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ria_oaksWrote a short vignette from Jecht's POV at Tidus's birth. No spoilers that I can see. Some assumptions made about Jecht's childhood, as I was musing over what compels his fear of showing his emotions and weakness so much. Comments would be very much appreciated. Pwease? :P I like it; some of it I think needs some work, but overall I like it well enough. I just had this adorable image earlier of Jecht with his wife and newly-born son and him trying to figure out his feelings, and I had to write it. Also have adorable image of same scene with Jecht touching Tidus's little hand and... awww, I need to draw. :P Soo cute.
Jecht paced impatiently in the hallway, glancing constantly at the door to the delivery room. The doctor had thrown him out over an hour ago after he had grabbed one of the nurses by the collar and demanded that they give his wife something for the pain. Despite patient explanations that they couldn’t do anything that would interfere with the natural process of the birth, he had continued to loudly threaten the nurses, doctor, and anyone else in the vicinity until the doctor had had no choice but to tell him to wait in the hall until the delivery was complete.
So here he was now, retracing his steps over and over again as he tried to ignore his wife’s cries and tried not to think too hard about the fact that he was about to be a father. Even with the past nine months to contemplate this fact, he wasn’t sure that he was able yet to fully comprehend it. Damned if he knew anything about rearing a child, but there it was, and he would have to do what he could.
He grimaced at a particularly loud groan, then froze as another sound was added to the mix - the unmistakable sound of a baby crying. A few minutes later, one of the nurses - fortunately not the one he’d almost assaulted - poked her head out of the door.
"Congratulations, you’re the proud father of a baby boy." She smiled at him, having evidently forgiven his earlier performance. "You can come in now and see your wife and son, if you’d like."
Jecht swallowed and followed her into the room. His wife was seated up in bed now, her hair plastered to her forehead and her face flushed from exertion. She was holding a small bundle of cloths to her breast, and she looked up at him as he came in. The thought rose unbidden in him that she had never looked so beautiful. A tentative smile crept across his face and he walked to the side of the bed.
She smiled up at him, a look of joy and wonder in his face. "Look, Jecht. It’s our son." She held up the tiny bundle and he stared into the face of the sleeping baby hidden within. Conflicting emotions rose within him. Fear, uncertainty, and the beginnings of something else, something more powerful than he had ever felt in his life.
"He’s so... small," was all he could offer. He looked so tiny, so fragile, that Jecht was afraid to even touch him. He reached out tentatively and laid a callused hand over his son’s balled fist. What was he doing with something so delicate, so small? He was no good at this kind of thing. Give him a blitzball; that he could handle. But this, what was he supposed to do with this? He felt that just touching his hand would break him. This was his son. He was a father. Abruptly he pulled his hand away from his son’s and stuck it in his pocket. God, he needed a drink.
His wife’s gentle voice broke into his reverie. "What should we name him?"
Jecht tried to clear his mind and remember what they’d discussed before about names. They had talked a bit, thrown out some possibilities they both liked, but in the end had decided to wait and see him or her before making the final decision. Now, looking at his son, Jecht had no idea what to call him. He had thought that maybe seeing him would give him a clue, inspire him somehow to think of a suitable name, but any ideas he may have had were escaping him now.
"I, uh... He tried to force himself to think of something.
"I like... Tidus." His wife announced, smiling down at the baby clasped to her chest.
"Tidus? Sounds kinda... girly." Jecht made a face.
His wife gave a small laugh. "It doesn’t at all, Jecht. I think it suits him."
Well, it seemed that he would have no say in this anyway. His wife had that look on her face that said that she’d made up her mind and nothing he could say or do could change it.
"Tidus, huh... I dunno, I still don’t think it sounds manly enough. If our son’s going to be strong, he’s going to need a better name than that." He tried one last effort to change his wife’s mind. Tidus just sounded too... weak. He didn’t want his son to be weak. He didn’t want him to go through the things he had gone through as a child, before he had toughened up and learned to ignore the taunts of the other boys. He wanted his son to be able to stand his own ground, like he wished he had been able to as a boy.
"I like Tidus," his wife repeated, and Jecht knew there was no way to change her mind. He supposed he would just have to do his best to toughen the kid up, make sure he was strong and not some kinda crybaby. And right now he didn’t feel much up to arguing with his wife, anyway.
"Tidus it is, then," he agreed grudgingly. His wife smiled at him and he looked back down into the sleeping face of his son. A slow smile spread across his face. Maybe he could do this after all.
Tidus...
Hm.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
bronzejarith, you told me awhile back that to keep the quotations when I copied and pasted to turn off "smart quotes". I went into Word and fiddled a bit, turning off things that said "smart", but I couldn't get it to copy/paste properly... V. annoying.
