Lullaby by grey_gazania

Her child hadn’t even been born yet, and Ianneth was already tired. Her back ached. Her ankles were swollen. Simply walking up a flight of stairs was enough to leave her breathless and fatigued. And her nights brought no relief; her body and the baby seemed locked in a conspiracy to deny her any rest.

She shifted on the mattress, seeking a more comfortable position, but no matter how she lay, her back still hurt. Closing her eyes, she tried to ignore the pain, breathing deeply in the hopes of easing herself into sleep. But the baby chose that moment to begin a flurry of kicks, and she groaned.

Beside her, Fingon stirred. He blinked his bright eyes open and, rolling over to face her, asked, “What’s wrong?” His voice was still a little rough with sleep, but he was looking at her with concern.

“This baby is determined to stop me from sleeping,” Ianneth grumbled, shifting again as her back gave yet another twinge. “Every time I start to drift off, it kicks and wakes me up.”

Fingon pushed himself upright and then leaned over until his lips were an inch or two above Ianneth’s stomach. “You need to be nicer to your poor mother,” he said, so comically solemn that Ianneth couldn’t help smiling. “Is this any way to treat her after she’s given you such a warm, cozy home these past eleven months? Keep this up and she might decide to charge you rent.”

Ianneth laughed, and Fingon looked up at her, visibly struggling to maintain a straight face. “It’s never too early to start teaching proper manners,” he said.

“So you’ll bore the baby to sleep with an etiquette lecture?” Ianneth teased.

A grin like a sunbeam split Fingon’s face, and his eyes sparkled with amusement. “It’s worth a try,” he said, placing a hand on her stomach. Inside her, the baby continued to kick, and Fingon once again lowered his head towards Ianneth’s swollen belly. Softly, he began to sing.

Ianneth knew only a few words of her husband’s mother-tongue, not nearly enough to understand his song, but the tune was that of a lullaby, gentle and soothing. Slowly, the baby’s kicks abated, and Ianneth felt her own eyelids grow heavy. She was half-asleep by the time he reached the final verse, and she was only barely aware of his lips brushing across her temple.

“Sleep, Ianneth,” she heard him whisper.

She slept.

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