Golden eyes watching our every move
Losing time without the sun or moon
Though he is already a father thrice over, he finds pregnancy not nearly so simple as he had thought. But then, he hadn’t known of the triplets until they had been birthed, and so he’d not witnessed their mother’s pregnancy. Perhaps it might have been different then though, because Faultline had never held his heart.
It’s foolish, he knows, to fret so over her. Women have been doing this for eons, and Briseis had managed this twice now before, without his aid either time (he should’ve been there the last time, had he not been so foolish. But, regrettably, he cannot change the past). Still, he finds himself hovering, remaining close to her side throughout. She does not seem to mind, fortunately. Indeed, she seems as keen to remain near him as he is to her. And so it is there he is to be found when the first ripples of pain foretell the impending birth of their child.
He remains quiet throughout the entire process, though he finds himself touching her often, his lips seeking the reassurance of her skin, so warm and alive. He finds himself admiring her strength and beauty. Even dampened with sweat and drawn with exhaustion, he finds her the loveliest thing he has ever seen.
Still, he cannot help but to worry. Had he known what a toll this would take on her, perhaps he might have taken more care. Of course, even he knows he hasn’t that kind of restraint. But the worried mind often conjures such foolish thoughts. Imagines the worst of scenarios and berates itself for the actions that had led them here, even as he gently smooths the sweat-dampened strands of hair from her forehead with tender lips.
The moment that small, wet bundle settles on the earth however, all such thoughts seem to immediately be forgotten. For a moment, he can only stare. But as the colt’s struggle stirs Briseis from her prone position, Ether is drawn back to reality.
“Briseis,” he whispers, placing a row of soft kisses along her neck, tasting the salt of sweat on her skin as she tends to their son. He drops his own muzzle to the boy, nosing curiously, affectionately, at the small forehead and damp tufts of his dark mane. As his fur dries, the shade lightens into a subtle blue. A color he easily recognizes, given how prevalent it has been through his siblings. A color he had once been himself, until the shadows had claimed him as their own. Unmistakably his.
Of course, it does not occur to him Briseis might be unaware of his claim to that particular hue.
Eyes bright, he turns to peer at Briseis, love shining from his golden gaze, so easily replacing worry and guilt. He brushes a soft kiss across her cheek, humming in response to her whispered question. Perhaps he should have considered such things before this moment, given it far more thought than he had.
“Blue?” he finally says, more question than suggestion. But then, he had never claimed to be particularly creative in his naming.
ether