Motherhood fucking sucks.

Leandra thought she would be ready after how much she babysat her nieces and nephews. She knew kids would try your patience. She knew that they were messy. She knew she would be tested harder than she'd ever been. She thought knowing would be enough.

It was not.

Looking back she realized that she had spent most of that time playing games and coloring books, rather than feeding and dressing and changing diapers and cleaning mess after mess after mess.

Leandra didn't think she could love anyone more than she loved Malcolm. But now her baby consumed her every waking thought and breath. It hurt. She didn't know love could hurt this much.

Every moment was spent keeping this child alive and safe, and she was exhausted. More exhausted than she thought was possible. More stressed out than she could even handle. There was so much her mother didn't prepare her for.

Like breastfeeding. It was understood Leandra would have a wetnurse, but obviously that wasn't possible anymore. Leandra had thought, no problem. What was the big deal?

Well, breastfeeding was painful. And inconvenient. And tiring. Leandra had a special nipple cream to help with the chafing, but still, she cracked and bled. Malcolm healed her wounds as best as he could, but she was so sore all the time.

Leandra tried pumping after finding a mommy blog that suggested it. It seemed like a good idea. Malcolm could take over some of the night feedings. But Charlie was a fussy baby, as picky of an eater as Leandra was. She refused the bottle and would only take Leandra's breast.

When Malcolm was home, it was a blessing. He was an attentive partner, who helped cook and clean and seemed to effortlessly keep Charlie entertained. But Leandra knew Malcolm was pushing past his limit, because she often found him passed out in the middle of whatever he was doing.

Every day was the same nightmare, played out a little differently, sure, but one thing stayed constant. Malcolm would get up for work and Leandra would get up to dress Charlie so they could say goodbye. And then, as soon as Malcolm left, Charlie would scream her head off until he got home.

Sometimes Leandra could distract Charlie with playtime or her dragon stuffie or a phone game or some food, but today she just wouldn't stop.

Finding work paperless was tough enough, even harder for an elf. The only place that would hire Malcolm was a kitchen, and his shifts easily stretched for twelve hours at a time. By hour one Leandra's ears were ringing, by hour three her head was pounding. By the tenth hour of nonstop screaming and rocking and teething biscuits and burping and many failed games of peekaboo, Leandra was out of ideas. The neighbors were now yelling and pounding on her walls and she had joined her daughter bawling.

Charlie cried harder when Leandra put her down, so she rocked her baby helplessly, hoping that Malcolm would somehow get sent home early.

She prayed for the Maker for strength. The screaming was making her lose her mind. She sang the Chant under her breath, though her voice did not soothe Charlie as Malcolm's did.

And just when Leandra thought she might kill herself or smother her baby with a pillow or both Malcolm came through the door.

It was a miracle. Immediately Charlie's wails stopped. She started wriggling out of Leandra's arms.

"Da! Da!" Her first and only word, but she had it down pat, and was shrieking with all the rage an eight-month-old could manage.

Malcolm was balancing two white plastic bags in his hands. From the smell, it was leftovers from the Bistro he worked at. He immediately set them down on the kitchen table and scooped his daughter into his arms. "Hey, young lady, did you give your mama a hard time again?" he asked in a stern voice. "We talked about this."

Charlie flapped her arms and smacked at him. Her little brown freckled face was furious, her strange roundly pointed ears wiggling. "Da!"

"I know. I know. You missed me." Malcolm blew a raspberry into her cheek.

Charlie squealed in delight, her giggles bouncing off the cramped one bedroom apartment.

Leandra knew the sight of her husband and child should fill her with joy, and it did, but there was another ugly emotion gnarling in her. Jealousy. She tried to hide her fresh tears in her hands but it was too late. "I'm useless!" she sobbed.

"Hey, hey don't say that." Soon Malcolm wrapped Leandra in a hug, squishing Charlie between them. "That's not true. I'm nothing without you."

Leandra continued to bawl and couldn't stop even as her daughter gurgled happily. "Charlie loves you best. She doesn't even want me!"

"That's not true. You should see when you're in the bathroom. It's a scramble to keep her from wailing."

Leandra hiccuped at that, momentarily stopping her sobs. "She misses me?"

Malcolm chuckled before he could stop himself. "Of course she misses you. Look how happy she is that we're all together."

Leandra looked down to see Charlie cooing in contentment, her head tucked on Malcolm's chest as she played with a fistful of Leandra's black locks, now less silky as they hadn't been brushed for days.

