Dorset Coast - Wonderland | Rossian

        Monday, October 29, 1923  

5:30 PM
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Shit.

Rosalie's breath caught in her throat as she wrapped her shawl around her a little tighter, watching out the window as Cassian wandered up the walk towards the front door. She turned, paced a moment, deciding if she'd go down to greet him or wait for him to come up. When she heard the front door unlatch, the decision was made for her. She sat quickly on the edge of the bed, focusing on the soft muted hisses of the ocean than the sound of him entering the house.

Dinner hadn't been made. The fireplace hadn't been started, sitting cold and empty. Breakfast dishes sat unwashed in the sink. She'd been far too distracted for any of her afternoon chores, the morning's dirty laundry still sitting in the basket she'd left in the upstairs hallway.

That morning, after Cassian had left for London, Rosalie had followed shortly after. Waiting just enough time to ensure he wouldn't realize she'd left home, she'd taken the floo to King's Cross Station and then apparated to Mungo's. She could have told him she was going out. She could have said she was meeting Kate or Eira or Julia for brunch. Perhaps even a little shopping. He would have believed her.

She didn't want to lie to him. It was easier not to say anything.

Cassian was a worrier, and had she told him she needed a doctor, he would have blown off work and insisted he come with her. She didn't need him to accompany her, perfectly fine to just handle the whole inconvenience herself.

"Congratulations, Mrs. McCormick. You're expecting!"

The nurse was far more joyous in the news of Rosalie's baby than the girl who carried it. She'd sat, white-knuckled, gripping the edge of the chair they'd given her. Her expression fell from the neutral apathy she'd felt about the whole appointment - certain that the upset stomach she'd secretly had for the last four days was just food poisoning - to quiet terror. "W-What...?" The question had squeaked out of her, disbelief holding her by the throat.

The nurse, having recognized immediately that the news wasn't welcome, cleared her throat and leveled her own expression. She smiled her apology. "A baby, Mrs. McCormick. About six weeks along."

Six weeks. Rosalie repeated the words to herself over and over as she wandered aimlessly along the streets of London, the paperwork the healer had given her tucked neatly into her purse. Six weeks. That meant...the night of Kate's show. They'd had drinks, a few of them. They'd gotten home and he'd teased her...said she'd owed him and...

She must have paced the house a dozen times from the moment she'd gotten home. Up the stairs, down again, around the kitchen and through the living space. Back up the stairs. Fawn had followed her every step, curious as to what had her human so thoroughly unlike herself, until the poor demiguise wore herself out and curled up for a nap.

Now, Rosie waited, her leg bouncing nervously beneath her dress. She heard him call for her, but she couldn't manage to answer, not when so many emotions were swirling through her head. When he appeared in the doorway, her blue eyes immediately shot to his, and the emotion that surged forward the strongest was....

...Sorrow.

"Hi." It came out a whisper, and her gaze fell to her lap. Rosalie always thought that maybe if this day ever came again, she'd feel conflicted. A mix of joy and grief, but both feelings there. Fair, she'd thought, all things considered. Instead, where the joy should have been, there was fear, a genuine belief that she'd fail again. That it would be taken from them again.

Cassian had never handled the idea of being a parent well. In the abstract sense, he loved to dream and plot a future full of little ones with her eyes and his smile. In reality, when given the news, he'd shut down or spiraled. Aside from her own feelings on the matter, she'd resigned herself to expecting his reaction this time would be the same. Could she blame him, especially with how the last one ended? He had grieved that baby too.

"There's no gentle way to say this I guess." She raised her eyes to meet his again. "I'm pregnant."

What. A. Day.

Cassian walked up the stone pathway, feeling the strain of a day filled with schedules, documentation, meetings he was forced to sit in on, errands he had to run and a concerning number of 'concerned visitors' who didn't seem to understand how visiting the minister actually worked. He'd heard things – seen them, too. Being an administrative assistant, it was far from his job to tell the minister how to run the English wizarding world, even if he was married to his cousin. He wasn't sure he liked where the new policies he helped process were going, feeling a sense of unease about the whole thing, but his father had made it clear he shouldn't be trying to make waves around the office.

As if he would.

It had been over a year now in the position, but Cassian had never allowed himself to get too comfortable. It was useful. The pay was good for the life they lived, and without higher education, it really wasn't the worst he could do, but it was office work. Politics? Policies? Governance? Most of that went right over his head, not because he couldn't understand but because it...wasn't something he could bring himself to focus on.

He didn't like the way it seemed the minister was starting to single out muggleborns, harkening back to the way his pureblooded peers had found every reason to sneer at him for his own blood. Cassian thought it might send the wrong message about individual value and cause even greater social imbalances. But he'd always been the practical sort. One disgruntled underling would never stop the machine from turning.

Rather than getting himself worked up and beginning to actively resent the thing currently putting food on their table and fund a softer life for his wife, Cass chose to keep his head down, focusing on the theatre the minister had no control over and the life he had outside the ministry. None of his friends were muggle-born, but several were muggle. If he started unpacking too much, his father would have some big problems to worry about every time his son got to work.

As he got to the door, he heard the sound of enthused barking. The blur of dark brown and orange fur caught his attention from the corner of his eyes. Cass turned in time to see Rook bounding from the side of the house he knew Rosie's lilacs happened to be. Covered in mud...it wasn't looking good. He knelt to greet their newest member of their little family. He'd seen the pup a time or two when he'd first begun building, abandoned most likely. He'd disappeared for a while, returning thin as bones, injured and in need of care, but remembering the kindness of the young man who'd often shared his lunch. Who were they – who was he, really – to turn away the creature who'd witnessed him raise his house from nothing?

"What mischief have you gotten yourself into? She might kill you this time, you know?" The pup was too pleased to care, licking and barking in excitement.

With a flick of his wand, he got the German shepherd clean. "Can't have you walking in like that. That's practically a confession."

Cass straightened, opening the door to allow them both in. He did find it strange Rook was still outside. Being on the meadow for so long, they figured it wouldn't do to lock him in all the time, but Rosie usually took him back in by this time of the late afternoon.

Inside, there was more to catch his attention. The living room had the chill of October, not helped along by the wind that swept in from the ocean. Dark eyes moved immediately to the fireplace. Empty. Huh. Cass moved into the living room, resting his briefcase on the island counter. It was then that he noticed the pile of breakfast dishes, and immediately he grew hesitant.

"Rosie?" he called. The place was hardly a mess, but all signs pointed to Rosie not being home all day. Even when she went out (as she was certainly free to do. He wanted her days being free and hers to spend as she pleased) she'd always cleaned up first and was usually home before he got there. The cottage didn't smell of her cooking but of the stiff sea air and flora. "Rosie?" he called again, trying to fight the sudden spike of panic.

Every nerve in his body tried telling him that he recognised the scene—that something must've happened. Someone had come looking – but who? And how? The place was well warded against surprise visitors. That never stopped them before, he thought grimly. His mouth went dry, a cold shiver suddenly running down his spine while adrenaline began to hum inside his veins.

No answer? Why wasn't she answering?

Cassian could feel his heart inside his throat. Slowly, he could feel the sensation draining from his muscles, but he had to find her. Rook bounded up the stairs, and Cassian followed. His heartbeat boomed inside his ears like echoing war drums, his own trepidation contrasting sharply against the pup's exuberance.

Rook skidded into the room, Cassian appearing through the door seconds later—

Oh, Merlin, there she was.

"Hi."

The whisper made his stomach drop. Blood drained from his face, inviting a pallor that left him almost ashen. "What...what's happened?" he asked, not needing any great declarations to surmise that calamity had found them yet again. Why else would she look the way she did and hold herself so contained on their bed?

"There's no gentle way to say this I guess."

Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god. His head was spinning, his muscles clenching while they waited to hear of the injustice they would have to right.

