Disclaimer/Authors note: All characters other than the ones I've created belong to Jane Austen.
This is my first published s&s fanfic, so be nice please (: It's fluffy in some parts, but who doesn't love a bit of Marianne & Col Brandon! This idea just came to me one day so I thought I'd write it. I don't attempt to write as brilliantly as Jane Austen, or in her writing style, but I hope you enjoy this. (:
Elinor smiled down at her newborn nephew as she rocked him slowly back and forth, occasionally brushing her fingers over his fine hair. The open window allowed a cool breeze and streams of late afternoon sunlight to settle. Elinor was extremely thankful for the peaceful tranquillity of their surrounding when she thought back over the events of only a few hours before, in which Marianne's screams and tears could be heard, although she hadn't checked, as she had been beside her sister the entire time, throughout the manor. Seeing her sister in such a state made Elinor distressed enough, but it was even more unbearable when her pain was dragged on for hours, and, particularly nearing the end of the birth, never seized.
Now in the comfortably silent bedroom and the air passing through at a calm pace, it was hard to imagine that anything had occurred in this room that was not something of content, the only evidence been the small bundle in Elinor's arms. His presence though, Elinor thought as she looked down at him, was nothing short of joy, and she could not deny that it was worth all the turmoil that it took for him to be here. Marianne had soon forgotten her past pain the moment she set eyes on him, as had his aunt and father forgot their distress.
Elinor's loving gaze on her nephew was only broken when she heard footsteps across the corridor. She looked up and her expression softened when she saw Colonel Brandon pause at the doorframe, looking from his wife as he had been doing so ever since he could see her from the open door, to Elinor and his son.
Elinor smiled at him and then turned her head to her sister, now in a deep sleep, her body resting comfortably beneath the linen. Her head was turned slightly towards Elinor's upon the soft pillows.
Brandon had returned from the grounds of his estate, which he left for no longer than a quarter of an hour ago. Before that time he had not left the room in which all four of them were in now. Unconventional and out of propriety as it was, he did not leave Marianne's side during her labour and the birth, just as he had done with his two daughters, Ophelia and Mary. He had been with Marianne for the past hour after their son had been born, and was reluctant to leave when a message was passed on that he was needed downstairs in a matter of urgency, though his perception of matters of urgency and the ones of being the reason he was sent for somewhat differed, as this one was sure to involve business letters and figures instead of the hearts of people. Only by his wife's encouragement that she would be fine alone for a little while that he left, promising the time he was away would be brief.
Elinor had returned to her sister and nephew when Brandon left, as she had left Marianne and her husband alone for a while, giving them the respect of privacy; something which her temperament has always allowed her to do. Seeing her sister's exhaustion she knew it would not be a matter of moments before she fell asleep, and she was proven right when after moments of talking she became unconscious. Elinor had stayed watching her sister and admiring her new nephew, who was soundly sleeping too. She was sure that his temperament would be similar to his fathers, as he had hardly cried at all for the considerable amount of time that a child usually does, and had settled quickly.
Elinor stood up from the chair at Marianne's side as Colonel Brandon crossed the room and she handed him his son, who was undisturbed by the exchange of persons. Brandon smiled politely at Elinor and then cats his eyes down on his son.
"She fell asleep moments from when you left." Elinor referred to Marianne as she gestured towards the bed. Both their eyes were then cast to her sleeping form.
"She's exhausted." He said quietly and with a soft loving emotion in his voice, with his eyes still upon Marianne, as at that moment he was incapable of looking to anyone else but her.
"I shall go and see the girls now, I think Edward may be in need of some relief." She smiled as Ophelia and Mary's excited voices could be heard downstairs, and Edwards calm and amused replies as he answered their questions, which were no doubt mostly about their little brother. They were aged five and three, and both highly inquisitive and energetic. Ophelia had stronger trates in these characteristics, but alike her younger sister, they both carried their inquisitive nature with a maturity which usually wasn't found in children their age. Brandon too smiled and thanked Elinor, a thank you which was meant for her sense of giving them privacy, not that he would have unwelcomed her stay, as they both highly regarded their friendship, and also for staying with Marianne while he could not. Elinor understood his meaning and smiled again before making for the door and descending the stairs. Before she did so she turned back with her hand on the staircase, to see him sit in the chair which she had watched Marianne sleep, and take her hand in his while his other arm still held his son. Smiling again she turned and walked down the stairs, her thoughts on just saw, and the lively girls that awaited her.
