Moira/Rachel
Sep. 1st, 2005 12:19 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsJust a short mother-daughter...er, grandmother?...piece when Rachel can't sleep and Moira's trying to calm her down.
Moira had the entire floor of the nursery mapped out in her mind. She knew exactly how many steps it took to get from the door to the crib. From the crib to the changing table. From the changing table to the rocking chair and from the rocking chair to the crib.
In fact, she was doing the circulation now, with a wailing Rachel being rocked in her arms. Despite the shielding, her daughter was still _loud_.
Giving her an amused, if tired and harried look, Moira clucked, "Me Da always warned me I'd 'ave one jus' like me," she murmured softly with a smile.
"WAAAAAH! WAH!" Rachel wriggled and flailed as only fairly new babies could do.
Nothing was helping. She'd been changed, fed, burped and walked. And wouldn't stop.
Rachel gave a hiccuping wail and then started up again. It seemed as...as if she knew once she stopped, she'd be put down again.
Walking over to the rocking chair, Moira settled herself down, wrapping herself and her daughter in the thick blanket her cousin had sent with the Kinross colors. Her mother had always sung to her when she couldn't sleep, when she was a baby and then when she was older. Moira couldn't sing a lick herself but...
Closing her eyes, rocking back and forth gently, she reached into her deepest memories. She'd done this once with Nathan, projected her memory of her mother singing. Gently, she pushed it towards her daughter.
Rachel paused suddenly in mid-wail as a gentle voice murmured from the 'voice' she was used to.
Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,
Go to sleepy little baby.
When you wake, you'll have cake,
And all the pretty little horses.
Black and bay, dapple and grey,
Coach and six little horses,
Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,
Go to sleepy little baby.
Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,
Go to sleepy little baby,
When you wake, you'll have cake,
And all the pretty little horses.
Way down yonder, down in the meadow,
There's a poor wee little lamby.
The bees and the butterflies pickin' at its eyes,
The poor wee thing cried for her mammy.
Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,
Go to sleepy little baby.
When you wake, you'll have cake,
And all the pretty little horses.
Opening her eyes, Moira gazed down as Rachel gave a little baby yawn. There was no crying when she was done, but that didn't mean she had to return her to her crib just yet. Bringing her up, Moira nuzzled against her for a second, feeling the warmth of the skin beneath her own cheek.
"I love ye, Sunshine."
Moira had the entire floor of the nursery mapped out in her mind. She knew exactly how many steps it took to get from the door to the crib. From the crib to the changing table. From the changing table to the rocking chair and from the rocking chair to the crib.
In fact, she was doing the circulation now, with a wailing Rachel being rocked in her arms. Despite the shielding, her daughter was still _loud_.
Giving her an amused, if tired and harried look, Moira clucked, "Me Da always warned me I'd 'ave one jus' like me," she murmured softly with a smile.
"WAAAAAH! WAH!" Rachel wriggled and flailed as only fairly new babies could do.
Nothing was helping. She'd been changed, fed, burped and walked. And wouldn't stop.
Rachel gave a hiccuping wail and then started up again. It seemed as...as if she knew once she stopped, she'd be put down again.
Walking over to the rocking chair, Moira settled herself down, wrapping herself and her daughter in the thick blanket her cousin had sent with the Kinross colors. Her mother had always sung to her when she couldn't sleep, when she was a baby and then when she was older. Moira couldn't sing a lick herself but...
Closing her eyes, rocking back and forth gently, she reached into her deepest memories. She'd done this once with Nathan, projected her memory of her mother singing. Gently, she pushed it towards her daughter.
Rachel paused suddenly in mid-wail as a gentle voice murmured from the 'voice' she was used to.
Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,
Go to sleepy little baby.
When you wake, you'll have cake,
And all the pretty little horses.
Black and bay, dapple and grey,
Coach and six little horses,
Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,
Go to sleepy little baby.
Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,
Go to sleepy little baby,
When you wake, you'll have cake,
And all the pretty little horses.
Way down yonder, down in the meadow,
There's a poor wee little lamby.
The bees and the butterflies pickin' at its eyes,
The poor wee thing cried for her mammy.
Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,
Go to sleepy little baby.
When you wake, you'll have cake,
And all the pretty little horses.
Opening her eyes, Moira gazed down as Rachel gave a little baby yawn. There was no crying when she was done, but that didn't mean she had to return her to her crib just yet. Bringing her up, Moira nuzzled against her for a second, feeling the warmth of the skin beneath her own cheek.
"I love ye, Sunshine."
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