Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The rising sun perched high above the Asim estate, its scorching rays casting a foreboding presence, grasping at everything it desires. The oppressive humid air hung heavy and thick, making every breath laborious. In fact—it has been like this for a while now, to the point that anyone who dared to make a careless mistake could have fainted (or received a harsh scolding). 

This morning, a new Asim is arriving soon. The next heir that will hold the suffocating weight of the Asim name.

Servants and midwives rushed and whispered about, close and even distant relatives have traveled from sevens who knows where—graciously descended to the estate, convinced their (unneeded) presence would ‘mediate’ this oh so significant occasion. Najma Viper, who was wearing a lightweight, dark-colored servant's uniform stood by the children's wing’s entrance with her arms crossed over her chest, eyes surveying every movement made by the younger servants while the more trained ones moved with grace—her silent authority cutting through the scenic chaos like her old man. On the other side of the hall were Kalim’s youngest siblings, around ten years old, gathering and betting on the baby's weight.

“Hmmm, three kilos!” Declared the first one with full confidence.

“No, four! Have you seen big brother Kalim’s appetite recently!”

“Wrong answers,” Najma interjected, “Any newborns that have the Viper blood are deceptively small.” They all stopped, exchanging looks back at each other nonstop.

“Whoa. Scary.”

She smiled slightly. Next to her, Madam Amira, Kalim’s birth mother clasped her hands together, her golden bracelets jingling together as she muttered prayers in a light breath, her face tense with worry.

“Najma, dear?” She paused before raising her head, “Are you sure my son is going to be alright? The contractions started early for a first pregnancy… Oh my sevens, what if-”

“Ma’am, he’s fine,” Najma interrupted before another word came out. “He’s survived things a lot worse. There is no way a dud–your son… Wouldn’t come out with smiles  and a healthy baby.” She said while looking at the first wife, patting her own back in her head for that close slip-up.

“Yes, yes, that is very true, but he’s in labor!”

From the other side of the entrance a yelp so loud even the palace guards stationed close straightened in alarm.

Najma raised a brow, “… Ah, that one was from Jamil.”

Hours later, the delivery room was filled with restless anticipation. The midwives scurrying and exchanging looks as the current head of the family sat propped like a precious artifact on cushions, glowing with sweat and tears, hair disheveled, and a hopeful expression despite the uneasiness.

“A-almost there!” Kalim squeezed his husband's hands, fingers digging into skin as tears rolled down his tired face.

“I know, j-just a little more,” Jamil reassured, as he intertwined with the other, comforting yet anxious.

Suddenly—a cry.

A sharp painful wail pierced through the air, quick and desperate, like sudden rain pouring in the desert. Kalim sagged back, on the verge of fainting while he tried to steady his breathing. Jamil froze, almost as if a weight of a thousand pounds settled upon him.

What if his baby ends up dead by night?

What if his baby grows up to be like him?

What if he fails to protect him?

He knows he shouldn’t be thinking these things, especially not right now, when his son had just been born but…

The midwife turned to them, smiling as she held up the newborn wrapped in soft turquoise cloth, “It’s a healthy baby boy.”

“Khalif…” Kalim whispered, cradling his son with great care. “Hi, little one…”

Jamil sat silently at his side, stunned to the point of being unable to speak as tears streaked down his cheeks. A perfect blend. Their son.

He’ll make sure his baby is going to outlive him.

He’ll make sure he grows into a fine young man.

He’ll protect him from whatever this wretched world throws at him.

Especially after painfully convincing the Asims and the Vipers to finally let him and Kalim marry. It’s never a waste. 

“He’s beautiful,” Jamil whispered hoarsely. “You—you did well.”

“Aww, is that it? How about a kiss?” A faint, playful giggle slipped through the Asim’s lips.

“Of course,” Jamil said softly, leaning over and placing a tender kiss on his beloved’s head.