I'm pregnant."

Oh, go—

Oh.

Oh gooooood.

The words replayed in his mind, turning over and over without him really understanding. His brain was still processing the fact that no great devastation had befallen his wife, and he wasn't about to add another body to his list.

'Oh, fuck. Thank God." He slid onto the bed next to her, his hand resting at the back of her head so he could pull her close. Cassian kissed the top of her head, allowing himself the opportunity to breathe after the spiral he'd just fallen down. Not hurt. No one was dead. They weren't about to enter another fight for their lives. She was simply—

"Wait, what?"

Rook skidded in, his energy and enthusiasm after having been left outside exploding through the otherwise silent room. He hopped up on the bed, disturbing the demiguise who'd been napping on Rosie's pillow. Fawn leapt from her spot, whispering scolds at the dog who made himself perfectly comfortable.

Rosie couldn't focus on any of it. Her eyes remained on Cassian, watching for his reaction. It was clear she'd worried him - whether it was the cold house, not answering him, or a bit of everything, she didn't know. But she supposed it didn't matter. Once her announcement settled on him, his current worry would be an instant distant memory.

"Oh, fuck. Thank God."

....

......

What? As he sat down beside her and pulled her into him, her eyes fluttered, her head reeling more than it had just moments ago. Thank God...what...what had he thought she was going to say? Of all the reactions she had expected from Cassian this one definitely had to be listed among the 'never even considered' bunch.

Was he...happy? Rosalie didn't know what to think, even as he kissed her forehead, and all at once, she felt guilt surge through her again.

"Wait, what?"

There it was. Rosalie swallowed hard as she pulled away from him, letting her gaze find his. She knew, pragmatically, that it would be different this time. They had a beautiful, warm, secure home. They had the means to properly care for a baby. No one was hunting them or trying to hurt them. She was eating. He wasn't using potions. Things were ideal, she supposed, but she didn't know if she was ready. If her heart was. If she felt Cassian was far enough out of the woods yet.

She drew her lips inward for a moment as she turned to reach for the paper she'd laid on the bed behind her. Rook had made himself a bed of it, making no effort to move as she struggled to yank it from under him. Taking a deep breath, she handed it to Cassian and waited, giving him a chance to look it over. "Six weeks. The night of Kate's show."

"So that's that," she said quickly, rising from the bed, suddenly anxious to make herself busy. There was still that laundry she needed to wash, but it'd have to wait until morning now. She could whip up dinner fast and have the dishes wash themselves. Rook and Fawn needed to be fed, and the downstairs could use a fresh sweeping.

The faster she could make her hands move, the faster she could put everything out of her mind until...well she didn't know until when.

She couldn't look at him, afraid she'd see her own terror mirrored in his expression.

He couldn't say when the paper arrived in his hand. There were, frankly, an alarming number of things that Cassian, in that moment, couldn't say.

The panic that had scrambled his mind on the way up was quickly disappearing but only to be replaced by a thicker fog. Pregnant. Intellectually, he knew what the word meant. His wife was carrying his child. There would be a baby. They'd been here before; he knew the mechanics – at least in the beginning. Healer visits. Healthy dieting. A stiffening abdomen as the pregnancy progressed. Cassian could even spell the word. Truly, it wasn't a foreign concept, yet in that moment, Rosalie may as well have been speaking another language.

Six weeks.

Before he could attempt the futile task of counting down, she provided the answer. The night of Kate's performance. He remembered the night. It wasn't a great mystery. He'd been civil, and he'd been rewarded, and then he'd never thought about the night again.

A ripple in a wider timeline, and now it had come back around.

Pregnant.

"So that's that."

That....that was that...? The moment his wife rose from the bed, his hand subconsciously reached out to grab her. He took hold of her by the wrist, tugging her back down to the bed and his level, where everything was spinning too greatly for him to gain a proper understanding.

"You're....you said that you're..." The words tapered off into silence. Pregnant. The word itself became a little clearer. It wasn't abstract, it wasn't 'someday'; it was sitting with them in their bedroom, listening with them to the sound of the crashing eaves. Cass took in a deep breath, his lungs expanding until they pushed his chest outward. He exhaled slowly, allowing the reality the opportunity to wrap itself snuggly around his mind.

This was as familiar, and Cassian could feel the panic try to rise again. This time it was tempered by a greater reality. Who they were a year ago wasn't who they happened to be now. He wasn't working long hours in a hot factory. Rosie wasn't forced into night work that had her returning when it was time for him to get going. Her days were light and hers to do with as she chose. The money he had had been enough for savings. Not a lot, but enough that his chest didn't constrict at the thought of all the supplies they would need to purchase.

A baby, a baby for him and his wife, in a cottage that had been home for nearly a year.

Would they ever be more ready than they were sitting in their own place with the danger having let them be for so long?

A record scratched the moment he became aware of his own silence. They'd been there, too. Rosie sharing what she thought was good news and him unable to give her what she needed.

"It's not – don't get me wrong, this...this is good news, I promise," he hurried to say. "I just—shit—" Cassian sprang to his feet, his limbs not entirely sure what they were meant to do with themselves. He moved before her, sinking to his knees between her legs. His arms wrapped around her, his eyes boring into hers. "I'm happy, I really am, Just...just tell me what I need to do. Are you hungry? I can--I mean, I can make something. Cravings? What do you need? Are you feeling sick? Are your feet sore?"

He'd made a mess of this the first...............................and second time. This time, he wanted to do it right.

His hand closed around her wrist and gently tugged, pulling her back to the bed. She went easily, despite her sudden rise and need to move.

She was shaking.

She had held it fairly together while the healer had seen her out of her appointment, a list of follow-ups already scheduled and written down for her on a small card. She'd been dazed, but calm as she made her way home. Her pacing had kept her nerves at an even level, higher than usual, but managed as she prepared to break the news to her husband.

Speaking the words into existence should have given Rosalie some relief, knowing it was no longer only her secret to hold. Cassian was her partner in every aspect of life, and they'd weather everything together. She should have taken comfort in knowing that she had a place to lean on, even if he turned out to be just as scared as she was.

But they didn't. They only made the entire situation feel that much more real. Real in that she could get attached again. Real in that she could miscarry again. Real in that Cassian wouldn't be ready and....maybe this news would set him back into things he'd worked so hard to leave behind him. Could Rosie survive it again? If history repeated itself, albeit without the violence of her father's wand, could she endure that experience again? A part of her - a very large part - was terrified she couldn't, and what that would mean.

"You're....you said that you're..."

She nodded, but didn't fill in the word for him, even as silence filled their bedroom. Pregnant. When this had happened with their first baby, she'd been filled with joy and elation, ready to scream from the mountaintops that she was going to be a mum. She hated that that same joy had been stripped from this moment. She didn't know how to reach for it. Wouldn't she be betraying their first baby? Moving forward and looking forward to a new little one who - with the grace of God or Merlin - would cry and smile. Laugh and throw tantrums. Experience the world and all its wonders, while his or her parents forgot all about the first one whose life and potential was stolen?

She was afraid to feel something about this one - even hope - lest it mean she was replacing her first.

"It's not – don't get me wrong, this...this is good news, I promise."

"No. No!" Rosie tried to say, wanting to reassure him she wasn't taking his silence the wrong way, when she couldn't even make sense of her own feelings. She shook her head emphatically. "I don't - "

"I just—shit—"

He knelt between her legs, his arms wrapping gently around her waist. What was he doing?

"I'm happy, I really am, Just...just tell me what I need to do. Are you hungry? I can--I mean, I can make something. Cravings? What do you need? Are you feeling sick? Are your feet sore?"