Malcolm leaned so his forehead was touching Leandra's, his curls tickling her, and looked directly into her bloodshot doe eyes. "You are the strongest woman I know. You keep Charlie and me alive every single day. Be nicer to yourself." Then he kissed her, tasting the salt of her tears.

Kissing Malcolm always made her remember why she was doing this. He made everything worth it.

Charlie giggled in delight as she was smothered in a hug.

Malcolm stroked Leandra's flushed cheek, wiping away some tears. "I need some quality time with Charlie anyway. Why don't we get dinner ready together and you can soak in the bath for a while? When you come out, we can watch TV and I'll give you a foot massage."

That sounded wonderful. Leandra did feel grody, with spat up milk still soaking her pink nightgown. She did need a moment to herself just to breathe. "What would I do without you?"

"Be miserable forever," Malcolm joked, kissing her cheek. "But you don't have to worry. I'm sticking around for a long time."

She gave Malcolm a thankful peck and then went to give Charlie one, which Charlie hid her face in Malcolm's chest to avoid.

Leandra huffed. "Fine! I see I'm not wanted so I'll leave."

Malcolm's smile dropped. "Oh, babe. Don't be like that."

"You don't tell me what to do!"

Leandra stomped away. She knew she was being petty with a baby, but she was so fragile that the rejection broke her. She stormed into her bedroom, certain that, when she was done with her bath, she would find Malcolm and Charlie playing like she always did.

Her bedroom was still the disaster it had been since Charlie was born. The laundry was piling up on the floor and so were the dishes in the sink. It seemed like the fridge was empty yet again, and her boobs were hurting so she knew it would be time to feed Charlie soon.

Instead of running the water, Leandra started on the laundry pile on the floor. She grumbled to herself. Malcolm was almost as messy as Charlie was, not that she was any better. Still, the sight of the haphazard disarray of her bedroom had her too distracted to even think of relaxing.

She wanted to start running the water for her bath, hop in and just soak and forget everything for just a moment. She needed that more than anything. But she was so behind on everything, and she felt like she was just falling further. Bathing seemed like a luxury she couldn't afford right now.

She shoved as many clothes into the overflowing hamper as she could and then pulled the laundry basket onto the chair and started folding on the bed. She muttered under her breath as she folded, wishing more than ever she was back at her mansion in Kirkwall where she had servants to do this. A minute into her cleaning frenzy, she stopped when she heard a familiar wail.

"Mama! Mama!"

Leandra gasped and dropped Malcolm's boxers, dashing off the bed and back into the living room to see Malcolm holding a wiggling Charlie, reaching wildly for her. Her odd mismatched blue and brown eyes were filled with tears.

Leandra's mouth dropped, "Did she… Did she just say?"

"Mama!"

Malcolm grinned triumphantly. "I told you she loved you."

Charlie's face was scrunching up and reaching for her as if Leandra would vanish in thin air. "Mama! Mama!"

Malcolm chuckled. "I tell you, if I don't distract her every second you're gone, she completely falls apart."

Leandra knew she shouldn't feel joy to see her child in pain, but to know Charlie loved her after all this- She needed that.

She scooped Charlie up from Malcolm's arms. "I'm here, baby, I'm here."

Malcolm raised a thick eyebrow. "What happened to your bath?"

Leandra shrugged. "It's family time. I can bathe later." Then her dark eyes glimmered in mischief. "Maybe you can join me."

Malcolm's smirk was back. "Should I put a sleep spell on Charlie?"

Leandra smacked him lightly on the arm. "Malcolm! Do not drug our child!"

Charlie laughed in delight, clapping.

Malcolm laughed, too. "Magic is the only reason I'm a halfway decent father, babe. Otherwise, I'd be useless."

Leandra's anger softened. "Magic is not why you're a good father." She reached out and squeezed his hand. "You are a good father because you try. You try harder than anyone else I know."

Malcolm's lips curled in a smile. "You try, too." He picked up her hand and kissed it. "We're going to make mistakes. We just won't stop trying, yeah?"

Charlie curled into Leandra's neck and yawned, her little eyes starting to flutter shut. Soon her body turned heavier as she drifted off.

Malcolm chuckled and caressed his daughter's curls. "See. You're better than me. You don't even need magic."

Leandra smiled, her dimples deepening, and kissed her husband. She knew as long as she had Malcolm she could do anything.