anonymous asked: Fanbabies! Sebastian and Hawke's first child. :3


She had a feeling that when she came back into the room, he'd be there.

Sure enough, when Hawke opened the doors, Sebastian stood by the bassinet, lit by the warm midmorning sun streaming in through the windows behind him. He turned to greet her with a smile, the simple golden band of the royal circlet glinting with the incline of his head.

"She's awake," he murmured quietly as his wife crossed the room to join them.

"And that means she'll be hungry soon," Hawke added, looking around for the nurse. "Where's Enid?"

"I asked her to leave us for a moment." He ran a hand gently over his daughter's wispy auburn curls, beaming widely as a tiny hand came up to grasp at his sleeve. "She looks more like you every day."

"And shares your fascination with my breasts, let me tell you." She leaned in to pick up the infant, eliciting a happy-sounding burble. "Come on, Robin, your father is using you as an excuse to avoid work."

She led Sebastian over to the cushioned chaise beneath the neighboring window, transferring the tiny princess to lay supported against her father's chest. He leaned back into the plush fabric, adjusting to better free his upper hand. He was learning quickly, Hawke noted - likely a result of constantly ducking into the royal quarters to catch a moment of relief from his duties and marvel at the wonder that was the tiny human.

"You can't keep running over here every chance you get," Hawke reminded him. "The Feastday festival is coming up in a matter of weeks, and you still have a lot of planning to do."

"So my advisors remind me," he chuckled. "Bann MacDougall is particularly insistent about finalizing decisions on which ale we'll be serving at the banquet."

"Of course he would be."

Hawke reclined on her side, pulling her knees to curl beneath her as she watched the two of them.

"Maybe I should move her to the audience chamber," she joked. "Then you might actually get some work done."

"The people have been anxiously awaiting a formal introduction," he half-agreed as he pressed a kiss to his daughter's head.

"Then we can take her out for a bit on Feastday," Hawke conceded. "But if the loud music and bright colors send her into a fit, she's your daughter, not mine."

He laughed, the vibration stirring the formerly-dozing child in his arms.

"Understood," he acknowledged, patting Robin on the back lightly to coax her into sleep again. "Just… a few more minutes, I swear it."

Hawke smirked, pinching his nose. "You're prince. Do your job."

He fought a smile.

"Yes, mo ghraidh."