Also, will post up piccy of Braska probably tomorrow. Turned out quite well, I think, despite the questionable inking... O.o
Jecht paced impatiently in the hallway, glancing constantly at the door to the delivery room. The doctor had thrown him out over an hour ago after he had grabbed one of the nurses by the collar and demanded that they give his wife something for the pain. Despite patient explanations that they couldn’t do anything that would interfere with the natural process of the birth, he had continued to loudly threaten the nurses, doctor, and anyone else in the vicinity until the doctor had had no choice but to tell him to wait in the hall until the delivery was complete.
So here he was now, retracing his steps over and over again as he tried to ignore his wife’s cries and tried not to think too hard about the fact that he was about to be a father. Even with the past nine months to contemplate this fact, he wasn’t sure that he was able yet to fully comprehend it. Damned if he knew anything about rearing a child, but there it was, and he would have to do what he could.
He grimaced at a particularly loud groan, then froze as another sound was added to the mix - the unmistakable sound of a baby crying. A few minutes later, one of the nurses - fortunately not the one he’d almost assaulted - poked her head out of the door.
"Congratulations, you’re the proud father of a baby boy." She smiled at him, having evidently forgiven his earlier performance. "You can come in now and see your wife and son, if you’d like."
Jecht swallowed and followed her into the room. His wife was seated up in bed now, her hair plastered to her forehead and her face flushed from exertion. She was holding a small bundle of cloths to her breast, and she looked up at him as he came in. The thought rose unbidden in him that she had never looked so beautiful. A tentative smile crept across his face and he walked to the side of the bed.
She smiled up at him, a look of joy and wonder in his face. "Look, Jecht. It’s our son." She held up the tiny bundle and he stared into the face of the sleeping baby hidden within. Conflicting emotions rose within him. Fear, uncertainty, and the beginnings of something else, something more powerful than he had ever felt in his life.
"He’s so... small," was all he could offer. He looked so tiny, so fragile, that Jecht was afraid to even touch him. He reached out tentatively and laid a callused hand over his son’s balled fist. What was he doing with something so delicate, so small? He was no good at this kind of thing. Give him a blitzball; that he could handle. But this, what was he supposed to do with this? He felt that just touching his hand would break him. This was his son. He was a father. Abruptly he pulled his hand away from his son’s and stuck it in his pocket. God, he needed a drink.
His wife’s gentle voice broke into his reverie. "What should we name him?"
Jecht tried to clear his mind and remember what they’d discussed before about names. They had talked a bit, thrown out some possibilities they both liked, but in the end had decided to wait and see him or her before making the final decision. Now, looking at his son, Jecht had no idea what to call him. He had thought that maybe seeing him would give him a clue, inspire him somehow to think of a suitable name, but any ideas he may have had were escaping him now.
"I, uh... He tried to force himself to think of something.
"I like... Tidus." His wife announced, smiling down at the baby clasped to her chest.
"Tidus? Sounds kinda... girly." Jecht made a face.
His wife gave a small laugh. "It doesn’t at all, Jecht. I think it suits him."
Well, it seemed that he would have no say in this anyway. His wife had that look on her face that said that she’d made up her mind and nothing he could say or do could change it.
"Tidus, huh... I dunno, I still don’t think it sounds manly enough. If our son’s going to be strong, he’s going to need a better name than that." He tried one last effort to change his wife’s mind. Tidus just sounded too... weak. He didn’t want his son to be weak. He didn’t want him to go through the things he had gone through as a child, before he had toughened up and learned to ignore the taunts of the other boys. He wanted his son to be able to stand his own ground, like he wished he had been able to as a boy.
"I like Tidus," his wife repeated, and Jecht knew there was no way to change her mind. He supposed he would just have to do his best to toughen the kid up, make sure he was strong and not some kinda crybaby. And right now he didn’t feel much up to arguing with his wife, anyway.
"Tidus it is, then," he agreed grudgingly. His wife smiled at him and he looked back down into the sleeping face of his son. A slow smile spread across his face. Maybe he could do this after all.
Tidus...
Hm.
bronzejarith, you told me awhile back that to keep the quotations when I copied and pasted to turn off "smart quotes". I went into Word and fiddled a bit, turning off things that said "smart", but I couldn't get it to copy/paste properly... V. annoying.Also, will post up piccy of Braska probably tomorrow. Turned out quite well, I think, despite the questionable inking... O.o
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-02-15 12:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-02-15 12:37 am (UTC)Did you read ficcy? ^^;;
no subject
Date: 2004-02-15 12:39 am (UTC)Re:
Date: 2004-02-15 12:41 am (UTC)Re:
Date: 2004-02-15 12:42 am (UTC)*drowning*
Date: 2004-02-15 12:56 am (UTC)Re: *drowning*
Date: 2004-02-15 11:39 am (UTC)Anyway, thanks muchly for replying and for the feedback. ^_^