Surrender

Life

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He watched the girl become limp and unresponsive in his arms. He had to get a healer before it was too late and the poison diffused into her blood. Carefully he lifted her and headed for the chambers he had built years ago. The ones no one was aware of except himself and the healers. He couldn't treat her here while her enemies lurked and wished to end her.

******

She looked unnatural as she lay on the furs, her large stomach at odds with her slim limbs. The healer examined her and gave him a worried look

'What is it?'

'In the condition she is, her body is weak and unstable. It will be hard to extract the poison from her. We are fortunate she consumed only a mouthful, anymore and she would have been dea --'

'--Stop it! Don't utter such things'

He prepared the clay in a bowl and fed her the substance, several times she twisted away and refused but he made sure she had consumed all of it. The clay ensured the poison was trapped and that it wouldn't spread into her blood.

'Has it taken affect?'

'We have another predicament ..'

*****
Afsana's POV

The fur wraps me in a comfortable and warm embrace. The pain is present still, unpleasant and eating at my stomach. Reaching out I don't feel the usual swell. My heart lurches, where is my child? The tears as they fall are hot and heavy. Because of the poison he was no longer alive

'I've come to the conclusion that you cry at every stage of life'

I was so consumed in my grief I didn't pay heed to him, it was worse than the pain the poison had brought, far severe than anything I had ever experienced.

'Afsana it has passed don't cry over it'

He didn't understand, he had never understood, it didn't mean anything to him, to loose something that didn't exist in the first place. He had cared for me always, but never for something that was his, his own blood he had rejected.

'The way you cry suggests you have lost something. You haven't lost anything'

I would open my eyes and tell him exactly how heartless I thought he was. With that firm resolution I sat up, ignored the pain,ready to unleash my rage upon him.

My anger melted away. He sat on his knees and cradled a wrapped up bundle in his arms. The bundled up cloth moved and two legs kicked up in a jagged motion, a single tiny foot peeked out of the blankets. I couldn't speak, watching dazed as he leaned down and kissed it ever so lightly. I had never seen Ziraar act in such a tender manner. His smile was wide and genuine, free of the usual arrogance and sarcasm.

It was several long moments after I figured out how to speak again
'--Is that--'

'--your son'

'Oh'

He reached out and pushed me back unto the furs
'Rest'

'I want to see him'

He carefully set him down besides me. Two curious, dark eyes peered at me, a contrast to his white complexion. I stretched out a single finger and his tiny fist clenched around it. The shock left me trembling. I knew his hair would be  just as dark under the miniature turban wrapped around his head. I had never seen anything more beautiful than him and I had never loved anything with such intensity.

My voice was choked up with emotion 'He looks like you Ziraar'

I smoothed over the turban
'And you are already trying to make him Pukhtun'

He laughed 'I am only making him realize what he is'

I couldn't keep my eyes off the precious child.

'I want to name him Turan--'

'Sikkandar'

He scoffed 'the savior of mankind? What a name Afsana..' His words were heavy with sarcasm

But I was determined he would be a savior, it was only fitting when his father was a destroyer.

'It doesn't agree with me, I refuse to call my son a Persian name'

'If you truly care for me you will name him Sikkandar'

I could see the struggle in his eyes, I was certain he would not agree, he possibly couldn't care that much for me

'Sikkandar it is then. I will learn to accept it'