an entrance

[sheila_nagig]

[ OOM: The miracle of an easy birth.]

An old lady proceeds to enter through the front door. Most people have probably never seen her before.

But they may recognise her. Maybe if they've visited Ireland, or maybe even if they just look closely at the face, they'll recognise something of her old self

Comments

[jack_inthegreen]

It's like he heard her voice, calling to him.

Perhaps he did.

"Sheila," he says simply and something about her silver hair hurts his heart.

[sheila_nagig]

"Hallo, Jack, my love."

She smiles up at him from her seat, her mouth crinkling not just at the corners now, but all along the line of her lips.

"I have somebody who's very anxious to meet you," she says just as there's a little hand that pokes out from the blankets.

[jack_inthegreen]

"Oh," he breathes and places a finger in the tiny fist. "Hello. Hello, there." He looks up at her. "Sheila, I wanted to be there for you."

[sheila_nagig]

She nods, a little jittery, but hey - she's lived practically forever. Old age was going to catch up at some point.

"I wouldn't have minded it, either. Feckin' timin'."

The fist closes around Jack's finger, and doesn't. Let. Go.

"It came on all of a sudden. Not much to do about it, really. He's here. And he's heathly. And I'm tired, Jack."

[and_far_away]

There's a man also sitting near the fire, his baby daughter - not even a week old - held carefully in his lap.

He looks up and nods to her as she sits down.

[sheila_nagig]

She smiles softly at the bebbe. And nods at the gentleman.

"She's beautiful."

She doesn't have to be able to see the baby too closely; all babies are beautiful.

[and_far_away]

And Sharpe, who finally has a living daughter he has every expectation of being able to keep, smiles at her.

"Thank you."

[sheila_nagig]

"She's not so old, is she? And so peaceful already.""

The soft Irish lilt in her voice is calming, like a babbling brook on a summer's day, or the wind through the trees.

"I think this one's going to be a quiet one, too."

[bad_in_latin]

Mal doesn't recognize her, not entirely. The woman's hair makes him think of his mother, and that's more a more comforting light to view the person (willow is it really) he thinks she is.

"...Sheila?"

[sheila_nagig]

She looks around, eyebrows high on her forehead, a smile on her lips already.

"Well, well, Cap'n. Didn't reckon you'd recognise me."

[bad_in_latin]

Mal laughs in surprise at being right, "I didn't think you and I had missed so much of each other."

Looking down to the baby in her arms, "You've been busy."

[sheila_nagig]

"We didn't; I've not been here much," she says, looking down at her bundle.. "This one's just new; fresh; for my brother, again, for my Jack. He doesn't have a name yet. I'm just keeping him warm."

She smiles up at Mal.

"It doesn't take much, for me. Three months, baby. It's the bits after that are the hard bits."