#theprofessionalpromptmaker

So today's my beloved partner's birthday! He wanted a sona for himself that wasn't related to any of his ocs and still reflected his vibe, I didn't have much time to work on different designs before his birthday was actually here but... yeah

Now below the cut there's something for @theprofessionalpromptmaker:

WARNING: There are mentions of death/a dead body, blood, scars and child birth. If any of the above listed things makes you uncomfortable I kindly suggest that you turn away now. If you choose to read do so at your own discretion. I’m sorry but I won’t be taking responsibility for anyone who ha been triggered by anything written in this piece as I’ve given more than enough warning. Thanks for reading ~ Cookie🍪 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A king hastily marched down the corridors of his castle. He was about to miss something of extreme importance. As the thought weighed on his mind, his pace began to quicken. Quickly shifting from a speed walk, to a light jog. Eventually he broke out into a full sprint, thundering down the castle halls as he searched desperately for the room his wife and their future child were being kept in. His heart began racing at the prospect of arriving too late when suddenly he heard a woman’s scream echo throughout the grand building. The shrill sound was carried down the hallway and like a bucket of cold water dumped on his head, it washed over him. This seemed to revitalise the king and he began running with a new fervour. His heavy boots hit the marble floors with loud thuds, matching the pace of his beating heart. He felt as the sweat began to roll down the smooth skin of his temple but he dared not pause to wipe it, instead continuing to run. His sword clanged loudly at his side as the metal of his boots collided with the scabbard every time he took a step. He’d just returned from battle and had hoped to celebrate the kingdom’s victory with his wife and their citizens. However, his plans were thwarted, for as soon as he entered through the grand doors of his home, dripping with sweat and stained in the blood of his enemies, a servant sidled up to him. The tall and lanky man leaned into the king’s ear to whisper the news to him. The news of his wife’s early labour. It seemed the stress of knowing her husband may not come back home had severely affected her, stressing her and coincidentally sending her into premature labour. The king, wasting no time, thanked the servant for the information before starting off towards the room they’d made prior plans to have the birth in. It was close to the back of the castle, away from listening ears and prying eyes. It was a small, dimly lit room with a single bed and a large table at the foot of the bed. The proximity to the castle’s wrap around moat meant there was an abundance of cool air in the room, meaning the need not worry about the queen overheating. As the king reminisced about this, he found himself in a familiar corridor. There was a second scream, much louder than the first, coming from the room at the end of the passage. The king’s brows raised and a smile found its way onto his bearded face, crinkling the corners of his almond shaped eyes and scrunching his slim nose. This was how his wife saw him in her final hours. For as soon as the king burst through the door of the delivery room and made his way over to his wife, she gazed up at him with glossy eyes and a sweet smile. As if she knew what was soon to occur. “Sirius…” The queen’s soft voice called out to the king, flowing along the curve of her slender arms as she reached up to cup his cheeks. Her eyes roved his face lovingly, her fingers stroking the grooves and wrinkles that rested there from aging. Her thumb traced over his lips and the scar that ran through his brow, over his right eye and down to his right cheek. The same scar he’d received in a previous battle that ended up partially blinding him. The king’s hands came up to rest gently atop his queen’s, the smile that illuminated his still handsome face never once faltering. This urged the queen to give him another smile of her own. A melancholy smile that spoke of unforeseen horror. The king, in a daze of happiness, mistook this as a smile of reassurance and simply closed his eyes and leaned into his lover’s touch. The sweet moment was broken when the queen suddenly furrowed her brows, grey eyes narrowing in pain. The lines adorning her forehead spoke volumes of her struggle, causing the king to grasp her hands tighter in his. The queen lowered her gaze to the blonde haired midwife at the foot of the bed and bit her lip, preparing herself to bring their baby into the world. The birth was short, with less screaming than before it began. It seemed the contractions were worse than the actual birthing process in this case. As the queen gave one final push, she squeezed the king’s hands tightly, prompting him to lean closer to her and place gentle, loving kisses atop her head. At the end of her struggle, the queen exhaled heavily and a loud wail filled the room. Though the royals thought it impossible, the king’s smile widened even further, his thick brows raising higher and almost disappearing into his hairline. The king released a gusty laugh and turned to look at his queen who seemed to be growing paler by the minute. Overcome with joy, the king failed to notice her grip on his large hands loosening. He released her hands and in three large strides, stood next to the midwife and her two helpers who were in the process of cleaning the child. ‘Oh?’ The king thought. ‘A girl?’

Images of what his daughter would look like as she aged flooded his mind, making his chest swell with pride. He chuckled loudly and swept a hand through his chocolate brown locks at the thought. The queen, on what was to be her deathbed, smiled as she watched him fawn over their child. She was certain he would do well in raising the little girl. Knowing she hadn’t much time left, the queen pushed herself up into a sitting position and called out to her king.