She blinked, astonished, not because she knew Cassian to be intentionally cruel or aloof, but because she simply hadn't expected his reaction to be any different than it had been previously. Truthfully, Rosie didn't know if there would ever be a time she shared with Cassian that they were expecting and that he'd show anything but fear or dismay. This...he wasn't jumping for joy, but....

He was so incredibly sweet.

Rosie wanted to smile. She wanted to cry. She wanted to melt with relief right into him, but she was too lost in her swirling mind to force one action or another. His eyes bore into hers. Beautiful, warm and full of all the riches of Earth. Eyes she hoped the little one she was carrying would have. Eyes that held unconditional love for her, and a desire to care for her in whatever way that looked like.

"I'm really scared." Her admittance was quiet, but honest. "I don't know if I'm ready," it was too late for that now, "I want to be happy, but...what if...I lose this one too?"

She was shaking.

Cassian could feel her shaking.

He just didn't know why. Rosie had always wanted to be a mother. Even living inside the depths of poverty, tired and unsure about what the next day might throw at them, his wife had been ready to throw all caution to the wind and welcome a child. She hadn't held the same trepidations, seeming almost incapable of recognising the terrible position they'd both been in the last time there was a baby on the table. Cass could still remember how cornered he'd felt by her exuberance. If, with everything else happening, she could still be excited...then what the fuck had it said about him?

Maybe she was excited now. Maybe this was simply mixed in with a new awareness that had sprung from the last...their last... It was another thought he didn't want to continue. Most days, Cassian thought he was past the death of their child. He knew it had been for the best – that they really weren't in a position to take care of him and that life itself had been hostile. But there were days he found himself with a little extra time at his desk or a free moment in the theatre when he didn't think about future tasks but about how differently their life had turned out and how...he'd have been fine.

If her father and Mrs. Rousseau and the world hadn't made the decision for them, the hard time would've passed...and their son would still be there.

That made him angry more often than it didn't, but, in that moment, it morphed into its own strange form of hope. It told him that, even if life went to hell in a flaming basket the very next day, they'd come through the other end and would still be there. It told him that today's impossibility was tomorrow's accomplishment.

He was scared. Merlin knew he was scared. He'd never been someone's father and wasn't all the way sure he knew how, but...but the fear...it didn't feel like enough reason to run from something he knew he wanted. How many years had he and Rosie spent imagining curly-haired children playing around her skirts?

"I'm really scared. I don't know if I'm ready."

"...What a relief," he heard himself mutter through another heavy breath. She was scared, too. For the first time, it felt like they were coming from the same place. She wasn't excited while dread clenched his chest cavity inward. She wasn't seeing nurseries and bassinets while he tried to figure out who would watch the baby. That...that already felt like a safer start. "Me, too." It felt safer to admit now that she had. He didn't feel ready. Hell, maybe he never would, but it no longer felt like an indictment to say so.


"I want to be happy, but...what if...I lose this one too?"

"Hey..." Cass reached a hand up to cup her face, wanting her to really look at him. "You won't." It sounded suspiciously like a promise, though he was in no position to give one. "What happened...that...the people who'd have been happy to take our happiness away again are already gone. No one's taking you anywhere ever again – no one's getting the fucking chance. "

There had been many things that Cassian had had to do since the day they'd first left England, each a little more consuming than the one before. The young man was prepared to scorch the entire earth before he ever watched the light leave his wife's eyes like that ever again. He would wrangle death itself.

"We're safe now. I'm here and I'll protect you – protect you both, no matter what it takes." He brushed his thumb lightly against her cheek. "This time will be different; you'll see."

"...What a relief. Me, too."

A relief. He was scared too. Rosalie had expected that he might be, and she wouldn't find any fault with it; not this time. She understood now, having so much innocence and naivety stripped away from her, that these sorts of changes - life changes - naturally did come with some fear. She thought perhaps his fear was different than hers - maybe he was more afraid of the actual change in their marriage, or what being a father might entail. But regardless of where his fears lay or hers, she...had to agree. It was a relief, to know that she wasn't the only one.

Previously, she had blamed him. She'd never really said it out loud, but there had been disappointment, and maybe even some resentment that Cassian had been fearful of this very thing. She hadn't been able to understand what he was so afraid of, why he couldn't find enough joy to let it take precedence over any doubts or worries he had.

She understood now, and she regretted ever holding his feelings against him.

"Hey..."

He cupped her face, his hand warm and strong against her skin, steadying her breathing as she found her way back to his gaze. Rosalie had never thought she would be the one in need of reassurance, but as she sat on the edge of that bed, a variety of scenarios rushing through her mind, she found herself wanting him to be the stronger one.

"You won't."

He said it with such surety, like he already knew. Her hands came to rest on his arms, rubbing slowly up and down to center herself and expel some of the nerves that had taken hold of her. She wanted to believe. She wanted to know that her body wouldn't betray her this time. That she could be a safe, warm place for Cassian's child until he or she was ready to come into the world, lungs healthy and strong.

Rosie knew logically that the miscarriage hadn't been her fault, nor was a miscarriage ever really anyone's fault. So long as the mother wasn't doing dangerous things - which she hadn't been - there was no justification for blaming herself when it happened.

"What happened...that...the people who'd have been happy to take our happiness away again are already gone. No one's taking you anywhere ever again – no one's getting the fucking chance. "

They were gone. Anyone who had ever wanted to hurt them, who had ever wanted to destroy them from the inside out, was gone. Rotting away in a cold, damp prison cell, having their souls sucked away slowly by dementors. Leo and Arthur could never hurt them again. They could never break into the sanctity of their home and steal the joy and life from them.

Cassian and Rosalie were surrounded now with love, support and people who wanted good things for them. Their home was safe. Cassian had warded the place so thoroughly that no one could approach or even cross onto their land without both of them instantly knowing. If somehow, Rosie's body failed again, it wouldn't be because of anyone else forcing it.

"We're safe now. I'm here and I'll protect you – protect you both, no matter what it takes."

She melted. Her expression fell, eyes clouding with moisture that she immediately wiped away. It was what she needed to hear. Cassian had always protected her. Always. When no one else did. In the most frightening moments of their lives. Even in the quiet ones, like these, his gentle words reassuring her against the fear that tried to ruin what should be joyous.

But hearing it, so fiercely, and knowing that her husband would protect her and their baby with everything he had, it gave her a sense of peace. She didn't have to carry all of this alone. She could tell him how terrified she was, and he would meet her there with understanding and the strength she didn't have at the moment.

"This time will be different; you'll see."

A small smile peeked from the corner of her lips as she nodded, leaning in so she could wrap her arms around his neck. Rosie laid her head on his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck for comfort. It would be different.

It would be different.

"Thank you," she whispered, full of gratitude for the man she loved. Relief slowly took hold, stronger this time, weaving its way through her body until it came to rest on her chest. With time, the shaking slowed and her breathing regulated again, safe in knowing that she had him and he had her.

She pulled back a bit, choosing to believe him. In a few short months, they'd have a little one of their own. A baby to love and dote on together. Half him, half her. Their love made real in one tiny human. She could...allow herself to find some excitement in that, couldn't she? She was still scared, still unsure if she was ready, but maybe...everything really would be okay. She kissed him before resting her forehead against his.

"You're going to be a dad," she said quietly, incredulity finally taking over. She kissed him again. "The best one in the entire world."

"Thank you."

She didn't need to thank him. From the moment they'd run together – long before that, even – Cassian knew that Rosie wanted to be a mother. When they'd had that scare in their sixth year, her first instinct hadn't been like his. She hadn't felt like the world was falling beneath her feet or like she was being trapped by a force outside of herself. In the middle of everything going to shit in France, it had still been what she wanted. To watch her suddenly uncertain, feeling as if she couldn't trust that they could be happy... it felt like something for him to fix.

He needed to, for both their sakes. There was a part of him that needed to know that when the world brought her doubt in a tattered gift box, he wasn't powerless to change it.

