A battle.

It sounded like a battle. It had been hours now and the moans and screams grew louder and louder, becoming more frequent.

He was calm.

This was not his battle to fight. He did not pace the hallway, he stood still, waiting. He had been in war before. Part of him was fascinated with the sounds, while the rest of him wanted them to finally come to an end. He had never imagined that the very sounds of giving life were actually so similar to the sounds of taking life.

He didn't worry.

She was strong and possessed a stamina that would put many men to shame. Her screams now served the same purpose as did his whoops during battle, letting off steam. Any time now.

He was patient.

Leonidas had spent all afternoon in the smaller hallway of his house waiting for the labor to be over. He was excited in a way, but no expression of his face betrayed him to his surroundings. He was a Spartan; there was no need to show unnecessary emotions towards others. Just like he chose to speak only, if there was no other option left and even then he made sure that it wasn't too much at a time.

He was no speaker, he had never been. If Sparta was ever to be seen as a breathing human being made my the Gods themselves, then The Elder Council would be the voice of her, the Oracle would be her dazed mind and he along with all the perfectly trained Hoplites would be her arms holding sword and shield ready to fight and protect her.

Another loud moan followed by an unusual silence brought him back to the present. He set his crimson Chlamys on his shoulder, his intense gray-green glance focusing on the door that had been separating him from his wife and her servants for the past hours. He felt tension slowly creep itself into his muscles, knowing that the silence soon had to be broken. After the agonizing length of a minute, which he could not determine for sure how long it really took, but he surely felt it like an eternity different screams filled the air. This time they did not belong to her, but to the new life she had been fighting to deliver for so long.

He lifted his head as the door to their chambers opened and he was admitted in.

After entering he had to realize that if the sounds of labor were similar to cries of war than the sight before him, was definitely close to a battlefield. She lay in their bed still breathing hard, her body was bathed in perspiration, her long brown curls moist, sticking to her cheeks and shoulders and the tangled sheets around her were bloody though one of the servants was already starting to clean up.

They exchanged a short, but significant glance. She smiled at him reassuringly, nodding to the question that he now did not have to ask anymore. They were communicating in their own language that often required no actual words spoken. They were only interrupted when the elder servant stepped up to him.

-My Lord…

He looked down, to see the source of the loud and strong cries for the first time. He couldn't help, but feel the immense joy and pride that tightened his chest and made his heart skip several beats. He allowed himself a small smile as he observed the naked wriggling infant that was finally placed in his arms. He wanted to shout it out loud that the love he shared with his precious wife and the favor of the Gods presented him with a healthy and strong boy. No victory on field has ever made him feel this way. They locked glances again and his smile faded instantly. He knew it was not their time yet. Her breathing has only calmed a bit, but before she could have a look at her new born son she quickly closed her eyes and turned her head away from him.

-Go…

Her voice was forced calm and low and she took a deep breath. She could not hold her child yet, not even if he was crying to be fed.

He nodded silently. No matter how he felt, that the boy was healthy and strong in his eyes, it was not his place to decide. Being King of Sparta did not make him an exception. He had to obey the same laws he was sworn to protect.

He placed his Chlamys halfway over the crying newborn and left the chambers taking long and steady steps. Only when he heard the door being closed behind him did he allow a small yet heavy sigh to escape his lips betraying his calm appearance.

With Gorgo's soft voice now drumming in his ears Leonidas left his home and headed in the dark mountain's direction, where the Chosen One of the Elder Council was already waiting for him to inspect the new born son of Sparta.

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The road leading his way out of the city was relatively short even on foot, but with the crying infant it did seem far longer than usual. He soon left the first hill behind him and his eyes came to rest on the desolate landscape that would be his escort till the end of the journey. 'How fitting' he thought, there was no comfort for the ones, who failed to return with their child in their arms.

In the opposite direction laid the endless golden fields of corn, which were tilled by the Helots and owned by the Spartan families. He himself claimed some land as his own and he liked to spend time there every once in a while and relax, enjoy his wife's company, undisturbed, away from politics and other duties being his obligation. In this moment he wished he could lie there in one of the fields watching the sky without a worry, instead of marching through these barren lands, in the knowledge that he may have to defer to the Chosen Elder's will, even if he would have to walk this way back alone afterwards.

He narrowed his eyes as the high cliffs of the mountains soon came into view. Thankfully the child's crying ceased. Maybe he sensed that there was more at stake than him still not having been fed at all. A strong, chilly wind run down the ascent and he had to cover the child better under his Chlamys.

He felt no cold; he was immune against any sort of weather or any other kind of impact that was meant to cause him pain. Just like he never knew fear before, up until now. He wondered how it would be like to feel that warmth now filling his heart slipping out of him, leaving him empty. He picked up his pace wanting to reach the meeting point with the Elder as soon as possible.

After what seemed like hours climbing up the ascent with the child in one arm, holding himself up against the wind that beat down on both of them, he finally reached the ancient gendarme. A few moments later he focused his eyes on the man standing at the edge of the cliff. He had long white hair and beard, wearing a long white chiton, looking more of a phantom or ghost rather than a human. Their glances met and he could see the Elder's icy blue eyes boring into him, eyeing the infant he held. The Elder finally stretched his arm out and pointed a bony finger at him.

-Step up to me Leonidas! I have been waiting for you.

He nodded curtly and made the last few steps, until he was standing beside the Elder at the edge of the cliff on mount Taygetus.