Ellimere
Rating: G
Summary: Suuuper fluffy little fic about chosing Ellimere's name and just after she was born.
“I’m going insane! I can’t do anything. I can’t even see my feet!” Sabriel exclaimed in frustration as she almost trips on the small ledge surrounding the bookcases in the palace library for the third time that day.
“I can see your feet,” Touchstone replies, looking over from his papers.
She is not amused. “You are so helpful.”
He closed his book, eyes smiling, and walked over, smiling “I try.”
“I hope you know I blame you for this situation.” She grumbled, throwing herself into a chair, true annoyance giving away to mock grumpiness.
His grin grew “I’m afraid I cannot take full responsibility. I seem to remember that someone else was quite involved in the making of this dilemma.”
She huffed at him. “That’s beside the point.”
He kissed her softly and stood behind her, massaging her shoulders. Sabriel sighed as she closed her eyes, frown disappearing.
“We should figure out a name.” She said after a few minutes.
“Hmm?” He asks absent-mindedly.
“For her. Now that we know it… she… is a her, we can pick a name.” she explains, placing a hand over her swollen womb.
They had just received a message from the Clayr yesterday sending them congratulations and informing them that their daughter would be born a week early. Typically, they had been intent on one piece of information and had not considered the fact that there were in fact two pieces of news in their letter.
His hands slowed. He had thought about this for some time last night and after a while, his mind had hit on a name. The right name, he thought.
He pulled up a chair and sat down, taking Sabriel’s hand. She was looking out the window, brow creased in thought.
“How about Ellimere?” He proposed, eyes intent on her face, gauging her reaction.
She looked at him sharply, her eyes quickly refocusing and going wide, as though she’d been slapped.
“You told me much about her.” He continued softly, “She was a compassionate, smart, brave, creative person. She is a person our daughter would look up to.”
Sabriel didn’t answer but her face softened as she considered it. Her eyes were glassy, bright with tears.
She gave his hand a tight squeeze and nodded.
“Yes.” She said huskily.
He stood and cupped her face in his hand.
“Sabriel.”
She stood too and wrapped her arms around him. They embraced tightly.
When their hug loosened, Touchstone saw that she was smiling at him. A soft smile that brimmed with joy at everything she felt for him, their unborn daughter and the friend that had been her sister in all but blood.
He smiled back and kissed her happily.
Then he kneeled and put his hands and forehead on her rounded midsection.
“Hello Small One.” He said, employing their nickname for the un-named baby. “Are you awake?”
He waited, eyes closed, until he felt a kick. The he grinned and kissed Sabriel’s belly.
“We have a name for you.” He informed her, voice falsely serious.
“How do you like Ellimere?” He asked, just as the baby kicked his forehead.
He looked up at Sabriel, eyes wide.
“She likes it.”
She grinned, barely containing her laughter.
“How do you know? Maybe that kick meant that she hates it.” She teased.
“Good point,” Touchstone said, frowning, maintaining his façade of sincerity.
He placed his forehead on her belly again and closed his eyes, as if by doing so, he could sense the child’s reaction more clearly.
“Kick once for ‘That’s just the right name for me’ and twice for ‘No, you fools, that’s not me at all.’ ” He specified.
This time Sabriel could not hold back her laughter.
…
Sabriel touched her forehead to that of the little creature and breathed in her warm, new smell. The baby, Ellimere, squirmed and made a soft noise, nuzzling closer to her mother. She had abandoned her squalling and now just seemed slightly perplexed by the outside world.
Touchstone sat half behind his wife, one arm around her. He stroked his daughter’s little red cheek with his other hand, reeling at the fact that this was their child. She had seemed almost unreal before, but here she was, this perfect little being that was staring up at them with her large dark eyes, so like her mother’s.
His vision blurred and he let the tears fall, soundlessly. He cradled Ellimere’s head in his hand. Sabriel kissed his cheek and rested her head on his shoulder. There was nothing that needed to be said. He buried his face in her hair, which smelled of sweat from her recent ordeal and of lemons.
The world does not exist outside of this small, perfect bubble that contains him, his wife and his new little girl, he thought. Not truly.
