A/N: This is it, folks. Final chapter. I already have another story written about the Fairy Godmother, so look for to be uploading soon. But as for this story....this is it (finally)! Hope you all enjoyed! Sorry it's taken me so long to finish! Again, I'm sorry this chapter is so short; it's sort of an epilogue, anyway. Thanks so much to ALL of you who have been reviewing and keeping up with this story; all your comments are very much appreciated!
All the employees connected with the potion business had been dismissed for the day, leaving only the midwife and the Fairy Godmother herself in the upstairs portion of the cottage, which remained entirely as her own private rooms. None of the workers had questioned why they were getting the day off; those that knew about their employer's condition were smart enough to keep mum about it, and those who weren't in contact with her enough to know just relished the day of freedom. It was a good thing everyone was gone: screams and snarled insults had been audibly drifting out of the windows for a good part of the day.
For the past few months, the now official Fairy Godmother of Far Far Away had been careful to conceal her pregnancy as best she could, and if anyone did notice, they certainly didn't say anything about it, either out of politeness or fear of her new found power. Most of her communication had been done by crystal ball, when possible; she hadn't even seen Harold in person since the ceremony where she had been given her title, which had been a few weeks after his marriage to Lillian. She hadn't even mentioned that she was going to have a child to him; it was her affair, and she would take care of things in private. Now, wracked with pain like she had never known, all she wanted was to be rid of what she considered a parasite and a threat to her job security. And to wring the neck of the annoyingly sweet and sympathetic midwife, who was bearing the brunt of the insults being yelled loud enough to be heard in the surrounding forest. The birds in the nearby trees simply looked at one another before flying off to a more peaceful section of woodland.
There was one final scream of a woman, then the next noise heard was the cry of a child.
"It's a boy!" the midwife crowed proudly, as though she was the one who had done all the work. There was no reply from the new mother; she simply looked on with an exhausted, sour look upon her face as the child was cleaned up and wrapped in a blanket. She was about to ask that the midwife just take the baby and leave, but before she could open her mouth, the other woman cooed, "Oh, how perfectly charming," and placed the baby into his mother's arms.
Immediately, she was overwhelmed with awe of the miniature perfection of the child she held. The rosy red lips in the wrinkled little face, the faint traces of blond hair on the head that seemed too large for the rest of his small body. As she looked down at him, he blinked his eyes open, revealing them to be a blue that was no doubt his father's. "Charming," she echoed in a murmur as he gurgled and cooed in her arms, and she could have sworn that he gave a smile of approval. In that moment, she knew she couldn't possibly give him up.
The memory of her earlier pain and fury at having to bring what she had considered to be a mistake into the world dissipated as mother and son beheld one another, and she couldn't keep a soft, tender smile from creeping wearily onto her features. It would become a smile that was reserved only for him; all the smiles she saved for clients were very well painted on facades, and none of them could ever reach her eyes. But this smile was for him and him alone. In the one moment of their first meeting, he had captured her heart, and that part of her would be lost forever to the little boy. Her little boy. In one moment, all thoughts of sending him off to be adopted by who knows what kind of people fled from her mind. She vowed then and there that he was going to grow up to be a proper prince, father or no father, title or no title, and he was going to have the very best of everything no matter what she had to do to obtain it. For the first time in the months since she had lost Frederick, she was able to really care for another human being again. It gave her a new ambition...a new reason for living.
She carefully placed her index finger in the palm of his tiny hand, and his fingers closed around hers tightly, causing her to smile again. The midwife's description of the newborn came back to her, and she realized how very fitting the word was. He couldn't possibly be given any other name, and so she whispered it to him with a trace of tears in her eyes.