Eight, nine, ten – what's its name, then?

Naming a baby is not easy. Especially if said baby is the child of a king, and its mother is a shooting star.

A little fic for one of my OTPs, from my favourite film ever.

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Tristan turned his head on the pillow, and caressed his wife's face with his eyes. Yvaine was sleeping, smiling as if she was in the middle of a joyful dream, her blond hair so fair it was luminous. Well, it actually was shining – something Tristan would never stop finding awe-inspiring and wonderful.

Yvaine had always been radiant, ever since the first time they had met – and she had just fallen from the night sky. However, as soon as she had discovered they were going to have a baby, her complexion and her smile had become even brighter. She was the light of Tristan's life.

(«You know», he had told her one evening, a mocking smile on his lips, «if you keep glowing like that, people are going to think you're a fallen star- oh, wait». She had smacked him on the head.)


«There's no side of the Wall in which I'm going to name my children One, Two, Three, mother!» Tristan announced, holding his newborn daughter in his arms. He was talking to his parents, but not actually with them: all he was interested in at that moment was his baby, who was drooling a bit and trying to keep her eyes open. Yvaine was watching them tenderly while lying on the bed, her body tired but glowing vividly in the castle's room.

«You really shouldn't disregard this tradition, Tristan», his mother said. «It's how it's always been».

«Oh, come on, Una!» Tristan's father exclaimed, smiling teasingly. «You have to admit that numbers-as-names thing is quite ridiculous!» His wife smacked him on the arm. «Ouch. And I would hardly define them traditional royals». Una scoffed, then grabbed his husband by the collar and pulled him into a kiss.

«Mother, father, please. I don't see you but I can hear you. Stop that», Tristan affirmed, rolling his eyes in Yvaine's direction. She laughed a little and stretched her arms; her husband sat on the bed and placed their daughter in the crook of her arm, before kissing each of them on the head.

«To be fair, I don't think our stories developed in a normal way», Una admitted, glancing at her son over her shoulder. «Hence, I will be happy with any name you choose».

Tristan and Yvaine looked at each other, smiling; she nodded and said: «Well, then… Her name is Cecily».


Tristan opened his eyes abruptly. He fumbled through the bedcover before gently shaking Yvaine awake.

«Mmh?» She managed to articulate, turning to face him.

«Yvaine! I just realized something!» He said, his smile visible thanks to his wife's dim glowing. «Our children's names… if you put their initials together it reads "comets"! I mean, it's great and- wow! Can you believe it?» He looked at her expectantly.

She giggled, her hair getting brighter. «Oh, my. Yes, I know, Tristan. Acrostics aren't usually so on point by chance. They require some thinking». She raised her eyebrows, grinning, a hint of sarcasm in her eyes. She kissed his nose and said «Goodnight», before dozing off again.

Tristan's eyebrows furrowed. «What?!»