Maybe the promise was ambitious. Maybe there really wasn't anything he would be able to do if things took a turn for the worst. The first time Rosie had fallen pregnant, Cassian had done everything he could to get his hands on maternity books. It hadn't been easy in a country that preferred furnishing literature in its own language, but he'd found two in an old bookshop that sold both new and used items. The most terrifying thing he'd read hadn't been the way babies needed constant 'round-the-clock' care or that they could sometimes fall ill for inexplicable reasons. It was that, even after doing everything one could, a pregnancy could simply... end.

How did one defend against something like that? How would he? Cass didn't know, but seeing the smile fight its way back onto her lips, he supposed he would have to find a way.

"I'll do everything I can to protect you, you know that."

Whether he would be successful... he chose not to think about. They would already have enough to contend with in the following months, and Cassian preferred not to spend that time looking for danger behind every corner. It wasn't that he wouldn't brace himself, but he also knew that Rosie could read him like a book. If he spent the pregnancy tense, how could he convince her that she was fine?

"You're going to be a dad."

................... Yeah.

He was still getting around to that part. It went without saying that Rosie being pregnant meant he was going to be a father, but he'd still been stuck processing the part where she was pregnant at all. It made sense, given how... fond of each other they happened to be. Out there on the cliff at the edge of the meadow, no one to tell them yes or no and a job that didn't actively steal his soul? It left them with a lot of time. The end result? Another life and more anxiety than he'd felt in a while.

Despite the churning he felt inside his stomach, Cassian chose to believe it was still a good thing. A great thing. This baby was going to be different, and he wanted it clear that he—or she—was wanted from the very beginning. That was how he wanted their story starting.

"The best one in the entire world."

"I hope so."

He wanted to be good for the baby's sake. He wanted him – or her – looking back at their childhood and not resenting him for the things he did or didn't do. Would he make mistakes? Without a doubt, but he didn't want them to be the unforgivable kind. "But you'll be, too – a mother, I mean. There's no one kinder or more loving. I couldn't think of anyone I'd be happier knowing will carry them and raise them."

It had always been Rosie, even before they could decide what they were.

"I'll do everything I can to protect you, you know that."

She did know that. Cassian was the one person she knew would not just protect her, but sacrifice his own life for her. Whether bleeding out on a dock or in a dark forest clearing, he had always offered up the greatest gesture of love.

Rosalie hadn't grown up feeling safe. She'd been born behind tall walls, meant to keep others out but only succeeded in holding everyone within it prisoner. The monsters had always been hidden in the portraits, honey-brown eyes staring down from their pedestals. She'd been raised to be quiet, to be acceptable, to be obedient. Stepping out of those expectations had brought consequences down on her from those men who were meant to be her strongest shields.

And yet it had been a gentle-hearted boy with freckles dotting the bridge of his nose that had stood in their place. She'd never had to ask it of him. He had done it on his own, for no other reason than....he loved her.

She nodded, her smile softening further. "I know."

He hoped he would be a great father, but there wasn't a single doubt in Rosalie's mind. Cassian would fall head-over-heels in love with his child. He would dote on their baby, sing to him - or her - , tell stories that he'd make up on the spot. He'd play pretend with them on the living room floor, helping them build their imaginary worlds. He'd bring them to the theatre and introduce their child to his world of whimsy and entertainment.

He'd be the type of father to fight for his children. The type to advocate for them when they felt voiceless. To guide them and encourage them as they explored their world. To discipline them firmly, but with love, rather than anger. To listen to them and see them as people with their own hopes and dreams. He'd be the type of father to cheer on all their wins and comfort them through their losses.

He would be the type to die for their baby without a single thought.

Rosie couldn't feel luckier knowing her children would have Cassian for their father.

"But you'll be, too – a mother, I mean."

Yeah. She would be a mother. And a really good one, she imagined. Rosalie had known what a bad mother looked and felt like. She knew the harsh words meant to make her want to do better, but only served in tearing her down. She knew the type of mother she never wanted to be, which made it much easier to know the type she did.

She wanted Julia's strength. She wanted Kari's tenderness. She wanted to be her baby's soft place to land and have her son or daughter know that they were always safe, loved and wanted by her.

"There's no one kinder or more loving. I couldn't think of anyone I'd be happier knowing will carry them and raise them."

It was the sweetest, kindest thing anyone had ever said to Rosalie. What greater trust could there be, than entrusting the well-being of your child to? Cassian wasn’t simply telling her that he thought she would be a good mother. He was telling her that, of everyone in the world, she was the person he trusted to shape the little life they had made together.

“You really think that?” she asked, quieter now. She wanted so desperately to get it right, not just for herself but for him. When Rosie had miscarried, it wasn't just the loss of the pregnancy that she grieved. It was the ability to give Cassian something that only she could. For a long time, she'd felt like she'd failed him. In more than one way.

It was another reason for the fear she felt. The list just evolved with every other thought.

But he knew things would be different this time. He knew she wouldn't lose this one. And...he said he was happy. Rosalie hoped with time, as her fears settled, she would be too. She leaned in to brush her nose along his. "We're gonna be okay, you and me."

She had to believe they would be.

---

        Monday, December 17, 1923  

7:00 PM
Rosebridge Little Theatre

---

Thirteen weeks.

She'd made it. It was the milestone she'd held her breath for, waiting for that line in the sand when she'd lost the last pregnancy she'd carried. Days and weeks had mulled on by, dragging, quiet in the knowledge that there was a new life growing beneath her heart, but one she hadn't let grow within it yet.

Caution had led the way. Each morning that she woke and her sheets were still white had been another that she breathed a little easier. Each night that Cassian came home and she was smiling and feeling whole was another brick that she let fall from the walls she'd carefully constructed since that day at Mungo's.

Thirteen weeks was what she'd aimed for. If she could just get there, she'd told herself, then she could let herself be happy. She could let herself feel some joy and anticipation for what lay ahead. If she could look Cassian in the eye and know she still carried his child past the time the last had died, then she'd feel more worthy of being a mother.

And his wife.

Family had been told. Kari's shrieks and excitement had almost let Rosie feel some excitement, but her smile had remained polite and restrained, even as her mother-in-law squeezed her hard enough for Cassian to intervene and remind her that there was a baby in there.

Julia had cried. Her cousin's reaction had touched something deep in Rosie's chest as the happy tears had sprung from Julia's eyes, her hands on either side of Rosie's face, insisting she'd be the most wonderful mother.

As the date had arrived, Rosalie had been able to take a deep breath, finally allowing herself to feel some of the things everyone around her felt.

Tonight, they were going to tell Freddie. Rosie had made him a pair of cufflinks to wear on the theatre's formal nights, with a little engraving on the underside about being the world's best uncle. While they still didn't know what they were going to name their baby, she and Cassian had decided if it were a boy, his middle name would be Frederick, in honor of the friend that had protected them in the beginning and brought them back together in the end.

She smiled as they broke for fifteen minutes. Practice came several days a week, and Rosie came on the days she wasn't feeling too sick or tired. His dinner in a warming bag on the seat next to her, she smiled brightly as her husband hopped off the stage and made his way towards her.

"Hey handsome," she greeted him with a light kiss. When she pulled back, she opened her hand to show him the pair of cufflinks she'd finished that morning. "Think he'll like them?" she asked. She glanced over his shoulder, looking for the redhead who had become almost as much a staple in her weeknights as Cassian was.

"I made you dinner. It's just stew with a few rolls, but when you get home I have strawberry cake for you. To celebrate." She took him by the hand and tugged him back towards the stage. "Where is he anyway? I haven't seen him since I got here."

"Alright, take 15!"

