Disclaimer: I do not own The Originals.
She was born on the eve of the Winter Solstice, just as the dawn touched the darkness of the black sky, streaking past the milky stars and the darkened, heavy clouds. She was a small child, underdeveloped and born far, far too early, with tiny little fingers and toes and a red, red rosebud mouth. Her cries echoed out into the morning, her tiny arms flailing as her father lifted her high, wiping off the blood from her face and body, carefully, tenderly.
Ayanna, the dark-haired, dark-eyed witch who had been present for all the Mikaelson's births tended to the screaming child quickly, snipping the cord that linked her to her mother and wrapping her in wolf furs tightly, with deft, quick movements before passing her back to her awaiting father.
Esther moaned, trying to get the cramps out of her back as she trembled, attempting to lift her head to see her youngest child. It had been a difficult, brutal labor, even harder than Niklaus's and Henrik's, and it had lasted for hours upon hours, the pain only strengthening with each passing moment. She winced, biting back a pained yelp as her muscles shook with the effort of getting up. Ayanna eased a wet, dampened cloth over her brow and Esther sighed in relief, glad that she was able to cool down, even as worry ran rampant as butterflies in her stomach.
"...Esther...Mikael…" Ayanna began quietly, biting her lip, her arms crossing over her chest. "There might be a couple of...problems when it comes to the child."
Mikael stiffened, his stormy gaze lifting from his youngest child and fixating on the dark-eyed woman. Esther's eyes widened and her throat dried, her breathing coming in rasps. "What do you mean, Ayanna? You said she was fine when she was born."
Ayanna nodded, then weaved her fingers together before she started. "The girl is healthy, yes, but she was born premature. She is too small, too fragile and there could be a chance that she does not make it because of that. I did not wish to say anything but...she could become severely ill, especially with the cough that has been going around lately. You are to be careful, Esther. If you want your child to live...you must be very, very careful."
There was a reigning silence that filled the room, one that Esther was having trouble breathing through, the tears that appeared in her eyes stinging her nose. "Thank you, Ayanna."
The other woman nodded, her eyes creased in sympathy.
After Esther had assured Ayanna that everything was alright and that she could take it from here and that yes, she would call for her if she was in need, her friend left, whispering a prayer for the newborn that lay in her husband's arms.
"Easy, my wife." Her husband said quietly as Esther struggled to rise, not looking up from the babe and she realized, that for the first time in a very, very long time, he had quieted, his usually stormy gaze fixated on the child that lay fussy and drowsy in his arms. A part of Esther, a long, buried part of her, rose with shining hope, remembering the days where her husband had rejoiced being a father, his carefree laughter running out of his lips as his eyes followed little Finn and—
Her hope was swallowed and broken as a frown filled her husbands' face. The cold, hardened gleam returned to his eyes and Esther wanted to cry; cry for herself, her children, her newest daughter whose existence would already be tried by her father's stone heart.
"How is she?" Esther burst out, unable to quite stop herself from worrying as she recalled the hard, desperate birth and the sharp, tangent fear that she had felt when Ayanna had told her of the possibility that her daughter might not survive the labor. "My child, is she safe?"
Mikael just watched his newest daughter in quiet, cold contemplation before he lifted gray eyes to her own gaze. "Nothing is wrong with her, as Ayanna said...but she is right when she says the babe is too small."
Esther breathed out a sigh of relief despite the way he ended his thought, the muscles in her lower back and legs shaking with the effort of holding herself up. She smiled, wide and aching before she lifted her arms, asking for her husband to leave the girl in her protected hold.
Mikael lowered her gently, supporting her head as well as he could and placed her daughter in Esther's awaiting arms. She sucked in a sharp, shocked breath at the sight that beheld her. Her littlest daughter was perfect; her cheeks puffed out, making her look a little like a chipmunk as she regarded her mother. Her nose was dainty and delicate, much like Rebekah's and her lips were luscious and red, just like Niklaus's. It was her eyes however, lazy, amber eyes with the quickening of intellect that bored into her face, that reminded her of-
"The color is different but...She looks like...She has-" Esther began, remembering the memories of long ago, the little girl that had succumbed to an untimely fate, sealing her husband's heart in a tomb of stone.
Mikael looked away, his eyes glazed over with painful memories. "...She has Freya's eyes."
Esther nodded, unable to say anything for fear it would turn into a sob. Her youngest daughter relaxed into her hold and then her mouth kicked downwards, a yawn escaping her tiny, rosebud mouth as she mewed, turning her cheek searching for food.
Her husband watched, his eyes following the gentle movements of Esther's hands as his daughter fed, gulping down milk. Red-cheeked and flushed, her eyes blinking open and closed blearily before she snuggled deeper into Esther's hold, her tiny hand resting between her mother's breasts.
"What shall we call her?" Esther whispered in fear of waking the little girl.
"She might not make it. There is no point in naming a child destined to die."
"Mikael." Esther breathed out, her eyes wide. "Don't say those things. We have to hope. We have to."
He was still for a moment, before he sat down next to her, his hand rising as if of its own accord, and brushed the baby's head with graceful, calloused fingers. "...Eyja. Eyja Mikaelson."
Esther smiled, tired and exhausted, but Mikael was sure that in that moment, she looked like a thousand splendid suns.
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