July 22, 2013

In Which Tivie Is Called Out by an Ear

March 21, 1182

Neither Tivie nor Neilor could lay claim to a fantastic relationship with their opposite-sexed parent, which was why Tivie, at least, had been living these past months in fear of how she was ever going to be a decent mother to a little boy when the most she'd seen of her father as a child was the occasional late birthday letter if he'd remembered at all. It was an irrational worry, seeing as Tivie would never be a father and any son she bore would never be a daughter, but it had eaten at her heart nonetheless, to the point where she wondered if it might be a mercy to have her stepsister raise the poor thing.

For all she knew, Neilor had nursed a similar dread of a baby girl, and while she hadn't wanted to ask him... well, that only compounded her reservations about this baby. If she couldn't handle a boy, and he couldn't handle a girl, then what could it be to please both of them? Even if babies were by nature functionally sexless?

But their baby was not sexless beyond the functional level, nor was their baby the hermaphrodite Tivie had entertained near the end as a compromise. Their baby was most assuredly a girl.

And a Daddy's Girl, at that, if Neilor's apparent infatuation was anything to go by, and Tivie wasn't sure how she felt about that. On one hand--if Neilor could so quickly forget any reservations he'd had about having a girl, then Tivie herself could do the same if they ever had a boy. On the other...

Well, she wondered if she might be jealous. Not over Neilor's particular attention, but over that status in general. Tivie had never been a Daddy's Girl, as that required having a daddy who was actually around.

"Are you all right?" Mindful of the baby, Neilor turned his eyes over to Tivie. Their daughter had those same eyes; he must have been relieved not to see his mother's staring back at him.

Tivie nodded, not wanting to give him cause to worry. With luck, there wouldn't be cause to worry, and she would get over this. With luck. "Yes. Just thinking."

"Want to hold her?" He lowered her down from his shoulder and into a cradle of an arm, though outward in offering. "I sort of feel like I've been hogging her. I hope you don't mind."

"It's fine." She stood to take him up on the offer. It would do her good to hold her baby, she decided. She already loved her daughter, but the extra effort couldn't hurt, especially in regards to the mixed feelings. Maybe her daughter couldn't technically be a Daddy's Girl if both her parents doted on her. "Hello, Dani."

The baby gurgled--not something Tivie had ever seen the grandmother and namesake do, but no name could tame a baby. "Are you hungry?"

Another gurgle, but no suckling--not yet, at least. Though, that would be sooner than Tivie preferred, she was sure of it. "All right. Just let me know when."

Not that that would be an issue, if she recalled every other baby she'd ever known correctly.

"I think she has your nose, Tiv." Hardly. Dani wasn't old enough to have anyone's nose just yet.

Though with any luck, it would not be her grandfather's.

"I think she has her own nose. And I think she has her own brain too, which is why she's rubbing her ear on my cheek--that's Baby for 'You're full of shit', you know."

Neilor snickered. Tivie wondered if that was a horrible sign, if not even a few hours later and she was already cursing in front of her infant, but that thought just led to another bout of ear-rubbing.



Van said...

Bah. It's all thundery here and the sky is sulfur-colored. :S

Ann said...

D'awwwwwwwws! Hello Dani! You show those parents of yours that they've got nothing to worry about, okay? ^^
So cute! All three of them!

Eh, not a very attractive color, sulfur. I hope the storm breaks soon and clears the air.
I wish we had a storm in the offing too, because this heat is too much for me. But also stormwatching!

Van said...

Yeah, I don't see that anyone will need to worry all that much. They're better than Searle and Elarys, and they'll realize it soon enough. ;)

Shitty weather everywhere. Go home, Earth, you're drunk.