That night, long after the estate retired for the night and all the family members had finally gone to sleep, Jamil sat beside Kalim on a cushioned chair, watching the tiny bundle wrapped securely in his husband's arms. For this peculiar birth of the next heir, no one was permitted to enter the room other than the baby's parents and midwives. In fear of potential threats, magic barriers and sensors littered the room, making sure anyone who even dared to enter the room unpermitted would come out with a severe punishment.

“You should rest,” Jamil muttered, standing up to grab another silky pillow to support Kalim’s head.

“You too—did you see yourself out there! I'm surprised Mom didn't start a scene,” the silver-haired remarked, tilting his head to help maneuver the pillow, “What I'm even more surprised of, you didn't crack under her demands! Well, a-also dads…” 

“Najma was almost on par with them… Ugh,” Jamil sighed. 

Earlier in the day, when it was announced that no one was allowed unpermitted until the next sunrise, chaos soon followed. Relatives and cousins scrambled to talk to Jamil, pitching all sorts of fruitless reasons and pleas to see the next heir. All of them were ultimately turned down.

“Jamil?” Kalim reached for Jamil’s hand, softly caressing his rough knuckles.

“Yes, what is it now?”

“… Thank you for coming home.” 

Jamil stiffened, sighing before answering back, “You're still on about that–damn it's been a year already.” 

“It's just… Never thought you'd say yes. Not after everything.”

The Viper swallowed. His voice went even softer, “Kalim—you seriously think there was going to be someone else? Wow. Is that what you think of your own husband?” He faintly chuckled, voice tinged with amusement at the end.

“A-ah, no way!!” Kalim hurriedly bit back, “Just forget what I said!”

The baby stirred in response, his face becoming all adorably puffy. 

“Hahh, so fussy. Just like his father.” The Asim muttered, face cooing as he let his son wrap his tiny hands around his fingers.

“Which one?”

“Obviously you!”

The couple bickered quietly all night while their little prince slept as peacefully as he could. In the end, both of them came to the same conclusion, their little heir was a sign of change.

Chapter Text

The day baby Khalif would be fully presented to both families, the palace was anything but serene—calling it loud was clearly an understatement. The celebration was at its peak, echoing through the grand halls that were adorned with intricate paintings and lavish chandeliers. Kalim wore a simple, cream-colored robe made of fine silk, accessorized with minimal jewelry and his wedding ring. He handled the tiny swaddled bundle with utmost care, as if protecting a tiny treasure. Jamil stayed close to his side, frame stiff and sleep-deprived, trying his damn hardest not to let unwelcomed guests touch his delicate son. Maybe another barrier will do? Or should he contact Shroud to make a special device to set anyone foolish enough to touch him on fire? He'd have to consult with Kalim and the former Master for this.

A whole whirlwind of thoughts and situations ran through his head, what if an assassination happens right now? No way. The security measures in the children's wing were formidable—some of the most advanced magical barriers and sensors the recovery room had ever seen in a few years. If any assassins step even a foot in their heads would blow up (that's probably a bad idea to begin with… Especially with a baby in the vicinity). He had stayed in touch with Vanrouge for the past couple of weeks to ensure this level of security.

The moment the gold-lined doors swung open, the first visitors permitted were… Jamil’s parents?

“Let me see him—oh, Jamil, he has your eyes!” Exclaimed his mother, her voice trembled with emotion.

“Ah!… Mother, please—gently–“

She scooped Khalif so elegantly into her arms with experienced precision, cradling the tiny baby with gentle motions that even Jamil relaxed his rigid shoulders and erased his furrowed brows.

Kalim, still resting on the cushioned bed, turned his head with curiosity, peeking toward the entrance the best his body could. With a soft voice, he asked, “Mhm? Where’s Mom and Dad?”

