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Writing Prompt - A Mothers’ Eyes
"Thor has scarcely begun to walk!" I protested. Looking after my little prince was exhausting. I could have let the nursemaids do most of the work, but I refused. Thor was my child, I would care for him myself. The fatigue at the end of each day, the worry, was well worth the joy in the little one’s face when he saw me.
"Thor will benefit from having a brother. Someone who will be loyal to him above all others."
I did not like what I saw in my husband’s eyes. There was something more to this than he was telling me.
"And why plan to lie to him? Why not tell him that you rescued him out of pity, that he owes his life to your kindness? Will that not indebt him just as surely as believing he is your son? Let someone else from the court raise him. He can still be a companion to Thor."
"He must grow up in the House of Odin. He must never feel that he is not a part of it."
Before I could protest, he thrust the infant, wrapped in the rough green cloth worn by the Jotnar, into my unwilling arms.
"He is our son now."
The baby started to cry at the brusque handling. A year of motherhood had me reacting without thought; I began to rock him and hum as I did when Thor fussed, and as I did I looked at him for the first time.
After only a few seconds the baby stopped crying and looked at me, and smiled. And I knew that I had lost this battle. He was my son from that moment on.