April's prompt: canon divergence
tw: brief description of miscarriage/pregnancy loss; skip italicized words
Breathing a contented sigh, Cora returned the soap to the holder and placed her hands on the rim of the tub, pushing herself onto her feet. Carefully leaning over, she grabbed the towel O'Brien had left for her and wound it around her soaking frame. Her slight protruding belly caught her eye and she smiled. Her little miracle. Oh, how happy she had been when her suspicions had been confirmed. She and Robert were to have another baby, another miracle conceived entirely from love and without a single thought towards duty. Gently running her hand over her bump in a loving caress, she stepped over the edge of the tub…
From somewhere in the distance she heard O'Brien call to her. The sound was muffled and faint, like hearing someone speak while underwater. But Cora couldn't answer. She watched from above as her body hurtled toward the cold tile floor. She shouted at herself to do something, to catch herself, to break the fall, but her leaden limbs refused to respond to her commands. It was too late. An anguished cry tore from the back of her throat as she crumpled to the floor, the sickening thud reverberating around the room. 'No, No, No…'
"Cora!"
With a jolt she twisted to the side, a painful gasp escaping her lips. Distantly, she heard her name, but it didn't register. She was still someplace between wakefulness and slumber, her surroundings like that of vapor. Her baby. Where was her baby? She tried to move her hands to her abdomen, but something held her arms in place.
"Cora, wake up!" someone called. "It's a dream, Cora."
Gasping for air as though she had been held submerged beneath the water, she finally pulled free from the clutches of her nightmare. She was awake, but disoriented, the horrors of her dream still fresh in her mind. She continued to pant heavily, her lungs starved of oxygen, as she scanned her eyes around the darkened room, trying to remember where she was.
"Baby?" she croaked. Tears, intermingled with the sweat that beaded her skin, ran down her face, soaking the collar of her nightgown. "Where's my baby?"
"Shhh," Robert whispered softly, his fingers gently coursing through her hair. Her gaze finally met his and she saw he was hovering over her, concern etched into his features. "You're alright. It was just a nightmare."
"Where is my baby?" she asked, her voice barely audible. Robert no longer held her arms in his grasp, but she was afraid to reach down and find the nightmare wasn't only a dream.
Gently, Robert took her hand in his and placed it on her swollen abdomen. "Right here," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple, "and perfectly healthy."
Beneath her palm, her belly rippled, proving the occupancy of the healthy life within. Exhaling a sigh of relief, she brought her other hand down and cradled her bump between her palms, her fingers gently caressing her baby.
"I'm sorry for waking you," she murmured.
"There is no need to apologize for something you can't help." Robert tipped her head up so their gazes met. "Are you alright?"
She nodded and once again lowered her gaze to her abdomen, afraid if she took her eyes away even for a moment, her baby would disappear.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
She didn't. The recurrence of the nightmare had irrationally convinced her that giving voice to it would make it true. Especially since it already held some verity. In the early months of her pregnancy, Cora had slipped climbing out of the tub, but she had managed to stop the fall. Suffering no ill effects, she had elected to not tell anyone, for fear of causing undue worry. But shortly thereafter, she had her first nightmare and, as she neared her due date, they became more vivid and frequent, the lines between dream and reality blurred. Robert obviously knew she was plagued with nightmares, but her fear, illogical as it was, outweighed her normal reluctance at concealing things from him.
"No," she murmured, unable to look him in the eye.
Much to her relief, he didn't force the issue. Instead, he pressed another kiss to her forehead and settled next to her once again. Leaning over, he switched on the lamp and grabbed the book off the nightstand. He gathered her into his arms and Cora adjusted until she could rest comfortably against him. It took longer now that she was at the end of her pregnancy, but she eventually found a position that was tolerable. She glanced up and noticed Robert watching her with amused adoration. Rolling her eyes, she rested her head against his shoulder and draped her arm across his torso, squeezing him tightly to her.
