in the night
DRACO WOKE UP WITH a gasp. His silver hues adjusted rapidly to the dark room as he looked around for the source of the cry he had just heard. Looking over to his left he saw, Aida snuggled into the sheets—her breasts peeking over the comforter. Sliding out of bed, his feet hit the floor and he padded towards the door. Walking down the hall, he poked his head into his son’s room and found him standing up in his crib, his hands on the bar. Crossing the distance between the doorway and the bed, Draco picked him up and swung him onto his hip. “It’s okay,” he murmured to the young boy as he walked back to the bedroom. “Daddy’s here.”
“Draco?” Aida whispered into the night as she felt the bed dip beside her. “What are you doing up?”
Draco pushed the covers back and slid in, keeping his eldest son close to his chest. “Someone here had a nightmare,” he twirled a curly hair around his finger.
“I didn’t even hear him,” Aida muttered. “God, I’m such a bad mom.”
“Hey, hey, stop, you’re a wonderful mother.”
Aida fell onto her back, “what kind of mother doesn’t hear her own son cry?”
“Sweetheart, you’re tired, stop beating yourself up.”
She was silent, her mind swirling with thoughts. “What about Adonis?”
“What?” Draco asked bewildered by her sudden change in topic.
“The name. What if we name him Adonis?” Aida’s head whipped to the side as the toddler began to babble incoherently. “See, even he likes it.” Blowing a raspberry on his bare stomach, Aida watched him giggle and squirm. “I think someones tired,” she murmured when Adonis yawned and rubbed his eyes.
Placing Adonis on his bare chest, Draco leaned back and closed his eyes, only for them to open widely when he realized something—or rather someone was missing. “Sweetheart,” he murmured, with one arm wide exposing his shoulder. He listened to her shuffling noises and then sighed when her head came to rest on his shoulder.
“Tired?” She whispered in his ear to which he nodded. “Sleep.” It was one of the few times that he managed to fall asleep before her and Aida watched her two boys sleep until she could no longer keep her eyes open.
“Shh,” Aida whispered as she picked up her wailing son. “It’s okay baby.” Rubbing his back she turned to face the window, watching her new home come into view. “Look at that Doni,” she pointed to the city below them. “That’s our new home.”
Draco leaned over and kissed Aida’s temple firmly. “I love you,” he murmured into her ear. “I love you too little man.” The plane touched the ground with a jerk and Draco was quick to unbuckle his seatbelt and extend his arms to Adonis.
“Your Majesty, My Lady” the driver nodded at the Royals and opened the doors to the car. “My apologies, but I don’t have a car seat.” The bald gentleman blushed and looked down almost as if he was expecting punishment.
“It’s okay…” she trailed off when she realized she didn’t know his name.
“Elias, My Lady, Elias.”
“It’s okay, Elias.” She smiled at him warmly and climbed into the limousine. The car ride was mostly quiet, the only sounds were of Adonis babbling away happily. “Oh wow,” she gasped when the castle came into view. “It’s even more beautiful than I remember.”
Draco smirked, “wait till you see the inside.” Extending his hand, he smiled widely as she took his hand. “Welcome home, Sweetheart.”
Hitching Adonis higher onto her hip, she twirled around in awe. “We need to take a picture,” she squealed.
With a chuckle, Draco handed his phone over to Elias. Standing beside her, Draco slid one hand into his pant pocket and the other around his mates waist. Glancing down at her, Draco couldn’t help but smile widely at her. “Thank you Elias.”
The driver nodded.
“You’re fine to go home now, Elias. The Queen and I won’t be leaving the castle tonight.” Waving goodbye, the family of three (soon to be five) spun on their heels and walked through the front door.
Aida’s feet were pounding against the floor as she raced to get to her son’s bedroom. “Shh baby, mama’s here,” Aida wiped his tears and picked up her son.
“Mama,” he cried as he wrapped his arms around her neck.
Aida froze and looked at her son. He had never called her ‘mama,’ before, in fact she had never heard him speak coherently. Her own tears pricked her multicolored eyes and in that moment, Aida felt like a true mother. Bouncing him on her hip, Aida walked through the castle and towards the kitchen. Walking down to the kitchen she tried to sit Doni on the cold kitchen counter but he whined in protest. “It’s okay,” she reassured me, “do you want some milk?”
He nodded, his thumb stuck in his mouth.
Balancing him on her hip she bored milk into a cup and popped it into the microwave.
“Sing mama,” he whispered against her neck.
She smiled, happy that Doni appreciated her singing, even if it was in a language he could not understand.
“Sing,” he said again.
“Au clair de la lune, mon ami Pierrot. Prête-moi ta plume, pour écrire un mot. Ma chandelle est morte, je n’ai plus de feu. Ouvre-moi ta porte, pour l’amour de Dieu.” The microwave beeped but she kept going as she poured the heated dairy product into a sippy cup. “Au clair de la lune, Pierrot répondit: Je n’ai pas de plume, je suis dans mon lit. Va chez la voisine, je crois qu’elle y est, car dans sa cuisine, on bat le briquet.” Quietly they walked back up the stairs and towards Doni’s bedroom. When she opened the door to his bedroom she was on the second to last verse. “Au clair de la lune, s’en fut Arlequin. Frapper chez la brune. Elle répond soudain: Qui frappe de la sorte? Il dit à son tour: ``Ouvrez votre porte, pour le Dieu d’Amour!” The cup that he was holding slipped from his grasp, causing some milk to spill onto her shirt but she caught the bottle. Leaning over his bed, she placed him under the covers and finished the song.
“Au clair de la lune, on n’y voit qu’un peu. On cherche la plume, on cherche du feu. En cherchant dela sorte, je n’sais cequ’on trouva. Mais je sais qu’la porte sur eux se fermera.” Her voice trailed off, the last of the verse slipping out of her mouth. Placing a kiss on his forehead she left the room, making sure to leave the door partly cracked so he could find his way to his parents when he woke up. Stepping into the room she shared with her mate, she laughed at the sight of Draco back asleep with his neck buried in her pillow and his arm around it. Sliding under the covers she tried to move the pillow from his grasp but he grunted and squeezed it tighter.
“No Celeste,” he mumbled, “don’t go.”
In any other situation she would have swooned, but at the moment she just laughed loudly.
His eyes opened slowly and he peered around and then blushed. “Shut up,” he grunted, pulling her flush against him so his neck was in her neck and his leg was between hers.