Work Text:
As soon as his daughter is in his arms, it’s all over.
Searing pain that had racked his body. Screams that tore through his gritted teeth. Sweat and tears dripping down his face. All of it—gone. None of it matters once he is holding her.
All he can devote his attention to is her scrunched up face as she settles from her screaming, taking her first breaths in this world. Her tiny balled up hands, the tufts of hair on her head.
She’s beautiful.
He can’t help but smile so wide his own face hurts as he watches the motions across hers.
Do you have a name for her? Mother asks.
He does. Instantly. It’s his middle name, one that’s been in the family for years.
He doesn’t look away from her as he speaks. Juliana.
Some fountain of joy has been unlocked in his chest that he never knew existed before this. He can’t help but laugh. What else is there in this moment than this life he has created? Than my daughter?
A wave of protectiveness washes over him as he repeats the phrase my daughter to himself over and over. If that’s even the best way to describe it. If there even is a best way to describe it.
He doesn’t think there are any words for it, actually. Only that it’s something that settles deep into his bones, into every part of his body.
There is no length he wouldn’t go to for her. No mountain he wouldn’t move, or plane he wouldn’t rend. Whatever she needed, whatever she wanted, he would do it for her.
All Juliana has to do is ask, and he’ll pull the stars from the sky.
The real wave is the exhaustion that follows his elation. He’s just given birth and he is so fucking tired.
Laying back to rest, he holds his daughter close to his chest, keeping her cradled in his arms. Mother suggests that he hand Juliana to her so he can get some proper sleep.
He refuses, settling into a position that will keep her secure. It’ll be fine, Mother.
She doesn’t seem convinced. That doesn’t stop him.
I love you, he whispers to Juliana as he feels himself drifting to sleep.
I don’t know you yet, but I love you.