#king maxon

Luckily for him, he was not in his office. When America did finally find her husband, she felt silly for not checking the nursery first.

Maxon was sitting by the window, a bundle of blankets held snugly against his chest. Ahren was fast asleep in his crib and America reached a hand down, taking his smaller hand in hers. She made sure her movements were slow and gentle so she wouldn’t wake him. Though it was dark, she could have sworn she saw a smile cross his tiny little mouth.

“He’s got your smile.” She whispered, startling her husband out of his trance.

“My dear, what are you doing up?” He stood quickly, but his movements woke the infant in his arms. Little Eadlyn started to cry, which of course, elicited the wails of her twin brother as well. Maxon grimaced. “I’d finally gotten her to sleep.”

“Sorry.” America giggled, quickly scooping her son up in her arms. “There, it’s alright.”

“You were so peaceful a second ago, Eady.” Maxon groaned, lightly bouncing the screaming child in his arms. America smiled.

“She’s a fighter. I can tell.”

“Well, she is your daughter.” He gave her a smirk and sat back down, gently soothing Eadlyn back to sleep. America was successful with Ahren as well and took the chair across from Maxon. He gave her a stern look. “You just gave birth to twins, America. You should be in bed, getting your rest.”

“I’ve been in bed for two days now. I want to be here with you. Besides, it seems like you could use the help.” She snickered.

“I was managing.”

The two didn’t speak for a while. They listened to the slow breaths of their sleeping children and stared out at the night sky. Despite her efforts, America’s exhaustion got the better of her. She fell asleep with Ahren’s head against her chest, his little hands clasped around loose strands of her fiery hair. It was a brief, beautiful moment of peace.

Maxon soon felt the panic seize his chest. Suddenly the weight of the child in his arms was the weight of something else entirely. Something he couldn’t escape. He stood, slower this time so that he wouldn’t wake Eadlyn, and laid her in her crib. He ran a finger across the soft, delicate skin of her cheek. Even now, she looked like an echo of his mother.

There was still that familiar ache in his heart. An ache that had healed some with time, but he knew would linger in him for the rest of his life. His mother was gone. Her gentle heart and her loving gaze was lost forever. With thoughts of Amberly came thoughts of his father. Maxon winced as painful memories invaded his peace.

“Sleep well, my dear.” He whispered, kissing America gently on the forehead before escaping into his own personal panic.

-

She woke only an hour or so later, finding Maxon gone and Ahren’s tiny, fat fingers tangled in her hair. He was sleeping like a rock, so she was able to put him back in his cradle without waking him. Fighting through her fatigue, she once again roamed the dark hallways of the palace, but this time, something was driving her to one place. Call it instinct or a wife’s intuition, but she knew something was wrong and she knew exactly where to find him.

The last time they’d been up here was on their anniversary. Maxon had arranged for a very romantic roof-top picnic, followed by a sweet dance beneath the sunset. Now, America knew that this would be his safe place.

When she first opened the door, the roof appeared empty. She turned her head a slight shuffling sound, finding Maxon sitting with his back against the wall, hands resting in his lap. His gaze was distant, focused on something beyond the walls of the roof. His eyes- while still holding that slight glimmer of light that America had come to love- were filled with tears.

“Maxon, what’s wrong?” Again, her voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“You’re supposed to be resting. It’s too cold-”

“Don’t avoid my question.” She said sternly. Maxon sighed.

“Nothing you need to worry about. Now, will you please go back inside and get some sleep?” America simply put her hands firmly on her hips, narrowing her eyes at him. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head at her stubbornness. “Very well. Come here.” He opened his arms and she settled into his lap, laying her head against his chest.

“Something is bothering you.” She said, pressing a small kiss to the edge of his jaw. “And don’t tell me it’s not my concern. I just birthed your children, so I think we’re past the brooding-in-silence stage.”

“Yes,” He laughed, “I suppose we are.” She poked his chest playfully.

“So spill, Schreave.”

His face fell and the playfulness of the moment quickly faded. His eyes became distant again, but this time, America could really see what was in them: Fear. Maxon was completely and utterly terrified.

“Maxon?”

“What if I can’t do this?” He looked at her, eyes wide and desperate.

“What are you talking about?”

“What if I can’t be a father? I don’t know the first thing about fatherhood! I can address an entire country, but what if I don’t know what to say when Eadlyn cries? Or when Ahren asks me some important, life-altering question?”

“I don’t think he’s going to have any of those.” America smiled. “At least, not for a while.”

He paused for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice cracked slightly, revealing the true source of his fear.

“What if I’m…” He gulped, a tear just barely escaping down his cheek. “What if I’m like him?”

“What?” America’s heart broke seeing him like this. The fact that he could doubt himself made her ache.

“My father. The crown and the power corrupted him and made him hateful and impossible and violent. What if it does that to me? What if I’m a no better father than he was?” His voice was shaking and America pulled him into her arms as his hid his face in the crook of her neck. He wrapped his arms around her, clinging to her as he cried a little harder now. “I don’t want to be him, America. I don’t want our children to be afraid of me.”

“Oh, Maxon, they aren’t going to be afraid of you. And you don’t have anything to be afraid of.” She pulled away so she could look upon his face. “You are not, and you will never be, anything like that man. You are kind and loving and brave and so many things he never was. I’ve seen the way you are with Kile and he isn’t even your son. Watching you with Eadlyn and Ahren now…” She ran her fingers through his blonde hair, messy from hours of excitement and stress. “It has made me love you even more.” She pulled his lips to hers for a kiss of assurance, comfort, and a reminder of who he really is.