Brandon held his son with care and looked down upon him, scarcely believing that this child was his. He found it a miracle that he had been blessed now with two beautiful daughters and a son. After suffering so much grief in his life he thought it would never, and could never be filled with the immense joy and happiness as it was now. The person who he owed all gratitude for, who he would do anything for at whatever cost, who he love dearly and above everything else, was his Marianne. He had never felt so true and deep meaning of love as he did when he first saw her. He had loved Eliza , he knew that and could never deny it, as the memory of her haunted him for many years after she had gone. His feelings for Eliza, as deep and true as they were, however were of no comparison as to what came to him when he set eyes on Marianne. Her resemblance to Eliza was only a fraction of what he saw in her, for the rest of him was draw into her spirit which was unlike any others persons he had met. When he was younger he had loved Eliza with all strength and feeling as he did Marianne; but watching Marianne as she played beautifully at the pianoforte, he felt something from her that drew him to her, and a feeling which he felt for her which was impossible to describe, that was unlike anything else, that he did not know even ceased to exist; and from that moment he knew that whatever his past, his heart was always meant for and will ever be hers, he had just not found her before.
An hour later, as the brightness of the sun was slowly fading into an orange light, cascading the room, Marianne slowly began to stir. Her head became clearer and she could begin to open her eyes gradually to the soft lighting. On her hand she could feel the weight of another's, and the gentle feeling of small circles been made in her palm. She quietly sighed at how relived, content and loved she felt at this moment from her resting place beneath the sheets. With a last effort to open her eyes she looked upon her husband, and their new child. With just her eyes setting upon them she felt chords of gentle and so powerful emotions pull into her.
She could scarcely remember a time when she had not looked upon her husband this way, and when she did she could hardly believe that it had took her so long to see him for all his emotions and strong feelings, carried with such a grace. That he was everything she ever truly needed. No poetry or expressions could describe her feelings, for they were all too exaggerated without enough feeling, too sedate without compassion, or too much someone's perception of what is to be romance and love, rather than its true meaning, and deepest, un-controlling sentiments. As she looked up into his eyes now so lovingly an expression in both of theirs, she once again became overwhelmed by the sight of him been here, and their beautiful new child, a miracle which had been bestowed upon them, and she would not wish to have with anybody else.
After a first few moments of silence and their smiles, he kissed her gently, and asked her how she was feeling. Afterward Colonel Brandon moved to be closer to her on the bed, and with one arm wrapped around their son and the other around Marianne, he gently pulled her up further, carefully without hurting her, so she could lean against him, and passed her their baby. When he pulled her up he closed his eyes and kissed the top of her head, feeling her warmth in his arms. She leaned back against him with closed eyes, and they looked down at her son and with her and Brandon's fingers entwined, stroked his fine light hair.
"He's so beautiful." She breathed as she held her son; his eyes occasionally opened to reveal a blue, and was now sleeping peacefully again."I know I have said so before but he truly is."
""You should hardly be surprised since you are his mother."
"As you have told me so before." She turned to face him with a slightly more alert but tired, and amused expression on her face.
"And I'll never be able to tell you that enough." He said in a final and loving way and kissed the top of her head again. She laughed lightly and after he had done so, lifted up kissed his hand which was held in hers, holding each other's gaze.
In the moments that followed they remained there, watching and cradling their son, Colonel Brandon's arms around both Marianne and their baby, with loving and honest words expressed. The calm happiness and tranquillity was drifting in the bedroom, and throughout the manor. Occasionally their daughter's laughs came melodically from downstairs, adding to the joy and peaceful atmosphere. In those moment's, a stillness had descended over delaford, in which the passing of time or setting sun was of no concern, and only the complete perfection, and emotion of the moment. The curtains in the room gently swayed in the breeze, and at that moment, in each other's arms with their son with them, and family and daughters downstairs, neither Marianne nor Brandon could be happier.
Authors note: What did you think? Review and tell me, I'm rather curious to hear people's reactions (: