Post by greenie on Dec 15, 2009 22:56:23 GMT 10
Title: Bad Dream
Rating: PG
Prompt: Love
Summary: Little Goodwin has a nightmare.
Notes: I've gone and added pictures by Little into all of the previous Little Goodwin stories I wrote. It was lots of fun. So if you're bored, go and have a look.
Clary sat up in bed, hearing Little’s wails coming from the next room. “Tom?” She shook his shoulder, but his snores continued. “Tom!” The snores stopped, so she said “She’s crying and calling out for us.” She felt him rubbing at his eyes before he sat up too.
“Why wake me up?” he asked.
Clary rolled her eyes in the darkness. “The matches are on your side of the bed at the moment, you great looby.” She had to remember to get some more the next time she was at the markets.
“Oh.” She heard him fumbling around before the match struck and he lit the candle.
She’d had to wake him rather than risk breaking an ankle on something in the darkness, but she felt bad about it now. “I’ll go,” she offered, reaching for the candle.
“It’s fine,” he insisted. “You stay here and rest, you must be exhausted after watch.” Clary kissed him on the cheek and he grinned at her and climbed out of bed as she snuggled back under the covers.
It wasn’t long before Tom was coming back into the room, with one arm around Little. Both of her arms were clinging around his neck, looking as though she was half suffocating him. He came over to the bed and put the candle down carefully before trying to get the crying child off him. “You’ve got to let go so we can both climb into bed,” he told her, smiling slightly. “Otherwise we have to stand here all night.”
Clary gave a soft snort of amusement. “Come to Mama.” The next thing she knew, there was a small, trembling, sobbing bundle of four-year-old clinging to her and burying her wet face into Clary’s chest.
“She had a bad dream,” explained Tom. This actually appeared to have been a real bad dream, not the sort of bad dream where Little turned up in their bedroom by herself looking unworried but announcing she had a bad dream and wanted to sleep in their bed.
“Everything’s alright,” Clary told her, and stroked her hair to soothe her. Tom climbed into bed too, leaving the candle lit for a while. He cuddled up against Little’s other side.
“It’s not alright,” mumbled Little. “Uncle Matty said he didn’t love me anymore and then he ate Da and then he ate Mama.”
“That can’t be right,” said Clary. “We’re both still here.”
“But I saw him,” said Little.
Tom chuckled “I’m bigger than Uncle Matty, and your mama’s too scary.”
Clary rolled her eyes at him over their daughter’s head, but Little giggled a bit before sniffling again. “Mama would make him stop,” said Little, sounding more certain of herself. “And Da’s tummy is too big to fit in Uncle Matty.”
Tom looked affronted, and Clary grinned and stuck her tongue out at him. He put a look of absolute terror on his face and she rolled her eyes again, although she was smiling at the same time. Little, having no idea that anything was going on above her, snuggled into Clary even more, her sobs having finally subsided.
Clary tried not to think about what the front of her nightdress would be like. “It was just a bad dream,” she reassured her. “Uncle Mattes loves you very much.”
“He does?” asked a small voice.
“Of course he does,” added Tom. “We both love you very much too.”
“Really?”
“Of course,” said Clary.
“What about Beka?”
“She loves you too.”
“And Aunty Sabine?”
“Her too.”
“And Achoo?”
“Yes.”
“And Pounce?”
“And Pounce too, and Uncle Jewel and Aunty Osgyth and Aunty Mya and Uncle Nestor and everybody else you could possibly think of.”
“Everybody?”
“Everybody,” confirmed Tom.
“Even the bad people?”
Tom grinned at Clary and raised his eyebrows. “Maybe not the bad people,” Clary told her. “But you wouldn’t want them to love you anyway, would you?”
Little shook her head emphatically. “No, because they’re bad.” She wriggled until she was comfortable. “I love everybody too,” she announced. “Except for the bad people.”
Clary grinned. “That’s my good gixie,” she said, and stroked Little’s hair. “How about another goodnight kiss for Mama and Da?”
There was no reply, so Tom leaned over to have a look. “She’s fast asleep,” he whispered. A playful gleam came into his blue eyes. “I can supply your goodnight kiss though,” he told her, and did just that. Careful not to wake Little, he blew out the candle, and in no time at all, all three of them were fast asleep.
Now let me know which side of the bed you pictured Clary and Tom on (before you saw the picture). It's completely pointless, but I'm inexplicably intrigued by it.