The call rang out as Cassian moved to the edge of the stage, his hands cupped over his mouth. "Don't make me have to come looking for you at the end of that 15 or you might find yourself replaced by someone who understands time."

Would he actually replace someone who'd worked hard for their role over a bit of tardiness? Not hardly. By now, nearly all the kids knew that and were fine to snicker and wave him off as they drifted from their places. Days from the Christmas production, they were nearly done with their preparations, but there were still things that needed tightening, and a few more props he couldn't explain away with a 'I stayed late to finish up.' Even if he said Freddie had remained behind with him, there were pieces that would've been impossible even for two fit young men fuelled by determination.

He may have lingered a moment longer with the stragglers while he waited for Freddie, but a glance across the room revealed someone he was far more interested in seeing.

It was always a treat when his wife stopped by. With the baby growing nice and healthy, it left her tired more often. Gone were the days of his biggest fan sitting in the front row night after night, sometimes into the morning while he worked. While there were times when he felt the loss, it was nothing when compared to the excitement of her bringing a life into the world that they'd created. It was no exaggeration to say that Cassian Thomas had grown insufferable. It was worse on the nights he rehearsed with the main troupe. The kids were real sports. The girls especially were thrilled to hear little baby updates while his own mates tried to remind him that he wasn't the only bloke with an expecting wife in the entire world.

He had yet to be convinced.

"Hey handsome."

He returned the kiss, a brief one to spare them both the dramatic reactions of passersby. There was never an absence of theatricality with that lot... himself... not an exception.

"Think he'll like them?"

Cassian took the cufflinks, turning them over in his palms. Like them?

"He'd better if he knows what's good for him," he quipped before leaning in to take another kiss. "He'll love them. You did good."

"I made you dinner. It's just stew with a few rolls, but when you get home I have strawberry cake for you. To celebrate."

It was sentences like that that left him reluctant to believe anyone else had a wife—certainly not one as amazing as the one he had. Dinner by the theatre and cake when he got home? The treats were piling up. Cassian loved being taken care of by her and loved even more getting to brag about it while his single friends groaned and insisted they weren't jealous. If they weren't before, they eventually would be because the young man had no intention of stopping.

"Almost makes me wanna call it an early night." Only almost.

"Where is he anyway? I haven't seen him since I got here."

Cassian pointed up into the rafters seconds before a call came down.

"Heeeyyyyy, Rosie! You're looking good! Don't suppose you've got anything in that bag for me. We can't all have," he paused for dramatic effect before turning those green eyes to his friend. "What was it you'd called her, Cass?"

"Just get down," Cassian called back, performatively exasperated by his friend's antics.

"I'll be right down."

Dark eyes fell to Rosie's again, amusement causing them to sparkle. "There goes our peace."

"He'd better if he knows what's good for him. He'll love them. You did good."

Rosie's lips tightened with amusement, her head tilting slightly to fix him with a look. A second kiss, sweet as the first, but when someone whistled from the stage, Rosie blushed and pulled back. She dropped her eyes pointedly to the cufflinks again, golden iridescent, charmed to shine various shades of blues, oranges and reds depending on the light. Something flashy enough for the cheeky ginger, but small enough not to draw attention away from the show.

"Almost makes me wanna call it an early night."

"But alas, the show must go on." A faint tut, but not quite as teasing as she might let on. Cassian dedicated a good amount of his spare time to the theatre. She was happy for him to, and didn't mind in the least allowing her husband the freedom to pursue what for so long he'd had to leave behind. The theatre version of him was the version she'd first befriended and had fallen in love with. The way Cassian's eyes lit up on stage, the way he'd been able to bury himself in a script again, the genuine happiness she felt radiating from him again - it made the nights they were apart feel worth it.

All she had ever wanted was Cassian's happiness, as much as he'd wanted the same for her.

This...it all felt like he was happy again. Still, it didn't mean she didn't miss him when she was too tired to make the trip into London on practice nights.

"Heeeyyyyy, Rosie!"

She followed Cassian's point just as Freddie found her first. That big stupid grin of his beamed down at them, while she gave a little wave of her fingers.

"You're looking good! Don't suppose you've got anything in that bag for me."

"I try my best just for you, Freddie," she called back, rolling her eyes playfully. She had packed him dinner as well, knowing that he'd just help himself to Cassian's anyway, but before she could say as much, the boys were going back and forth with each other.

"We can't all have...What was it you'd called her, Cass?"

Oh? Rosie smiled at the tease, nudging her husband lightly with her hand. "Yeah, what'd you call her, Cass?" Her husband was the complimentary sort, but she certainly hoped he wasn't being ridiculous in front of the entire theatre. There was already one who didn't like her and she didn't need to be the subject of annoyance by association.

"Just get down. There goes our peace."

There it went indeed. As Freddie hit the stage with that wide grin, Rosie shook her head with amusement. The man had never been particularly subtle, nor had he ever seemed especially concerned with becoming so. It was one of the things she adored about him, even if she knew that between the two of them, Freddie and Cassian were responsible for a good deal of the theatre's collective headaches.

"You're welcome, by the way," she informed him, lifting her chin slightly. "I brought enough for you too, since I know you've got absolutely zero shame in stealing from my husband."

It wasn't the first time she'd packed extra for Freddie, and she doubted it would be the last. Feeding one of them invariably meant feeding the other, a lesson she'd learned quickly enough those first few months before they'd married. Freddie still dropped in for dinner at least once a week, so he wasn't often without Rosie's cooking. She'd mentioned to Cass to let him contribute to their grocery bill. "Anyways," she nudged Cass with her elbow indicating they tell him now, "You know all about this baby business don't you?" She patted her still-flat stomach lightly.

"We forgot to ask you how you feel about becoming an uncle?"

Her smile softened as she waited for him to realize, before glancing sideways at Cass. He would get to tell Freddie the most important part.

"But alas, the show must go on."

She was getting better at that, much to some small chagrin he now harboured on the matter. Things had gotten normal at work. He was slowly... very... very slowly crawling his way to any sort of prominence in the main troupe and had really found a place directing the junior troupe. It all took time. There were days he worried he wasn't spending enough time at home with Rosie. They had their own lives, and her not working didn't mean she had nothing going on. On some level, Cassian knew that she had enough to keep her occupied and how much truer that would become when their son... or daughter came. It softened the guilt without ever fully removing it.

He liked when she swung by the theatre, preferring it to any ambitions of dropping by the ministry. There, she could help with props, hang around the people he considered family, and he could keep her close. The show did have to go on but he'd never want it to be at her expense.

"Yeah, what'd you call her, Cass?"

He waved his hand light. "Off his fucking rockers, that one. Never really knows what he's saying. No one does, really. We've learned to nod and smile and let him have it."

"I can hear you!" Freddie called down, seconds before hitting the stairs that led to the stage.

Cass made a winding motion with his index finger, committed to the bit of his best friend being entirely out of his mind. "Ignore him, gorgeous, along with any slander that I've been utterly insufferable about you around the theatre. No one's got any proof I brag about my wife more often than I take breaths." He leaned in to kiss her again, ignoring the whistle that came. "Hallucinators, the lot of them."

"And a bloody liar you are."

Freddie came to a stop by them, a grin ready for Rosie the moment their eyes met.

"You're welcome, by the way. I brought enough for you too, since I know you've got absolutely zero shame in stealing from my husband."

"And enabler to the last," Cass quipped. "Keep that up and he'll never leave." Said affectionately, of course. It was hard to believe this was what his life had tapered into. A stable, if not soul‑crushing, job, enough to properly take care of his wife, his best mate had crossed the pond and come home – frequently at their house. He wasn't running. He wasn't terrified. He was having a fucking amazing evening in the theatre with two of the people he cared so much about. It almost felt unreal.

"Anyways, you know all about this baby business don't you?"