Softly, he began to read. His voice was soothing and Cora felt herself melting against him as her earlier stress and tension left her body. It wasn't long before her eyes fluttered closed and she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
It was only a few hours later when she was jolted awake once again. However instead of a nightmare waking her, it was a sharp and burning ache in her abdomen. Taking in a deep breath, she forced herself to slowly exhale, repeating the practice as she waited for the pain to abate. After several moments, the muscles in her abdomen loosened and the discomfort eased. Closing her eyes, she relaxed back against the pillows and waited. If it was true labor, she would soon have another pain.
She didn't have to wait long. Minutes later, she felt a gush of liquid followed by another contraction. Breathing through it, she reached her hand across the mattress to wake Robert. But when all she felt beneath her palm was empty sheets, she looked over and found his side of the bed empty. Turning her head towards the windows, she caught glimpses of the first traces of daylight seeping through the tiny gaps in the curtains. Robert would already be in the midst of dressing for the day. Not wanting to disturb him, Cora waited until her current contraction abated before reaching over and tugging on the bell pull.
A few moments later, O'Brien hurried into the room, a flustered expression in place of her normally austere appearance. Belatedly Cora realized the earliness of the hour and what her ring would have told O'Brien. But before either of them could say anything, Cora's abdomen tightened once again.
"Shall I fetch Dr. Clarkson, milady?" O'Brien asked.
"Please," she grimaced. Cora forced out a breath and held out her hand, motioning for her maid to wait. "And O'Brien, I need a change of linens when you get back. I'm afraid my water broke."
"Right away, milady."
Before O'Brien had taken another step, the dividing door popped open and Robert strode in, a smile wreathing his lips.
"Cora, I thought I heard— Cora!?" He rushed to her side and took her hand in his, squeezing it tightly. "What is it? Are you alright? What's happened?" he asked in rapid succession.
"Robert, I'm quite obviously in labor," she sighed, leaning back against the headboard in relief when the ache passed.
Robert's eyes comically widened, his jaw dropping. Biting her lip, Cora smothered the urge to laugh at her husband's bewilderment. After three previous labors, she would have thought he had a clue about what happens at the end of a pregnancy.
Bounding to his feet in a visible panic, he exclaimed, "Someone needs to fetch Dr. Clarkson!"
Cora allowed herself to laugh as she stretched her hand towards him in an effort to stop him, but he was out of reach. "Darling, O'Brien has already seen to it."
Wringing his hands, Robert began to anxiously pace the floor. "Then why isn't he here yet? He should be here. You're in labor for heaven's sake!"
"I'd be surprised if O'Brien has even had a chance to get to the telephone yet. She was leaving just as you came in."
Taking advantage of the apparent reprieve, she adjusted more comfortably against the pillows and stroked her hands along her abdomen. Her gaze never left Robert as he continued his caged-tiger-like pacing beside the bed. He had acted the same way with each of her previous pregnancies. While slightly irritating, his concern was also incredibly endearing.
"Robert," she called softly. He whirled around to face her, panic in his eyes. Smiling, she extended her right hand to him. "Darling, come here."
He hurried to her and once again sat on the edge of the mattress. "Cora, what is it? Is something wrong?"
She chuckled softly. "Yes. You." A look of offense crossed his face, but she placed her other hand atop their joined ones and squeezed, saying with more confidence than she felt, "Darling, I have already done this three times. Everything will be alright."
His expression softening, Robert sighed and brought her hands to his lips, pressing loving kisses to her silken skin. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "It's just after last time…"
"I know," Cora whispered when he lapsed off. "But we can't focus on it. It won't help anything."
He let out a humorless laugh. "I guess I'll feel better when Clarkson gets here."
Cora squeezed his hand again, but remained silent. Neither one of them would feel better until both she and the baby made it through the delivery. Feeling another contraction building, Cora moved to release her hand from his grasp, but he held fast.
"Another pain?" he asked.
Unable to do anything other than nod, she took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled, an involuntary whimper escaping her lips.
"Squeeze my hand as hard as you like," he whispered. He adjusted so that he sat along side her and made long, comforting passes across her back with his other hand. "You won't hurt me."
Cora doubted that very much, for she was crushing his hand between her fingers, but she appreciated his assurance all the same. After several intense moments, the pain eased and she felt as though she could breathe again.