Rating: PG
Prompt: Love
Summary: Little Goodwin has a nightmare.
Notes: I've gone and added pictures by Little into all of the previous Little Goodwin stories I wrote. It was lots of fun. So if you're bored, go and have a look.
Clary sat up in bed, hearing Little’s wails coming from the next room. “Tom?” She shook his shoulder, but his snores continued. “Tom!” The snores stopped, so she said “She’s crying and calling out for us.” She felt him rubbing at his eyes before he sat up too.
“Why wake me up?” he asked.
Clary rolled her eyes in the darkness. “The matches are on your side of the bed at the moment, you great looby.” She had to remember to get some more the next time she was at the markets.
“Oh.” She heard him fumbling around before the match struck and he lit the candle.
She’d had to wake him rather than risk breaking an ankle on something in the darkness, but she felt bad about it now. “I’ll go,” she offered, reaching for the candle.
“It’s fine,” he insisted. “You stay here and rest, you must be exhausted after watch.” Clary kissed him on the cheek and he grinned at her and climbed out of bed as she snuggled back under the covers.
It wasn’t long before Tom was coming back into the room, with one arm around Little. Both of her arms were clinging around his neck, looking as though she was half suffocating him. He came over to the bed and put the candle down carefully before trying to get the crying child off him. “You’ve got to let go so we can both climb into bed,” he told her, smiling slightly. “Otherwise we have to stand here all night.”
Clary gave a soft snort of amusement. “Come to Mama.” The next thing she knew, there was a small, trembling, sobbing bundle of four-year-old clinging to her and burying her wet face into Clary’s chest.
“She had a bad dream,” explained Tom. This actually appeared to have been a real bad dream, not the sort of bad dream where Little turned up in their bedroom by herself looking unworried but announcing she had a bad dream and wanted to sleep in their bed.
“Everything’s alright,” Clary told her, and stroked her hair to soothe her. Tom climbed into bed too, leaving the candle lit for a while. He cuddled up against Little’s other side.
“It’s not alright,” mumbled Little. “Uncle Matty said he didn’t love me anymore and then he ate Da and then he ate Mama.”
“That can’t be right,” said Clary. “We’re both still here.”
“But I saw him,” said Little.
Tom chuckled “I’m bigger than Uncle Matty, and your mama’s too scary.”
Clary rolled her eyes at him over their daughter’s head, but Little giggled a bit before sniffling again. “Mama would make him stop,” said Little, sounding more certain of herself. “And Da’s tummy is too big to fit in Uncle Matty.”
Tom looked affronted, and Clary grinned and stuck her tongue out at him. He put a look of absolute terror on his face and she rolled her eyes again, although she was smiling at the same time. Little, having no idea that anything was going on above her, snuggled into Clary even more, her sobs having finally subsided.
Clary tried not to think about what the front of her nightdress would be like. “It was just a bad dream,” she reassured her. “Uncle Mattes loves you very much.”
“He does?” asked a small voice.
“Of course he does,” added Tom. “We both love you very much too.”
“Really?”
“Of course,” said Clary.
“What about Beka?”
“She loves you too.”
“And Aunty Sabine?”
“Her too.”
“And Achoo?”
“Yes.”
“And Pounce?”
“And Pounce too, and Uncle Jewel and Aunty Osgyth and Aunty Mya and Uncle Nestor and everybody else you could possibly think of.”
“Everybody?”
“Everybody,” confirmed Tom.
“Even the bad people?”
Tom grinned at Clary and raised his eyebrows. “Maybe not the bad people,” Clary told her. “But you wouldn’t want them to love you anyway, would you?”
Little shook her head emphatically. “No, because they’re bad.” She wriggled until she was comfortable. “I love everybody too,” she announced. “Except for the bad people.”
Clary grinned. “That’s my good gixie,” she said, and stroked Little’s hair. “How about another goodnight kiss for Mama and Da?”
There was no reply, so Tom leaned over to have a look. “She’s fast asleep,” he whispered. A playful gleam came into his blue eyes. “I can supply your goodnight kiss though,” he told her, and did just that. Careful not to wake Little, he blew out the candle, and in no time at all, all three of them were fast asleep.
Now let me know which side of the bed you pictured Clary and Tom on (before you saw the picture). It's completely pointless, but I'm inexplicably intrigued by it.