Chapter Text
There was a knock at the office door. “Philza?”
It was Samantha. “Come in”, Philza said without looking up from his paperwork.
Shuffling of skirts, clicking of heels. A pale hand came to rest on the desk surface, a bejewelled wedding band glinting in candlelight.
“This is important.”
Philza raised his gaze, locking eyes with the empress of his nation. Curly brown hair framed a delicate face, dark brown eyes peered at him, ever unreadable. A glittering crown, an ornate dress, all the finery a queen deserved draped over her. Like a tasteful art piece, meticulously crafted to impress and entice.
Philza should find her beautiful.
“What is it?” he asked his wife.
Samantha pressed her lips together. “They’re late.”
Philza tilted his head. “Who’s late?”
She sighed, hand coming to rest over her stomach. “...My period.”
Philza felt his heart stutter.
“By, by how much?”
“Three weeks.” She took a deep breath. “I wanted to make sure before I told you.”
“This-” Philza stood up, abruptly enough to topple his chair over. He took Samantha's hands in his, squeezing them gently. “This is wonderful-!”
“I don’t want to announce it to anyone yet”, Samantha said quietly. “Not until I start to show.”
“Of course. Whatever you wish.” Philza kissed her knuckles. It should feel more meaningful than just pressing lips against skin.
~
“...I can feel you staring.”
Philza grinned apologetically. “Sorry.”
They were in the drawing room, Samantha on the couch, Philza on the armchair with a book in hand.
She sighed. “Come on”, she said, waving him over. “You can touch it. I know you want to.”
She was leaning as far back as she could, feet propped on a stool. Her hands were resting atop her belly, full and round.
Philza shuffled over and sat next to her on the couch. He carefully placed his palm over the bump. Samantha didn’t like others touching her stomach; this was a rare treat, even for him.
“It’s not long now, right?” He gently thumbed her belly, silently hoping he’d get to feel a kick. “Have you thought of names?”
“I’m sure you already have something in mind.”
“If it's a boy, I was thinking Wilbur”, he suggested, “and for a girl, how about Rosie?”
“Sure”, she shrugged. “Those sound fine.”
“You don’t sound that excited about either.”
“...I’m tired, Philza”, she sighed.
“Of course. You’re working so hard. I’m proud of you.” He wished he could press a kiss on her belly, but he knew she’d hate that.
~
Philza paced, back and forth, back and forth. He was not allowed in the delivery room, not for a moment. As much as he wanted to respect Samantha’s wishes, he couldn’t help but feel frustrated. It was his baby too.
“Your highness?”
Philza snapped to attention. A nurse was standing in the doorway.
“It’s a boy.”
“He has your eyes.”
The bundle in his arms was both the smallest thing in the universe, yet still the heaviest. Or maybe it was just his heart.
His cheeks hurt from smiling too much. “Do you want to hold him?” He offered the bundle towards Samantha, lying in bed, hair astray.
Without looking, she pushed it back towards Philza. “I’ve been carrying him for nine months. It’s your turn now.”
Philza nodded, eager. Carefully, he pushed back the cloth, and pressed a kiss on the baby’s forehead. His baby. His son. His Wilbur.
~
“Phil, I need to tell you something.” Samantha looked worried.
Philza looked up from the toy soldiers he’s been helping Wilbur arrange. “Sure, what’s up?”
“Alone.” She gave Wilbur a meaningful glance.
“Hey mate”, Philza said to his boy conspiratorially. “You know what would be really cool?”
“What?” Wilbur asked.
“If we built a fort for your revolutionaries to conquer.” Philza nodded towards the door. “Why don’t you go fetch your old blocks?”
Wilbur’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Yeah!” He rushed to his feet and scampered off.
Philza rose from the floor so he could settle on the couch next to Samantha. “Okay, what’s up?”
She wrung her hands together. “I tried to be careful, but… I think I’m pregnant.”
Philza’s stomach dropped.
“...By who?”
“Phil, you said you wouldn’t- He’s-”
“And I don’t care, Sam, I truly don’t”, Philza interrupted fervently, “but is the kid gonna look like me at all?”
