Simple Lives

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A/N: Surprise! This is an Evane baby fic. You can pry this HC from my cold dead hands.

Evangeline POV

When dinner is served, the fork jumps into Rose's hand. At first, she giggles in amazement. But I'm gasping, frozen in my seat. It takes Rose a second, then the same fright I feel shows on her face.

She puts the fork down. She looks at me, aghast and at loss.

Elane clears her throat. "Shall I cut the meat for you, Rosie?" she asks.

Rose nods. "Please, Mom," she says, shoving her plate over to Elane because at not even three years old, she's too young to handle a knife.

I didn't anticipate how careful we were when we didn't allow our daughter knives. What could've happened with a blade?

I look at my own hands, now worn from work. I can't see any old scars, as the scars and wounds from my childhood were healed quickly. But I remember the pain and horror I felt at the three times I cut off one of my fingers. I was older than Rose is now, yet as unused to my powers. No magnetron is a stranger to lost digits, myself included. Back then I bore the pain with not exactly pride – I'd failed, after all – but grit.

And still, imagining my little Rose with her hands bleeding, fingers lost or even worse injuries due to inexperience, are pictures I cannot suffer. She's a lovely, shy girl, who's untouched by the grim drill of House Samos and she shall stay that way.

After all, skinhealers are hard to come by, here in Tiraxes. We were lucky to have one present at Rose's birth which was difficult enough on its own.

Ironically, I thought I'd feel proud when my daughter would reveal her ability to be the same as mine. Now I hardly care about the legacy if only she stays whole and hale. The name Samos is gone, replaced by DeLeon, the name Elane and I made up for ourselves.

Elane knows how to cheer Rose up, and me as well. She chats about Rose's already delightful taste for nice food and makes up stories about the roads the food has taken before it came to us. Rose focuses on her and smiles and when she turns to me again, I smile back, although a glimpse of insecurity remains in all three of us. This was the proof, only arriving exceptionally early. Rose couldn't have not been a magnetron and now we'll have to talk about this. Abilities are a serious topic that can't be ignored but I'm uncertain about how I'll train my daughter. I don't want to instruct her in the same way as I was - although this wasn't even possible, as my High House had resources I couldn't dream of here.

I could ask other magnetrons, who've been in Tiraxes longer than me. There're my colleagues at work but we aren't close, nor have I been open to anyone about my family or private matters in general apart from the bare minimum, like mentioning I'm married. I work for the money, and magnetrons are welcome employees in Tiraxes's growing industry. It pays well and I enjoy the mathematic aspects of the tasks, along with the chance to use my ability - but it's not a dream of a profession. There's no art in it, only logic and pragmatism. I could try to apply for a higher, more creative position but Silvers – and the rare Newbloods – are meant to put their abilities to use, for the good of the community. I'd have to explain myself, gain the favour of the right people, and introduce myself more thoroughly, and none of that is appealing. That Elane managed to find a job as an official, an art teacher, was risky enough, and I'm glad that so far, no one seems to wonder where we came from exactly. My private life consists of Rose, Elane and me and I don't need more.

When I want to be creative, I built toys and decorations for Rose's room. Before she was born, I topped all nails and pins on her cradle with roses, using many different metals, and made a mobile from the rest. Elane thought that almost funny. "I really didn't think you have a maternal streak, love," she said, although I was already six-months-pregnant at the time. Now she knows better and joins me in this; she's the better painter anyway.

I pick at the food, hardly hungry although I cooked it myself. Elane and Rose enjoy the meal, laughing to each other. Rose is so different from me. She's shy where I'm confident, and open where I'm reserved. Her black hair falls free and she doesn't care while I have a need to always have mine fixed at least in a braid. The differences fascinate me, strengthening my resolve to see her grow up without restraints.

There's her father, of course. I haven't seen him in a while, and the only time he visited to see Rose was nigh on two years ago – so she doesn't know him, although she resembles him with her black hair, brown eyes and bronze skin.

We have a good arrangement, all things considered. Rose's father is a magnetron I've met in another aluminium-producing company about four years ago. A loose acquaintance formed between him and me, but with a kind of understanding I haven't found with other people in Tiraxes. Even so understanding that I casually mentioned my wish for a child with my wife and he offered his service without asking for a trade-off. Elane and I know his address and name, Matt Pierce. So does Rose. She doesn't ask about him and I thought it means we're enough for her. That may be right, but it's possible she doesn't know how to ask, or is just too small to wonder for now.

I might contact him again, set up another visit if only to query him about magnetron training in Tiraxes. A good plea. Contact to Matt fell asleep after the two times he handed over his sperm that Elane inserted into me to make Rose. He claimed work for his move to the west afterwards, and I've begun to doubt that. I suspect, as our plan progressed into an actual child, he pulled away to give me the privacy to raise my child with my wife. I know I wouldn't have demanded otherwise although I wonder about the friend he could've been.

I'd begun to want a child several months before I got to know Matt. It started in a small manner, as a formerly buried urge to leave something of me behind. Not only of me, but of the disbanded House Samos as well. I thought I'd abandoned the past along with the name I shed, but it seems the High Houses' desire for progeny is a wish independent of the need for dynasties. Neither me, nor Rose, nor Elane will ever be a queen but crowns have stopped to matter in this world. I've loved the family I had, despite their ... flaws, and I wanted to have that again, having lost all of them but Elane. And I love what we have now.

Rose clings to my leg as we clean the kitchen. Maybe she should rather go to bed instantly, as my nannies at the Rift would've insisted. I'm often unsure about such questions but I like her with me, as work kills enough of our time together. So, with my hand on her shoulder, she watches me letting the cutlery and pots fly into the sink.

"Isn't Mommy fascinating, Rose?" Elane teases her. Rose nods, Elane sighs. "But it still doesn't wash itself, does it, Eve?"

I grin. "It is how it is. The bad side having privacy is to have to do everything by oneself." I look down to Rose. "This can be so much fun, Rosie. One day, you can do this as well."

She leans closer against my leg, quite effectively inhibiting my capacity to walk. I wouldn't have thought I'd ever enjoy such childish antics. "Now hurry, Elane, Rosie's getting tired."

"I'm not – " Rose is interrupted by her own yawn and I pat her head.

Soon afterwards, I carry her to bed and Elane dims the room exactly to Rose's preferred shade of darkness. I start to read her a story despite noticing she hardly pays attention. Once finished, I bend over for a last kiss and caress as she whispers, "Mother, I'm afraid." She grabs my hand lingering on her small cheek.

I hesitate to answer, just holding on to her for moment. I merely give Elane the slightest glance. "That's alright, Rose," I say finally. "I was too, when I was as little as you."

She seems doubtful.

"No, really," I insist. "But I'll take care of you. When you want to try out your ability, I promise I'll always be with when you wish me to. Okay?"

"Okay," she murmurs, still unsure.

"The same goes for me," Elane adds. "Someone has to pay attention that your mother doesn't reshape the whole house."

Rose smiles, tightly, and this evening, I can't bring myself to leave her before she falls asleep. Right before her eyes close, the copper horse in the mobile above her starts to dance.


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