|Fic: My Little One
||[Sep. 11th, 2011|02:42 am]
Old POTC Plot Bunny Revivals
|||||cheerful||]| Title: My Little One
Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and its associated characters belong to Disney and I made no profit off of this fic. I only borrowed them for a bit.
Author's Notes: *wibble* In response to ericadawn16’s prompt: “James Norrington and… a baby...” James Norrington was pacing up and down the hallway. The screams and cries that had come from beyond the closed bedroom door had ceased some time ago and no one had yet emerged to give him any news. He felt dizzy and sick with worry, clenching his hands into fists, trying to ignore the heavy knot of dread in the pit of his stomach. He was convinced that something had gone terribly wrong and the silence only seemed to support his worst fears.
When the door opened at last, James whirled around to greet the mid-wife as she emerged from the bedroom. His words poured out of his mouth in a confused jumble, voice shaking with worry. “How is…what’s…is she…?”
The mid-wife smiled knowingly. First-time fathers were always the same. She had seen many, in high places and low, and each one, in their apprehension, seemed to possess the uncanny ability to lose all control over the English language. Except, perhaps, for that one young gentleman…he hadn’t said anything at all…but, he had been unconcious on the floor at the time. “Mother and child are just fine, Commodore, it was an easy delivery.” He nodded, but stared at her with wide, rounded green eyes. She knew what his next words were going to be and she decided to save him the trouble of trying to form another coherent sentence and answered his question before he had the chance to ask it. “Your wife has been delivered…of a daughter.” She smiled and stepped aside, opening the path to the door to him.
James couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. His legs, moving of their own accord, slowly carried him to the doorway, where he stopped to look in on the scene inside.
His wife was sitting upright in bed against a mound of pillows, directing a joyful and exhausted smile to the bundle in her arms. He thought her beautiful, more beautiful, perhaps, in this moment than any other. When she heard him arrive at the door, she looked up at him and beamed.
He entered the room with slow, tentative steps. He kept his eyes trained on hers as he sat down beside her, unsure of what to say, unsure if he could even speak. When she began to pass the bundle to him, his anxiety rose again. What am I to do? How am I to do it? The bundle came to rest in the crook of his arm and it suddenly felt as if it were the most natural thing in the world, holding this child, his child. As he gazed down at the tiny, round face, all his worries and fears melted away.
His wife smiled again at seeing the change in his expression. It wasn’t a sudden change, but she knew him well enough to recognize the nuances in his emotions. She no longer saw the Commodore, she saw the man, gazing upon his newborn child for the first time with all the love and pride he posessed.
James found the child’s hand amidst the blankets and tears welled in his eyes when he felt her tiny grasp close around his finger. “Hello, my little one,” he said softly and he could have sworn his daughter smiled back at him.
Comments are appreciated. :)