“Master Asim is… Reluctantly handling paperwork on your behalf. As well as Madam Amira, she’s currently taking the meeting that was scheduled this morning,” A cold, deep voice replied from behind. It was Jamil’s father, a tall, broad-shouldered man who seemed to have the entire servants' wing in his hands, “It took a hefty amount of ‘encouraging’—the kind your old man hasn’t used on them in years.”

Khalif squirmed in his grandmother’s arms, his tiny fists trying desperately to clasp on to something, “Oh, he is quite beautiful… Look at his face! Look at those adorable cheeks!” She cooed, lifting Khalif’s head gently to admire his features.

Jamil’s father, a man of few words, lingered awkwardly behind her, trying to get a proper look at his grandson. He cleared his throat and fumbled out a remark, “He is… Small.”

“He’s a baby,” Jamil stated calmly, rearranging Kalim’s bedding for the tenth time to ensure his husband is comfortable.

“Right. Yes. Good point.” His father replied.

But as he subtly stole a glance at Khalif’s red, plump cheek, a faint tremor coursed through his hand. He stroked Khalif’s red cheek with a single trembling finger… Face full of pride and longing, he smiled like he had swallowed the sun itself.

Najma had meticulously rehearsed for this special day. She had researched on countless websites and rummaged for old baby care magazines tucked away in that dusty, BUG-FILLED attic (no wonder Jamil was reluctant to join her). She'd even made a baby dummy to properly hold the baby. Dressed in clothes that wouldn't overwhelm the little one’s senses, she was determined to make a good first impression. And finally… How to be cool and ‘sophisticated’ looking while meeting her nephew (like he'd even remember that!?).

All that confidence and effort was thrown out the window when she laid her eyes on that bundle of joy. It was like a rush of serotonin rushed to her brain.

Najma squeaked, her hands shaking so much from the cuteness overload, “He's so SMALL!! Jamil, why is he so SMALL!” Damn it. She could never hold up a poker face ever again.

“Agh… Najma, that's how babies work.” Jamil sighed again for the seventh time that day, this time covering his face with his hands.

Najma cautiously circled around Kalim as if a mere breeze from the winds would topple him and the baby. She slowly and surely stretched out one elegant finger and… Khalif wrapped his entire fist around it. She immediately froze, overwhelmed. Oh my sevens.

“H-he loves me! I'm clearly his favorite!” She exclaimed, a victorious grin spreading across her face.

All Jamil could do was groan as he watched the scene unfold, completely clueless. Kalim cracked up a laugh so hard that his spine began aching again—his husband quickly went to his side. Najma spent the next hour refusing to give Khalif back while the father of the baby was on the verge of kicking her out the door.

When the former master and the first wife returned from their designated work, the entire palace scurried to clear a pathway for them. The Grandmother—regal and commanding—sparkled in elaborate gold embroidery as she swept the estate with glowing pride radiant on her whole face. The grandfather followed closely behind, humming a delighted melody as the gold jewelry on both of their bodies created a symphony that could be heard through the marbled walls. The former master casually tossed a fine array of coconut-filled sweets to the servants as they made their way towards the children’s wing. The grand entrance was thrown wide, revealing a spacious, sublime room where the growing family gathered.

“Kalim, my son. How was it?” His mother asked first, gracefully handling the baby that was on the brink of tears with great poise, she leaned in close and whispered to Khalif, “Welcome, our little sun. May you shine brighter than all of us combined.”

“Well, heh–he was really a fighter! It took all of my strength just to—”

The former master swiftly smacked the back of Kalim’s frame, not too rough but not too soft, just enough to make him choke a bit…

“You did incredible, my boy! Another bright generation of Asims! Just look at him—he's already so handsome!”

“U-uh, yeah—thank you… But uhm, Jamil also–helped!” Kalim stammered, a blush creeping up on his face and ears.

“Oh, I know.” Master Asim said with a wink, before turning his head to Jamil, adding, “And I suppose he’ll help again, yes?”

Jamil started choking on his own saliva.