blackbird singin in the dead of night

[magnus]

I wanna give you wild love, the kind that never slows down
I wanna take you high up let our hearts be the only sound

He watches from afar. Has been watching from when he first realized that she was with child. He kept a close eye on her, giving her space and privacy, but doing his best to look after her, to ensure that she was comfortable and safe. So he is not far when she goes into labor, is not fair when she finally gets to the ground and enters into the rhythms so ancient to bring new life into the world. Magnus doesn’t intrude, doesn’t think to take that from her, but he is grateful to hear such steady breathing. His nerves are on edge, the fear of what lurks just outside of Tephra’s borders a constant reminder, but he trusts in her—enough to give her this moment to bring her daughter into the world without him hovering over her.

Still, he is on edge, a muscle jumping in his jaw as he looks out around the kingdom, waiting for a moment when it would be calm enough for him to make his way toward the duo. When it finally grows quiet, and he thinks he can hear the barest sound of a suckling child, he gives into his desire to be with the family, and he walks through the thick vegetation to the haven where she has found a sanctuary.

“Jude,” her name is thick with emotion as she makes his way toward her. He stands by her side, giving her his shoulder to rest on. Reaching over, he presses inky lips to the curve of her strong jaw, his gold-flecked eyes dark with emotion. He glances down to the child filling her belly, the tiny features, the palest of pink staining her impossibly fragile limbs. “She’s beautiful,” he breathes, unable to keep the affection from his voice. He loved children—had always loved them—and his heart swelled at the sight.

I wanna go where the lights burn low and you're only mine

@[peregrine jude]