(no subject)

[calledmegentle]

The King of Narnia is heading home from a battle when his daughter is brought into the world.

He had been so good about staying close to home, as his wife had gotten closer to the time when Rilian and Errian were to enter the world. And they had both believed that this trip away, this close to their third child's birth, would be a brief one. Neither of them had anticipated he would have gotten caught up in a battle with dark creatures that had crept their way into Narnia. Neither of them had thought he'd be forced to stay away for two weeks to ensure the danger had passed.

Neither of them had thought she was quite so close to the her due date that he was so entirely at risk of being able to be there for her as he had for their previous children.

But the world, apparently, had gone pear-shaped for this particular span of time. He's at least close enough that a fast-flying griffin is able to come to the front, tell the king the queen is giving birth and that things don't look good for her or the baby. He won't get there in time to welcome the child.

But he'll get there. And, when he undoubtedly bursts through the door, he'll be relieved to see that-- at least for the moment-- both Queen and babe are alive, if not quite entirely well yet.

Susan, sweat-slicked and paler than she's ever been, can barely force her eyes open to see who slammed the door wide with such force. Still somehow manages to call a smile to her face at the sight of him.

"Caspian. We-- we have a-- a daughter."

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[navixator]

There had been no question with Rilian. There had been very little debate with Errian. There had been a very careful sort conversation about this third pregnancy, and there had been a very gentle assurance from the Queen that they were in no danger of him breaking their pattern.

There was no question, of course, that he stay with his troops when the threat was realized. There was no question that he pull himself fully into role of King rather than husband and expectant father.

It didn't stop the anger, panic and dread when the news arrived. It didn't stop him, the moment he was able, from setting off almost entirely on his own to ride hard through day and night back to the Cair.

He should be quiet, he knows. He should be gentle when he returns to see his wife and their third child. He can't stop himself, battle-rough and heart battering itself, from throwing open the door and scrambling to close this last bit of distance to be at last at Susan's side again.

"Susan--"

Other words are choked completely from his throat. He can't get anything else out around the need to clutch her hand tight and prove to himself that she's alive. She's breathing. Her heart is beating beneath her wrist while he held her hand and arm tight in his own.

She's alive. And they have a daughter.