"Dr. Clarkson is on his way, milady," O'Brien stated calmly as she reentered the room, her arms laded with folded linens.
Nodding, Cora turned her attention to Robert. His untimely appearance coinciding with her water breaking had forced her to remain where she was and it was a most unpleasant sensation. She needed him to leave the room, even if it was only long enough for O'Brien to change the bedding.
"You should go on and start your day," she said in what she hoped was a convincing tone. "O'Brien will keep watch."
"I don't want to leave you," he argued, his grip on her hand tightening.
"Robert, it's going to be a while yet. You're not going to want to be holed up here all day. I certainly wouldn't be if I could help it."
"No. I'm not going anywhere," he stated resolutely. "If it is going to be some time, I'm going to stay and keep you company."
Cora opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by O'Brien.
"Would you like me to change the bedding now, milady?" she asked, a hint of deviltry in her eyes.
Cora narrowed her eyes O'Brien in warning, but a grin twisted at the corners of her mouth. It was no secret just how squeamish Robert was about all things medical. "Yes, thank you, O'Brien."
Instantly, Robert leapt off the edge of the bed as though burned, his face paling into a faint shade of green and Cora laughed despite herself.
"Darling, go," she grinned. "I'll be fine. You can come back up later."
Visible relief washed over him as he cautiously leaned over so as not to touch the bed and pressed a kiss to her temple. "I'll check on you after breakfast."
"I look forward to it," she answered softly, eyes shining.
In the years since Sybil's birth, she had forgotten just how intense, painful, and long stretching labor was. An indeterminable number of hours had passed since her labor began, but in the brief moments of coherency between contractions, she would place the time somewhere in the early hours of the morning. Her contractions had merged into one long pain with only a few seconds of reprieve. She had hoped she was nearing delivery when the nurse had ushered Robert and the girls out of the room some time ago. But Dr. Clarkson had just looked in and said that it wasn't time yet.
Whimpers and groans continuously rolled in her throat as she lay on her left side in a nest of pillows, her body curled inward. It was the only position in which she felt a bit of relief, but even then it wasn't much. Behind her, O'Brien massaged her lower back, trying to help ease the pain. Groaning, Cora shifted away and motioned for O'Brien to halt her ministrations. While it had initially helped, she couldn't stand to be touched any longer. But as soon as O'Brien stopped, the pain intensified tenfold and she couldn't keep an audible sob from pushing passed her lips.
"Is it not time yet?" Rosamund asked. She had arrived in the afternoon and had surprisingly ensconced herself by Cora's side. "She has been like this for hours."
"She's not quite there yet, milady," answered the nurse.
"You've been saying that for hours too," Rosamund muttered under her breath. Reaching down, she gripped Cora's hand tightly in hers. "You're doing fine, Cora."
Cora shook her head and clamped her eyes shut, groaning deeply as she wrung Rosamund's hand. "Robert," she whimpered. "I want Robert."
"You're too near delivery, milady," answered the nurse, her voice less than sympathetic. "Lord Grantham should stay where he is."
"You know how little Robert can stomach medical incidents," Rosamund said gently, before adding in a joking tone, "We don't need two patients."
"Please," she cried. In the midst of the agony, Cora had little care for how petulant she may have sounded. She needed Robert, needed the comfort his presence could provide. "Just for a minute."
Rosamund sighed and squeezed her hand. "She's not delivering yet," she said to the nurse. "Surely there can't be any harm in his coming up for a moment."
"Her ladyship is too near her delivery," the nurse repeated, her tone harsh, bordering on the disrespectful. "It is best for her ladyship that he stay in—"
"The lack of Dr. Clarkson's presence would indicate that delivery has yet to become imminent," Violet remarked from her place across the room. "Please do as Lady Grantham requested and fetch his lordship."
"Very well, your ladyship," she answered stiffly, her angry footsteps thumping across the carpeted floor.
Writhing against the bed, Cora kicked away the blankets and mountain of pillows. With an agonized moan, she unsuccessfully tried to turn onto her other side.
