Adorable.
The only word I could think of every time I see my little angel. The mere sight of my newborn boy, Arthur, was so ambrosial that it made my heart brim with an unprecedented amount of love and adoration.
My life before was eventful. Every day was a new adventure. A life full of uncertainties yet so enjoyable. All because of the love of my life- Reynolds, and our adventuring party, Twin Horns.
Those days were pretty fun. And for a moment I thought I'd miss these days when me and Reynolds decided to stop adventuring and settle in Ashber.
But all of those worries vanished when I became pregnant with my first child. Like my whole world has changed. My thinking became clouded as all I ever cared and thought about was my unborn kid.
My vision became tunneled when the long-awaited arrival finally bore fruit and I finally birthed the little boy.
His birth wasn't short of complications. Both me and the maester couldn't find any trace of life just before the delivery. It was complicated and I couldn't help but just cry my heart out at the potential death of my first child before even coming to this world.
But when all hope was lost, it was like the baby was granted a new life, as I felt the little life, twisting and changing sides inside me. Tiny arms wailing all around in my inflated belly, struggling to come out.
A warm feeling spread through my chest as I felt him move inside me.
(A/n ISTG if Grey Vritra is reading it, do not comment. I know what you're thinking, Grey.)
The process was painful. Like multiple bones breaking, all at once. The pain was immeasurable, but the responsibility outweighed everything, as I pushed it... struggling to get it out of me.
My gaze remained plastered on the modest roof, sweat clinging onto my whole body.
"Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Leywin. It's a healthy boy."
Those were the words that changed my life forever.
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Arthur had to be the most adorable baby, and I'm not saying this because I'm a doting mother.
No.
Him and his scruffy little patch of glowing auburn hair and playful eyes, that almost radiate blue light while his gaze, at times, seemed almost... intelligent, astute.
His eyes almost seemed to be like assessing everything. Evaluating it. Maybe my boy is one-in-a-lifetime genius.
No no, I told you, I'm not a doting mother. I plan to be a strict and just mother. I can't rely on my husband to teach little Art any common sense. For God's sake, he tried to teach my baby how to fight when he could barely crawl.
Although I wonder if its normal that babies could start crawling so fast. From what I've heard and seen, babies start crawling at the age of 6-12 months. However, little Art accomplished it too early. It was like he knew how to do everything.
But I know this little rascal would never turn out like his father even if I left him be. He seemed too mature for his age. Forget his age, he seems more mature than Reynolds! His intelligent eyes observing me every time I feed him, scrutinizing me while I am in the kitchen- cooking food. Seeing Reynolds practice in the lawn.
As soon as he started crawling, I was so proud I was on the verge of shedding tears, but I didn't know how much of a handful he'd be as soon as he became mobile.
I swear, there's not a single moment where I can take my eyes off of him before he crawls into the study room. How weird. We made sure to buy him lots of stuffed animals and wooden toys to play with, but he always ends up going to the study room. THAT, at least was directly opposite of his father, seeing how Reynolds almost gravitates away from texts longer than the weekly newspaper.
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The next landmark that made it to my baby journal, which is purely for educational purposes, by the way, and not because I am a doting mother, was when he first said mama.
He said Mama!
I told him to say "mama" again and again, just to make sure I didn't hear wrong.
Haha, I won!
However, A certain event happened, including me and Reynolds arguing. He claimed that Art called him Dad at the same time he called me mama. After arguing for a good hour, we turned to Art and asked him,
"Art. Whose name did you learned first?" Reynolds asked, putting the little baby on the pedestal.
Art looked to the side and... sighed?
Can kids his age sigh?
He looked at Reynolds once and then at me as he gave an awkward, almost forced smile, "Mama", he said.
A veil of melancholy loomed over Reynolds as he sulked, his arms dangling downwards.
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A few strange things crossed my mind today.
Art was the most adorable kid I had ever seen in my life. However, despite those cute looks and seemingly naturally talented, he always seemed to be struggling.
