Compassion

Eric was awoken to the sounds of thunder and a baby's cries.

He glanced over at his wife. Ariel was curled up on her side of the large bed, out cold and completely oblivious to the noises around her. Though a deep sleeper, exciting thunder and Melody's cried usually were able to wake her, but not that night.

Though tired, Eric smiled. She had been tired lately, and it was good to see her resting well.

The father then threw back the covers and made his way over to Melody's bassinet. In it he found the child wailing at the top of her lungs, also woken by the loud thunder. Her fussy arms were outstretched in front of her, begging to be picked up, and her hands were balled into fists, fingers wrapped around the ends of the long sleeves to her nightgown.

"Shh…" Eric hushed as he picked Melody up. He bounced her gently as he held her close to his chest. Melody's cries lessened into mere whimpers as she was held by her father.

"There, there," he comforted, wiping her tears away with his thumb. "It's just a storm. It can't hurt you as long as you're safe inside."

He glanced back at his wife, still sleeping soundly. Eric was glad he was able to quiet their child before she had the chance to wake her mother. He wanted Ariel to get a good night's sleep. Unfortunately, he was able to control his daughter, but not the weather. Outside the storm raged on, and another rumble of thunder causes Melody to stir in his arms.

Eric held her closer, continuing to provide comfort and protection. Looking out the window he saw a strike of lightning. It was obvious Melody would not fall back asleep until the storm passed. At least he liked a good thunderstorm.

Taking Melody with him, he pulled the rocking chair over to the window and took a seat. Melody quickly adjusted to the new position in her father's arms and smiled up at him as he rocked in the chair and hummed a soft tune.

Though the storm raged on, Eric looked down to find his daughter back asleep, feeling safe in her father's arms. Still, he remained seated to watch the storm, and each time he looked down at the sleeping child in his arms, he was overcome by the love he felt for her. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for her.

He then recalled the months leading up to her birth. At first, he was overjoyed at the prospect of becoming a father. But then, in the weeks before Melody's birth, Eric grew overwhelmed by the anxieties of becoming a father.

Would he even make a good father? His own father had died just after his eighth birthday, and his mother died even earlier, so Eric's memories of parental love was limited. The ones that existed of his father only reminded Eric he was born to a terrible father, providing almost no guidance as to how to be a good father.

His father was strict and cruel. He lacked compassion, warmth, and the concept of love. Eric remembered being yelled at for the slightest mistakes. It seemed his father's only concern was grooming Eric to be a powerful king one day, often forgetting he was just a child and his son.

Eric figured he was about four during his most prominent early childhood memory of his father. He had spent the morning with his governess learning proper manners, and after lunch found himself bored of learning, only wishing to play. Immediately after eating, Eric succeeded in slipping away from his nanny's sight.

He thought nothing of it at that moment. He didn't think of how his nanny would quickly discover his disappearance and worriedly alert the rest of the castle staff to be on the lookout for the boy. Eric was only concerned with searching all the rooms for something he could pretend to be a sword (because the guards would never let him play with the real ones) and something to be an eye patch so he could play pirate. He planned his bed to be his ship and his stuffed animals to be his crew members.

At that time, he thought nothing of the stares and whispers from the surrounding staff as he wandered the halls looking for items to play pretend with. Eric simply smiled and waved at anyone who caught his attention.

He had only wandered a little ways from the dining hall when he chose a room to look for supplies. Eric was still unaware it wouldn't be hard for him to be found―until he heard his father's booming voice.

"Eric!" he called out as he entered the room followed by Eric's mother. "What do you think you're doing?!"

Though his father sounded angry and startled him greatly, Eric replied truthfully, "I was going to play pirate."

Eric then smiled as an idea entered his mind. He held out a piece of cloth towards his father. He always seemed angry and needed to have fun. His mother always told Eric he was good at cheering her up.

"You can use this as an eye patch and play, too!" Eric exclaimed.

His father ripped the cloth out of Eric's hand and threw it on the ground. "First, you run away from your nanny, then I find you playing pretend instead of attending your lessons, playing pirate, no less. You are a prince, not a thief of the high sea!"