"I need to roll over," she groaned, her jaw clamped shut.
"Easy does it, Cora," Rosamund said. "O'Brien and I will help you so you don't hurt yourself."
Just as Cora situated into a new position on her right side, Robert burst into the room. She looked up just in time to see him quickly calm his panicked expression. Immediately, he stretched himself across his side of the bed and grasped her hand in his. With the faintest of touches, he caressed her cheek with the back of his other hand.
"Darling," he murmured, kissing the hand that had entwined with his own.
"Robert," she whispered. It seemed impossible and entirely in her imagination, but as soon as his hand gripped hers, some of the pain lessened. How she had managed so long without his hand in hers, she had no idea. "I hope I haven't interrupted something important."
"There is nothing on this earth more important to me than you, Cora."
Managing a small smile, she brought their joined hands closer to herself and hugged them to her chest. Feeling another strong contraction, she squeezed her eyes shut and tightened her clutch on his hand, an involuntary moan rolling in her throat.
"Shhh," he soothed, pressing his forehead to hers. Robert combed his fingers through her hair, gently scraping his nails against her scalp. "You're doing wonderfully. The nurse tells me you are almost there."
"It doesn't feel like it," she muttered, resting her face against their joined hands.
"I can imagine it doesn't," he agreed softly. Lowering his hand, he carefully rested it against her abdomen. "I wish there was some way I could help you."
"You are helping," Cora answered, her voice low. "More than you could know."
"I'm sorry, milord," the nurse interrupted irritably. It was quite apparent she resented her authority being usurped. "But Dr. Clarkson needs to check her ladyship again. I'd advise returning downstairs."
Robert visibly stiffened, his gaze sharpening as he looked at the nurse. He opened his mouth to respond, but Cora squeezed his hand to silence him.
"It's alright, darling," she murmured.
"Are you certain? I'll stay if you want me to."
Cora let out a heavy breath and shook her head, the corners of her mouth turned up in a rueful smile. "You won't want to be here for this part. Like Rosamund said, we don't need two patients."
"If you're sure."
"Milord, if you please," cut in the nurse.
Entirely ignoring the nurse, Robert pressed a kiss to Cora's forehead, cheek, and lips. He began to move off the bed, but Cora pulled back on his hand.
"I love you, Robert," she stated with sudden urgency, her eyes locked on his. There was never any guarantee with childbirth and if this was her last chance to tell him, she needed him to know with absolute certainty.
Smiling, he leaned down and placed another kiss on her temple, squeezing her hand. "I love you too," he said so only she could hear. "I'll see you in a little while."
As soon as Robert had crossed the threshold, the nurse closed the door with a definitive bang. Rosamund glared at her as she moved to return to Cora's side, muttering under her breath about impertinent nurses.
Red hot pain seared through her. She was sure the lower half of her body was being ripped away, the action tearing the rest of her in half in the process. Sweat poured down her face, mixing with the involuntary tears that leaked from the corners of her eyes. Words of instruction and encouragement bombarded her, but she couldn't make sense of them. Her focus was entirely directed towards gathering more strength to keep pushing. But it was waning. She didn't remember it hurting this much or taking as long the last time.
"Come on, Cora," Rosamund encouraged. "You're so close."
"I can't," she cried, shaking her head. More tears streaked down her cheeks. Or was it sweat? She couldn't tell anymore.
"You've done this three times, Cora," Violet stated. Despite the matter-of-factness of the statement, her tone was gentle and laced with motivation. She stood somewhere on the other side of O'Brien. "You are more than capable."
Another contraction hit her and Cora audibly cried out. "Break," she sobbed, leaning even more heavily against Rosamund and O'Brien. "I need a break."
"You're doing well, Lady Grantham," came the calm and reassuring voice of Dr. Clarkson. "Just two more pushes and you should be done."
It seemed to Cora that he had said that about the previous two pushes. But she had no other choice than to continue. Focusing on the prospect of soon being able to hold her baby, she gathered what little strength she had and, taking a deep breath, pushed, a whimper escaping her clamped lips.
