comes… And passes with nothing to show for it. He worries deeply, trying to hide his anxious gaze when she looks to him. Hoping that both she and the child (children?) are ok, that nothing has gone wrong. She is so good at hiding things from him, so stoic when the pain started that he hadn’t even realized. Little winces here and there, shifting of her body. Stating she was uncomfortable in her own skin. Of course he was oblivious that the birth was beginning, that it could take time.
When she finally submits to the process, he is caught off guard. Before he had simply kept a wary watch over her. Letting her go through her private trial, not knowing where it was appropriate for him to be. This time he is by her side throughout the whole process. When the due date had passed, he refused to leave her. Not wanting to miss when it happened, wanting to support her and be as available as she needed.
They are back in the cave, the same cave where Smoak had been born. It’s so different this time. He curls against her, supporting her straining and sweat slicked body with his own. Lips pressing against the nape of her neck, encouraging kisses when she seems to falter or struggle between contractions. He doesn’t speak, speechless with his worry. This time it’s longer than before. The foal doesn’t come easy. His expression is dark with concern, no longer able to hide it. Perhaps he needed to get help, someone who knew what she needed.
It’s the coming of dawn that brings the first foal out. He is as breathless as she as she clenches her teeth and pushes the child out. His good eye watching with amazement. As she instinctively reaches for the foal and frees him from the sac, begins to clean it. A boy. A beautiful boy that carries the same wings as his mother but also resembles him. A perfect representation of them both. Before she can finish cleaning, she suddenly pulls back and groans softly. There is panic in her voice and he presses his muzzle to her belly, unsure of what to do. The solution is nothing, another child slipping free from within her. She had been right, there were two. Always two.
This one is a girl, who also has beautiful wings. Buckskin. Like Magnus. For a moment they are both suddenly lost in a flood of painful memories, mother and father. She grieves for a child lost that he does not know, he grieves for the father he longs for and despises. He wonders for a moment if she can see it too, the resemblance. If that was what Ellyse would think of every time she looked to her daughter. When the hazel eyes of both children look to him, it doesn’t matter anymore. They are his. His.
Joplin & Joaquin. Perfect, unique. Just like them. An eccentric little family. A slow exhale escapes him, relief flooding through him quickly followed by a swelling of pride and joy. Lovingly he pushes the drenched tendrils of forelock back from Ellyse’s face, pressing a kiss to her forehead. ”I'm so proud of you.” He murmurs huskily, meaning every word. She was the strongest woman, strongest person, he had ever met. ”No one has ever made me as happy as you, I love you.” Brushing against her cheek with a soft caress, protective already of his beautiful perfect family. His good eye can not be torn away from them, his children. Wondering what they thought of him, if they were frightened by the empty socket and savage claw marks. If they could sense his subliminal fear that he might fail as a father, fail them all.
Ledger