Eric took a few steps back from his violent father as he grew fearful. He was only trying to make his father happy. Eric looked past his father at his mother. The sympathetic look on her face urged him that everything would be alright; his scolding would be over soon.

She then spoke up. "He's just a child, Frederick. He doesn't-"

"Shut up, Marie!" the king shot back at his wife.

"I'm sorry, father," Eric quickly offered, startled by his father's loud outburst. He had learned that when he angered his father, it was best to apologize and be on his best behavior again. Then his father didn't hate him as much.

But his father shook his head at the apology. He kneeled before Eric, taking a firm, almost painful, hold of his shoulders. "Eric, I ask little of you. I only ask you learn how to behave properly around this castle. Making the staff cease their duties to find you and choosing to play pirate is unacceptable. You will not do this again. Am I clear?"

Eric nodded. Tears had formed in his eyes, but they had yet to roll down his cheeks. He knew his father would scold him for crying. Princes don't cry over foolish things, his father always said.

"Good," his father stood back up and roughly shoved Eric to his mother, telling her as he passed, "Watch him. I have a nanny to fire."

All she could do was nod in agreement, though she liked the current nanny. She then kneeled down and picked Eric up. "It's okay, sweetie. Mama's got you."

Eric gripped onto her tight, burying his head in her shoulder as he let himself finally cry knowing his father was gone and he was only surrounded by his mother's warmth.

"I'll cheer you up, darling," she offered, soothingly rubbing his back as she carried him to his room.

Upon entering Eric's room, his mother first made her way over to the nightstand to grab the book laying on top. She then took a seat on his bed, placing the book to her side and adjusting Eric in her lap. Even safe in his room away from his father's wrath he clung to his mother, burying his face into her dress.

"It's alright," she comforted him, gently rubbing his back. His mother then brought his face to look up at her. Wiping away his tears she said, "You're alright now."

Eric weakly nodded. He had calmed down a little at her gentle touch, but he still felt another tear roll down his cheek and let out a whimper. Quietly, filled with guilt, he said, "I'm sorry, Mama."

"You don't have to be sorry about anything. I'm not mad at you," his mother told him. "I know you were just trying to have fun, but you're still little. You can't wander away on your own just yet. Still, your father has an unacceptable temper."

She then reached alongside her, picking up the book. Nursery Rhymes was its title. Beginning to look for the page she wanted, she smiled at Eric. "This should cheer my little sailor up."

Though Eric couldn't read yet, when she arrived at the page, a smiled beamed off his face. He knew she was going to sing his favorite.

Bobby Shafto's tall and slim,

He always dressed so neat and trim;

The ladies they all kick at him,

Bonny Bobby Shafto.

Bobby Shafto's gettin' a bairn,

For to dangle on his arm;

In his arm and on his knee,

Bobby Shafto loves me.

When she finished singing, Eric planted a kiss on her cheek. "Thank you, Mama. I love your singing."

"Do you want another one?" she asked, flipping through the pages.

He shook his head. "No. I want to play pirate…with you!"

His mother was one of the only sources of comfort and compassion Eric felt as a young child, aside from a few of his nannies and Carlotta, his mother's closet ally and friend in the castle. Almost everyone else was terrified of disobeying their king.

It was just a few months after that prominent memory when his parents informed him his mother was pregnant. Eric recalled being more than excited to become a big brother. Some days, that was all he wanted to talk about with his mother.

She was resting in bed one morning, about two months before the baby was due, and Eric vowed to keep his mother company. It seemed she had spent countless days on bed rest, too tired to do much.

Eric rubbed her large belly. "I can't wait to meet you, baby."

His mother smiled at his enthusiasm. "I'm sure the baby can't wait to meet you, too."

Eric then took his hand off her stomach. "Do you think I'll be a good big brother? I've never been a big brother before?

"Honey, you will make the best big brother ever," she told him.

"Are you sure?" he inquired further, uncertain.

"I have no doubt in my mind. You want to know why?"

He eagerly shook his head. If anyone would know why he would make a good big brother, it would be his mother.

