Title: The Arrival

Author: Rose

Email: buffybot76@hotmail.com

Rating: PG

Genre: Drama/Romance

Pairing: Brandon/Marianne

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from the movie Sense and Sensiblility. They belong to their creator Jane Austen.

Distribution: If you want it, just tell me where it's going.

Spoilers: The movie Sense and Sensibility, starring Alan Rickman as Col. Brandon and Kate Winslett as Marianne Dashwood.

Summary: Okay, you all know the little rhyme, first comes love, then comes marriage.... well, we all know what comes next, right?

Feedback: Yes, please

Note #1: I was inspired by Laura to do this, I hope I haven't worn myself out with this. Hope you enjoy!

Note #2: A big thank you to Denise for being my sounding board as I wrote this. It was very challenging to say the least. Thanks, D!!

Colonel Christopher Brandon was in a state of anxiety as he paced the hallway outside of the bedroom. Just inside, his wife lay in the pains of labour. He had been adamant in his resolve to stay at his wife's side, but having been almost bodily forced out of the room as the critical moment approached, he had been reduced to useless pacing. An unconscious reenactment of another time when he had paced the halls outside of another room, where this same woman had fought an illness which threatened to take her life. Now, she was fighting again. Fighting to bring their first child into the world.

At each heartwrenching cry that came from behind the closed door, Brandon had to restrain himself from barging through the door, to be at his beloved's side. He knew his presence would only hinder the doctor and Mrs. Dashwood as they set about the delivery of the child. His child. Upon what seemed like the hundredth pass by the bedroom door, a servant approached Col. Brandon with the news that there were visitors downstairs.

"Sir, Mr. and Mrs. Ferrars are downstairs, along with young Miss Margaret." The servant said.

Col. Brandon was brought up short in his pacing and nodding to the servant, turned to go downstairs to greet his guests. When he reached the foyer where his guests stood, he opened his mouth to welcome them. Only to find himself the target of a barrage of questions from the youngest Dashwood daughter.

"Col. Brandon, how is Marianne? Has the baby come yet? Is it a boy or a girl? Where is my mother? Does she know?"

Col. Brandon halted the girl's interrogation concerning her sister and mother by inviting them into the study. The three followed behind Brandon as he led the way. Once they entered the study, Brandon headed straight for the brandy to pour himself a tumblerful. His nerves were as frazzled now, as they had been on the day of his and Marianne's wedding day. He was stopped when a hand came up to still his own.

"Wouldn't a prayer be more appropriate at this time, Colonel." Edward asked quietly, so as not frighten Elinor or upset Margaret. He silently urged Brandon to put down the bottle of amber liquid.

Brandon smiled ruefully at the clergyman in front of him. Although he felt that he could certainly use the brandy at this moment, he was pretty sure that he didn't need it. He nodded his assent and replaced the bottle back under the bar. He smiled an apologetic smile at the two women, trying his best to assure them as well as himself.

"I am sure that everything is going well, Maragaret. As for your mother, she does indeed know. In fact, she is upstairs assisting the doctor as we speak." Brandon spoke in his smooth voice.

"Perhaps a prayer would be in order, if you please Edward." The Colonel motioned for Elinor and Margaret to come closer. Clasping hands, the group formed a small circle and bowed their heads. Edward then proceeded to lead them in a prayer on behalf of Marianne and her yet to be born child.

"Dear Heavenly Father, we come before you in prayer to ask that you watch over your beloved daughter Mrs. Marianne Brandon, as she prepares to deliver a new life unto Your beautiful world...."

*~*~*~*~*

A bloodcurdling scream filled the upstairs bedroom, where Marianne Brandon lay in a bed of sweat drenched sheets, as a particularly vicious contraction hit. Mrs. Dashwood sat beside her daughter, gingerly mopping the young woman's forehead with a damp cloth, all the while murmuring comforting words into her ear.