Freddie's grin grew cheeky. "Whaaat, a baby? When was anyone going to tell me?" The young man shot a look at Cassian, a rather pointed one in reminder of the afternoon they'd spent arguing the merit of taking a newborn to try out for a role in the theatre. It seemed perfectly reasonable to him. His son—or daughter—would also be a star. Between their mother's good looks and his larger‑than‑life persona, no one else would stand a chance.

"We forgot to ask you how you feel about becoming an uncle?"

The cheek left him immediately. Freddie looked between the two, pausing as hesitancy tempered his excitement. "Wait, you're serious? Me?"

"We were thinking about borrowing that name of yours—if he's a boy, of course." Cassian's arm snaked itself around Rosie's waist, tugging her against him. "Make sure he never forgets his Uncle Freddie or the way he really came through for his parents when they didn't know how else they'd make it."

"Shit, you're serious."

In true Freddie manner, rather than succumb to the emotion of the moment, the boy bulldozed his way between them, draping an arm around them both. "You guys really know how to tear a bloke up. A mini me walkin' around. Too much to hope he's a redhead? Not sure how you'll explain it to Cass, but I'd be right there in your corner Rosie."

"Wait, you're serious? Me?"

Rosalie's smile grew, reaching her eyes as Cassian pulled her into his side. Of course him. Who else would they ever ask to hold such a special place in their baby's life? The two expectant parents didn't have a wide circle of those they would call 'good friends', fewer even that they shared mutually.

Freddie had been Cassian's best friend since they were small, and in every way he could, had shown up for Cassian - and her. He'd put himself at risk to give them a starting chance at the life they chased. He'd done things that so few ever would, considering it meddling or too far beyond what friendship called for.

Who else would be the perfect uncle to their little one?

"We were thinking about borrowing that name of yours—if he's a boy, of course. Make sure he never forgets his Uncle Freddie or the way he really came through for his parents when they didn't know how else they'd make it."

"Shit, you're serious."

He barreled into them, wrapping his arms around their shoulders. "Of course we are, dummy," she teased, squeezing him tighter beneath the arm he'd slung around her shoulders. "Someone has to make sure this baby grows up with at least one terrible influence." Her smile softened almost immediately, realizing how much it already meant to him.

"You guys really know how to tear a bloke up. A mini me walkin' around. Too much to hope he's a redhead? Not sure how you'll explain it to Cass, but I'd be right there in your corner Rosie."

She rolled her eyes, but the amusement never left her expression. "How magnanimous of you, Frederick," she teased, opening her hand to show him the cufflinks she'd made. "For you, to wear on formal nights." She smiled at Cassian and then up at their friend, "You've always been one of us. Might as well make it official."

---

        Friday, February 8, 1924  

7:00 PM

---

Rosalie had discovered a renewed energy as the five month mark came and went. Gone were the days when the girl felt overstimulated and exhausted by the smallest tasks. Where the first several months had found her napping during the day more than she'd ever had before, now she couldn't find enough things to busy her hands with.

The house was immaculate. With the help of magic to reach the places that were too high or low, there wasn't a speck of dirt or dust to be found. The windows sparkled, everything was organized and in its place. She didn't realize it, but she was thick in the nesting stage, preparing their home for the arrival she now eagerly anticipated.

Growing a baby was hard work, but no one would be able to tell if they took a good look at Rosalie. Even with her belly nice and round now, she was always moving. If everything were clean, then she was busy cooking, gardening, or playing with Fawn or Rook. The baby's room needed decorating, but she couldn't start that until Cassian finished all the furniture that was meant for his or her room. There was no real rush, considering they still had four months to go, but he'd been busy and she'd been antsy to put her nesting to work in there.

'Linger Awhile' drifted from the radio near the crackling fireplace as she finished the last of the dishes for the night. Fawn perched on her shoulder, munching on a slice of apple while Rook had followed Cass outside into the last of the daylight to work on...whatever her husband was working on. The furniture, or maybe they'd just gone for a walk. There was plenty to see and discover around the property, much they hadn't yet due to how busy they were.

When things slowed down, they would too. Stop and smell the flowers a bit.

Spring was around the corner, after all.

As she toweled the last dish, a sudden jolt above her navel stopped her suddenly. Fawn sat up, alerted to Rosie's change of posture, and dropped her apple. The demiguise bolted to the counter to press herself against the young mother's stomach, black eyes widening as another little movement popped against the side of her face.

"Oh my god," Rosie breathed, her hand drifting down, to rest gently on the same space. She dropped the plate onto the counter, wanting to be sure she felt what she thought she had. Another kick, firmer this time, just behind her ribs, and then trailing like a little air bubble to the other side.

"CASS!" the shriek was excited, but Fawn scrambled from the counter, knocking the plate to the ground with a loud crash. The demiguise tore across the room and raced for the stairs and Rosalie raced for the back door, wanting her husband to feel before the baby decided they'd had enough showing off.

She threw the door open, scouring the back garden for him. "Hurry!" She didn't want him to miss it.

The crash coming from inside the house caught the German Shepherd's attention seconds before it caught his master's. Rook's ears perked up, his head whipping in the direction of the back door. Cassian hadn't thought much about it, not at first. He continued sanding down the wood that would later become the ornate headboard for his son's (or daughter's) crib. Wouldn't be much longer until the baby was done expanding his wife, and they hadn't gotten as far along with their prep as he thought they should've. He understood, of course. At first, Rosie had had a hard time letting herself believe it would really happen. She'd seen danger around every corner, and he could see for himself that she wouldn't have survived all the prep just to be let down.

All the healers had said that they were out of the most dangerous parts of the woods and had even encouraged them. It had been all he needed, and slowly it had become something she could put faith in. That only left the practical parts. The crib. A chest of drawers. A little trunk for toys. A high chair. Cass was slowly making his way through the list, having already gotten the trunk and chest of drawers complete. The colour he would leave to Rosie, as he'd left most of the design of the room to her. It wasn't that he didn't care one way or another, but it felt like something she needed--specifically. Cassian wanted her excited and involved, feeling every advancement. He already got that through the furniture making itself.

He wanted her touching, feeling, envisioning. He wanted her getting excited every time she walked by what used to be their guest room or to pull him into a baby boutique excitedly because she'd seen something the baby just had to have.

It filled him with a sense of pride every time he could get something for her, no matter how big or how small. It was such a far cry from their time in France when food could mean going without something equally essential. They weren't rich by any means, but his ministry cheque had seen a little boost from his less-new position of director at the theatre.

They managed what they had well enough that he didn't feel his face and chest heating up every time she asked for something.

Making their own furniture...also helped. Some of that shit was expensive just to have the kid grow out of it in months.

Rook took off, bolting through the door, but it wasn't until the scream that Cass felt his stomach lurch. His blood went cold before he could rationalise the noise, adrenaline suddenly pumping through him. Abandoning his tools, he darted inside. His eyes shot around the kitchen frantically the moment he entered through the back door.

"What? What's happening?"

He drew his wand automatically, already bracing for the event that someone had breached their wards.

His search turned up...nothing...

Nothing but Rook licking at her hands excitedly and...an empty cottage. "What...?" he asked again, not sure he understood the danger. His brows furrowed with worry that he'd somehow missed something while his body remained on high alert. Automatically, his eyes dipped, but he found no blood, not anywhere.

Had he...missed something?

Rook barreled through the door with an excited bark, sniffing around Rosie for whatever had sent her shrieking. Finding nothing, he whined happily, his tail wagging as he nuzzled against her side, licking at her hands as she laughed and ruffled his ears. “Silly boy,” she murmured. When he tried to jump, she gently nudged him back down, one hand instinctively covering her stomach while the other scratched behind his ears. “Not you.”

Her eyes shot up as Cassian came rushing through the door, wand drawn.

What in the world...?

