Lyra cried in the dark later that night.
She didn't cry loudly at first; Not the sharp, panicked wail Ivory had been bracing herself for — just a thin, broken sound, like something small realizing it was alone and that it needed someone else there.
Ivory was quickly alert and out of sleep immediately, her body reacting before her mind did. She often didn't sleep since Lyra was born due to her anxiety over something happening to her Ivory winced to the mild jolt of pain from the stitches as she removed the blanket and was met with a cold breeze.
"Don't," Blue gently grabbed her arm before she could swing her legs over the edge of the bed "There's a midwife. She handles the nights."
Ivory swallowed. The crying continued, though this time, it was louder and sharper.
"I want to see her," she said quickly.
In the dark room, Blue steadied his arm at her elbow as she rose, despite the lingering ache that reminded her she was still healing. Blue opened the adjacent door in their master bedroom and the couple's eyes had to adjust to the dim night light in the room.
There they saw the midwife holding Lyra and doing a slight dance to make Lyra feel comfortable. Lyra's tiny fists clenched uselessly in the air as she exhausted herself with her cries.
Ivory didn't think — she only reached for her daughter, and the midwife didn't stop her.
The moment Lyra was placed against her chest, something shifted.
The crying faltered and became softer. Lyra's small body recognized Ivory's arms and presence, and settled just enough for Ivory to feel the warmth of her daughter's body.
Ivory held her carefully, awkwardly, terrified of doing it wrong, yet unable to let go.
Blue watched from beside her and nodded to the midwife, who held her head down and left the room. Then, he gently took Lyra from Ivory's arms.
Lyra cried again immediately; though Blue didn't flinch. He adjusted his grip --- he cradled her close, as one large hand supporting her back.
"You recognize daddy, don't you?" he murmured.
Lyra's crying slowed — then stopped altogether. Her eyes opened wide and scanned the room, drifting past Blue's shoulder until they found Ivory. Lyra stared at her mother and smiled.
Blue had gone quiet again, his attention fixed on Lyra's face as though he were reading her. He catalogued every movement, facial expression, cry, and blink she made.
Blue adjusted Lyra and held her closely to his chest as he walked back into the master bedroom with her; he gently plopped onto the bed and laid against his pillows as he cradled his daughter in his arms.
Ivory joined him and found herself hovering over Blue's arm to see her daughter.
"Blue," Ivory said softly as she watched him.
He looked at her.
She hesitated as she tried searching for the right words. "I feel… something," she admitted. "I don't know how to explain it."
His brow lifted slightly, an invitation rather than a challenge.
"I've cared about people before," Ivory continued, voice quieter now. "I've protected myself. I've survived. But this—" She gestured faintly toward Lyra, her throat tightening. "This is different. I've never loved anyone like this. This love existed before her, before me, before us."
Blue studied her carefully.
Ivory reached out then, slow and reverent, and slipped her fingers into Lyra's tiny hand. Lyra's own contact was immediate --- her fingers curled and wrapped around Ivory's hand with surprising strength, Lyra anchored herself there, in her mother's small hand, as though she recognized it as home.
A soft sound escaped Ivory's chest.
Lyra's eyes fluttered, her grip tightening once before relaxing, and then she began to drift — lashes lowered, and her breathing evened out as she slept --- her fingers still clasped around her mother's.
Blue watched the exchange in silence.
"That bond," he said finally, voice low and measured, "is not accidental."
Ivory didn't look at him.
"I don't care what it's called," she replied. "I just know I would do anything for her."
For a moment, something unreadable passed through Blue's eyes --- then his eyes softened into reverence. Ivory knew that Blue respected her, she had realized this after he told her why he chose her; he had a rather strange way of showing it.
"Yes," he said quietly. "You would."
And Lyra still slept, fingers wrapped around her mother's hand.