"Now, now Marianne, it'll all be over soon. Just keep calm and before you know it, you'll have a beautiful son or daughter of your very own. Isn't that wonderful, dear?" Mrs. Dashwood cooed to her exhausted daughter.

Marianne, though try as she might, could not manage to calm down as another labor pain took over her already pain-wracked body. It was when the contraction had passed that the doctor spoke.

"Alright then, Mrs. Brandon, when the next contraction passes, I need you to bear down for me. Do you understand?" The doctor spoke in a kind, and reassuring voice.

Marianne nodded wearily, and gathering up what little strength she possessed, prepared to push.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Downstairs, new guests had arrived and were being shown into the study. Col. Brandon suppressed a groan as Mrs. Jennings and Sir. John entered the room.

"Col. Brandon, how are you holding up, dear boy? Is there anything I can do to help. I'm sure Mrs. Dashwood probably wouldn't mind an extra hand in there. Another woman with experience, you know." Mrs. Jennings began heading for the stairs, but was intercepted by Elinor, who placing her arms around the stout woman's shoulders, steered her toward the kitchen.

"Perhaps we would be more useful in preparing refreshments for the good doctor and Mrs. Dashwood. And I am equally sure that Col. Brandon is quite famished. Aren't you Colonel?" Elinor gave Col. Brandon a pleading look over Mrs. Jennings shoulder.

Col. Brandon needed no prompting and gave Elinor a thankful look.

"Yes, that I am, and I am sure that Sir. John could use a bit of tea as well." Brandon looked over at the man who heading for the bar.

Mrs. Jennings and Elinor left the study to fetch the tea, while Margaret took the time to thank Edward for leading them in prayer. She made a point of eyeing Sir. John as she said this, seeing that the man was about to invade the brandy. Sir John instantly looked contrite as he set the brandy back on the shelf.

It seemed like no time at all when Mrs. Jennings and Elinor reentered the study, Elinor carrying a silver tray piled high with crumpets and finger sandwiches. Mrs. Jennings followed behind with a similar tray, this one held tea cups and a pot filled with piping hot tea.

"Oh, look Sir. John, here's the refreshments." Margaret commented, taking the elder man by the arm and propelling him toward one of the plush armchairs.

Everyone occupying the study were settled in a seat, Elinor had leaned forward to pour another round of tea, when Marianne's grief stricken scream drifted down from the bedroom and into the study.

"NOOO!"

Col. Brandon was to his feet in a heartbeat and making for the stairs when a sobbing Mrs. Dashwood descended to give them the heartbreaking news.

"The baby is breech, Colonel. The doctor is trying to turn it, but he's having trouble..."

Brandon heard no more past the first sentence, for he was dashing up the stairs by then, Edward following closely behind. Back in the doorway of the study, Mrs. Jennings was doing her best to comfort Elinor, while Mrs. Dashwood held a sobbing Margaret in her arms. Sir. John drifted to the foot of the stairs, undecided on whether he should follow or remain downstairs with the distraught women. Brandon had made it to the second floor landing when he felt Edward's hand on his shoulder, but he simply shrugged it off and continued down the hallway. He reached for the doorknob, preparing to fling open the door so that he could be by his beloved, his Marianne's side.

At that moment a sound issued from the room. A sound which stilled his hand. A sound that he had dreaded for an instant would not grace his ears. The lusty cries of a baby. The wave of relief that washed over Col. Brandon then nearly overwhelmed him. He heard a rustle behind him as Edward hurried back down the hall to assure the stricken women downstairs that everything was fine, that the danger had passed. Col. Brandon took the moment of solitude as a chance to collect himself before allowing his hand to finish the task of reaching and opening the door. Though he had his wits about him, a sheen of sweat still graced his brow. The door creaked open bit by bit until finally opening all the way, Col. Brandon's form filling the archway. The scene that lay before him nearly stole his breath away.