"What? What's happening?"

For half a second, Rosie only stared at him. His expression was pure alarm, his wand at the ready as though he expected to find some terrible threat waiting inside their otherwise peaceful cottage. She supposed the crash hadn't helped. Nor had shrieking his name like something had caught fire. Still, there was no time for explanation.

She rushed toward him before he could investigate whatever catastrophe he clearly thought had occurred, ignoring the wand entirely. There would be more kicks, and she knew they'd come frequently now, stronger over time as he or she grew, but the first ones were special.

"What...?"

Excitement, real joy sparkled in Rosie's eyes as she took his free hand and laid it flat against the curve of her growing stomach, in the exact spot she had just felt another little pop. "Your baby's trying to say hello," she said, a light giggle in her voice. It was their first introduction to each other. The first real confirmation that there really was a new life in there; one they'd get to raise and watch grow into the most amazing person.

For months, the baby had existed abstractly. Confirmed by healers that he or she was growing and healthy. Rosalie's own body was the evidence of it, and yet it had existed in weeks and little milestones. Six weeks. Thirteen. Twenty. A countdown to the day when they'd meet their baby and become someone's daddy and mummy. This was solid and touchable, their baby making themselves known on their own accord.

Rosie's eyes dropped to where Cassian's hand disappeared beneath hers, suddenly overcome by how ordinary and extraordinary the sight was. His hand on her stomach. Their baby somewhere just beneath it. The same two people who had once been terrified children themselves were standing in a cottage that belonged to them, waiting for the tiny person they'd made together to move.

“Come on,” she coaxed her belly, rubbing her thumb absently across the back of Cassian's hand. “Daddy came rushing. Don't make me look like a liar now.” It was the first time she'd called him that and she glanced back up, smiling brightly at him. As though rising to its mother's challenge, another little kick pressed firmly against Cassian's palm.

Rosie gasped. “There! Did you feel it?!"

So then...there was...no danger?

His head suddenly throbbed. Cassian could still feel the adrenaline that had seen him rushing through the house. It made his body hum uncomfortably and left his heart hammering erratically inside his chest cavity. Rosie's confusion made no sense to him. Nothing made any sense to him. Her lips were moving, but the static that crowded his mind prevented him from deciphering those words. He needed to calm down. Somehow, someway, while his muscles clenched in anticipation for an unpleasant surprise, Cassian Thomas would have to bring himself down enough to understand whatever it was that his wife was trying to say to him.

"Your baby's trying to say hello."

Whose baby?

Oh. Right. He had a baby – would have a baby. It wasn't done cooking inside his wife but was presumably growing stronger by the day. Everything he'd read had filled him with confidence that things were going well and gave him something he could track from the side of the non-carrying parent. The reports from the healers helped, too. Hearing them say that everything was going well and that the baby's heartbeat was strong was really all he needed.

Now he needed a calming draught and maybe a minute to accept that he wasn't about to be forced into fight mode.

They...they were gonna need to work on acceptable methods of displaying...what were they talking about? Right. His baby. Their baby. The healthy baby that wasn't currently trying to violently eject itself from inside its mother while they still had a few months left ahead of them. An admirable choice, really. Cass had grown used to things going well and didn't think he had the mental fortitude to watch his and his wife's worlds disintegrate again. Being content was ...nice, nicer than he'd ever given it credit for being.

Cassian looked down at his hand, his fingers splayed across her stiff stomach. It felt the same as yesterday and the day before. Hardened by the baby inside, he'd grown accustomed to the resistance that always greeted hi—

Whatthefuckwasthat?

Dark eyes rose to meet Rosie's deep oceans, full of questions he didn't know he could have. He didn't hear her call him 'daddy'. He'd barely registered her protests to being crazy. Why was her stomach twitching. No. Not twitching. It was...how did he even explain it, and how was she not dragging him to Mungo's??

He'd grab her coat. They'd...they could...

“There! Did you feel it?!"

OFCOURSEHE'DFELTIT.

Rosie smiled brightly, and he could feel his brain melting all over again. He...he needed to sit down. The young man was being asked to process too many things at the same time. This was a ...good thing.

It had to be. His wife had been known to handle terrible situations in sometimes questionable ways, but outright excitement had never been one of them. This was good. His gaze fell to her stomach again, confusion giving way to awe as the meaning of the movement finally settled inside him. Movement. Another sign that they were moving closer to a reality where they became someone's parents. Not hypothetical, not a baby he had to trust was still in there, but one that was starting to reach out, if only indirectly.

Slowly, his own smile spread across his face, his hand rubbing the bump containing their child. 'Holy shit..." he whispered.

He pressed his hand into her stomach, curious to see whether it would do it again. Cassian leaned forward, getting down to the level of her stomach. "Hey, little guy." He was almost reverent. "You had your mother nearly give me a heart attack. Go easy, yeah?"

Cassian only had so many emergencies left in him.

If it were possible, her smile brightened further when Cassian lifted his eyes to hers, trying to understand what he'd just felt. Men experienced a woman's pregnancy much differently. They knew the basics. A baby would grow, their wife's belly would expand and nine months later, a new life would enter the fray. Some men were more involved than others, wanting the smaller details and fussing over their wives as the months puttered along. Others preferred to keep to the basics, believing it women's business and nothing for them to concern themselves with other than providing.

Luckily for her, Cassian was of the former sort. He wanted to know how she was feeling, how the baby was doing. He wanted to know about the new little milestones, and he went out of his way to help her prepare for their child in any way he could. Already, maybe without even realizing it, Cassian had slipped into the role of a father before her very eyes. It was more than the boasting at the theatre, or even the carpentry he spent hours on. It was more than ensuring they had enough money for the things they needed and wanted.

It was the little moments. Moments like these when she watched amazement sparkle behind earthy shores.

His hand glided gently along her stomach, his whisper melting her in a way she didn't know he could. When he knelt down, her hand came to rest in his curls, feeling something new and warm that didn't feel quite like anything else she'd ever experienced.

"Hey, little guy. You had your mother nearly give me a heart attack. Go easy, yeah?"

She let out a small laugh, moisture pooling behind her eyes. As if on cue, the baby kicked again, stronger this time, responding to their father's voice and their mother's giggle.

She didn't know it until that moment, but it was the sign she'd been waiting for. The one that told her that all of this was real, that she could stop holding her breath. That their baby was alive and thriving, strong and growing.

And in the midst of it all, there was Cassian.

Nothing could have made her feel more like the luckiest woman in the world.

---

        Sunday, May 18, 1924  

9:15 PM

---

He had work in the morning, but with how warm the evenings were now, the pair often found themselves ignoring the hours that crept late into the evening.

It had become their routine. Dinner, clean up, an hour or so preparing for the next day with clothes, lunch packing or script edits, and then they'd make their way outside. Sometimes they sat out back in the porch chairs that Cassian had made for them, watching the moonlight shine off black waves that crashed into darker rocks.

Other nights, they laid out in the front garden, nestled together on a soft blanket, letting the scent of newly-bloomed lilac, jasmine and rose drift over them. It was Rosie's favorite part of each day, when the rest of the world drifted out of the peripherals of their little world, and it was just them again. They both had full, busy lives now - a far cry from the ones they'd had in France.

Cassian had his job, one he didn't love, but didn't dread in the same way he'd dreaded factory and farm work. He had his glittering theatre life, surrounded by his friends and the people he'd grown up with.

Rosalie's life was quieter, but no less busy. She'd started experimenting with her potions again, albeit safe ones she could handle in her condition that posed no risk to her baby. On the days she didn't spend at home taking care of the house and their creatures, she was often with Kari, out shopping for the baby, or with Eira and Kate, relishing the last few weeks she had before her entire world changed.

