Hush Little Baby {Open}

[Admin]

A thousand times I’ve seen you standing,
Gravity like a lunar landing,
Make me want to run till I find you,
I shut the world away from here.

Fajra collapsed against the bed with her eyes shut and her face smooth. She focused on drawing in steady, easy breaths. Twelve shardin' candlemarks of active labor! She had a new found respect for her mother going through with having four children, rather than taking a trip between with a couple of them because this was supposed to be just the start of it. In an instant, her eyes snapped open as a quiet, wracking cry filled the room. She raised her head to stare at the healer and the midwife who were leaning over the mostly obscured form of her baby. "Is it alright?" There was a lack of worry and distressed concern, but she was sincere with the question and her voice demanded an answer, a quick answer.

"There's nothing to worry about. He's a boy, and he's just showing that he knows how to use his lungs;" the healer hurriedly reassured her, turning around with the now swaddled baby in her arms. Very gently, she handed him over to his mother, who deftly held him in her arms. He had quieted after his few moments of crying and now grinned a toothless smile up at her. The pale, eight pound baby had a little snip of red hair, dull and dark but definitely red and likely to get redder with some time, on the top of his head. His squiggled, scrunched up blue eyes stared up at her curiously. An ever so faint smile came onto her face in reply to his own as his adorableness went through her exhaustion.

"Osro;" she murmured, the decided name she'd chosen for him that combined her and O'sho's name at least reasonably well. It had been planned in advance and she'd felt no need to ask anyone's opinion of it. Simple, short, attractive in terms of sound, and she could see it with a honorific, because she did hold to the likeliness that the child would one day become a dragonrider. Sitting up, and letting the healer adjust pillows to prop her up, she stared at her son, so delicate and small, as she held him against her chest. She made a soft shushing noise, crooning over him like Kalith would do over her eggs, so that he could hear her voice and would stay calm. It was nice, that he was so peaceful and happy.

"Can I let the father in now? And perhaps some others;" the midwife asked polite and meekly. At some point during the half a day that they'd been there, a question about allowing the Weyrleader, who was the father, in had been met with profuse swearing and death threats, which were arguably probably fueled by pain. Now a direct but distracted nod gave agreement to it. She bustled over out of the room in the larger cavern where a slinking, pacing Queen, her bronze mate, and the bronze's rider waited. She gestured for him, indicating that he could go and remained by the entrance way. There would be others that would want to come see the new baby, and she needed to be able to keep an eye on them.

Drink to all that we have lost,
Mistakes we have made,
Everything will change,
But love remains the same.

[Kila]

O'sho and Daidoroth waited anxiously outside Fajra's Weyr with Kalith, the only three in the Weyr allowed to wait so close by. The Weyrleader stood with his back against the stone of the wall and his head resting motionlessly on his fist. He looked like he was in deep, pensive concentration, but he was only waiting. Truth be told he was worried- births were tricky things that, having a small part of a Healer's background, he knew to respect and treat with utmost caution. Worrying, though, would serve no purpose other than to alarm and unnerve those around him. The rest of the Weyr was also waiting, having known the time would have to be soon. The news that the Weyrwoman had gone through Weyr like flashfire. Fortunately, very few weyrfolk were daft enough to brave Fajra's chill and temper at such an emotional time and were waiting in their personal weyrs to hear the news.

Daidoroth was also still, resting on the ledge with his forearms crossed nobly over one another, but he was slightly more agitated than His. Though his body was still, his eyes followed Kalith as she slunk back and forth, proddy and dangerous in response to Hers' situation. He could feel O'sho's worry and the distress of his Queen, but he remained poised as well, sending strong, soothing feelings to them both, for he loved them so. Everything will be alright.

And it was. After some time of waiting and a great deal of strained patience, the Healer came out and motioned to O'sho that he could enter. The Weyrleader's head was up as soon as the door creaked, and he nodded thankfully towards the healer and walked purposefully over to the door. He hesitated as he entered Fajra's chamber, looking towards the bed and approaching slowly. As he drew closer he could hear the gurgles and shouts of Pern's newest creation- his own flesh and blood.

When he finally reached the edge of the bed he was greeted with beautiful but astonishing sight. Fajra was propped up with a few pillows and held carefully in her arms was a small, swaddled form. She was looking down at it with almost a smile on her face, and she seemed to be... affectionate towards it- an emotion he had seen reserved solely for Kalith. Despite the sweat and struggle that was evident in her tired appearance, she was beautiful and shone with the loving light of motherhood.

"Fajra," he said gently in greeting as he came to her side. He bent down slightly so he could see the baby and immediately burst into an awed, delighted smile when he saw it's face. Red hair and blue eyes. "It looks just like you," he said fondly. "Is it a boy or a girl?" he asked, tearing his eyes away to look at the mother.

[Admin]

A brand new baby was born yesterday,
Just in time,
Papa cried, baby cried,
Said your tears are like mine.

