Disclaimer: Tom, Polly and all "Fire and Hemlock" related material belongs to Diana Wynne Jones who should be worshipped and made a saint. I own nothing (except Janet).
Note : The idea for this fic came about after re-reading both 'Fire and Hemlock' and 'The Ballad of Tam Lin' for the umpteenth time. I was struck by the passages in the ballad (one of which I have used as an epitaph for this fic) which refer to Janet being pregnant with Tam Lin's child. This got me wondering if Tom and Polly might have had children after the book ended. The result of my musings is now presented here for your enjoyment (assuming that my writing is actually good enough to be enjoyed). I apologise if any of the characters seem OOC as this is my first attempt at writing any of Diana Wynne Jones characters.
New Beginnings
"They'll turn me in your arms, lady,
Into an esk and adder,
But hold me fast, and fear me not,
I am your child's father."
"Not long now, Mrs Lynn", the midwife said cheerfully.
"That's what you said half an hour ago", Polly mumbled through gritted teeth. She gasped and gripped Tom's hand tighter as another contraction coursed through her. The pain seemed never-ending. It had already been almost thirteen hours since she had been awoken by the first contractions. At first she had thought they were merely stomach pains. After all, the doctors had assured her that the baby wouldn't arrive for at least another two weeks, but the spasms quickly became stronger and more frequent and that's when she had woke Tom.
Polly winced, rather, remembering their journey to the hospital. If Tom drove like a hero normally then his driving in an emergency was positively god-like, as if he were totally immortal. They had screamed through half a dozen red lights, narrowly avoided hitting at least three people and almost drove through the front doors of the hospital before Tom gathered his wits enough to slam on the breaks.
Polly was jolted back to the present by the midwife's insistent voice, "Time to push, Mrs Lynn". Polly tried, she really did, but the pain was so great she felt as though she might drown in it. She looked up at Tom and was dimly surprised to find him looking rather pale. Under any other circumstances she would probably have laughed at his nervousness but, here now, there were more pressing matters to attend to. "I…I can't, Tom", she half sobbed, "It's so hard".
"You really must push, Mrs Lynn", the midwife said urgently. On hearing the midwife's tone Tom seemed to pull himself together. The colour returned to his cheeks and he was Tan Coul, Hero of the West, once more. He smiled that beloved, gentle smile of his.
"Of course you can, Polly," he said gently, smoothing her silver blonde hair back from her forehead and placing a soft kiss to her damp brow. "We've been through far worse than this".
Polly did laugh at that. "You mean paper monsters and mad horses? she asked.
"Exactly. Why, we've even slain dragons and killed giants." he smiled at her and then, much more seriously, "Come on, Polly. We haven't come this far to give up now". Polly knew what he meant. The pregnancy had been a difficult one, mainly because she had been so anxious about the safety of the baby. Even though she and Tom had been married for five years and had very little out of the ordinary happen to them, Polly still feared that Laurel might exact her revenge on them someday. And harming their child seemed exactly the kind of sick plot Laurel might think up.
Polly called on all her reserves of strength and pushed, barely registering the midwife's words of encouragement and conscious only of Tom's hand in hers while his free hand stroked her hair soothingly. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Polly heard a loud, high pitched crying and Tom murmuring into her hair, "That's my Hero", as she fell back against the pillows, totally exhausted.
After much cleaning and bustling about, the midwife placed a blanket encased bundle into Polly's arms. She parted the edges of the blanket a little further and she and Tom were given their first glimpse of their daughter.
"She's so beautiful", Polly said in an awed whisper. She glanced up at Tom, whose eyes were fixed on his baby girl, and she could see that he was thinking much the same thing. She watched as he reached out a hand to stroke the baby's fine mop of silver blonde hair - Polly's hair. "What are we going to call her? We never did decide on any names".
Tom looked from her to the baby for a few minutes, considering, and then said firmly, "Janet. We'll name her Janet". Polly smiled and tears sprang to her eyes as she realised why he had chosen that name, but she did not let them fall. Today was a day of new beginnings and new adventures, not a time to dwell on past events.
"Janet", she repeated softly gazing at the tiny, perfect form lying sleeping in her arms, a being who personified, in her perfection, both Tom and Polly's complete freedom from Laurel's power. "Yes, I think that suits her very well".
Fin
Note: Please read and review. As I'm still relatively new to this fanfiction writing lark I would welcome any constructive criticism.