She didn't know how long or how many more times she pushed, but finally the pressure released. Collapsing back against the mountain of pillows, she allowed exhaustion to claim her at last. After taking a few moments to catch her breath, she became aware of the unnerving stillness that had settled around the room. Glancing around the chamber, she noticed everyone watching the steadied but hurried movements of Dr. Clarkson and the nurse and felt her blood turn to ice.
"What's wrong?" she asked, but received no answer. Turning her head, she looked up at Rosamund who was anxiously watching the events across the room unfold. "Rosamund?"
Rosamund looked down and shook her head in incomprehension. But her eyes were troubled and Cora felt her own begin to sting, her throat burning. It just couldn't be. Not after so much anticipation, pain, and laboring. It just could not be. Seconds that felt like hours ticked by and Cora slowly felt her heart begin to shatter piece by piece.
Hearing the tiniest whimper, Cora's heart lurched into the back of her throat. She held her breath, waiting, listening, and desperately praying. The whimper was followed by another and another and soon the room was filled with the healthy cries of a newborn baby. Cora began to sob then, large tears flooding down her face in relief.
With a fresh nightgown on her arm, O'Brien appeared at Cora's side, murmuring a quiet congratulations. Despite her tears, Cora's lips were stretched in to a beaming smile as she eagerly eased her way over to the edge of the mattress so O'Brien could help her change out of her soiled gown.
The process was done efficiently, but to Cora it felt agonizingly slow. She was desperate to hold her new baby in her arms and even a few seconds delay was too long. Finally back in bed and with clean bedding, Cora watched in anticipation, her arms already extending out, as the nurse strode over with a white bundle resting in her arms.
"Your son, milady," she stated unceremoniously.
Cora's eyes widened in disbelief, her arms frozen in mid air. "Son?" she asked, breathless.
"Yes, milady," she answered and placed the wriggling bundle into Cora's waiting arms.
"I have a son," Cora whispered to herself in wonderment. Giddy giggles began to bubble in her throat as she cuddled her baby closer to her chest and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "My darling baby boy."
Catching sight of someone approaching out of the corner of her eye, Cora looked up to see Violet smiling down at her, pride in her eyes.
"Well done, Cora," she murmured. She pressed a quick kiss to Cora's cheek and straightened again. "Very, very well done."
"Thank you, Mama," Cora replied, a bright smile breaking across her face.
"Congratulations, Cora," grinned Rosamund. She perched her hip on the edge of the mattress and stared down at the tiny bundle in Cora's arms. "Thank you for finally giving me a nephew."
Cora laughed softly, but said nothing, her attention absorbed by her baby. She watched enthralled as he squirmed and wriggled in her arms. Gently, she brushed the back of her pinkie across his cherub-like cheeks, delighting in the way his button nose crinkled at the sensation.
"I'm going to go down and put Robert out of his misery," stated Violet. "I'm sure he's worn a hole in the entire length of the library floor."
Cora shifted her eyes over to Violet and caught her gaze. "Mama," she said, "please don't tell him it's a boy. I want to be the one to tell him."
Violet nodded in agreement and, with a soft smile, left the room. Rosamund followed right behind her, no doubt in an attempt to keep Robert from charging into the room the second he heard that all was well.
"Before his lordship arrives," stated Clarkson, "I would advise giving the baby a feeding."
"If you'll give him to me, your ladyship," said the nurse, "I'll take him to the wet nurse."
Although it was a statement, it was said as a command. Glancing up at the nurse, Cora braced herself against the judgmental response she knew would be coming her way.
"We don't have a wet nurse," she answered. "I decided I want to wean my baby myself."
The nurse's brows flickered upward and her eyes hardened, as the corners of her mouth lowered into a stern frown. "In the interest of the baby's health—"
"What could be more healthy than his own mother's milk?" Cora volleyed back, her temper flared. Now that she wasn't in the throes of labor, she had little patience for the condescension of the nurse.
"Nurse," Clarkson cut in, "I have already advised Lady Grantham on the subject and it is on my recommendation that she nurse her child at first."
