FIC: This Child of Mine
Title: This Child of Mine
Author: jagnikjen
Word Count: 743
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Marian, Marian/Guy, Marian/Robin
Spoilers/Warnings: none
Summary: Marian gives birth and puts the question of who fathered her child to rest.
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone you recognize.
A/N: I apologize for any missing words, misspelled words, etc...I am at home and using openoffice.org without MS Word to help me edit and catch all those pesky little mistakes.
~*~*~
This Child of Mine
The pangs had begun.
Marian paced the master bed chamber of Locksley Manor, breathing harshly as they increased in length and intensity.
Matilda sat and knitted, saying there was nothing she could do until it was time. Occasionally, she lay Marian down and checked the progress, but then forced her back to her feet. Every hour or so, she encouraged her to drink a concoction that barely took the edge off the pain. Matilda had finally sent everyone else from the room saying they didn't need help and they didn't need company.
Marian's husband groused falsely as he kissed her forehead for show and departed. But she was grateful. Her nerves were already strung taut as a bow string. It would take little to break the tension. A few minutes later she heard a horse gallop down the lane. She didn't know whether to be angry or relieved.
Back and forth across the bed chamber Marian moved, stopping at the height of each pain, gasping for breath. It wasn't until she crumpled to the floor with a sharp cry that Matilda finally allowed her to take to the bed.
The fire crackled merrily in the hearth as Marian writhed and moaned in the bed. A cool breeze floated in on the moonlight through the open window. A few candles flickered, chasing the darkness from the corners of the room. There was nothing but silence from below. She didn't know how much time had elapsed. Had her husband returned? If not, where had he holed up for the night? Their marriage had been nothing like she thought.
She'd thought, despite his rough edges, that their intimate moments would be sweet and loving. At the very least, satisfactory. That she would be able to deal with everything else as long as that aspect of their relationship was good.
She'd fallen from grace a week before the wedding though she'd vowed never to seek him out again. But it became clear right from the start that life within the marriage bed was just as difficult as it was out of it. And she'd quickly realized that life without satisfying sex was no life at all. Hers would be unbearable otherwise.
She and her lover always made love in the daylight. Whereas she and her husband rutted only in the night. The contradiction was not lost on her.
Another pain ripped through her, tearing a scream from her throat, and bringing her back to the here and now. She hoped the child would be born soon, no matter the circumstances of its conception. Matilda bathed Marian's forehead repeatedly as the pains continued and finally encouraged her to push.
A burning sensation suddenly took over her nether regions and Marian cried out again.
“Almost done, luv,” Matilda said, matter-of-factly. “A few more good pushes like that last one and you'll be holding your babe in no time.”
Thank the saints above. Marian didn't know how much longer she could have lasted had the end not been in sight. Still, her stomach fluttered and her heart pounded nervously in her chest.
At last a wobbly cry sounded above the snapping of the low-burning fire and Marian collapsed in relief, short-lived though it was. She pushed aside the urge to grab the child and inspect it thoroughly.
“It's a sweet girl,” Matilda said, laying the babe upon Marian's much-smaller stomach. “Just waiting for the afterbirth now.”
Another wave of relief flooded her. It was a girl. Her husband would have little interest in a daughter.
Once the process was complete, Marian ignored her exhaustion to examine her daughter from head to toe. The baby slept through the whole thing, surprisingly.
“Are you looking for something in particular?” asked Matilda, holding Marian's gaze.
After what seemed like minutes, Marian tore her eyes away from Matilda and looked at the baby. She shook her head. “No . . . just making sure she has ten fingers and ten toes. Th-that she's perfect in every way.”
Matilda harrumphed and continued to gather up her things.
Disappointment warred with relief within Marian. On the one hand, there was no tell-tale mark to reveal the baby's true father. On the other hand, there was no way for her to know whether her husband or her lover had fathered her child.
Until the babe opened her eyes and gazed upon her mother with a solemn look Marian knew well. She smiled and pressed a kiss to the baby's forehead.
