warnings: fluff, bit of angst, and Roboute being stressed new father also ooc?
Description: something so small, so fragile yet so loved by him
There was no guide on how to be a father.
And Roboute found himself slaving over the dataslates and ancient books about parenting and fatherhood, eager to learn on how to become a father just like his adopted father was. His child was born one month ago, healthy and strong, a bit big and heavy for a newborn but then again, his daughter was half – primarch.
He still vividly remembered how loud her first cries was, so full of life and strong, midwives and apothecaries let out whispered of awe and amazement as his firstborn continued to cry herself out.
One of the midwives, a woman with grey hair tied in bun, approached him, resting her calloused hand on his forearm. "Milord, it's time to cut the cord," She gave him such warm smile, patting him as if she was comforting him. "Your wife will be fine without your handheld support for a minute or two."
He heard you chuckled at the jest of the midwife even though he could hear clearly how exhausted you were. Roboute glanced at you, still concern of your wellbeing, after all you just gave birth after five hours long labours.
"I'm alright, Robby, the apothecaries are tending me," You limply raised the only hand that wasn't tethered with iv lines, shooing him off. "go and tend to our baby girl."
"ah, yes." Roboute gulped nervously before nodding.
"please, come this way, young father," The midwife ushered him toward the other two midwives, he noticed one was holding his wailing daughter in a white towel like cloth while the other held a surgical scissor in between of two clamps on the umbilical cord.
"Here you go, young father." The midwife stepped back and allowed him to step forward and took the surgical scissor. Hesitation and uncertainty filled him.
He watched his daughter's reddened and scrunched up face, still crying, her tiny limbs flailing about, still coated in blood and amniotic liquid. She was here now, after ten months long waiting.
"Hurry now, young father, your baby girl is waiting." The midwife tutted beside him.
Roboute snapped out of his musing, he swiftly cut his daughter's umbilical cord, giving back the scissor to the midwife. The two midwives surrounded his daughter once again, bringing her to the station table on the corner of the labour room.
Roboute stood there, stunned and still unsure if he was awake or just having an elaborate and realistic dream. The third midwife didn't follow her partners, still standing beside him as she gave him a blue blanket.
"you did good, young father. Most fathers would faint or vomit at the sight of their children covered in blood and their mother's fluids, but you are steadfast and strong. Good traits for a father of daughter."
"I don't think this is real. I must've still sleeping, this is a dream, my wife still pregnant and sleeping beside me." Roboute blurted out, shaking his head in disbelief and denial.
"No, this is real, young father, you can ask your wife and let her break your pinkie and ring fingers again if you want to." The midwife chuckled, glancing back toward your resting form being moved to another bed and gently wiped clean off sweat, blood and tears before being changed into another maternity dress.
Apothecaries and nurses loomed close around you, focusing on your wellbeing and health. Roboute was forever grateful of your quick thinking on deciding the medical team for your pregnancy, labour and newborn daughter.
"ah, here is the star of the show."
His daughter had stopped her wailing, now swaddled in clean blanket and was immediately placed upon the blue blanket he had in his hands.
Throne, these midwives worked fast for someone who were elderly.
Roboute observed his newborn daughter that he cradled in his own arms, drinking in every details of her into his very mind. She was so big on the hold of the midwives yet she looked so small in his own.
She had his hair and eyes, no, she was him. His firstborn was his spitting image, the only thing she inherited from you was your nose. You probably pout and annoyed that you had given birth to his mini version.
"How is our daughter, Robby? Is she healthy?" You asked.
He returned to your side, still cradling the baby close to his chest. "yes, she is very healthy. Good lungs, I think we won't be needing the baby monitors for her."
You rolled your eyes at his playful words, stretching out your hands toward him, eager to held the baby that once previously inside you for ten months. Which he did, carefully he transferred the baby into your arms.
He envy how easy and accustomed you were in holding the baby.
"Do you have name for her?" He inquired, returning to his place, beside you, on the chair precisely beside the bed.
You cooed softly at their daughter, shifting your dress to allow your newborn to fed from you. He watched her latched on your breast and immediately went on feeding herself.
Tiny thing probably hungry from being born. He smiled at the sight of you nursing the baby.
"hmm, I thought you want to name her, Robby?" You asked back, looking at him surprised and confused. "I mean you read these all books and dataslates about baby names. Not to mention I always found you slumped over the parenting books within the last two months--wait, don't tell me you are still stressed about not being a good father for our child?!"
After centuries of marriage, your intuition of him always correct. No matter how secretive and aloof he was, you would able to unfurl him wide open and bare.
He shook his head, grimacing a bit, "no, I am not stressed out, I just want to prepare for our daughter's arrival, that is all."
You gave him a deadpan look before you let out an exasperated sigh, plopping back into the piles of cushions and pillows, the baby gurgled a bit which prompted you to gently pat her back. "of course. Here, you held her now." You gave the baby back to him, your fingers caressed the plump and redden cheek of her affectionately.