“Sirius, I want to see…” She called. Her soft voice, like a soothing melody, reached the king’s ears causing him to turn and smile at her before nodding swiftly. He washed his hands free of the blood and sweat that remained before carefully taking the still crying baby from the midwife’s arms. He cradled the small child, amazed at the difference in size between his hand and her head. She was so tiny, after all, she was born two months early. The king brushed a bruised knuckle over the baby’s ruddy cheek, shushing her softly and gently bouncing her. This seemed to work as the baby’s cries got quieter. The king smiled and walked back towards his queen, gazing at her with love and apparent pride shining in his stormy blue eye. The queen smiled again, the corners of her eyes crinkling similarly to that of her husband and she lifted her arms to receive the child. Gently, she adjusted the baby so that her head rested on her bosom and she sighed. 

‘You’re here.’

She thought as her vision began to fade. ‘You’re finally here…’

She bowed her head and placed a kiss on the little girl’s cheek, causing the baby to open her eyes and look up at her joyful parents. The queen gasped and her eyes filled with tears as she gazed into the baby’s beautiful grey eyes. Identical to her own. The queen laughed, a sweet tinkling laugh that made all others in the little room smile brightly as they watched their royal family.

Alas, good things can only last for so long.

As the queen’s laughter died down, she leaned back against the cushions to meet her husband’s loving gaze with one of her own and she sighed her final words.

“Thank...you...Sirius~” Her voice trailed off as her grey eyes dimmed and her arms slacked. The king’s smile wavered as he leaned closer to her, wondering if she had perhaps fallen ill. As he leaned closer, he noticed that her smile seemed frozen and her eyes were only half open and unblinking. His heart, which hadn’t stopped pounding, seemed to skip a beat once he recognised the signs.

‘She was gone? No...She couldn’t be.’ He frowned and his brows drew closer together.

‘She has to be here to watch our child flourish....She promised she would.’

The king reached out a trembling hand to his queen. Anxiously, he touched her cheek. It was still warm and that gave him a small flicker of hope. He gently gripped her shoulder and shook it, only serving to further loosen the queen’s grip on the child. The baby, startled by the sudden movement, let out a loud wail. As if it were a siren, the king’s eyes widened abruptly in realisation. He grabbed both of the queen’s shoulders and shook her, desperately attempting to wake her. “IRIDESSA!” His deep voice filled the room, plunging it into a frenzy of motion. The baby screamed and began kicking, while the king shook his wife’ body, unaware that his child was dangerously close to following in its mother’s footsteps. The midwife noticed this and immediately ran to catch the child, cradling it against her chest before running out of the room with her helpers to go and fetch the doctor and mortician. The king remained in the room, but at this point he’d stopped shaking the queen and was now crying. At some point he’d gotten on the bed and straddled her, trying his hardest to get a response from what he knew but could not bring himself to believe was his dead lover.

“Iridessa please! Answer me!” He yelled, his eyes wide and fearful as he waited to no avail for a response. The king hunched over and buried his face in the crook of the corpse’s neck as the sobs racked his body and the tears blinded his left eye. Wrapping his arms around her, he adjusted himself so he was cradling her body in his lap, uncaring of the blood staining her white maternity gown. He held her close and stayed like that, crying and begging her to come back to him. He pressed his forehead against her own, staring into her vacant, unseeing eyes with a deep sadness he’d never previously experienced and tried again.

“Please my love...come back to me…” Still, no response. Of course, the king hadn’t expected to receive one, yet the deafening silence seemed to hurt worse than it had before.

 He shut his eyes again, and hugged her closer, savouring the remaining warmth in her body and continued to cry. He cried and cried until the midwife returned with the baby, doctor and a mortician in tow, only releasing her to allow the doctor to examine the body. He lay her down gently, passing his hand over her face once to properly close her eyes and put her to rest. Pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, he smiled down at her and swept her long black hair out of her face for the last time. Silently, the king washed his hands in the basin of water at the back of the room which had long since gone cold and walked over to the midwife. He stopped before her and wordlessly plucked his child out of the woman’s arms. 

The midwife watched him as he walked away with the infant, too shocked to say anything. She briefly caught his eye and winced at the pain swirling in its depths before bowing her head and turning away. The king exited the room, shutting the door quietly so as not to disturb his sleeping beloved. Leaning against the wall by the door, he cradled the child in one arm and reached down to unbuckle the sword strapped to his waist. It clattered to the floor loudly and soon his body followed as he slid down the wall. He sat on the floor and raised his legs to prop the infant up on his thighs. Placing his arms on both sides of his legs to prevent her from rolling, he smiled at the baby’s sleeping face. He allowed his eyes to roam her face, noting that the child seemed to take after her mother in features more so than she did her father. The tears began welling up again, but this time they didn’t fall. He lifted a hand to gently caress his daughter’s cheek and whispered.

“You are very small and very powerful, though you do not yet know it, but you could loose a single cry, my little one, and I’d burn down empires to dry your tears.”

The king’s smile widened slightly as he, for the first time, uttered the new princess’ name.

“My darling Ayah”

On that day, the king made a vow, a vow that he would uphold ‘til his last breath had left his body.

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