He remembered when he was born. He was so tiny in his arms. His precious thing, his son, his pride and joy, his blessing from above. Mathias' face lit up when he saw his baby boy's crying face, and he couldn't help but allow an ear-splitting to spread across his face. The Dane's wife smiled warmly as he stared at the crying child like an excited puppy, waiting for a treat, his bright blue eyes glimmering with utter euphoria as he watched his newly born son, who, even in his much smaller wife's arms, was so tiny and fragile. The Dane felt like the happiest man alive.
When the woman held the baby out for Mathias to take, he panicked, and immediately declined, the face of pure joy replacing with horror. What if he didn't hold him right? What if he didn't like him? What if he hurt him? The tall Dane was so worried about harming this little bundle of joy he didn't think he could stop himself from whimpering aloud, like a kicked puppy. Though hearing a laugh from the woman, and feeling the baby being pushed into his hands, Mathias had little time to react as he stared down at the baby, who seemed to be quiet now. Did he do that?
Gulping, the Dane held the small child, his hand cupping his face as small hands reached up, grabbing the Dane's large fingers and examining them with bright magenta eyes, a soft gradient of violet mixed in. Mathias stared down at the child, his lips parted slightly as his eyes widened down. His bottom lip quivered, and within seconds he was blubbering like a baby, tears falling down his face as he watched the utter beauty that was in his arms, and held it close. He sniffled and sobbed, holding his baby in his arms as he pressed gentle kisses to the bare forehead.
"Welcome to the world, baby boy." Mathias whispered, his eyes shining warmly as the baby giggled and babbled at him, hands clenching and unclenching as they found the reddish blonde locks, pulling on them slightly. Wincing, the man laughed softly, untangling the baby's fragile hands and stared down.
"What shall we call him?" asked the woman in the bed, who looked utterly exhausted after so many hours, screaming and moaning in pain from the childbirth. He could see it in her eyes though, she knew it was all worth it. They both did. Glancing over to her, Mathias admired the beautiful woman, who he knew his son would soon resemble, and smiled endearingly at her, blue eyes roaming back to his son.
"Eiríkur." He concluded, his eyes sparkling. "It's a beautiful name, for a beautiful boy." He explained, looking up to his wife for approval. She seemed accepting of the name, seeing as her smile never changed, and her eyes remained warm. Pressing a gentle, sweet kiss to the tiny child's lips, Mathias brushed his knuckle gently across Eiríkur's cheek. "He's beautiful, dear." Mathias cooed, eyes warming as he dried his own tears.
Glancing over to his wife, the Dane once again stood, his feet taking him to the cot that rest at the side of their bedroom, his lips warmly singing a soft song to the tiring baby, which was now settling in his arms. He stayed by the cot, even a while after he'd set Eiríkur into it, and lulled him to sleep.
"Come back to bed." His wife called, and reluctantly he obliged, his large figure slipping off his shirt and moving to settle in the large bed next to his exhausted, tired, and no doubt paining wife. He brushed her platinum blonde hair out of her face, his lips brushing against her head, before he carefully pulled her close, his warmth enveloping her as they drifted to sleep.
His wife never woke up that morning. Her body too weak to continue, the childbirth seeming to have taken her life through the exhaustion. It wasn't surprising, before she went to sleep, she looked half dead to begin with. He loved her though. And although she had passed, she'd given him something that he will remember her by always. Her baby, his son. Their entire world.