~ Fin ~
~*~*~
Author: jagnikjen
Word Count: 743
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Marian, Marian/Guy, Marian/Robin
Spoilers/Warnings: none
Summary: Marian gives birth and puts the question of who fathered her child to rest.
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone you recognize.
A/N: I apologize for any missing words, misspelled words, etc...I am at home and using openoffice.org without MS Word to help me edit and catch all those pesky little mistakes.
~*~*~
This Child of Mine
The pangs had begun.
Marian paced the master bed chamber of Locksley Manor, breathing harshly as they increased in length and intensity.
Matilda sat and knitted, saying there was nothing she could do until it was time. Occasionally, she lay Marian down and checked the progress, but then forced her back to her feet. Every hour or so, she encouraged her to drink a concoction that barely took the edge off the pain. Matilda had finally sent everyone else from the room saying they didn't need help and they didn't need company.
Marian's husband groused falsely as he kissed her forehead for show and departed. But she was grateful. Her nerves were already strung taut as a bow string. It would take little to break the tension. A few minutes later she heard a horse gallop down the lane. She didn't know whether to be angry or relieved.
Back and forth across the bed chamber Marian moved, stopping at the height of each pain, gasping for breath. It wasn't until she crumpled to the floor with a sharp cry that Matilda finally allowed her to take to the bed.
The fire crackled merrily in the hearth as Marian writhed and moaned in the bed. A cool breeze floated in on the moonlight through the open window. A few candles flickered, chasing the darkness from the corners of the room. There was nothing but silence from below. She didn't know how much time had elapsed. Had her husband returned? If not, where had he holed up for the night? Their marriage had been nothing like she thought.
She'd thought, despite his rough edges, that their intimate moments would be sweet and loving. At the very least, satisfactory. That she would be able to deal with everything else as long as that aspect of their relationship was good.
She'd fallen from grace a week before the wedding though she'd vowed never to seek him out again. But it became clear right from the start that life within the marriage bed was just as difficult as it was out of it. And she'd quickly realized that life without satisfying sex was no life at all. Hers would be unbearable otherwise.
She and her lover always made love in the daylight. Whereas she and her husband rutted only in the night. The contradiction was not lost on her.
Another pain ripped through her, tearing a scream from her throat, and bringing her back to the here and now. She hoped the child would be born soon, no matter the circumstances of its conception. Matilda bathed Marian's forehead repeatedly as the pains continued and finally encouraged her to push.
A burning sensation suddenly took over her nether regions and Marian cried out again.
“Almost done, luv,” Matilda said, matter-of-factly. “A few more good pushes like that last one and you'll be holding your babe in no time.”
Thank the saints above. Marian didn't know how much longer she could have lasted had the end not been in sight. Still, her stomach fluttered and her heart pounded nervously in her chest.
At last a wobbly cry sounded above the snapping of the low-burning fire and Marian collapsed in relief, short-lived though it was. She pushed aside the urge to grab the child and inspect it thoroughly.
“It's a sweet girl,” Matilda said, laying the babe upon Marian's much-smaller stomach. “Just waiting for the afterbirth now.”
Another wave of relief flooded her. It was a girl. Her husband would have little interest in a daughter.
Once the process was complete, Marian ignored her exhaustion to examine her daughter from head to toe. The baby slept through the whole thing, surprisingly.
“Are you looking for something in particular?” asked Matilda, holding Marian's gaze.
After what seemed like minutes, Marian tore her eyes away from Matilda and looked at the baby. She shook her head. “No . . . just making sure she has ten fingers and ten toes. Th-that she's perfect in every way.”
Matilda harrumphed and continued to gather up her things.
Disappointment warred with relief within Marian. On the one hand, there was no tell-tale mark to reveal the baby's true father. On the other hand, there was no way for her to know whether her husband or her lover had fathered her child.
Until the babe opened her eyes and gazed upon her mother with a solemn look Marian knew well. She smiled and pressed a kiss to the baby's forehead.
~ Fin ~
~*~*~