Ever After Tales Pt 3 Prologue- Revised

Aurora awoke with a gasp. Her head sprung from the pillow and as she tried to regain control of her breathing, she heard the warbled mewing of her babe. There was another sound too, a dark cackle, one she knew all too well. The queen tossed back the covers and stumbled to the cradle where her child, her sweet, beautiful baby, lay restlessly. Without hesitation, she reached inside and picked her daughter up. Alina she was named, for she had a feeling her youngest child would be a most noble, if not graceful girl, just like her mother.

She checked her daughter over, making sure she wasn’t dying (a perpetual fear of the woman’s), and after her worries were soothed, she set out to calm her child. Alina’s cries were growing louder, meaning Aurora had best solve the problem before Philip awoke and both parents lost sleep. This being their fourth child, the parents were used to sleepless nights, but now that they were older and had to spend much time chasing after energetic kiddies, the appeal was lost.

The queen brushed aside her messy curls and rocked the fussy child as she suckled. Under her breath, she hummed a familiar tune, calming both babe and mother.

‘Every other night it’s the same dream. That vile woman keeps haunting me, even in death,’ Aurora shook her head, trying to get the image of Maleficent out of her head. After the curse was broken, the woman hadn’t said more than a sentence about what the witch had done to her. It was easier to pretend it never happened then to face the demons she kept locked away. Even Philip didn’t know the whole story, although out of anyone, he knew the most. Even the good fairies didn’t know how their evil counterpart manipulated the princess, placing her in a trance to send her to her demise.

Alina dozed off in Aurora’s grip, bringing a relieved smile to her mother’s face. The little girl held a striking resemblance to her mother; even her eyes held the same violet shimmer Aurora’s did. As she continued to sleep, the queen placed her babe back in her cradle then grabbed her robe. She’d never be able to rest now, not with the dream still pumping adrenaline through her, so she went to check on her children in the shared nursery. Her eldest was beginning to demand her own room, but for now the royal children would share. It made bed checks much easier on the parents.

She laced her velvet robe tighter as she tiptoed to the nursery down the hall. No servants were wandering, and other than the occasional knight, no one would disturb the queen on her quest to calm her nerves.

The creaking door almost gave her away, but thankfully the children were heavy sleepers. Aurora closed the door behind her and made her rounds in the dark. First was Dietrich, her eldest boy. He was only four and already he had a smart mouth (goodness knows who he got that from), but in his sleep he was the picture of angelic peace. His resemblance to Philip was almost frightening, but Aurora found it reassuring. She and her husband created these children, and nothing could take them away, not even the Mistress of Evil.

In the central bed rested Rue, the eldest at six years. The girl was tragically energetic, to the point where both parents wondered how they were going to keep an eye on her when she grew older still. Patience was key, Aurora knew that much.

At first, it seemed odd to name a child after an herb, but when the woman recalled all that Fauna taught her of plants in her childhood, it didn’t seem so peculiar. The fairies had been good to her, and the only way she could think to show her gratitude was showing them she remembered their lessons, cherishing them dearly.

Last was her youngest son, Brock, a name chosen solely by Philip. It was a strong name, a confident name, something that, when people heard it, they would bow down and show respect to the person who carried it. Aurora had a feeling she suspected her husband was fearful Brock would grow resentful in his brother’s shadow. From birth, he wanted to let his son know he didn’t have to be a firstborn to be given respect and a place of honour. It was a bittersweet name, but Aurora liked it all the same.

Seeing her children were safe, Aurora retired to her chamber once more, suddenly sleepy. When she went inside, she hadn’t expected Philip to be awake, let alone cradling Alina as she mewed in her father’s tender grasp. He must have heard the door shut, for his head shot up and he smiled shyly. Even now, he still managed to hold onto that boyish charm that caught her attention so many years ago. It made her heart flutter just thinking about it.

“She couldn’t sleep. I guess she missed you, not that I blame her,” he explained with a quiet chuckle.

Aurora hid her smile in the darkness of their cozy room and settled on the bed beside him. “I fed her earlier, so perhaps she needs to be changed,” the mother suggested, her head falling to rest on his shoulder. Alina’s eyes were open and they darted to their mother. Once she caught sight of her, the baby’s whining stopped and she seemed settled.

Philip visibly relaxed but he didn’t put her down. Truth be told, he was charmed by babies, especially his own, and the chance to hold them, even when he was dead tired didn’t stop him.

“Seems Daddy wasn’t good enough for her,” he teased as he suppressed a yawn. Aurora chuckled and laced her arms around his waist, sighing against the soft material of his sleeping attire.

“I don’t know, you’ve always been more than enough for me,” she whispered.

Some minutes passed before either spoke again. Aurora was nearly lulled to sleep by his breathing, but that stopped when she heard his voice vibrate inside her.

“Did you have the dream again?”

She had told him of her dream, once, when she awoke in tears and he demanded (begged) to know what was wrong. She only told him part of it, the part he knew of (her death), and that was enough for him to understand. Whenever she awoke now, he usually did too, on impulse. Sometimes they’d talk, other times nothing was said. Nothing need be said, for he understood that while she kept parts of herself from him, she did it to protect him and the children. It pained him though, this she knew, but she couldn’t bear to tell him everything. She wasn’t sure it was possible.

He received a nod, but nothing else. Philip placed Alina back in the cradle then turned so Aurora was curled up to him. She felt the pressure of his head resting against hers, of his arms around her waist, and felt reassured that everything would be fine, that everything was fine. Nothing could hurt her, not with her prince always there.

“It’s always worse the night before christenings,” she admitted quietly. Philip nodded. He remembered the time when, the night before Rue’s christening, she awoken nearly every hour with tears pouring down her face. He hadn’t understood then, but now that he did, he knew why she was afraid. Her christening was where everything in her life changed, not exactly for the best. Aurora did not want the same thing to happen to her children.

“It will be fine Darling, I promise,” he whispered, his lips brushing the crown of her head. The king reclined until he was flat on the mattress with his queen rising and falling with his breathing.

“I know. Goodnight Philip.” The father muttered his own goodnight then fell asleep. Yes, everything would be fine, it had to be. It just had to.