"Because you are the sweetest boy out there. You have such a kind and caring heart. I know you'll love this baby unconditionally. Sometimes I wonder how you could be your father's son. And listen here. You are so strong and brave. Your father can be a cruel man, yet you still want to give kindness. Don't let your father change that about you," she urged with watery eyes. "Compassion is much more important than he thinks. No matter what he says as he prepares you to become king, remember to be kind, not only to your baby sibling, but to your people, and you'll make a great king, too. Can you promise me that?"

"I promise, Mama," Eric nodded. He then moved back to her stomach. "And I promise I'll learn to be a good big brother, little baby."

But he would never get to be a big brother. The baby came weeks before his mother said it should. Eric recalled he was in a lesson that reiterated princely behavior with his governess when he heard the news. It had caused quite a stir within the castle. He wanted to be with his mother, but his nanny came and took him to the other side of the castle, which he would later realize was to keep him from hearing his mother's pain filled screams.

His father should have been the one to deliver him the news, but Eric didn't see him for days following the birth. Instead it was Carlotta who told him.

She took him to his room so they could speak in private, and she sat him on her lap, barely holding back tears herself. In fact, it was obvious to Eric she had been crying a lot.

"Is the new baby here? Can I see the baby and Mama now?" Eric still asked even though he sensed something bad had happened.

Carlotta shook her head. "Eric, honey. Do you remember when we had that conversation about angels a few weeks ago? Well...um...your mother and baby sister had to go join them."

"Why… why couldn't they stay here?" he asked, growing confused as to why the baby would want to leave as soon as she arrived. Didn't his baby sister know he would love her even though she wasn't a boy?

"They didn't want to go, sweetie. They had to," Carlotta responded. "You see, having a baby is hard, and...um...sometimes the mother and baby don't make it, especially when the baby comes early."

Tears formed in Eric's eyes. "I won't see Mama again?"

Carlotta pulled him close. "I'm sorry, Eric, but she will always be watching over you from Heaven."

At that time, Eric was angry with his baby sister. Why did she have to be so selfish and take his mother away from him? Did she not know he would be a good big brother? As he got older, Eric let go a lot of the angry surrounding his mother's death as he learned the complications of giving birth. It was not his sister's fault, but that never healed the hole in his heart.

Carlotta quickly took over playing the motherly figure in his life. She was just as good as a mother; she was very caring, kind, and sure did know appropriate discipline, but she was not his mother. Though he loved Carlotta with all his heart, he still longed for his mother's comforting touch and songs again.

He always remembered the promise he made to his mother about becoming a compassionate ruler. Eric looked forward to keep that promise and helping his citizens. His reign would be nothing like his father's.

Eric's father had turned bitter following the death of his wife and baby. Though his father hardly showed much affection towards his wife, he must have felt something for her, or maybe he was just angry at her for leaving him to deal with both their deaths. It didn't help the country grow more powerful.

As he grew older, Eric paid more attention to words spoken around the castle and in the town. Many disliked his father's rule. They called him harsh and uncaring, only caring about his own power and wealth, not the lives of his citizens. Eric even heard of a massacre in the outskirts, ordered by his father. Many innocent were killed, and those who survived called his father a monster.

The people wished for his reign to end, but there was nothing they could do. But one day, just after Eric's eighth birthday, nature ran its course, and his father fell terribly ill with pneumonia. The doctor quickly came, but Eric's father only got worse as the days went by, and it became clear that nothing could be done to save the king.

Eric had just finished up with his tutors for the evening when he was summoned to his father's room. The doctor had told him himself his father's outlook was grim, and Eric assumed the end was near.

He cautiously entered the room, unsure of how his father would act on his deathbed. To Eric's surprise, he smiled at him, motioning for him to come closer. "Come here, my son."

Eric obeyed and walked up to his father's bed. Throughout his whole life Eric had never seen his father looking as weak as he appeared that day. His face was pale as a ghost and his eyes looked tired. After seeing this sight, Eric no longer felt intimidated by his father.

"Eric, I know I have treated you harshly, but I hope you understand why. Before you know it, you will be taking the crown. The people will be trying to walk all over you, but you won't let them. You will be a firm ruler. Let the people fear you, and they will not disobey you. If you take all I have given you, you will be an even more powerful king than I," his father said between coughs. "I hope you will listen to me."