Even though she was well aware, even before the healer had appeared, that it was over and everything was perfectly fine, Kalith continued her pacing and shifting. She was in a foul mood. Of course everything will be fine. Why would it not be? This is all Yours' fault. Mine will be fine; she ranted to Daidoroth after his comment, thoughtless and careless with her words. She was unsettled. For once, her youth showed through in more than rash behavior. She didn't like not being in control. She didn't know what to do.

When someone entered the room, her exhausted thoughts concluded that it was just the midwife returning. Fajra didn't look up, still staring at the cheerful, smiling face of her sleepy, bright little baby. He held her entire attention. Everything else was compartmentalized away with the ease of practice. There were no renegades for the time being. There were no cyans or angry browns with female riders or young golds and their young riders to teach. There was just his sweet, cute little face and his smile.

Then he spoke, spoke her name to be specific, and she looked up slightly at him as she realized that it was O'sho who had come in. She let him lean over so he could see his son and watched as he broke into a delighted smile. The slight smile she'd been wearing faded. He brought back problems. There was a brilliant reminder with him of how the world wasn't perfect that came and a faint reminder of those lost. She didn't like to think about him, think about them. It was something she liked to keep compartmentalized.

"He is a boy, and he doesn't look like me;" she corrected him curtly. "He looks like M'her when he was born, exactly like M'her when he was born. M'her has red hair. Only M'jer has dark hair, like our father;" she continued, her firm correct running off into a thoughtful consideration as she looked back down at her son, his son, their son. It was easy to remember that. It had been sixteen years ago. That was when M'her had been born, her little brother. She could remember being seven. She could remember holding him.

Clearing her throat, she straightened and extended her hands, offering the baby to O'sho to hold. She needed to sleep soon, because she didn't plan on letting sleep stop her from mostly running the Weyr by herself. Except maybe she could raise her son and allot some of her duties. It was a protective streak, a want to keep him close. There were rumors she did too much and that life was too often boring at the Weyr. "I named him Osro;" she added, as if it were an afterthought to tell him the child's name.

You know that I would now,
If only I could,
You know that I would now,
If only I could.

[Kila]

"He is a boy, and he doesn't look like me;" she corrected him curtly. "He looks like M'her when he was born, exactly like M'her when he was born. M'her has red hair. Only M'jer has dark hair, like our father." O'sho made no effort to disagree with this. Trying to go against the wishes of the Weyrwoman in any way was as pointless as showing a worrying face to the Weyr. He nodded to her statement and looked back to his son. Another son! Another child.

Startling him from his single-minded gaze, Fajra cleared her throat and extended her arms, offering the bundled baby to him. Touched, O'sho reached out tenderly and took the proffered child. Taking him from her hands with the utmost attention, he brought him to his chest and cradled him there carefully, looking down with adoring eyes. His gaze was met with big cheerful eyes and a toothless smile. The perfect, tiny face was completely innocent, unmarred by any worries of the world. He was like one of the Bronze rider's blank canvases that had yet to be painted. No color, no prejudice, no worries, no harm. O'sho would not try to prevent the coloration of the boy's canvas, but he hoped that it would be colored brightly, and he would of course be there to guide it every step of the way.

"I named him Osro," Fajra added almost in afterthought, again nudging him awake from his trance-like focus. "A fine name," he said, strangely satisfied to hear their names joined together. If it was apparent nowhere else, it would forever show in Osro's name that they were in some way connected- a team. O'sho pushed a damp lock of hair from Osro's forehead gently. "He's beautiful. He will grow to be a fine man one day, and a proud rider I am sure." He stopped, words of thanks stilled unspoken on his tongue, among other things. Thank you for carrying our lovely son. I am sorry the burden was yours to bear, but I hope you do not regret him now.

"You're tired," he said instead. And why wouldn't she be? She had just delivered a baby, after all. He looked down and bounced him ever so slightly before looking back to her. She would be up and running the Weyr again in no time flat, and he would not have her doing it if she was no well-rested. Fajra knew how to take care of herself, yes, but he would not let her put her duties before herself in this situation. Besides, he trusted her reason. He did not need to say it. "Would you like me to keep him while you rest, for a little while? He was prepared to surrender Osro, of course, as mothers generally wanted their children with them, but would be delighted to keep him for any amount of time if Fajra wanted to sleep.

Daidoroth felt his rider's happiness strongly from outside, and wore a sort of draconic smile as he sat. He was still agitated by Kalith's mal-ease, but the intense positive feelings coming from His soothed his mind. The Bronze did not mind at all when Kalith snapped at him, piercing his reassurance. He said nothing further, but crooned to her soothingly as she paced violently about. He would remain there and be her close companion until she was slightly more at ease or sent him away. She would feel better when Hers spoke to her and felt better herself, he was sure.

[Admin]

I'm open, you're closed,
Where I follow, you'll go,
I worry I won't see your face,
Light up again.