Eight months was now behind them, and they only had one more to go. In many ways, it seemed unreal or impossible. For years, Rosalie had dreamed of becoming a mother, and now that it was so close, she could scarcely wrap her mind around the idea. Just a few more weeks, and their son or daughter would be cradled in their arms rather than beneath her ribs.

"Did you make a decision on the summer production?" She asked, the stem of a honeysuckle between her lips. Her gaze drifted from the stars above them to meet that of the freckled-faced no-longer boy she'd laid beneath them with so many times. "I know Freddie had his heart set on an original piece this year." Their friend had mentioned it more times than she'd ever heard him mention anything in succession. Between his big idea and Cass's need to update his friends on every little baby happening, she knew most of the old crew were nursing an information-overload headache.

Her belly rose and fell, the baby's movements now very pronounced considering how big he or she was, and Rosie was feeling more like an oven than a person these days. Her hand drifted down, resting lightly on her belly.

The baby would arrive around the third week of June, when the theatre would already be in the throes of prepping the children's show. She didn't know how Cassian planned to try and balance it all while she was freshly postpartum and they would need time to bond as a new family.

Kari and Julia would be there, but it wouldn't be the same as having her husband.

Merlin's beard, he had work in the morning.

A year into it, Cassian no longer had the crippling dread that made it difficult to leave his bed in the morning – granted, some of that might have had more to do with his wife than the work itself – but it didn't mean he was thrilled to have his weekend end. They'd become the thing he looked forward to the most during every week, his evenings at the theatre being a not-so-close second. They did have a few rehearsals on Saturdays, depending on whether they had anything coming up or not, but for the most part, he was able to enjoy his time at home with his wife. It was when he could unclench from all the stresses that now filled his life; it was when he got to dream in more concrete terms than plays and productions.

Getting into the eighth month, they were done with the nursery, they'd gotten the cottage ready, and they'd even begun tossing around names for whichever gender their baby turned out to be. These days, his dreams were anchored in what he would do when he met his child, all the things he wanted to teach them, and all the places he wanted them to see. He was already able to imagine coming home, dinner warm on the stove and Rosie with their baby full of smiles and giggles.

It was the boring sort of domesticity that some of the blokes at the theatre feared. They were still in university, pursuing big careers and getting lost in campus culture. They couldn't imagine already having a wife and baby to go home to in this new age where industries were beginning to recover and the grimness of the war had shown them the need to live.

Cassian felt differently.

He hadn't been on the frontlines or any sort of line when the world had descended into chaos. He'd known about the bombs, had seen some of the destruction and heard things here and there on the radio—only when his father wasn't home. Julian had believed that the news would make them all too anxious about the world. Had he been wrong? Cass could remember a time when Justine feared going off to Hogwarts in case either the castle or their home should disappear before she came home. Cassian hadn't been dressed in soldier's garb and given a rifle, but he'd faced his own horrors. They were enough for him. They'd forced him to grow up. Now? Now Cassian wanted the 'boring' evenings with his wife curled into him. He wanted the gentle breeze in the balmy nights and the sound of the waves crashing against the side of the cliff.

He wanted a dog that didn't understand personal boundaries and apparently a demiguise that was too good at hide-and-seek.

Blood. Gore. Violence. They felt like they belonged in a different world, one he wanted nothing to do with and didn't want his child to be introduced to.

"Did you make a decision on the summer production? I know Freddie had his heart set on an original piece this year."

"Higher-ups want us doing 'Madam Pompadour'." Which effectively put an end to the dreams of both young men. "Old Mortimer's got a niece who fancies herself the next star of the West End. She's visiting from up north for the summer, so..." He sighed heavily. "We all know how that'll go."

It wasn't that Thelma didn't have talent, but...star of the show? With a voice as squeaky as hers? And an attitude that could rival Jessica's? They'd have their summer cut out for them, but they were hardly in a position to protest.

"What about you?" He reached over to kiss the top of her head. "Baby'll be here any day, you know. I heard they don't always wait their turn. Could be tomorrow. Could be next week. You ready?"

"Higher-ups want us doing 'Madam Pompadour'."

Well, that was that, then. Rosalie frowned with disappointment, clicking her tongue slightly. It was too bad. The original piece they'd outlined was good, she'd thought, but what was good and what wasn't didn't matter so much to the theatre management as what drove people to the ticket counter. She'd never figured something as creatively driven as a theatre could be wrapped it in red tape and a 'good ol' boys' club, but the world never ceased to surprise her.

"Old Mortimer's got a niece who fancies herself the next star of the West End. She's visiting from up north for the summer, so...we all know how that'll go."

They did. It meant the girl would take the lead female role, regardless of talent or merit. Nepotism was a problem in the entertainment industry, even on the smaller, localized scale. There'd be nothing Cassian could really do about it, even if his production that he was directing suffered for it. She sighed, looping her arm through his and resting her cheek against his shoulder. "You should buy the theatre from them." Maybe someday they would. Rosalie would have enough money to do it in another year. She still hadn't mentioned her trust or allowance to Cassian, knowing he needed to be able to provide for her and their child, without any sort of backup plan.

There were times she almost broke and shared her secret, but the pride on his face every time he was able to provide on his own kept her quiet. She'd never touched a sickle of the money, letting it build up in the account that James had setup. With time, if he wanted to, Cassian would be able to quit the ministry and focus all his energy into making Rosebridge what he wanted it to be. "Then every decision really would be yours. Everyone knows you have an eye for the real talent."

Her husband could spot it from a mile away, and he had a way of bringing out the best in his actors. While he was still working his way up the adult ladder and proving himself all over again, Rosie loved watching him shine over his own shows. He'd always been a brilliant director, with the ability to picture entire shows when the production was still bare-bones.

She couldn't wait to see how their child would fit into that world.

"What about you?"

Hmm? Rosie smiled as he kissed her head, nestling into the warmth he offered and letting it spread slowly through her.

"Baby'll be here any day, you know. I heard they don't always wait their turn. Could be tomorrow. Could be next week. You ready?"

It was a good question. In many ways, Rosalie thought she was, and in others she felt she wasn't. The nursery was finished - decorated in soft pallets with an enchanted galaxy that sparkled overhead at night. She'd finished the blanket she'd been embroidering, and the baby clothes she'd sewn. Diapers were ready and stacked. In practice, they were ready, and had everything in place.

"Almost," she answered, turning her gaze back to the stars overhead. Her hand lingered on the curve of her stomach as the baby wiggled again, apparently remiss to not be the center of attention. "It's going to be a huge change, you know?" She smiled, letting her fingers walk across her dress. "It won't be just us anymore." Their quiet lazy days and nights would be filled with something brighter and louder. A little one that would laugh and squeal, cry and need comfort and reassurance.

In truth their baby could decide to make an early appearance and arrive tonight, or be fashionably late and make their grand appearance in July. Knowing who they were, would it be any big shock that their baby would want to make their big debut a showstopper?

Blue oceans fell again to meet their earthy shores. "Remember camp before fourth year? The first patrol we had together and we spent it sitting by the lake instead?" She smiled widely. "You pointed out half the constellations to me and I couldn't decipher a single one." She laughed lightly, "They all looked the same to me then."

Now? She could point them out easily by name. Unique and beautiful in their own right. Cass and Rosie had always found meaning within the space that expanded infinitely beyond them, knowing one day they'd take their place amongst them. Stars and galaxies had always held a mythological grounding for the two dramatic lovebirds that wanted to believe in fairytales and fate. A greater plan. One that defied the one written for them by men.

"Did you ever think that night that we'd be here? Like this?" If anyone had told the soon to be fourteen-year-old then that the whimsical and flamboyant freckle-faced kid would turn into her entire world, that she'd be laying with him under the same stars nearly six years later, ready to give birth to his child, she'd have never believed it.

How lucky they were to be where they were after everything that had transpired.