letitbetrue: (009)
Demelza Poldark ([personal profile] letitbetrue) wrote2016-05-05 03:06 pm
Entry tags:

(june)

It's far too early for the baby to come. Far too early, but it's the middle of the night and Demelza is awake with a pain all the same.

It had begun several hours earlier, before they had even gone to bed, but she hadn't mentioned it to Ross then, seeing little reason to worry him. She had fallen asleep easily enough, as she usually does when Ross is beside her, but they'd woken her an hour ago, the pain coming in waves through her belly, and she had pressed her fingers down gently on the baby and willed him or her to move.

But the baby was still.

Demelza knows that's no reason to worry, that the baby won't always be moving, and yet there is panic beginning to claw at the back of her throat. Something is wrong. There's a terrible voice hissing low in the back of her mind, telling her she's going to suffer some horrible loss here tonight. Something is very wrong. Wake Ross.

Eventually she can no longer stand it and she sits on the edge of their bed and gently shakes Ross's shoulder.

"Ross," she whispers. "I've a pain."
herhumbleservant: (pensive as fuq)

[personal profile] herhumbleservant 2016-06-15 07:26 am (UTC)(link)
"You're not other women," Ross tells her, if a bit gruffly. He knows they can't dismiss the possibilities of having to prepare for the worst entirely, is especially aware of that because he's been through the worst with one of their children once already, but he finds it far more preferable to deny anything could happen to their baby. It's always a matter of someone else until it happens within one's own family, he thinks. It's always someone else's child who's sick, someone else's child who'd sadly passed, someone else's child who'd suffered.

Before Julia had gotten sick, it'd been little Geoffrey Charles, and Ross has never been a religious man but he remembers thanking God his own daughter had been spared. Until she hadn't been.

The worst isn't supposed to happen to his family, especially not now that they're here, in a place that provides them with so many resources they'd been lacking at home. Times may be different, there still may be parts of this modern world they're still adjusting to, but by and large, Ross thinks they're better off being here than Cornwall. Simply for the sake of his wife and daughter's health, he's content to stay here forever, as long as he never has to go back to a life without his two greatest loves in it. Three, now.

"You'll be fine. So will our Jeremy, our Verity, our little boy or girl. You'll both be just fine." He softens at the sight of just how exhausted his wife seems, reaching out with his free hand to brush damp curls behind her ear. "Rest a bit here, I'm going to check on Julia and make you some tea, then we'll get you right back to bed. No argument."
herhumbleservant: (ugh gross fam)

[personal profile] herhumbleservant 2016-06-16 07:15 am (UTC)(link)
It takes but a moment to step into Julia's room to peer into her crib, making sure his daughter is sleeping soundly, and he merely caresses one of her little hands with his thumb for fear of waking her by doing anything more. Every so often, if he happens to wake earlier than usual and has the time to spare before he has to prepare for a day at the stables, Ross will come in here and sit beside her, watching her breathe until she stirs. He knows that one day, she'll grow old enough that he won't be able to do such a thing anymore. She'll be angry when he's too overbearing, frustrated when he's overprotective; but he'll always think of this, of how small she'd been once and still is now, how perfectly she fits in his arms, and how beautiful she is every time she takes a breath.

The same will be true, too, of their second child when he or she is welcomed into the world. He can only laugh to himself when he hears Demelza call for him, checking on him, as if brewing a kettle is far too much trouble for him. While it's true he doesn't do much in the way of cooking, Ross does know how to boil water, and he doesn't bother to answer Demelza because he thinks his silence will likely speak for itself.

When he carries the finished cup of tea back into the bathroom, he lets out a heavy sigh, one that's clearly teasing. "Well enough, indeed," he tells her. "You'd think I'd volunteered to bake you a pie. That, I may have had trouble with but fortunately, I've managed to heat water without incident."
herhumbleservant: (teehee don't look at me)

[personal profile] herhumbleservant 2016-06-22 06:41 am (UTC)(link)
"Mm, indeed it is," Ross answers, though he can't hide his amusement as Demelza puts voice to her thoughts. As far as he's concerned, she's free to spend as much time in the kitchen as she'd like and if she doesn't want him poking around in it, all the better. He doesn't anticipate ever becoming proficient enough to cook his family an entire meal, and Ross doesn't feel any shame for that. Surely, he could learn, and he isn't necessarily opposed to it; but as far as they've come in understanding the more modern customs of this place, Ross and Demelza do still sometimes fall back on what others may consider outdated traditions.

Letting his wife do the cooking is one of them, and he doubts Demelza has complaints about that. In his own defense, he does occasionally bring home takeaway when Demelza is feeling unwell or overly worked. There's no need to learn how to prepare a dish when he can resort to that instead.

"As long as you're not getting into trouble, you're always free to do what you'd like," Ross tells her, leaning over to press a kiss to her hair, though he does fix her with mock sternness when he pulls back. "That includes trying to start fights with men who are cruel to your dog, mind, among many other things that I'm sure you won't need me to list." He arches a brow, a smirk playing a the corner of his mouth. "The fights are my job. And I'm allowed to do what I like, as well, am I not?"