Fic: Art of denial (Part 16/2)

[my_thestral]

Author's note: Same as 5 minutes ago, I hate this splitting, BTW
Pairing: Ron/Draco
Word count: 2303 (this part)
Rating: R? Erm...
Disclaimer: See one before

They lay in the bed panting, intertwined, body and soul, for long moments to come. Ron was playing with Draco’s hair the way he knew the blond adored, and Draco simply stretched by his side, along that wonderfully warm body and pushed his face in the crook of his neck. He felt sheltered and at peace, loved and strangely happy, as if what he wanted from life came down to this, to lying next to his lover, inhaling the scent of his silken hair. He loved this. He loved him. It was as simple as that.

Only when there was a quiet whimper from the next room, quickly transforming into a string of sobs, did Ron get up, dressed sloppily and showed up a few moments later with a baby in his arms, glowing with that special parental happiness and pride no one else could bestow upon him.

“She’s awake,” he informed him and then quickly: “Get decent, will you?! I can’t have my little girl staring at your bits!”

Draco mumbled something unintelligible, about his bits being very popular just a few moments ago but complied nevertheless and wrapped his bottom half into a blanket.

Then he looked at Ron questioningly and the redhead said matter-of-factly: “Well, what are you waiting for, make room! I’m bringing our little princess in!”

And Draco rolled off to the side of the bed, quickly performed a few cleaning charms and had a little girl deposited next to him. She seemed to have recognised him from up close, because she gurgled happily and her tiny hand went looking out for a piece of him. Draco offered his index finger and she grabbed it enthusiastically and squealed as if she found something priceless she was looking for, for ages. Draco couldn’t help himself on this strange tender night. Before he knew it he had leaned in and kissed the little one softly on her brow.

“You’re incredible,” he told her gently. “Such a little flirt. You’re dad’s going to have to shoot Unforgivables left and right to get you rid of the suitors when you come of age, you priceless little beauty. She’s your daughter through and through,” he looked at Ron, stretched on the other side of her, watching the exchange of affection with awe and astonishment. “She has your signature all over her.”

He couldn’t tell him more, not at the risk of betraying too much of himself, how very charming he found her, her innocence, her need for contact, her trust – she was all Ron in his eyes. But the redhead read it all and leaned over her to steal a kiss and that quiet understanding between them said more than a thousand words could.

“So,” the redhead said after he had settled back to his position at her side, “when will my daughter get a dashing little blondie to fall for?”

And Draco just sighed heavily and his head collapsed back onto the mattress. Trust it on Ron to bring up the very question he anticipated and feared, complete troll, this Weasley of his! It was the one question not many people dared ask just yet, it’s barely been a couple of months since they were wed, but it was silently present in his mother’s eyes every morning she greeted Astoria and her eyes looked for the slightest change in her figure – and then there was this awkward situation when Father tried to assess “how things were going between them” with a few poorly placed questions he probed him with. Draco knew he dared not push yet, but it was only a matter of time before he got bolder. It was just…

He tried, he had god honest tried, but ever since their wedding night the situation has been awkward between them and he could tell she was angry at him. She did not try to deny him access to his wedding bed - she was too smart to forget why she was married into this family - but it was not like he sought it actively. It just… felt too much like betrayal.

It was their bed, it was another’s image he saw when he forced himself to pay her a visit and sometimes he had to close his eyes to keep the illusion, to at least be able to go on with it. She was perfect, she was young, she was unspoilt, she was beautiful. It was not enough.

She was also… well, a “she”, she was too compliant and she was all curves and soft flesh when he yearned for hard muscle and the scent of… him. There was nothing wrong with her. She just wasn’t Ron Weasley. And that could not be fixed.

“I don’t know,” he admitted truthfully, staring at the pretty little girl playing with his finger. “I can’t seem to find the heart to do it. I just don’t know how… I… can’t. It’s all wrong and she hates me and she’s not…” he stopped and looked at Ron and the redhead knew.

His long arm came to rest on his cheek softly and caressed it most gently.

“But I want you to,” he said with unforgiving gentleness and looked him straight in the eye. “That’s why we went through all this – married the wrong people, decided to live a lie – so we can do this right, pay our dues to our families, be free at last. Give them what they want and you’ll be free of them. I… have it easy,” he admitted. “My wife is one of my best friends, she loves the life we have and if I have to keep lying to her to make her happy - then lie I will. And I want children, I want more than just this one… but every child I have, will also be a child of ours.”

And Draco only had to look at the little princess holding on tightly to a part of him, to know that Ron meant it and that he was right. But Ron’s finger slipped under his chin and he lifted his head to make sure he had his full undivided attention. And his brilliant blue eyes were suddenly full of pity and compassion.

“But you, my love, you were born with a much heavier cross of expectations you must carry to the end. So I thought about it, I thought about it lots and I figured out there just isn’t any other way to get that cross off your back. What does your father want most of all? You know the answer to this as well as I do: the Malfoy line to continue with a rightful heir. So I reckon - that’s what you need to give them. An heir.

He’s already expected just about as much as any child can be and he will be loved - not only by your family, your mother and father, but also by this man here. I would never forgive myself if someone so extraordinary as you wouldn’t give the world a piece of himself. You need to go out there and make a little Draco, you need to. I can’t wait to see one, to welcome him. Oh, you know as well as I do, it’ll be a boy, you lot don’t know how to have anything else!” he messed up his blond hair and smiled brilliantly, leaving him with a fluttering heart.