Seeing him read books in a corner and watching the subtle surprise over his chubby face was refreshing, but his behavior around people was always awkward. Like trying his best to blend in, but always failing in it.
Maybe I am thinking too much, but it seems like he has a trouble handling his emotions. Call it a mother's intuition or something else, I could feel it. From his monotone voice to him showing little to no expression even when the pile of books fell over him to his stoic face.
I hope he doesn't have troubles making friends.
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Today entry in my little diary is something I can't believe even when I've seen it with my own eyes.
My baby...
He already awakened... at the age of three no less.
Although out house is completely gone....
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Today we decided to take Art to the Floating City of Xyrus, where we could get a mentor that could groom his natural talents to new heights.
However, I can't shake of this uncomfortable feeling. The premonition of an imminent danger or disaster.
My hand travelled to my belly as I rubbed it and stroked Arthur's hair at the same time.
I just hope nothing goes wrong.
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Just as the spell of water whistled past me after being pushed by Arthur, my vision blacked out just for a split second. By the time I looked back at Arthur, I saw his hair standing and tendrils of lightning popping everywhere. The corpse of the mage that conjured the spell from before was on ground--lifeless--burnt and electrocuted to death.
I didn't care about him.
I looked at Arthur who was looking in my direction.
Behind his mask of stoic expression and apathy, I saw a felt a glimmer of warmth from him.
From the day, I birthed him, I denied the fact that he never looked at me the way a child should see. Maybe it was because he was born without the ability to properly comprehend emotions. But in that small moment I saw him--the last moments--I saw a recognition. A recognition for me. Like he had finally accepted me. And the subtle softening of his expression.
For the first time...
It wasn't forced...
And with that, he fell down the hill and I never saw or heard from him again...
My baby...
He's gone...
Forever... and I failed as a mother.
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The loss of Arthur had left a gaping hole in my entire being. Even the birth of second child... Eleanor, hasn't been able to fill that gap. I love Eleanor with all my heart but... I can't just forget Arthur.
The way he cared for me when I got pregnant without even me realizing. He cared for me despite being at an age he needed care the most.
I can never forgive myself.
He was dead because of me...
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"Elenoir Leywin. How many times--" My words got caught in my throat and the bowl in my hand fell to the ground followed by a loud clatter as it bounced.
The unmistakable vibrant Auburn hair that fell down just above his glistening sapphire blue eyes. His hair was cut in shape of curtains. His eyes were as stern as ever, maturity beaming from him.
It was him...
My baby, Arthur.
He looked down at Elenoir and placed a hand over her head. His expression was the same as the time he arrived here, but it softened.
It seemed forced... like he was trying to show he was happy seeing me.
But he was trying. It was a start. But most of all he was alive. Alive and breathing, right in front of me. And that was all that mattered. His hand left Eleanor's head as he slowly walked over to me. Slowly, one step at a time.
My heart pounded in my chest--clobbering at its ribcage. I was scared, scared that this was all my mind playing tricks on me.
Petrified I stood there, waiting for him to do something... anything at all. Tell me it wasn't a dream. That it wasn't a hallucination.
And then his small arms wrapped around my waist. I could feel the warmth emanating from him.
He was real...
I wasn't dreaming.
My son.... He's alive.
I fell on my knees and buried my face in his little shoulder. Light-hearted tears of joy cascaded down my cheeks as I held on to his small frame. Scared he might wither away... disappear... scared that I would lose him... again!
He placed a hand over my back and the other at my head, slightly patting it, "I'm home", he whispered as the tears I didn't even knew I was holding back came rushing from eyes. Despite being the older one here, he was the one consoling me.
It really is him.
My son... he's back from the dead.
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(A/n Alright, that wraps it. An interlude was needed, and I didn't want to write a whole emotional reunion chapter so instead I wrote this. Also, if you're wondering why she didn't know Arthur was alive... that was because Rinia never met him. Why? Find out later)
Also I'd be grateful if you could leave honest reviews. Thanks
(E/n Pretty uneventful though -__- )