There, amidst a swath of sweat drenched cotton sheets, lay his wife. A small bundle cuddled to her chest. The sounds of a baby happily feeding from it's mother's breast filled the room, causing a broad smile to appear on the Colonel's face. He stood there, frozen in place, not really knowing what to do next. The doctor approached him then, offering his hand to the dumbstruck Colonel.

"Congratulations, Col. Brandon. You have a beautiful baby girl. Though I do say, she is just as stubborn as her mother." The doctor smiled as Brandon accepted his hand, pumping it enthusiastically as reality kicked in.

He had a daughter.

Col. Brandon, nodded to the doctor in thanks for all he had done. The doctor left the room then to go relay the news to the others. Brandon slowly made his way to the bed. Marianne looked up, meeting her husband's eyes with a look of pure adoration and love.

"Oh Christopher, come. Come and see your daughter." Marianne urged. "Isn't she just the loveliest thing you have ever seen?"

Col. Brandon sat gently on the bed beside his wife then as she gently tugged back the blanket so that he could see the baby's features. It was beautiful. Perfect really, with her little chubby cheeks and rosebud shaped lips that were hungrily suckling at Marianne's breast. The hair on top of her head was as downy as a kitten's fur. He had dreaded the child would inherit his nose, but was relieved to see that it had not. Her nose was perfect, as was the rest of her.

"Would you care to hold her, Christopher?" Marianne inquired.

She watched in amusement as a look of abject terror flitted across her husband's face. Brandon all but leapt from the bed, sputtering all the while about fetching Marianne a cup of tea. He turned to find his escape route cut off though, as both Margaret and Elinor entered, followed closely by Mrs. Dashwood, Jennings and the men. Sighing in defeat, Brandon turned back to his highly amused wife. Marianne arched a brow at her husband then, as a look of askance entered her eyes.

Apprehensively, Brandon retraced his steps back to the bed, a look of dread filling his face. With shaking hands he reached for the delicate bundle which Marianne held out for him to take. As the weight of his child settled in his arms, a new emotion took place of the dread.

Joy.

A smile emerged that nearly split Brandon's face in two, as he beamed down at the precious child he had helped to create. Tears of joy flooded his eyes then, streaming freely down his cheeks. Margaret moved closer to take a peek at her brand new neice. Brandon looked to her briefly, and in a voice thicker than usual, he spoke coherently for the first time since entering the room.

A smile emerged that nearly split Brandon's face in two, as he beamed down at the precious child he had helped to create. Tears of joy flooded his eyes then, streaming freely down his cheeks. Margaret moved closer to take a peek at her brand new neice. Brandon looked to her briefly, and in a voice thicker than usual, he spoke for the first time since entering the room.

"She's perfect." He murmured softly. He turned to Marianne then, to stare as if mesmerized. "What shall we name her?"

Marianne looked thoughtful for a moment before a smile inched it's way onto her face. "It think... Margaret Rose Brandon. What do you think, dear?"

The youngest Dashwood let out a gasp of surprise at this, turning to look first to her smiling mother, then to the others gathered in the doorway.

"Ah yes, the perfect namesake my dear. The Colonel and your sister has always gotten along well. Haven't you Brandon?" Mrs. Jenning gushed, happy to put her two cents worth in.

Col. Brandon smiled tenderly at Margaret then. "Indeed we have. And I think Margaret would be the perfect name for such a perfect child."

Mrs. Dashwood moved forward then and took her grandchild so that Brandon could go to his wife, which he did, enveloping her in his strong arms and applying a gentle kiss to her forehead. Resting his cheek atop her head, Col. Brandon whispered a silent thank you to the heavenly Father for blessing them so graciously. Pulling back slightly, he gazed lovingly into his wife's eyes.

"I love you, Marianne." He uttered softly.

"And I you, Christopher." Came the soft reply.

Completely ignoring the audience that stood smiling in the archway of the door, Christopher Brandon kissed his beloved Marianne then. Thanking her for giving him a gift like no other.

A family.

*~*~*~*~*

The End



Next: The Gift