Chapter 10

Adrien's POV

Elation and fear raced through my veins in equal proportions, making me hot and cold at the same time. Freya looked up at me lovingly, her bright blue eyes showed her ease in the situation and her trust in me. So I let that feeling wash over me and spur me into action.

I sent a telepathic message to the whole of the palace immediately. Yes, that was one of my abilities.

"The Queen is in labor! Prepare for the birthing."

Everything was already in place because I wanted the birthing to go really smoothly, everyone just had to go to their stations.

Then I lifted my wife into my arms, bridal style. She clung to me, gritting her teeth and breathing slowly to ease the first of the contractions. Would I be able to watch her go through this pain? I took a calming breath, I had to try.

I envisioned the birthing room, which was actually one of the numerous bedrooms in the east wing of the palace, and stepped into it. Teleportation; the ultimate ability for a demon and the one I thought was the best.

The midwives were already present and everyone was ready. Of course, they would be, No one dared to defy me.

I carefully placed Freya on the soft bedding, it had numerous sheets and the midwives went to work immediately. Tearing her skirts off her body and cladding her in a different gown.

The midwives tried to make me leave the room as was customary, but I was having a hard time leaving Freya. Hesitantly, I dropped a parting kiss on her head and made to leave the room. "I'll be just outside the whole time, Love." I assured in her mind.

Ishmael was outside the door already, waiting. "How is she?" He inquired immediately when he saw me.

"The birthing has just started, brother. Hopefully, it will not be a tough one." I answered and sat on one of the corridor chairs.

Sitting beside me as well, he slapped a palm to my shoulder reassuringly. "She will be fine. Freya is a strong woman, this will be a trial she passes effortlessly."

I really really hoped so, the birthing process was a strenuous one and it wasn't uncommon for women to lose their lives to it. I had seen a lot of lives lost in my lifetime, but death didn't mean as much to me as it did in this moment. Freya and my child had to live and there was no consideration for any other outcome.

The hours passed and Freya's screams started. My whole world shrank to this room. Her screams were haunting and echoed over and over again in my ears even when she paused. I sat rigidly in my chair, knowing I was powerless in this situation.

I gripped the armrests of my chair forcefully, till they snapped and broke. My veins stood out on my arms as I struggled to stop myself from destroying everything in sight. Trying to contain my frustration at my uselessness was fruitless.

Thunder boomed loudly, accompanied by lightning outside the palace. The weather, a testament to my feelings. The earth also rumbled underneath our feet and I could feel my unease permeating the air.

Ishmael looked at me with pity and understanding. The tense line of his lips showed that he felt useless as well. "You're not doing her any good, dear friend." He said quietly.

I pushed my feelings to the side. He was correct and I didn't intend to make things any harder for Freya so I forced them away.

For more hours we waited, the ticking of time punctuated by Freya's cries and obvious pain.

It was only until the pitch black skies shifted into lighter hues of gray did her cries come to a stop, followed by the loud wailing of an infant. The skies transformed into a myriad of colors, dawning a new day in my life and just like that, all of the earlier tension eased from my body, making me feel lighter and new.

Ishmael was smiling, the tension of the past hours leaving him as well. We looked at each other and burst into happy laughter. The long night was finally over.

I stood from the remnants of my chair, dusting bits and pieces of wood from my clothing. Customarily, I was to wait until a midwife would grant us attendance, but they were taking too long. I wanted to see my wife and child right now.

Just as my hand was to touch the doorknob, the door swung inwards, being pulled from within. I stepped in, eager to see my family and the head midwife was the first person I saw.

"I present to Your Majesty, the prince!" she announced and placed a little creature in my arms. All of the servants and midwives, including herself then fell to their knees, bowing to the floor after her announcement.

"You may rise." I said offhandedly and stared at the little infant, unsure of what to do. Its pale little face slowly scrunched up and then it let loose high screams. I was amazed at how the noise from this tiny thing could reach such high peaks. I stared in wonder, confused about what to do next.

"Your Grace, perhaps it is time to give him to the nursemaid." The midwife said to me.

I wasn't paying any attention to her, instead, I continued to stare at the child, and the joy of holding my newborn swelled in me. A profound moment of pure happiness.

However, as the baby's cries echoed in the room, my elation gave way to a sudden concern for Freya.

The room felt charged with anticipation as I turned my attention to Freya on the bed, eager to see how she was faring, and her eyes were closed in a death-like sleep. Only then did I notice that the room reeked of blood? She was laid on bloodied sheets and looked too pale to be healthy.

I immediately dropped the wailing infant in the midwife's arms and rushed to Freya's side, fear wrapping a vice around my heart.

"What has happened to the Queen?" I thundered, and all activity in the room ceased, the noise replaced by a tense silence. Everyone paused and even the screaming child quieted down. The servants tending to Freya moved back in fear also.

"Why is my wife not moving?" I inquired again, my voice cracking. The smell of blood left a foul taste in my mouth, getting me even more agitated.

