Lord Slytherin's Sun and Moon
Althaia knew that her life had begun to improve.
Mother Magic recognized her as a New Blood when her brush of magic and blood appeared in her hands, and only one wizard was worthy of that right.
Five years have passed since that event. After her bonding, it only took a few months for her belly to swell for the heir she would give to her husband.
It was a boy with strong lungs and dark hair whom Salazar called Prometheus—named after the titan who deceived the gods and delivered fire to humanity thanks to his cunning.
The years passed, and her little boy continued to grow, and the threat of the hunters was the same.
She heard that the Blacks had a daughter who lacked magic, but possessed bountiful beauty. The girl was clever and mixed in the Muggle courts. She seduced, manipulated, and poisoned those who financed the hunts. She then married an earl who worshiped magic, making her fortress a point for the newly hatched Hogwarts to keep magically blessed children away from danger.
Althaia befriended Rowena.
Secrets were confessed.
The most painful on Rowena's part, before her precious Helena, her womb protected four previous babies who came into this world without tears, with white skin and blue lips. When she was finally able to deliver a live baby girl, her face red from the effort, her husband had tried to kill them both for a manipulable young girl.
"We must first get through the storm before seeing the sun, my dear Rowena."
"You gave birth to a healthy heir for Salazar."
"I had my own storm."
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After three years, Althaia became pregnant again.
She felt Rowena's icy blue eyes look at her belly with envy.
Salazar was happy with the news of another baby.
"May the magic mother bless us with another son."
"I would like a girl," He said with his hand on her belly.
"A girl?" Althaia questioned.
"One that is beautiful like you."
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It was at dawn on the winter solstice when Althaia went into labor. Salazar was dragged out of the room by Rowena and Helga.
He stayed listening to his wife's screams and felt how her magic became heavy. Finally, after hours and hours, the dark sky of early morning was gradually becoming clearer.
He looked out the window as the moon was still high in the sky. Then, as the sun rose on the horizon, he heard crying.
After minutes of uncertainty where the sounds of the two witches congratulating Althaia were heard, Salazar was able to enter.
His lady was disheveled, with sweat on her face and red cheeks from the effort of childbirth. She was propped up by pillows, and clinging to her chest was a little thing wrapped in a rune-embroidered blanket.
Rowena and Helga left them alone.
"It's a girl, my lord." Althaia told him with a huge smile.
Salazar sat next to him. His daughter. He had a daughter. A little thing with a blood-red fluff, still a little swollen from coming into the world. But in Salazar's eyes, she was beautiful.
"What shall we call her, my lord?"
"Rhea." Salazar smiled as he saw how his daughter left Althaia. The baby was passed onto his arm. "Rhea Slytherin."
Lord Slytherin looked out the window, and the moon was still watching while the sun was already shining.
"My sun and my moon," He said, looking at the sleeping baby. "My beautiful Rhea."
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Salazar fell to his knees next to the wagon. His daughter, his treasure, was dead and holding a baby.
He heard Althaia's screams of pain behind him, but he could not comfort her as he himself was breaking down.
The hair that she brushed and cared for so much was short, her flushed cheeks were pale, and that warmth that her magic emanated was gone.
Rhea was nothing more than a simple corpse.