Of Comfort and Quiet

rawkfemme:

She sits in a grey chair.
It’s so alike in color to her chair on the bridge of Voyager, where they
would lean in towards each other in close conference.  Thousands of words were spoken over those
grey chairs, but those words hold no comparison to the quiet that she now sits
in.  

This chair is plusher, and it rocks lightly as she taps her
foot on the floor.  The wings rising out
from the sides give her a soft place to rest her head. The shadow cast on the
wall of the darkened by the small nightlight dances and weaves as Kathryn hums
a quiet melody.  Chakotay thought that he’s
never seen anything more elegant in his life.

She’s spent many hours seated here. It’s in a way the
command chair of their home, but Chakotay sees it as her throne. Here she is
more regal, more beautiful, and more graceful than at any other time in the years that he’s
known her. Here, where she sits with an oversized pillow across her lap, and a tiny
head of downy black locks at her breast.

Their daughter gives a sleepy sigh and pulls her head away
from her mother, her tiny hand patting Kathryn’s breast. Chakotay rises from
where he sat at the foot of their bed and gently lifts the tiny Kessa from her
mother’s arms. Wiping an errant dribble from Kessa’s chin, he places the infant
in her bassinette. He has to pause before turning away. He has to look at her
and remind himself that someday she’ll be grown and that these are the days that he’ll
want to remember.

Next to their daughter, sleeps their son. Chakotay lifts
Caylem gently as the baby greets him with smiling warmth. Turning back to his
wife, he sees that she is ready. She’s rearranged the robe that she’s wearing
and takes their son in the opposite arm that held their daughter.  Caylem roots gently at her breast to find
what he’s looking for. When he does, his whole little body gives a wiggle of
celebration.  As he latches on, Kathryn
lets her head rest against the wing of the chair. Her fingers graze lightly
over his perfect pink cheek, his tiny ear, his soft brown hair.

Chakotay goes back to his spot at the foot of the bed and
waits for his wife and son to finish. He’ll put Caylem in his bed, and then
bring his wife to theirs. But for now, as for so many hours, over so many nights,
over so many weeks, she’ll sit in a plush grey chair, rocking slowly, humming
lightly, deserving a crown.

For @cheile who requested babyfic/a follow up to Overcome when I asked for fluffy prompts. 

Oh wow, this is so….wow.

How can you describe such a simple, tiny moment so wonderfully and with such overwhelming love?

I adore this without bounds.

from Tumblr http://ift.tt/2r0SoPc

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