Hullo, every one! I have always been a fan of Sense and Sensibility, but I have only just recently given though to writing fanfiction for Jane Austen's beloved novel. It has been a while since I read the book so please, forgive any errors in the language I used below-I did the best that I could. ;)

Disclaimer: I do not own Sense and Sensibility, it belongs to the talented Miss Jane Austen. Any copyright infringement is unintentional.

Please, let me know what you think; constructive criticism is welcome, but flames are for fireplaces and not fanfiction. ;) ~ Knowing Grace


Thank You

by Knowing Grace

"He is so small."

A smile curled up the edges of my lips. "Mmm, yes, children usually are when they first come into the world." I stated, trying to keep myself awake for a few minutes more. I was so incredibly tired, but it was a delicious exhaustion—one that came from many hours of hard labour succeeded by a rich reward. "Do you wish to hold him?"

He drew in a sharp breath and looked at me with terror and more than a bit of awe in his blue eyes. "I dare not! I-I fear I might break him."

I could not help myself. Tilting back my head, I let forth with a peal of laughter that was still not quite as loud as my usual gaiety, due to my extreme fatigue. "You shall not break him, Dear One," I replied when I had regained my breath, "he is a Brandon and made of far sterner stuff than that. Here." And without giving him a chance to refuse, I ever so gently deposited our scarcely-an-hour-old babe into his arms. The child seemed if at all possible, ever tinier now that he lay in his father's embrace.

Christopher froze, and I could not help but chuckle at the thought that this man who had led others into battle could be filled with fear at the thought of handling a newborn babe. Slowly, he relaxed, and soon, he pulled away the blanket swathing our son.

Our son! The knowledge that this tiny, new life was the product of the love between myself and my beloved husband was enough to cause tears to prick in my eyes. Through a blur, I watched as the man I loved with my entire being counted each finger and each toe of our child.

At length, his eyes met mine, and I could see that he was barely keeping his own tears in check.

He is perfect." He whispered and I reached a tremulous hand up to cup my husband's jaw in my palm. I glanced down at the sleeping infant and felt my heart overflowing with love for him and for the man I had wedded a scarce ten months previous.

"I thank you." The words were spoken through a sob, and I glanced up just in time to see my husband wipe away a single tear that had rolled its way down his right cheek. "I thank you ever so much, Marianne...My dearest, sweetest, loveliest, Marianne."

The morning sun chose that moment to slip between the parted curtains, staining the carpets a rich, golden colour.

I leaned forward, pressing my forehead against his. "No, Dearest, I thank you."

~Finis