anges | and i won't be the damndest bit fucking surprised.

and i won't be the damndest bit fucking surprised.

newt

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[ when the baby is born, lucielle doesn't name her right away. she tells herself not to grow too attached -- tells herself no, grantaire will die soon and they will have to leave their child here on earth. not alone, but without her real birth mother, without her father.

it annoys enjolras more than she can say. it makes her so angry she can't even voice it properly -- and she hasn't, not to anyone. her pregnancy was readily announced to the excitement of her fellow angels, but the second half of a prophecy jojen gave her light to, the death and return to heaven, the falling again and restart, that's been kept inside, away from the kids. not that any of them are truly kids any longer, but lucielle will always have a part of her that's dedicated to protecting the younger ones of the angel race -- her younger brother not excluded in such a sentiment.

but the baby's birth means that her days are numbered. lucy rarely cries but she finds that most of the time she can't help herself -- it's too awful, too unfair, and while she changes the course of history and destiny often enough, she knows it's only a matter of time before she and grantaire die in some other fight, in some other place. to revolt is too ingrained in her soul to ignore. to be someone else for the benefit of her child is something she's just not capable of.

child in hand, lucielle bounces her baby back and forth, back and forth on her hip. the little girl gives delighted little squeals and enjolras smiles -- another rarity -- though it's a double edged sword, the way she's happier than she's ever been, but she'll have to abandon all of it fairly soon.

she doesn't knock as she enters newt's room, patting her baby's back sweetly as she moves them in, telling herself that it has to be right now, that this can't wait another second. ]

Can I talk to you for a second, Newt?

[ the arrival of a baby in the garrison had been quite the event; from the moment newt found out his oldest sister was pregnant--an act they thought was impossible--he'd been downright ecstatic for her, fawning over her left and right and helping to keep her from doing her usual "get beaten up because of revolutionary proclamations" shtick in order to keep the baby safe. it was nine months of prenatal vitamins and grantaire's three am snack runs, and it had resulted in the most beautiful baby newt had ever seen. his niece. he cried the first time he held her, both for the joy of the family and his sister, but also because it was something he himself wanted so badly it was hard to really parse it. angels couldn't have families; doomed to immortality, their lifespans only could procreate when they were nearing their end.

so, newt had an idea of what enjolras was coming to talk to him about, but he kept it to himself, refused to imagine a life where his elder sister had gone back up to heaven and left him alone on this cold earth.

instead, he gets up almost immediately, setting aside the book he was reading and fixing lucielle with a smile before turning his attention to the still unnamed baby. ] Course you can, 'specially when you bring her with you. [ newt leans in a little and brushes her thumb against the baby's soft cheek, warmth and affection in his tone: ] Hullo, love. Can I?

[ and then, he jerks his head towards the bed. ] Go on, get off your feet. I bet she's keepin you up all night long.

[ as soon as the baby catches sight of newt, her wings start flapping lazily against her back, and enjolras has to hold onto her so she doesn't end up flying away. she loves newt, as everyone should. he has an air about him that seems nurturing, like he was made to care for others -- a natural born father, a healer, someone behind the scenes to make sure everything runs smoothly. enjolras is happy to be rid of her daughter -- handing her gently off to newt, who reaches to grab his shirt right away -- because every second enjolras spends with her is another second it grows harder to say goodbye. ]

There he is, there's uncle Newt. Yes. [ enjolras smiles brightly at how the baby smiles when newt takes her -- it'll work out, she tells herself. newt is the only person enjolras would ever trust her child with, he's the most qualified and the most mature, and he'll take care of her, he will, because that's exactly what newt's done for his older sister, ever since they've been given this life --

enjolras nods gratefully, moving to go plop down on newt's bed unceremoniously. her hand automatically rests on her stomach, though she's without child now, a little empty without the feeling of kicking feet hitting her stomach. it used to be a safety net. she knew grantaire wouldn't pass until after the baby was born, but not that she is born, time is running short. ]

Well, you know. Any child of mine and Grantaire's is obligated to be the loudest baby in the world. [ she winks, though it's far from a joke. ] She's an angel when she isn't crying, though.

[ that one was a joke, actually. ]

[ newt pretty much loves being "uncle newt"; he's been on babysitting duty since day one and loves every second he gets to spend with his niece, who is precious and perfect and as beautiful of a baby as any two people could make. she's going to be a heartbreaker and he knows it, knows she'll find her soulmate someday and be the happiest, most well raised child in the world. for all of their struggles, this little garrison of angels is one of the tightest knit families you could ask for, after all. and though she might never see her uncle, and her mom'd always be fighting wars, and her other uncle was sort of bloody miserable, this baby's presence was something they could all unite around.

so obviously, he's thrilled to take her from enjolras, and he lifts the baby and pulls her into the crook of his arm, tickling her stomach and then stroking the soft spot between her tiny, tiny wings gently, rocking her. he's not going to sit down with his sister now that he has the baby, but he does stand still, looking down at her with the kind of reverence most humans reserve for the angels themselves, and enjolras's comment makes him grin, chuckle quietly. ]

Yeah, no surprise. Bet she'll be yelling at all kinds of protests. Mama hasn't gotten you a "fuck the patriarchy" onesie, has she? [ ducking his head down into her tiny baby feathers, he crooks a smile to lucielle, affectionate and open and warm for his sister, like he always is. ] How're you feeling?

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and i won't be the damndest bit fucking surprised.

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