Private Balance in Small Things

[Makko Vyres]

LUCIANA

Corazona von Ascania
Makko padded slowly through the dim quiet of the house, bare feet silent against the cool stone.

He couldn't help but think that the old Ukatis house would have benefited from underfloor heating. Not that it would have been on at three in the morning.

Luciana rested against his chest. She was warm and impossibly small, her tiny hand fisted in the fabric near his collarbone. Skin to skin. Makko was wearing pajama trousers and had wrapped a blanket over his shoulders.

He had read that it helped. He didn't much care for any science behind it. He felt closer to his daughter and she was much more likely to fall asleep like this. He swayed gently, instinct clumsy but determined, murmuring nothing words under his breath just to give her something to anchor to besides silence.

Luciana wouldn't remember this. He leaned her back just a fraction to look down at her closed eyes beneath dark curls. Even that slight motion had her draw in a breath and he quickly brought he back close before she could start screaming.

She wouldn't remember this moment, but he would. He had few pleasant memories from his own childhood of his parents. They had been there in body - technically - plugged into the Net. Lost in streams of sensation and data that left no room for a small boy with too much restless energy.

He had learned early how to heat his own meals and how to patch his own cuts.

Makko was learning how to be a father on lesson at a time.

On the sofa across the room, Corazona stirred. The blanket slipped from her shoulder as she blinked awake, blue eyes unfocused at first, then finding them in the half light.

"She's down again," he dared to whisper.

Corazona had brought Luciana out here for a more comfortable position to feed. Makko had followed and walked and bobbed Luciana to try and settle her to give Cora a rest.

He stepped closer to the sofa, careful not to jostle the sleeping bundle against his chest.

"I'm a good human mattress," he said. A faint smile ghosted across his face, but it did not hide the emotion beneath it. He brushed a thumb lightly over Luciana’s back, feeling the steady rise and fall. "I don’t know if I’m doing this right," he admitted quietly.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Makko didn't have to follow her out of the nursery. Cora wouldn't begrudge her husband if he wanted to remain tangled in the sheets, chasing a few more broken hours of desperately needed sleep.

She didn't remember passing out on the couch. Hazy, shadowed shapes blinked into view behind tired eyelids.

Even in the dim lighting, she could make out the line of Luciana's tiny back cradled in Makko's soft touch. Beset by exhaustion in the early hours of the morning, she couldn’t help but find the simple view worth a thousand nights of lost sleep.

Had her father ever held her like that?

"She may be small," Cora murmured while adjusting the straps of her nursing camisole, "but she feeds like a vacuum pump."

She’d been encouraged to hire a wet nurse, because that was how things were done on Ukatis. At least, among aristocratic families.

The last few weeks had been a warpspeed blur of late nights and early mornings. Inconsolable crying blended with the sweetest moments. Cora had never dreamt of this level of exhaustion, nor of this delirious happiness.

Makko's admission came soft and quiet, on the cusp of a tender gesture. Cora drew her legs from the latter half of the couch to make room.

She smiled at the slight bundle pressed to his chest, a little hand curled into the blanket.

"She thinks you are. And so do I."

Cora watched the tiny rise and fall of Luciana's back. Could she even dream yet? If she could, what was she envisioning?

"I miss her when she's asleep," came her whisper.

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

MAKKO

Makko smiled and held back a chuckle, careful not to let it jostle the small, sleeping weight against his chest.

"Vacuum pump?" he murmured. He looked down at Luciana. "If you used less energy screaming you might not need as much to eat..."

As a first time parent in the first few weeks of chaos, he immediately felt guilty for saying it.

He stepped closer and eased himself down onto the edge of the couch where Cora had made space. He moved with exaggerated caution as if he were defusing something volatile.

Sometimes moving helped. Sometimes moving woke her up.

Luciana gave a faint sigh but did not wake. Makko stilled instantly, breath caught, until her tiny body settled again into that steady rhythm.

"I miss her when she’s asleep too," he admitted.

He glanced down at their daughter and smiled in silence for a moment.

"When can babies smile?" he asked suddenly. It constantly felt like there were things he didn't know.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora too, held completely still until Lucy settled back against her father's chest.

Then, she nestled her chin gently against the crook of his neck, suppressing the urge to press a kiss to their sleeping daughter's forehead.

"In a few months, I think," she whispered back. They simply sat there in silence, listening to the cadence of Lucy's breathing as if it was the only thing needed to sustain them.

"It feels like we're flailing sometimes, doesn't it?" It was phrased carefully, slowly. Cora had many younger siblings, but she had never been responsible for midnight feedings, changings, and the like. "A part of me was surprise that they just…let us leave the hospital with her."

The nurses had seemed so knowledgeable. They'd assured the couple that Lucy was perfectly healthy, and yes, that they would most likely be fine. They'd settle into a rhythm on their own through the chaos.

Even in the dark, Cora's eyes traced along the shapes of loose, wispy curls. It made her impossibly happy for their daughter to have inherited Makko's hair. She wondered what else their daughter had inherited, and from whom.

"We fought so hard to get here, didn't we?"

Cora couldn't help but think that all the pain they'd endured was worth this singular moment. Exhausted, slightly delirious, but happier and more fulfilled than they'd ever been.

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

Makko smiled in silence for a fee seconds. He was imagining Luciana smiling at them both. It was hard to even think of what that would feel like. Just imagining it was almost overwhelming.

"Flailing?" he echoed quietly. "Yeah. That sounds about right."

They had just walked out of the hospital with packs of medicine and an impossibly small baby in a speeder seat.

His hand shifted instinctively, broad palm spanning more of Luciana’s back than seemed possible. She felt impossibly small beneath it. Fragile. She had already upended their entire world with nothing more than a cry and a grip of her fingers.

"Turns out they just hand you a human being and wish you luck."

Luciana stirred at the vibration from the laugh that almost formed. He went very still, but all she did was turn her head to the other side.

His thumb moved in slow circles through the blanket.

When she asked if they had fought hard to get here, his jaw tightened slightly. Not in anger. It was simply Makko passing through all the memories.

"Yeah," he agreed. "We did."

He thought of Denon’s underlevels. He thought about watching her wedding on a small screen.

"I used to think about fighting for survival," he murmured.

"It's about more than that. We fought so we could have our family. Our life. And more for her," Makko said, looking down at Luciana.

"The lift wasn't... Like... So traumatic? We're still going to have more in a few years?"

"Sorry," Makko added. "That sounded so blunt. You know what I mean."