"I will, Father," Eric replied, but his mother's voice still rang in his head. He understood he could not be a soft ruler. Firmness had to be applied to keep the kingdom running straight, but his mother taught him the power of compassion when it was needed.

His father continued on. "I am sorry to have to leave you. I had hoped to continue teaching you my words and wisdoms, but all things come to an end I suppose. Grimsby will take over guiding you. Please listen to him."

"Yes, Father."

"I won't keep you here, my son. I can't have my only heir getting sick. God knows these doctors are incapable of doing anything."

"Thank you," Eric offered before leaving. It would be the last time he saw his father alive.

He paced around the castle for much of the afternoon, musing over his father's words. His father had hardly been a loving parent, but he felt bad not missing his father much. Though often harsh to him, Eric respected his father to an extent. He was his father after all.

Perhaps what upset him most was the fact that Eric would be an orphan. It was a label no child wanted. But Eric knew he was better off than other orphaned children. He was not wandering the streets begging for food. Carlotta and Grimsby already took great care of him when he had no parents to turn too, and the castle guards took a liking to him, too. Even the sailors liked when he visited them at the dock and then took great joy indulging him in his love for the sea and sailing.

The next morning Eric received the news that his father had passed. He was free from his harshness, but still felt as though he should mourn his father, which he did. All in all, though, Eric only knew he missed his mother.

Eric couldn't say he didn't learn anything about being king from his father. Though many frowned upon his father's infamous reign, he realized his father knew much about the ins and outs of being king. As Eric picked up more training in preparation for taking the crown, he felt as though his father had actually taught him a lot about the role. He often found himself thinking back on some of his lessons with his father, recalling them in times of need.

Eric also learned how to not be as a king. He never disagreed with anyone that his father was a terrible ruler who hardly thought of his own people than power. However, after inquiring from many people their opinions of his father, he vowed to do the opposite of his father and respect the people's opinions.

Though Eric could find reason to feel confident as king thanks to his father, he didn't feel he learned anything about being a father, except that he knew he wanted to have compassion. He wanted his daughter to love him, not fear him.

And that's what Grimsby and even Triton told him when he inquired about being a father. You start with love and compassion and go from there. There were no lessons to become a father unlike becoming a king.

So Eric took it step by step, and when he held his daughter for the first time, he knew it would not be hard to love her. As for the other roles that came with being a father, Eric listened to the advice and wisdom from others, and it all came naturally.

He looked down at his daughter in his arms. Yeah, it did come naturally. He managed to keep his daughter healthy and safe. Despite the storm, she was happy, and she even seemed to love him when she would smile up at him. While holding her in his arms, Eric often wondered why he worried so much about becoming a father. He was not his father by any means.

Outside the rain had died down and the thunder and lightning had ceased. Eric let out a yawn and determined it was time to put Melody back down and get some sleep himself. He walked slowly to the bassinet, careful not to wake her up again.

Eric gently laid her down. She smiled in her sleep as her father kissed her forehead. He then took one last look at his sleeping daughter before going back to his bed, assured she would feel safe and have sweet dreams the rest of the night.

As he climbed into bed his attention turned to his wife. Still asleep, she had rolled onto her other side facing him. Eric moved Ariel's hair out of her face to plant a kiss on her cheek. She hardly stirred. Only her eyebrows scrunched up a bit, as if she was trying to make sense of her dreams.

He laid back in bed and stared up at the ceiling. Ariel had begun to seem off in the past few months, as if something was wrong, but Eric didn't know what. Though tired and often moody and gloomy, Ariel insisted she was fine, and everyone chalked it up to her being a new mother and having just given up connection with her family.

But Eric was her husband, and he knew something was wrong, he just didn't know what. All he knew was that he was going to be keeping an eye on her, which was more than what his father would have done for his mother. Still, Eric yearned to do more.

At the end of the day, Eric was doing all he could. He was loving and protecting both his girls, trying to be the best husband and father he could be, and he felt honored at having the chance to do so.