Ishmael hurried into the room then, coming to the side of the bed and examining Freya.

The head midwife fell to all fours in front of me. "The queen is fine, Your Grace." she said with a shaky voice. I could smell the fear leaking from her, from all of them.

"Then. Why. Is. She. Not. Moving?" I growled in a strained voice.

"The birth was very tasking on her body, Your Grace. The Queen needs time and proper care to heal." I felt a little bit of pity for her.

"She's breathing, brother. Let us give her the time she needs to recover." Ishmael added reassuringly.

I nodded stiffly and flicked a hand to indicate they could continue with their activities. Then Ishmael and I left the room to give them space to finish cleaning everything.

"So, I'm an uncle now. Never thought I would see the day." He chuckled, making me chuckle as well. We both looked terrible, evidence of the hard night.

"I'm about to be very busy," he continued "teaching him to be cool and popular among the ladies like his uncle, not boring and unwanted like his father." He sent me side-eye and flipped a lock of hair behind his ear.

"You will do no such thing," I warned, not that Ishmael would listen. "and I am quite popular, just so you know."

"It sounds like you're making up facts. I'll have my hands full dealing with the lot of you." His words ended on a wide yawn. "Goodbye now, boring dad. I've got to catch up on my sleep."

"Ishmael." I growled threateningly, which he ignored. He just whistled as he walked away, leaving me to myself in front of the room. I smiled and retook my seat, today I finally felt like a man.

I continually sat in front of the room, with the servants coming and going. It took hours but I waited, hesitant to leave my spot and after what seemed like many hours, but was probably just a few, they were done.

I entered the room again. This time, Freya had been totally cleaned up and dressed in clean clothes. She still looked pale and was still unconscious but with the clean clothes and clean bedding, she looked much better. Even pale and unhealthy, she still looked like perfection to me.

The windows were opened and the room smelled fresh, a vast difference to the smell occupying the room previously.

Ana was bent over my wife, fluffing up the pillows underneath her head and adding little touches touches to get her more comfortable.

I sat in the bedside chair and stared at Freya, willing her to open her eyes. I could not wait for her to open her eyes.

The head midwife from earlier brought my son. He too was different and he had a satisfied smile on his baby face. She gave him to me and left. Ana left as well, and I was alone with my wife and newborn child.

I stared at my son, he was so little and looked very vulnerable in my big arms. Wisps of black hair covered his tiny head and eyes whose colour I was unsure of yet stared back at me. His life could be easily snuffed out in a second and the thought made me overly protective. This was everything I wanted and I would be damned before letting anyone or anything take it from me.

"Now, we just have to wait for your mother to wake up, little prince." I mumbled to the already dozing child.

"I told you it would be a boy." Freya whispered tiredly from the bed.

I jerked sharply at the sound of her voice, joy exploding in my heart. I gently held the infant close to me and bent over Freya, kissing her forehead.

"It is so good to see you're fine, Snow." I said, whispering. "You've done so well, my love. He is perfect."

She smiled at my words. It was a tired smile.

"So so tired, Adrien." She moaned weakly.

"I know, my love. Go ahead and rest up, we'll be here when you wake."

Then she drifted off to sleep. Her long lashes fluttering shut over her weary blue eyes.

"We'll be here." I whispered into the quiet room.

Gently cradling our newborn, I stood and stole one more glance at Freya. A sense of gratitude and love enveloping me.

"We'll be here for you always." I vowed to myself quietly.

********

The days slowly rolled by and Freya slept, her eyelids refusing to let me gaze at her blue depths. One day became two and two became four. Soon, a week had gone by and still she slept.

I gave most of my attention to the child, he wasn't named yet. I was waiting for Freya to wake up first, she had to name our child herself. It had to be her.

I continued with my usual activities as well, refusing to be gloomy. Her sleep was a healing one as she obviously looked better day after day. The color returned to her skin and her white hair gleamed a sharper hue. She looked like she was just taking a nap most of the time and it was hard to believe that she had been asleep for such a long period of time already.

Another week passed with Freya still unconscious and I was heading for our quarterly council meeting with Ishmael towing along. We were discussing and he was in the middle of a sentence when the telepathic message came.

I paused, my surprise halting my steps and the message, not quite registering yet. After walking a few steps ahead, Ishmael noticed I wasn't beside him and he turned to check.

"Freya is awake." I said in amazement, the gravity of my words finally sinking in. Everything suddenly seemed brighter, the air seemed fresher and it felt like I was looking on with a new pair of eyes. I had been dead on the inside and this! this was breathing new life into me.

Ishmael's face brightened with a surprised smile. "Go to her, I'll handle the warlords." Now that I looked closely, he had tired lines around his eyes too. This had taken a toll on all of us. Thankfully, our cause for worry was finally over.

Being King should come first but I could think of nothing else at this moment. It was Freya that came first.

I gave a sharp nod to his words and while he continued his walk to the council hall, I envisioned Freya's makeshift infirmary and stepped in, eagerness in my steps.