The Weyrwoman's mouth twisted in an odd way as the man that held their child commented that he was beautiful and would one day be a fine man, a fine rider. It was hard to tell if it was a disbelief that it could be so easy to tell the future of an individual, the world being the twisting place that it was, or sadness that maybe it wouldn't turn out that way, or hope that it would, or simply joy and happiness at having a health son, or shear exhaustion from everything she lived with. More likely than any one of those thing was that it was a mix, to which she would blame the fatigue and drag of the fact that her pregnancy had just ended and she'd just given birth. In any event, the expression smoothed out for a moment as she raised an eyebrow, hiding exasperation, as he thought to comment that she was tired! Shard it! Yes, she was!

At his question, words all of a sudden seemed to fall her with her swirling emotions, which she tried to keep to her back to try to think with rationality for what to do for her Weyr. Then her face seemed to split, as, for a short while, she was vulnerable. It wasn't that she was sad or crying or weak. All she did was smile a very big smile, blue eyes dancing brightly with her sweaty bedraggled red hair made a sharp backdrop around the edges of her face. It wasn't pure happiness. Lines on her face suddenly showed old sadness, and their was very apparent fatigue that was more than physical at every that she felt she had to do with her life. In that, it was possible to see that she was actually quite as sure as she was, not on some deeper level. It was simply pure emotion, and that wasn't what the rational, authoritative head of the Weyr was.

"Yes, I would like it if you kept him, for a little while, well I rested;" she said. With a deep breath, she leaned back into the pillows that supported her, as if it were some great weight off her shoulders. Her eyes closed. "Well you have him, let people see him, and tell everyone that I'm alright. I want a report when I wake up, and reassure Kalith. Tell her to stop brooding. I'm not one of her eggs, and that one is . . . my egg . . . not hers . . ." Even as she was dragged into sleep, she didn't forget her obligation to her position. Even breaking free of the mold that she fit herself in didn't change what she was. In her last moment of wakefulness, she reached out and brushed against the part of her mind that wasn't hers, but her dragons. It was a gentle, reassuring touch, a lifemate touch, better than words, physical or mental, for the both of them.

Out in the cavern part of the weyr, Kalith stopped her pacing at the contact, which had only been somewhat slowed and lulled by the bronze's reassurances. She suddenly turned towards him, eyes swirling a calm blue-green. Daidoroth, would you to go for a flight? The moons are supposed to shine brightly tonight; she asked him, all aggression and snapping gone from her tone. Without waiting for a reply, she lunged forward, clearing the ledge as she burst out into the open air beyond it. With a flap of her strong wings, she pushed herself skyward. A triumphant bugle erupted from her powerful body, the sort of cry that was to be answered by all. There was new life in the Weyr! She rose, steadily, quickly, freely. She rose and rose, showing no intention of stopping as she spiraled upward. There was new life in the Weyr!

Even the best fall down sometimes,
Even the wrong words seem to rhyme,
Out of the doubt that fills my mind,
I somehow find you and I collide.

[Kila]

Because it was such an uncommon blessing, O'sho was shocked and almost alarmed at first by the big smile that broke out on Fajra's face. She had been under more stress than he'd thought. The initial surprise quickly gave way to a warm smile of his own. It was amazing how much more beautiful a smile could make one, and the Weyrwoman was no exception. If she showed that face to the world she would be hounded by men, though they would be befuddled and repelled when they bumped with her frosty personality. It would be chaotic. O'sho rather felt honored, as if he hadn't been enough by her bearing their child. He would cherish the fleeting moment like a jewel, the lines of sadness and fatigue not lessening it in the least.

O'sho was delighted that Osro was to be left in his care while Fajra got some well-deserved and much-needed rest. Even as she spoke to him she laid back onto her pillows and began to drift off. "I will," he reassured her before her conciouseness could slip away. "Rest well." My dear. My love? An endearment would have fit there well, but none would be true, nor was one needed. That was not how the dysfunctional couple operated.

O'sho left with light, quiet footfalls, Osro nestled safely in the crook of his arm. After carefully pulling Fajra's door closed behind him, he looked down at the tiny face again. "Hey, little guy," he whispered to him, reaching down with his free hand. Osro reached up pudgy, unsteady arms and held onto one of his Da's fingers with a coo. O'sho's smile shone strong. "Mommy's going to get some rest now, so why don't we let her be? Let's go say hello for a little while." Daidoroth and Kalith would have been the first he would have proudly shown the baby to, but all he found of them on the ledge was their retreating forms in the sky and the echoing of their happy calls.

Kalith had all at once become very calm, her agitation and irritability vanished into thin air. It as no doubt the work of Hers. She had calmly asked Daidoroth if he would like to go on a flight with her by the promised shining moons and taken off without an answer. Daidoroth was relieved and pleased by this abrupt change of mood. Of course I will come with you; he replied as he spread his wings and took off after her. The wind and open air carried away all of their previous worries. Opening his maw, Daidoroth happily let call his own bugle to add to her own. Seeing them in the sky, one could not deny that they were stunning side by side.