Prologue
The king of the summer faeries paced anxiously outside the richly embroidered gold door. Agitation clawed its way into his heart, deepening the lines marring his face. The screams that currently echoed from the room inside did nothing to soothe his worried posture. The cottage was empty and that only helped magnify the sound and lead it directly to his ringing ears. He was sure if this went on much longer he was going to have to go inside no matter how much he'd been warned not to.
It felt like ages when the screaming finally stopped and turned into a soft whimper and then vanished completely. He curled his hands into tight fists to prevent himself from intervening. Seconds later the door clicked open, and footsteps approached his way. He glanced straight ahead and found himself looking upon the face of Ilona — the midwife.
"Y-Your majesty." She stumbled with her words as she awkwardly bent her knees to bow at him.
Throwing a curt nod for her action, he cut right to the chase. "Is Azrael okay?"
"Yes your majesty." Her hands fell limply to her sides as she gulped nervously.
"Do you think it'd be okay if I went in to see her now?" He questions, his mind wandering to their earlier conversation, when she'd told him to leave because she had subtly stated that it would be rather....uncomfortable for her to give birth in front of him. He'd disagreed of course, but he knew he would never win an argument with the stubborn woman.
"Yes. I think so." Ilona says, bringing him out of his reverie, and then upon realizing what she'd forgotten to say, adds, "Your majesty."
Heaving a sigh, he gives her an uneasy smile, not satisfied by her answer. Then he orders. "Wait right here. If you hear anything, you are to report to me immediately. Understand?"
"Yes your majesty." She yet again gives him a clumsy bow and he stares at her bemused. Oh for god's sake, he wasn't some sort of monster she should be afraid of. But judging by the stance at which she currently held herself, he realized she'd never understand that.
He dismisses her thoroughly, and turns his attention back to the door. He takes a few steps ahead, and grabs the door knob, but quickly retraces his hand. Jesus. Where were his manners?
So he knocks cautiously, the sound shrill and demanding. Alright. He’d most definitely not meant to knock that hard.
“Come in.” A voice bellows out softly, and enthralled, he steps inside, closing the door behind him.
“Um…. Dune?” A surprised Azrael comes into his view and he, confused at her confusion, furrows his eyebrows.
“Why do you sound so surprised?” He questions, giving her a dubious look.
“It’s just I-I expected you to leave leave when I told y-you to leave, not just leave.” She fumbles with her words, a rosy hue dotting her cheeks.
He gives her an amused look. She looks at him shyly through her lashes. “I’m not making any sense, am I?”
“U-Um…” He trails off, and the sound of a gentle coo interrupts his uncertainty towards the situation. He lets out a sigh of relief.
She turns her attention away from him to the pink bundle in her arms.
"Saved by the baby, it seems?" She grins playfully as she turns her gaze back to him.
For a moment, he's at loss as he stares at her dumbfounded.
Clearing his throat awkwardly, he watches as she gives him a secretive smile and gently rocks the baby back and forth, her face flashing into one of her rare smiles—the kind of smile that causes him to fall in love with her all over again.
