And baby makes two. [Open for all; tw for mentions of birth but nothing graphic]

[chasingtwisters]

Moira wakes up in the middle of Thursday night with severe pain and the certainty that she's in labor. Her maternal and witch instincts come together as one to tell her so. She spends a few minutes freaking out before she has the sense to call her midwife, a local witch she met through one of her customers soon after she remembered herself. Lila, prompt as ever, arrives nearly thirty seconds after Moira hangs up, teleporting into her living room as they agreed upon.

She spends hours in labor, clutching at the sides of her tub as Lila helps her through it, with magical and comforting words both. Above all else, Moira is terrified. Terrified that she'll be an awful mother; terrified at the sorts of powers her daughter will inherit. Terrified that anyone might try to harm her daughter because of who she is and where she comes from. It sends shudders running through her just as much as the pain does.

"You're almost there," Lila shouts at her. "Come on, girl. Push!"

---

Now the middle of Friday afternoon, Moira sits on her porch, cradling her beautiful daughter in her arms, bundled up in a lilac blanket and dozing. She's texted family and friends, of course, and she's waiting to see who shows up. Moira can't bring herself to look away; her daughter is so precious and small. She's perfect. She's still worried, of course. But more than that, Moira is entirely overcome. She has a daughter. A beautiful, wonderful daughter. And she loves her the way she's never loved anyone else before. She knows that deep in her heart.

"Welcome to the world, Bronwyn Rose Coombs," she whispers for what feels like the millionth time that day.

[ooc: Moira's daughter, Bronwyn Rose! For those curious, this is what Bronwyn looks like. Feel free to have Moira texted your pup if they're close, or to see her on the porch with Bronwyn! Open to all!]

Comments

[chasingtwisters]

"Dad did used to say that I swore like a sailor," Moira agrees. "And that I got my dirty mouth from him. I guess I'm supposed to say that I hope Bronwyn doesn't inherit my tendency for cursing, right?" She turns to Aoife with a grin.

"Hostile is one way of putting it," she nods. She hears the interrupted question and glances at Aoife. For once, she doesn't feel provoked by such a question. "Her father was a witch, too, yeah. A powerful one. She's going to be a force of nature, my girl."

[aoife_coombs]

"She's da-" After hearing the good news - the child wouldn't be a bastard, a mixed child - Aoife leans in to have a better look at her cousin. Oh, no.

She sits upright again, keeping her eyes on the edge of the garden. "You had his tongue. Still do, probably. You never really cared about such a thing, but I do honestly think you will have to censore yourself the first few years. Maybe not because your daughter will recognize the words, but might be scared by of the tone that accompanies those words." Why was she talking about language when she wanted to reminisce some more, hear about Moira's life away from her?

"There are plenty of things that she should definitely inherit from you", she says instead.

[chasingtwisters]

"You're right, of course," Moira admits, following Aoife's gaze out into the garden. Mostly, she has violets and lilacs growing. Her favorite flowers; the shades of purple that remind her of magic and the days before she realized the entirety of the weight behind their family's history. "Sensible, as always," she glances back at Aoife, teasing. "I do hope Bronwyn inherits some of that sensibility."

[aoife_coombs]

"Sensible as always."

There's something brewing underneath her surface though, and Aoife tries to find the right words but her mouth intervenes, even though she knows that she has to weigh every word around her sister. Around this sister. "Why don't the two of you stay at the house for a while?", she blurts out. "You wouldn't have to do everything by yourself, Amelie, Thomas and me can get used to our cousin, and - and, the house is big enough to not be in each other's face all the time."

She looks at her hands. "I had plans on airing it out anyway. Make it the Coombs mansion again, instead of ..house of the evil witch. It's not ..never mind. It's not a well thought through idea. You love your cottage."