nakhes

(n.) the satisfaction gained from life's gifts; proud pleasure, especially in one's children or grandchildren and their successes, however small.


Will sat in his bedroom with his feet up. His book was still open in his lap, though he'd stopped reading it a while ago. He played with Tessa's soft brown locks and listened to her steady breathing as she slept. She'd tucked herself in close to his side, with her head down against his shoulder and her arm around his waist so she could keep him close.

"Are you alright?" he'd asked her after she'd settled in their bed.

"I'm just tired," she'd said, raising her head to smile at him. It was a small smile, but it was a smile nonetheless. It made him worry less. No matter how many times he told himself that she was at her second pregnancy and nothing had happened to her during her first one it didn't stop Will's worries.

He shifted a little so he could look at her. She looked peaceful and content in her sleep, all traces of exhaustion and illness gone from her face and replaced by a peaceful slumber. He lightly passed the back of his hand across her cheek and she stirred, cuddling in a little closer.

A soft wailing snapped his attention back and the book fell from his lap and hit the floor with a soft thud. Will's eyes roamed over the room, but they were alone. It took him a moment to realise that the crying he'd heard had come from the nursery, where his son James was meant to be sleeping but instead was crying out like a banshee.

He held his breath for a few moments, expecting Tessa to wake up and tend to their son, but her sleep was unperturbed by their son's crying in the other room. It made Will realise how tired she truly was. Out of the two of them, she was the one who was always woken up at the most ungodly hours by their son. She'd jokingly told him once that he could probably sleep through a massive explosion, and it was true. He was not one to be woken up easily even by the loudest sound.

Will let out a long breath before gently, as not to wake Tessa, he slowly slipped out of their bed and made his way to the nursery where his son was. It had been five months since his wife had given birth to James. His son, he thought as his eyes settled on the small child in the cradle. The child he'd always wanted in the deepest corner of his heart, though he and Tessa had never really discussed it. It was a subject that wasn't comfortable for her, and he knew that. He knew she felt guilty for not being able to give him a child, though he hardly ever held that against her. Will was content with having just her in his life. She was all he needed. She made him happy. It was a strange thing to get used to, being as happy as he was.

He reached out gently for his child, taking him in. James looked so much like both of them. His shock of black hair at the top of his head was clearly his father's, though on his little face, Will could see tiny gestures that reminded him so much of his wife. The way he looked curiously at his surroundings, with a glint of curiosity and repressed amusement at the same time. The shape of his eyes was his mother's too; those wide, wide eyes taking in the world as if he was seeing it for the first time.

James' eye colour, however, was what set him apart. It was an unusual colour, though to his parents, there wasn't any colour that suited him any better. His eyes were shining gold, like a crystal glass held up to catch the light of a blazing sun. There is no shadow a doubt that he is Nephilim, Jem had told Will when he'd seen his son for the first time. Yet his eyes mark him as something not entirely Nephilim.

Those shining gold eyes were now looking up at Will through a veil of tears, and for a fleeting moment, he felt helpless. He didn't know what to do. He still treated his son as if he were a fragile piece of china, as if he might break if he were not tended to with gentleness. Will considered waking Tessa up. She was much more qualified for this. He pushed that thought away as soon as it came. He'd seen how tired his wife was, so he would let her rest. He would calm his nerves because, after all, he was a man and men were not easily intimidated. Men could handle anything. Children included.

His lips started to form words, and Will found himself singing. He was murmuring a song, a ballad from his childhood he'd thought was long gone from his memory. Apparently it wasn't. The words, the tune, everything about that ballad came to him naturally, as if he'd sung that song every day. The memories were also as vivid as ever, and for a moment, he was twelve again, and he was back in his home in Wales with his older sister Ella.

Will remembered, for there was no way he could have ever forgotten. He pictured his sister, his Ella, tucking him in his bed that night after he'd opened his father's Pyxis and that blasted demon had come out. Looking back now, he noticed things he hadn't at the time. That night, as his sister had brushed aside his thick black curls out of his eyes and kissed his forehead her hand had been shaking. Her face had been paler than usual, and her eyes, a shade lighter than his own, had lost a bit of the spark they held in them.

Most of all, he remembered the ballad. It was so unusual for Ella to show affection like that, unlike Cecily, who could always be found clinging to both his and Ella's sleeves. Yet that night, she had sung a ballad their mother had taught them and had whispered reassuring nothings in his ear. That night, he had fallen asleep to her sweet voice, not knowing it would be the last time he would see her.

Now, Will's voice sang the same tune. James had stopped crying, and was watching his father with big curious eyes. He kept singing and swaying around his son gently, even as he fell asleep in his arms. He wanted to finish the song. He wanted to be sure that he still remembered its tune, even after all those ears.

"I think he fell asleep." Tessa's voice was gentle and it snapped his attention back.

She was right. Of course he was. James was fast asleep in his arms, his lips slightly parted. Will sighed and placed him back in his cradle and covered him with a blanket. His son only made a small sound before grasping the edges of the blanket with his small hands and settling back in his peaceful slumber.

Will turned to Tessa. "I was distracted," he said eventually. She nodded and approached him to look down at their son. In the moonlight, she looked even paler than before, though she seemed much more rested. "How long have you been watching us?"

"Not for long," she admitted, reaching down to touch James' cheek. "I did hear him start crying."

"You should have stayed in bed," Will said, not bothering to hide the worry in his voice. "You need rest."

Tessa gave him a reassuring smile. "I wanted to see how you were handling him."

After a long stretch of silence, he finally said, "It came to me so naturally. The ballad I sang to him. The same ballad my sister had sung to me that night." When he looked at her again, she watched him with sympathy. She knew precisely which night he was talking about.

"It is a beautiful ballad," was all she said.

Will reached for her at the same time she leaned into him. His arm went around her waist, and she let her head rest against his shoulder. He used his free hand to push back a lock of hair behind her ear. "I want him to sing it to his sister when he's older," he said, kissing the top of Tessa's head. "When she wakes up at night after a nightmare, I want him to comfort her and sing it to her just as Ella sang it to me."

"He will," Tessa said. "He will be a good brother to his sister. I can feel it."

He said nothing. Instead, he let his free hand rest on the swell of her stomach, where he could feel faint movement. Her hand covered his almost immediately. They stayed like that, in each other's arms, looking down at their sleeping son and feeling the movement of their unborn daughter against their hands and in that moment spent with the three people he loved most in the world, Will felt home.


Author's Note: I realise that it has been quite a while since I've uploaded something on this website. I am sorry about that. I don't have any excuses, except for school taking most of my free time. I'm slowly starting to write again, as the next few months until the end of May will be relatively easier and not filled with that much work for school. Hopefully I will be able to write little fics like this one and maybe start an actually story. We will see. In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed this!