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Perspective

Summary:

Now that he has a child of his own, Essek views his relationship with his family from a different perspective.

[Originally written for Shadowgast week 2020, but didn't get finished in time.]

Notes:

1) You can read this fic as Essek is trans, or you can read it as they magically aquired a baby. Your choice!

2) Pregnant for 15 months: in one 3.5 d&d book, they said elvish pregnancies tended to last 2 years. Since human pregnancies last 9 months, I figured I'd split the difference for a baby half-elf

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Since her birth, Essek has been obsessed with their daughter.

 

It makes sense, in a way. Essek carried her for 15 months; of course he loves her with all of his heart. But his husband is not an affectionate person: it took Caleb literal months to even convince him that they should have a baby, and then it took even longer for them to figure out the logistics of it. One of Essek’s worries had been that he did not form emotional attachments easily; he worried that they would go through all of this effort and time and pain, and then he wouldn’t love the child.

 

Ha. Look at him now: any time the baby is awake, Essek is awake with her, holding her, cradling her, loving on her, constantly. 

 

Caleb doesn’t intend to eavesdrop, of course; he only got up because of the need to pee, but when he hears Essek chatting softly with the baby, he had to stop and listen, if only to tease his husband later when he was more awake.

 

“--you are so beautiful, of course, how could you not be? Look at you,” Essek coos, playing with their daughter’s red hair, twirling little red curls in his fingers. “I will say, though, that it’s very unfair of you to look so much like your father. I spent fifteen months carrying you, went through some severe body dysmorphia for you, got fat and ugly and cried all the time for you, and then you had the audacity to come out looking just like your Papa,” Essek presses kisses against her forehead though, and he’s smiling as the baby coos at him. “I don’t mind though. It means you are just extra pretty, because your Papa is so pretty.”

 

He’s not wrong; baby Una--named after Caleb’s mother--does look an extraordinary amount like Caleb, or more specifically, Caleb’s mother--hence the namesake.  But Caleb himself looks like his mother, and so it makes sense that his daughter--and he can’t get over that, he has a daughter --looks like him. She’s got bits of Essek mixed in--the point of her ears, Essek’s nose, the purplish color of her skin--but for the most part, she is Caleb all over.

 

“I love you so much,” Essek says, his voice full of awe and admiration. “I do. I cannot believe how much I love you, my baby. I would die for you. I would kill for you. I would do a great number of immoral things, things I swore to never do again, if it meant keeping you happy and safe.” He nuzzles their baby, resting his forehead against Una’s. Una just babbles at him happily, her tiny little hands opening and closing in awe.

 

Caleb should go back to sleep; he needs to, and he will be incredibly tired in the morning if he doesn’t. But he loves these two people more than anything in the world, and so he leans against the doorway and watches them interact.

 

Five minutes, he tells himself. He can spare five minutes, watching his husband cuddle their baby. 

 

“I didn’t know I would love you,” Essek whispers, and the confession surprises Caleb a little bit. “I really didn’t. There were times, when you made me so sick that I hated you a little bit, or rather hated your Papa for making me so ill. But you are so worth it, my lotha’orb. And I love you so much. It makes me feel physical ill to think of you coming unto any harm, and I just--”

 

Essek sighs, and pulls the baby closer to him.

 

“I do not love easily, lotha’orb. It’s one of my flaws. Honestly, I would say it took me a hundred and twenty years to even feel love at all, and you can blame your papa and all your aunts and uncles for that, too. Can you blame me for worrying? I thought I might be incapable of loving you, and I didn’t want you to come into the world unwanted and unloved, and I just--”

 

Essek is crying, Caleb realizes, and it startles him enough to walk into the room, gently, as to not startle his husband.

 

“You are so beautiful --you are a part of me, you came out of me, and I cannot imagine ever not loving you and I just--”

 

He sets Una down gently in her crib, and when Caleb puts his hand on Essek’s shoulder he isn’t surprised by it. “Essek…?”

 

“How could she not love me?” Essek sobs, turning his head towards Caleb. “How could my own mother not care about me?”

 

Now it is Caleb who feels startled. “Essek --”

 

“I always thought,” Essek wipes his eyes. “That my mother and I were just alike, that we were both just too... intelligent to be emotionally connected to anything, but now? I have this baby, who I love more than anything in the whole goddamn world, who I would do literally anything for, and I just don’t understand it. How could she? No, how dare she? She just gave up on me.” He lets Caleb wrap his arms around him, pulling him close and holding tight. “I cannot imagine Una leaving the country without wanting to follow. I can’t imagine her building a different life, and me not being a part of it. I can’t imagine her getting married without me. I can’t imagine Una having a child of her own, and me not being there. ” He shakes his head. "She's never even met Una! She doesn't even know she exists, and I thought it wouldn't hurt but it does. Not for me," Essek explains, shaking his head. "But for her."

 

They are both quiet for a moment, with Caleb just letting Essek cry, until it seems like Essek has calmed down enough, his breathing gentle and low.

 

“I can’t imagine that either,” Caleb confesses, kissing Essek’s forehead before letting him go. He leans over and picks Una up out of her crib, where she giggles and coos at the attention. “I--I hate that my own parents will never know her, but at least that is something beyond our control. For your family, though--”

There is no excuse. None whatsoever. 

 

“I always knew my family was terrible, but I guess it took becoming a parent myself to realize,” he leans over into Caleb’s arms and kisses Una on the cheek. “That they never really loved me to begin with. If they did, they would have done something-- anything -- to try and keep me.” He looks up at Caleb suddenly. “I’m so sorry; you are supposed to be asleep right now, and instead you are keeping me company as I have an emotional breakdown.”

 

“It’s fine,” Caleb laughs, bouncing Una a little bit. “It’s my own fault. I was on my way back to bed and I couldn’t help but overhear you talking to our little brotchen, and got nosey.”

 

“Well, she is a good listener,” Essek says, brushing the hair out of Una’s face. “She gets to hear all my secrets.”

 

“Oh? Are you keeping secrets now?”

 

“Always,” Essek coos in a baby-tone, wiggling his nose against Una’s. “Secrets like ‘what should we get Papa for his birthday?’ or ‘I wonder when Auntie Beau is going to propose to Auntie Jester?’ ” Essek takes Una from him, peppering her with kisses. “She has all the best ideas.”

 

Caleb laughs. “I think she just likes the sound of your voice.”

 

“Maybe,” Essek admits, cuddling her. “She doesn’t really like it when I’m quiet, though. She gets fussy when I’m quiet, so I end up just talking to her,” he chuckles lightly. “Last week I started reading off parts of my spellbook to her. She's going to know how to cast magic missile before she's three.”

 

“You know, some parents tell stories, or sing songs.”

 

“Yes, well,” Essek grins, bouncing their baby lightly. “If we don’t encourage her academic pursuits now , who knows what she’ll end up becoming in the future. I’m just thinking of her education.”

 

Unable to help himself, Caleb leans over and kisses his husband. There is not much they can do about Essek’s family, or Caleb’s, even. But they can love Una with all their hearts, and perhaps that will be enough for them.

Notes:

Lotha’orb: little spider
Brotchen: bread roll

What you mean you don’t call your baby a spider or a bread roll? Get out of here.