letitbetrue | (june)

It's not that Demelza doesn't love her husband or that she seriously entertains thoughts of straying, but she's an eye for attractive men, and there are days when one may cross her path that is truly difficult not to look at. Given Ross and his lingering affection for Elizabeth, which Demelza doesn't exactly like, but has perhaps grown to understand, given how lovely Elizabeth truly is, how beautiful and genteel and wonderfully kind, she doesn't think he'd fault her a glance or two.

For that's all it is. A glance.

Yet the problem arises when a glance becomes a distraction and Demelza, now quite visibly and uncomfortably pregnant and nearly into her third trimester, has not the balance or grace she usually possesses. All it takes is a lingering look that lasts perhaps a touch too long -- though she can hardly be blamed, she's never before seen a man with such a thick beard and is imagining what she might have to do in order to convince Ross to grow one -- and she's stumbling her way around a corner she hadn't realized was there. Stumbling straight into someone she's never met before.

"Judas God," she curses, reaching for his arms to steady herself. It wouldn't do to fall all over herself with the baby having grown so much in recent weeks.

"I'm that sorry, sir, I weren't-" But her words trail off abruptly when she glances up, finding she's wandered directly into another terribly handsome man.

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Bellamy's hands reach out to steady the person he's just bumped into, a little concerned when he realizes she's pretty damn pregnant on top of it.

"I'm fine," he tells her when she cuts herself off, and he glances down at himself to make sure that's the case, because turning his attention back to her. Rather, her hair, mostly. It's one of those reds that Bellamy still can't believe is natural, having seen very little of it on the Ark or on the ground. "You're okay?"

Demelza nods and she can feel a flush threatening to creep up her cheeks, one she does her best to push back. "Yes," she assures him. "I'm that brave, sir, tis nothing at all to worry about."

For the most part, she tries not to use much of the slang from home, knowing people don't quite understand her here when she does, but there are times like now when it slips through. When she's startled and can't help herself.

He has freckles, she's noticed, not unlike Ross, and she feels her cheeks going a little red despite herself.

He's confused for a moment, wondering what bravery has to do with anything -- if that's even what she meant, considering how different her accent is -- but as long as he isn't responsible for hurting a pregnant woman, Bellamy's going to take it in stride.

"Good. Because running someone down on the sidewalk wasn't really on my agenda for the day."

At that Demelza laughs and gestures down at her ever expanding form, which truly isn't quite as large as she thinks it is. Lately she feels as if she's already begun to waddle everywhere and she's had to let out too many of her frocks. While she'll be happy when the baby arrives, this part, growing so large, this is her least favourite.

"Tis no trouble, sir, tis probably me that would be runnin' you down anyway. There's good enough weight in me these days and enough padding that I must doubt the baby'd ever even notice if you bounced off."

Her words earn a laugh out of Bellamy, though he can't help but be taken back to the Ark and his mother in her last few months carrying Octavia, when she'd done everything in her power to keep from showing. It had been a delicate balance between eating for two and making sure she didn't show any new weight -- but with what little they could beg and borrow and steal, it had never been enough anyway. That Octavia was born so healthy at all had been a miracle.

"Ah, I think the baby would notice," he says, staying away from any mention of her weight. He thinks she looks just fine, looks as healthy as any other person he sees around in the city compared to the Ark or the ground. "My sister was pretty active before she was born. I think she was working on her stubborn streak before she even arrived."

Edited 2016-06-12 08:54 (UTC)

Demelza smiles at that, imagining her brother might have said the same thing about her, though she came before any of them did. Not a one of them is as stubborn as she is and when he speaks of his sister, she finds herself missing them all desperately, right down to Drake.

"Is your sister here, then?" she asks and it's said with some caution, knowing it may not be the case. "I have six brothers, though none of them are here and I do miss 'em terribly at times. They were all an awful lot of work most days, but they're still my brothers." She had left them behind, which has always been a topic of intense guilt, but she had needed to escape. Her father's abuse had been too much, too hard, and she couldn't stomach it.

"Six," Bellamy repeats with some wonder. He knows families are free to grow as large as they please here, but large has always been subjective. Three at most is pushing the boundaries of what he'd believed once. Seven children in one family is almost impossible to imagine.

"No, she's not here," he says, the pain of it a barely there twinge in the face of his curiosity. "Six siblings? What was that like?"

"My brothers are not here either and I d'miss them something terrible some days," she tells him kindly, then laughs a little when he asks what that was like.

"Loud mostly. And twas always hard to sleep, seven of us fighting over two beds." They hadn't even been real beds, but sometimes she's still embarrassed to admit that. "It were hard to feed 'em all, especially since my father didn't much care whether we lived or died, but we made do."

She pauses, then smiles at him again. "I'm that sorry, I haven't even introduced myself. I do that a lot around here. I'm Demelza."

He can imagine that sort of life, but only just barely; living in and around the drop ship on the ground was much the same, though the family they'd created kept being torn apart with every new challenge they had to face. At least he hasn't lost Clarke or Raven here, and for that he's grateful.

"Bellamy," he responds, tone apologetic as he realizes he's been speaking to a stranger without introducing himself either. "Where are you from?" he asks, curious about her accent. It's not one that had survived easily on the Ark; they'd only heard such strong accents in old videos watched while in school.

Bellamy. She's never heard a name quite like that at all and she turns it over thoughtfully in her mind before giving him a shy smile. "I'm from Cornwall," she tells him. "Tis in England. And I'm from a very different time than this one."

Most people can tell just by looking at her that she isn't a modern woman. The dresses here are different, as are the undergarments, but while Demelza has made the shift toward lace camisoles and more practical undergarments, she's stayed within her comfort zone when it comes to dresses. Pants are appealing to her, but she isn't sure she can wear them. Not yet.

"So am I," Bellamy says, though with the way Demelza is dressed and with the way she speaks, he suspects she's from a much more distant time. "From a different time than this one, not from England. Obviously."

"No, you certainly don't speak as we do in England," she agrees cheerfully enough, but she likes his accent. She likes all the accents she hears in Darrow, likes noticing how different they are, wondering where they all come from.

"What year was it for you?" she asks curiously. "Twas 1789 for me, so much further from this time than most people." But she's adjusted fairly well, she thinks, and she does enjoy everything Darrow offers her.

"Oh, you weren't kidding about a different time," he says, blinking. It's hard to even picture that sort of time in anything other than a generalization; they hadn't focused on much in history classes, and Bellamy's interest tended to lean toward ancient history anyway.

"I'm in the other direction. It was 2149."

"Are 'ee from space?" she asks eagerly. "I'm sorry, tis only just that all other people I've met from such times have lived in space."

And space is fascinating to Demelza, the sort of world she can only ever imagine, having absolutely no context for what people have described to her. The books in the library help, but there's really only so much one can learn in that situation without having been there themselves.

"I'd so love to see it," she says. "But I know it ent possible."

(june)

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