The nurse muttered something under her breath so low that despite Cora being right next to her, she couldn't understand what she said. With a palpable amount of reluctance and irritation, the nurse showed Cora how to feed her baby, making sure he was properly supported and latching correctly. Much to Cora's relief, the babe latched easily and was soon happily nursing.
Relaxing against the pillows, Cora breathed a content sigh, her fingers gently playing with the soft tufts of dark hair that covered his head. Her heart swelled and tears filled her eyes. Her little miracle. After so long since Sybil'd birth, she never thought she would have another child, never thought she would be able to give Robert the son they both so desperately wanted. She couldn't wait to tell him.
As if on cue, Robert suddenly burst into the room, his eyes anxious and body tense. His gaze immediately locked with hers and he sighed, "Oh, Cora."
"Milord," began O'Brien, "her ladyship's not quite—"
"He's alright," murmured Cora, her eyes fixated on Robert as he anxiously waited by the door. She had already finished nursing the baby and didn't want to be apart from him for another moment.
Seeming to understand, O'Brien ushered Dr. Clarkson and his nurse out of the room, leaving Cora and Robert alone with their new baby. As soon as the bedroom door clicked shut, Robert rushed to Cora's side and carefully lowered himself onto the edge of the mattress.
"Cora," he whispered. Leaning forward, he cupped her face and peppered her cheeks with kisses. "How do you feel? Are you alright?"
Nodding her head, Cora let out a small laugh. "I'm alright. We both are."
The plural pronoun visibly caught Robert's attention and he looked down at the infant sleeping peacefully in Cora's arms. With extreme care, Cora handed the baby to him, her heart swelling at the tender and gentle way he held their child.
"Meet your son, Robert," she said softly.
His gaze snapped up to meet hers. "Son?" he asked, a grin twisting at the corners of his mouth as his eyes gleamed. "We have a son?"
Rapidly nodding her head, Cora smiled brightly, the tears that had filled her eyes beginning to break free. "We have a son, Robert," she whispered in amazement.
"Oh my dearest one," he breathed. He leaned forward, their baby between them, and kissed her deeply, passionately. Hearing a tiny grunt of protest, they broke the kiss and returned their attention to the newest member of their family. "I can scarce believe it."
"I don't think I shall ever tire of hearing it," she murmured.
The tiny bundle in Robert's arms began to wriggle and mewl softly. Slowly, the baby boy blinked his eyes open, a little furrow appearing in his brow.
"Hello, little one," Robert said gently, holding the babe closer to himself. "You are a handsome one. You have your mama's expressive eyes."
"And your jawline and chestnut waves," Cora smiled.
"And your rosebud lips and button nose," grinned Robert.
"A perfect combination."
Squirming and waving his arms, the babe began to grunt and whimper. With a low chuckle, Robert pressed a kiss to his forehead and soothingly rocked him.
"Missing your mama already" he asked when the infant wouldn't be calmed. "I can't say that I blame you. I don't like being out of her arms either."
"Robert!" Cora scolded, a grin belying her tone. Extending her arms, she took the baby back and cradled him closely to her chest. "Don't scandalize our son."
With a smile, Robert slid off his shoes and discarded his jacket, carefully climbing onto the bed beside her. Shuffling over to her, he wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her shoulder, gazing down at their baby.
"I hardly think it shocking for our child to know how much I love you," he murmured. "To know how amazing you are. To know how proud I am that you are my wife."
"If I had known you would be so terribly sweet to me, I would have given you a son a long time ago," she quipped, relaxing against him.
Robert kissed the side of her head and nuzzled the crook of her neck. "I mean it, Cora. In all my life I never met anyone like you. And it is my dearest hope that our son turns out exactly like you."
Bursts of heat blossomed across her cheeks, but her gaze remained fixed on the slumbering infant in her arms. "Even my American traits?"
Tucking his hand under her chin, he turned her head so their eyes met. "Most especially your American traits."
"I'll remind you you said that the next time Mama complains about the way I do something," she laughed, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Please do," he chuckled, pressing his forehead to hers. "And I'll remind you of how terribly happy you have made me."