“Oh.” She gave a small, relieved smile. “It should. It’s not not going to look like you.”
“Have you told the father?”
Samantha shook her head.
“Do you think he’ll want to be involved?”
She shook her head again.
“Okay.” Philza ran his hands through his hair. “Okay. I can work with this. We’re gonna be okay. It’s… It’s gonna be okay.”
~
“Another healthy baby boy”, the nurse announced. “Congratulations, your highness. He looks just like you.”
Bright blue eyes and a tuft of blond hair. “Hi”, Philza whispered. “Hi, Tommy. I’m your daddy.”
Philza quickly found he could not give a flying fuck about the man who’d sired the child in his arms. If he didn’t want to be involved, that was his loss. Philza would gladly take his place.
“He’s going to be a handful, that one”, a midwife remarked.
“Is that so?” Philza nuzzled Tommy’s cheek. “You’re going to be a fussy little critter, are you? Make a lot of noise?”
The baby squalled.
Philza’s eyes drifted to Samantha, lying on the bed with her eyes closed, breath shallow. She didn’t stir, no matter how loudly Tommy cried.
“Oh, I know, I know”, Philza murmured as the baby continued to fuss. “But mommy is tired. We’ll let her rest.”
~
A dark stone, name and dates in gilded letters. Tommy held to his chest with one arm, the other holding Wilbur’s little hand.
“Why did she have to go?” Wilbur asked quietly.
“Her body was very, very tired.” Philza squeezed Wilbur’s hand. “And now she’ll rest.”
~
“Dad, hurry up!” Wilbur shouted from ahead the forest trail.
“Calm down”, Philza placated. “Tommy has tubby little legs, he can't walk that fast.”
“Nooo!” Tommy whined, shuffling his steps as he trotted alongside Philza, small fingers holding onto his thumb.
“No? You’re not little?” Philza teased.
“Big”, Tommy said seriously.
“Dad?” Wilbur had stopped in the middle of the trail. “Do you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
There, faint yet distinct, heart wrenching on a primal level. A keening sound, a stuttered choking.
A baby’s cry.
Without thought, Philza picked Tommy up and rushed forward, Wilbur just ahead of him as they both followed the sound. A bend in the trail, and there it was: an old yellow cardboard box, wails and sobs emanating from within.
Philza put Tommy on the ground, next to Wilbur. “Stay here. Watch your brother”, he said as he approached.
A mess of dirty hair, eyes glistening with tears. A boy, close to Tommy’s age, was now staring at him in shock.
“Hey”, Philza said gently as he crouched down by the box. “Are you hurt?”
The child stared.
“Are you all by yourself?” Philza asked. “Where’s Mommy? Daddy?”
Quivering lip, hands balled into fists, and the child began to wail again. Before he’d even realised he’d done it, Philza picked the boy up and shushed him, rocking him in his arms.
“It’s okay. It’s all gonna be okay. We’re gonna take you somewhere safe and warm now.”
~
“Is Tubbo going to stay with us?” Wilbur asked quietly, watching from his perch on the couch as the two younger boys played with blocks.
After some food, a bath, and a good night's sleep, the boy from the forest had dared to reveal his name. He was a reserved child, hiding behind Philza’s legs if other adults tried to talk with him. With that in mind, Philza had been surprised how quickly Tubbo had warmed up to Tommy and Wilbur.
“I’m not sure”, Philza said. “Would you like that?”
Wilbur shrugged. “Tommy would.”
“Would you want him not to stay?” Philza asked. “It’s okay if you don’t. But if he’s Tommy’s brother, he’ll be your brother too.”
Wilbur looked at the two others on the floor, lost to the world. Tubbo was building a tower, and Tommy a wall around it.
“It’s okay if he stays”, he said eventually. “He’s less annoying than Tommy, and Tommy’s not going anywhere, so Tubbo should get to stay too.”
Philza chuckled. “You rascal”, he said, ruffling Wilbur’s curly brown hair. Even as the boy complained and pushed Philza’s hand away, he could see the dark brown eyes gleaming with delight.