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intheheartTitle: Poppet
Rating: G
Summary: Nathan and his children.
Notes: It's been too long. Have some pirates.
He was uncertain with the baby at first. Emma rolled her eyes at him and bustled about, adjusting his hold, the angle of the rough bottle, the folds of the nappies. Even Davy thought him incompetent, and, well, he was.
But the boy looked up at him with solemn grey eyes, huge and thoughtful. The same color as his mother's eyes, but—a different shape, perhaps, a different emotion. Trust, where Melanie had only looked at him with sorrow.
He made the boy a doll to chew on, a little straw poppet to dandle. He would not disappoint his son.
--
With Ivy he was much more experienced, and yet still terrified. It was difficult at first to believe that she was his—not because he had not fathered her, but because he still could not quite believe that her mother had accepted him, had wedded him, even now lay sleeping in their shared bed.
She did not look at him as Aaron had, full of trust. She was fierce, copper-haired and combative, his squalling little warrior. She would not need his protection.
She did need his love, this child of his heart. And she had that, in abundance, for always.
--
He had little time for Summer, in the first days of her life. The fight to save her mother took his attention, and so when he first held her she was nearly a week old.
She was so small still. Smaller than either Ivy or Aaron had been, more fragile too, with translucent white skin and a tracery of pale blue veins. She and her mother had both nearly died but both of them lived still, frail and precious and his.
He did not know yet what Summer would need from him.
He did know that it was hers already.
Rating: G
Summary: Nathan and his children.
Notes: It's been too long. Have some pirates.
He was uncertain with the baby at first. Emma rolled her eyes at him and bustled about, adjusting his hold, the angle of the rough bottle, the folds of the nappies. Even Davy thought him incompetent, and, well, he was.
But the boy looked up at him with solemn grey eyes, huge and thoughtful. The same color as his mother's eyes, but—a different shape, perhaps, a different emotion. Trust, where Melanie had only looked at him with sorrow.
He made the boy a doll to chew on, a little straw poppet to dandle. He would not disappoint his son.
--
With Ivy he was much more experienced, and yet still terrified. It was difficult at first to believe that she was his—not because he had not fathered her, but because he still could not quite believe that her mother had accepted him, had wedded him, even now lay sleeping in their shared bed.
She did not look at him as Aaron had, full of trust. She was fierce, copper-haired and combative, his squalling little warrior. She would not need his protection.
She did need his love, this child of his heart. And she had that, in abundance, for always.
--
He had little time for Summer, in the first days of her life. The fight to save her mother took his attention, and so when he first held her she was nearly a week old.
She was so small still. Smaller than either Ivy or Aaron had been, more fragile too, with translucent white skin and a tracery of pale blue veins. She and her mother had both nearly died but both of them lived still, frail and precious and his.
He did not know yet what Summer would need from him.
He did know that it was hers already.
