Maladicta had thought she had learned what exhaustion was when she had gone cold bat. Then she'd thought she'd finally gotten a good grasp on it after being horribly sunburned during her first week on the island. Then she'd realized that was nothing compared to influenza, her great winter nemesis.
Then she'd lost true love. And then she'd gotten pregnant. It was as though once or twice a year, the hands of the universe reached gently down to wring her out like a rag until all her energy was gone, just to show her that, no, it could be worse.
Well, there. She'd given birth. It made carrying the thing around for nine months feel like a day at the baths1.
That wasn't a good thought.
And now, now, after the initial cry- which was good, allegedly, as it signified the tiny human's lungs were working- had subsided, here was William that bastard calling her the 'm' word and hovering uncertainly near bye. For a few long moments she kept her head turned away where it had lolled to once the pressure had gone, and breathed in and out a few times.
They'd have to meet eventually. Now was probably best, even if Maladicta wasn't at hers.
She turned her head toward William and the baby, not quite frowning, she was too tired to frown, but looking a little reluctant, and possibly slightly scared.
She saw a bundle.
"All right," she said, shifting a little so her arms were free of blanket and she was in a position to accept- very carefully- the baby.
"Let's have i-... her, then."
1Which vampires did have, but rarely frequented. Pale skin stained so easily.
"Olivia," William reminded her, sounding utterly bewildered as he did so. "Um, careful," he said, very gingerly passing her into Maladicta's arms.
It wasn't so much that he was afraid of Maladicta dropping her as he was... afraid of either of them doing it. There seemed so much potential risk in doing just about anything, he didn't know how it could be managed.
Maladicta accepted a weight that was completely -ing boggling. No way did something that heavy to walk around with end up being this small. She moved the blanket out of the way of Olivia's face, and one of her very tiny hands, and took in the slightly squinchy expression and shock of dark hair that was thicker than she'd expected. If she'd expected anything. When the little (very little. Tiny.) girl opened her eyes, albeit not very far, she saw they were blue, although sort of an indeterminate shade of it.
And there she was, this was Olivia. Maladicta stared, all judgment and expression gone from her face.
"Olivia," she repeated at a murmur, sounding as distant as she looked.
Curiously, looking a bit too young to actually be the progenitor of the baby in her arms, Maladicta brushed at Olivia's hair. She drew her hand back, then gently prodded the baby's fingers, which curled over Maladicta's own fingertips. Not in a grip. They were just... pliable. Soft. But whole, and there were five. They had very tiny nails.
"...You're quieter than I was led to believe you'd be," she told the infant.
"I don't think so," Maladicta said, experimentally rocking her arm, not to jostle the baby, but to... see. Just to see. Olivia made a noise that was too quiet to be a full coo and her face did the... squinchy thing again. Maladicta stared.
"Duchess preserve us," she murmured absently, "what am I supposed to do with you?"
"Oh, it's fine," William said, which was true if he was talking about his right hand, which was fine. "Don't worry about it. Er, how's your- how are you feeling?"
"You could... sleep, I suppose," William said, once again glancing around to seek confirmation this wasn't wrong. "I'll stay here and keep an eye on things."
What he'd be keeping an eye on, he wasn't entirely sure. He was fairly certain Olivia wasn't going anywhere.
Although, now that he thought about it, he should probably do his best to guarantee that.
She let out a long, soft breath, eyes closing again for a longer moment.
"Well, I forget what I was going to say," she murmured. She bent her wrist at an awkward angle so she could touch Olivia's hair, curious as to the texture of anything that thick on a new born, so called because she had just been birthed.
Then she'd lost true love. And then she'd gotten pregnant. It was as though once or twice a year, the hands of the universe reached gently down to wring her out like a rag until all her energy was gone, just to show her that, no, it could be worse.
Well, there. She'd given birth. It made carrying the thing around for nine months feel like a day at the baths1.
That wasn't a good thought.
And now, now, after the initial cry- which was good, allegedly, as it signified the tiny human's lungs were working- had subsided, here was William that bastard calling her the 'm' word and hovering uncertainly near bye. For a few long moments she kept her head turned away where it had lolled to once the pressure had gone, and breathed in and out a few times.
They'd have to meet eventually. Now was probably best, even if Maladicta wasn't at hers.
She turned her head toward William and the baby, not quite frowning, she was too tired to frown, but looking a little reluctant, and possibly slightly scared.
She saw a bundle.
"All right," she said, shifting a little so her arms were free of blanket and she was in a position to accept- very carefully- the baby.
"Let's have i-... her, then."
1Which vampires did have, but rarely frequented. Pale skin stained so easily.
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It wasn't so much that he was afraid of Maladicta dropping her as he was... afraid of either of them doing it. There seemed so much potential risk in doing just about anything, he didn't know how it could be managed.
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And there she was, this was Olivia. Maladicta stared, all judgment and expression gone from her face.
"Olivia," she repeated at a murmur, sounding as distant as she looked.
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Be a parent, presumably, but there wasn't exactly much parenting to be done just yet. Was there? Maybe he was forgetting something.
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"...You're quieter than I was led to believe you'd be," she told the infant.
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"Duchess preserve us," she murmured absently, "what am I supposed to do with you?"
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Well, a bit paler.
"...Oh. Good, then. Er, how's your hand?" she asked.
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"Mmn, not... fantastic. I'm a bit tired."
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What he'd be keeping an eye on, he wasn't entirely sure. He was fairly certain Olivia wasn't going anywhere.
Although, now that he thought about it, he should probably do his best to guarantee that.
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"That might happen whether I want it to or not." She turned her head so her cheek was against the pillow and she could look at Olivia.
"You know something, Will?"
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He wasn't entirely sure if he knew anything, just then, but it was best to hedge his bets.
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"Well, I forget what I was going to say," she murmured. She bent her wrist at an awkward angle so she could touch Olivia's hair, curious as to the texture of anything that thick on a new born, so called because she had just been birthed.
"Huh," she said quietly. It was extremely soft.
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Relative being the operative word, as in, related to.
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