Summary: Suuuper fluffy little fic about chosing Ellimere's name and just after she was born.
“I’m going insane! I can’t do anything. I can’t even see my feet!” Sabriel exclaimed in frustration as she almost trips on the small ledge surrounding the bookcases in the palace library for the third time that day.
“I can see your feet,” Touchstone replies, looking over from his papers.
She is not amused. “You are so helpful.”
He closed his book, eyes smiling, and walked over, smiling “I try.”
“I hope you know I blame you for this situation.” She grumbled, throwing herself into a chair, true annoyance giving away to mock grumpiness.
His grin grew “I’m afraid I cannot take full responsibility. I seem to remember that someone else was quite involved in the making of this dilemma.”
She huffed at him. “That’s beside the point.”
He kissed her softly and stood behind her, massaging her shoulders. Sabriel sighed as she closed her eyes, frown disappearing.
“We should figure out a name.” She said after a few minutes.
“Hmm?” He asks absent-mindedly.
“For her. Now that we know it… she… is a her, we can pick a name.” she explains, placing a hand over her swollen womb.
They had just received a message from the Clayr yesterday sending them congratulations and informing them that their daughter would be born a week early. Typically, they had been intent on one piece of information and had not considered the fact that there were in fact two pieces of news in their letter.
His hands slowed. He had thought about this for some time last night and after a while, his mind had hit on a name. The right name, he thought.
He pulled up a chair and sat down, taking Sabriel’s hand. She was looking out the window, brow creased in thought.
“How about Ellimere?” He proposed, eyes intent on her face, gauging her reaction.
She looked at him sharply, her eyes quickly refocusing and going wide, as though she’d been slapped.
“You told me much about her.” He continued softly, “She was a compassionate, smart, brave, creative person. She is a person our daughter would look up to.”
Sabriel didn’t answer but her face softened as she considered it. Her eyes were glassy, bright with tears.
She gave his hand a tight squeeze and nodded.
“Yes.” She said huskily.
He stood and cupped her face in his hand.
“Sabriel.”
She stood too and wrapped her arms around him. They embraced tightly.
When their hug loosened, Touchstone saw that she was smiling at him. A soft smile that brimmed with joy at everything she felt for him, their unborn daughter and the friend that had been her sister in all but blood.
He smiled back and kissed her happily.
Then he kneeled and put his hands and forehead on her rounded midsection.
“Hello Small One.” He said, employing their nickname for the un-named baby. “Are you awake?”
He waited, eyes closed, until he felt a kick. The he grinned and kissed Sabriel’s belly.
“We have a name for you.” He informed her, voice falsely serious.
“How do you like Ellimere?” He asked, just as the baby kicked his forehead.
He looked up at Sabriel, eyes wide.
“She likes it.”
She grinned, barely containing her laughter.
“How do you know? Maybe that kick meant that she hates it.” She teased.
“Good point,” Touchstone said, frowning, maintaining his façade of sincerity.
He placed his forehead on her belly again and closed his eyes, as if by doing so, he could sense the child’s reaction more clearly.
“Kick once for ‘That’s just the right name for me’ and twice for ‘No, you fools, that’s not me at all.’ ” He specified.
This time Sabriel could not hold back her laughter.
…
Sabriel touched her forehead to that of the little creature and breathed in her warm, new smell. The baby, Ellimere, squirmed and made a soft noise, nuzzling closer to her mother. She had abandoned her squalling and now just seemed slightly perplexed by the outside world.
Touchstone sat half behind his wife, one arm around her. He stroked his daughter’s little red cheek with his other hand, reeling at the fact that this was their child. She had seemed almost unreal before, but here she was, this perfect little being that was staring up at them with her large dark eyes, so like her mother’s.
His vision blurred and he let the tears fall, soundlessly. He cradled Ellimere’s head in his hand. Sabriel kissed his cheek and rested her head on his shoulder. There was nothing that needed to be said. He buried his face in her hair, which smelled of sweat from her recent ordeal and of lemons.
The world does not exist outside of this small, perfect bubble that contains him, his wife and his new little girl, he thought. Not truly.