Roboute softly said your name, "You don't want to held her anymore?" He watched you drowsily blinking as you let out a yawn, shaking your head once.
"I carry her for ten months and gave birth to her for five hours, I'm relinquishing my carrying the baby duty to you. Beside, Robby, you'll need more time to bond with your baby daughter."
And your words rang true, one month later, he still trying his best not to stressed out at thought of not being present for his newborn daughter, Therese.
With your pregnancy over and recuperation month began, Roboute took upon himself to be more attentive toward you, his beloved wife and the mother of his child, and toward his daughter.
Roboute carried his newborn everywhere and anywhere, be it him in his office, reading and writing reports, or during war meetings with his gene sons or Imperial meetings with high lords and nobles of planets.
Tiny Therese would be within the baby sling, her face mushed comfortably by the soft fabric and his chest. Whenever she gurgled or grumbled, Roboute would caressed her back and hummed softly lullabies that you often sang while nursing her.
He also placed a bassinet and changing table inside his office so he could let her sleep in her bassinet and changed her without had to returning to the shared bedroom.
Beside it was convenient for him to had the two furniture in his office, where he frequent the most. That and his and your shared bedroom. Therese didn't have nursery, Roboute didn't want to be separated by his daughter.
Her nursery was within his and your bedroom, her crib was merely six feet apart from the bed. He didn't feel well and queasy at the thought of Therese not being close by to him.
Within the two weeks of waking up to Roboute kneeling beside Therese's crib, intensely watching over her slumbering form, you joked about him being trying to be the favourite parent to their child.
Roboute wanted to gloat that he knew five ways to burp and help Therese released gasses, how he within one minute, had successfully prepared and sanitized the bottle and warm the milk for his baby daughter. How he could changed her diaper with one hand while he signed off reports, tax legislations and war reports.
But he know his overconfidence and pride in his child rearing would earn him your ire and scolding. Especially with how you often warn him that it was your turn to feed her during the late night hours or changing her diapers.
"Roboute Guilliman, I am here to take baby Therese to her monthly check-up." You announced yourself as you entered his office, making him looked away from Therese's sleeping face.
"hmm, check-up? I thought it's the day after tomorrow?"
You shook your head, casually walked toward the bassinet beside his desk, peering in over the bassinet. "no, it's today. You have important meeting with the Custodes in one hour and I don't want you to get stressed out over it so I'm here to take our bundle of grumpy joy for her check-up. It will be quick and you won't even notice her disappearance."
Roboute watched you lifted Therese from her bassinet and rocking her back and forth as he felt something akin to dread washed over him, how could he forgotten about his child's first check-up.
Was he too focused on taking care of Therese and being her father so much, that he began to forgot on how to maintain between his fatherhood duties and his duties as the Imperial Regent and Primarch of Ultramarine.
"Ah, I shall postpone the meeting for another hour or two. I want to attend Therese's check-up with you."
He watched you shook your head and rolled your eyes, "Robby, this meeting is very important, not to mention the Emperor himself has sent his Custodes to meet you and I know you are hyper focus in taking care of our baby girl here," You motioned to the sleeping babe in your arms, "but you have to avert your attention to other matter beside your newborn."
He let you cupped the side of his face, your thumb caressing his cheek, Roboute let himself relaxed and close his eyes, the warmth of your skin was intoxicating to him, it had been too long since you caressed him like this.
"So, let's make a deal, one meeting and tomorrow you can take Therese to meet the midwives, tell them about her progress. I heard madam Drusa has taken an interest in your fatherhood's progress, husband dearest."
Roboute opened his eyes, letting out a hum, "is that so, beloved wife?" He watched you smile cheekily as you peck his cheek. "yes, you impressed her greatly. I am so proud of you, Roboute. Therese is truly blessed to have you as her father."
Hearing such compliments coming from you, his wife, the love of his life, the one who was there for him before he became primarch, and now the mother of his little Therese made something inside of him felt clearer and warmer.
Like when he first met you and had fallen for you.
"No, my heart, it is I, who is blessed with you and little Therese. The two of you are my reason to lived for, I would gladly win any battles, wars and planets just to come home into your arms. You are my world, my heart and my future."
Roboute ended his speech by pulling you close to him, hugging you firmly and mindful of the sleeping baby between the two of you. He heard you giggle, "what a sap, I hope little Tessa doesn't mind having a sap for a father."
"Well, this sap here has successfully swoon your mother just by talking about bills and tithes reformations."
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𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 Warhammer 40k 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞
PRIMARCH (S)
ROBOUTE GUILLIMAN
HOUSE OF GUILLIMAN
Non linear stories of Roboute Guilliman with his wife and children; of marriage, of parenthood and of how he becomes more than the demigod he was depicted as.
Infant and Innocent - something so small, so fragile yet already loved by him