“And once the child is there, you’ll be as free as one Malfoy can hope to get. No one can ever tell you that you let the Malfoy family down. You will have done what was expected of you, nearly all of it. And you know – this part isn’t hard, it isn’t hard at all. You will love your child, I know you will. You will see yourself in him and you will love him because you’re a Malfoy and the Malfoys love their own – and because you’re you, Draco, and you have it in you. I, of all people, know you do,” he looked him deeply in the grey eyes and Draco shivered in the sudden recognition how well this man knew him, how close inside he had let him.

But the long fingers trod through his hair gently once more and the sensation filled him with such longing, he would have listened to the redhead saying anything, any damn thing, as long as he kept undoing him by the simple gesture of his fingers.

“You’ll love playing with him,” Ron said almost dreamily. “You’ll love teaching him, you’ll love holding him and just lying next to him and watching him sleep. And once you figure out that your child is your one chance to rectify all that went wrong with your upbringing, then you’ll love him for that as well. You can make sure you’ll never make your parents’ mistakes – I know I couldn’t wait for that chance. Not that my parents made many, mind you, they’re just about the England’s greatest parents – but I grew up with some wounds, perhaps with less than most do – and I can’t wait to heal them…”

And then his fingers stopped abruptly and the hand touched his cheek once more, the thumb making a tiny loving circle, before gently touching the corner of his mouth. And as Ron stared at him with those impossible splendid eyes, Draco would have said “yes” to his own doom in that moment; he would have, if his blue-eyed god asked it of him.

“So, please, please, Draco – try,” the redhead said softly, almost pleadingly, instead. “Make it happen. For your family, if you must, but also for yourself, for me, for us. You can’t imagine a more special moment than when they first put that tiny being… that person you made, your flesh and blood, in your hands. So much hope, so much opportunity, so bloody scary – but worth it all the way. I want to put your child between us once, and bless it with our love. Make it our child. I do, so help me god, I do. I will love your flesh and blood as if it was my own. Look how my little girl loves you! She can tell… she can tell how I feel about you and she accepts us… as us.

So do it, Draco, do whatever it takes. Merlin knows I’ll love you no less if you do. You’ll give purpose to our messed up lives and if there’s one way to give purpose to all the lies, all the hateful things we have to do every day to keep up more than one illusion – than this is it, this is what I choose. Your wife will forgive you once you give her a child, your parents won’t doubt you, not ever again. And you’ll always have the best part of you living by your side to love unconditionally, with no remorse, no shame, no hiding, no pretence. This feeling… I want to share that with you as well. Give us a chance, love, I promise you will not regret it.”

And in that moment the little girl gurgled happily and stuffed Draco’s finger into her mouth as if she wanted to say: “Well spoken, dad, I have nothing else to add.”

“Oh, Rosie… what am I ever going to do with you?” Ron sighed happily and the light and love from his eyes just poured onto her little figure. And Draco realized he had never heard her name before.

“Rose, huh?” he said and smiled at the little warrior princess attacking his finger with vigour. “Beautiful… ouch, Rosie, that’s no way to treat Uncle Draco… plenty of thorns as well, this one…  It suits her, it suits her just fine.”

“Yeah… “ Ron smiled proudly. “Hermione figured I should be the one to pick a name for our first-born… so I did. I haven’t told her yet, though. I needed to think it over. And it just came to me a moment ago. I’ve been calling her “princess” in my mind all this time, but when I looked at her a second ago, she just looked… well, like a Rose, really. Like my fiery bright Rose against the winter background,” he touched Draco’s chest softly, where one of the little hands was resting as if she was looking for his heartbeat and the blond looked him in the eye numb, helpless and unable to tell him how overwhelming he found them both.

“Besides,” Ron smiled a tiny embarrassed smile. “I’ve always had a soft spot for those flowery names… you know, like Lily, Harry’s mom… or Narcissa, like yours.”

And Draco stared at him, with his heart beating in his throat and suffocating all those words that needed to be said… about how incredible he found it that Ron found a way to link his daughter to his, Draco’s mother, almost as if he was trying to pass on a heritage… about how much he loved him for doing this, for sharing this precious gift with him, sharing his beautiful perfect daughter and their private time together… with him. He knew he couldn’t say those words, but his redheaded lover knew him a little too well and he read it on his face how very undone he had become. So he just leaned in, brought his face closer and kissed him softly. And then told him: “I love you. I wanted to give you this.”

And the blond kissed back with near despair, eager to tell him in his language, their language, how very thankful he was, how unforgettable he found this, those perfect moments that will never belong to anyone else.

“I will try,” he told him between two kisses and they both knew what he meant. “I will try in earnest.”

~ End of Part 16/2 ~

Next: Art of denial (16/3): All of it, for the family
See also:
Art of Denial (1): It's been 20 years...
Art of denial (2): First time
Art of denial (3): Some First time... some Second time...
Art of denial (4): Still second time... and time again...
Art of denial (5): Milestones
Art of denial (6): Of hearts and bonds
Art of denial (7): Cracked open and oozing true feelings
Art of denial (8): Unbreakable
Art of denial (9): To give some, to take some away
Art of denial (10): There to witness defeat
Art of denial (11/1): Nowhere without you
Art of denial (11/2): Magic of old
Art of denial (12): With this ring I thee wed
Art of denial (13/1): When everything hurts...
Art of denial (13/2): Small comforts
Art of denial (14): Give me more...
Art of denial (15/1): Not a chosen one
Art of denial (15/2): Come to me
Art of denial (16/1): Enters the little Princess