InsaneJournal

Who: Belle (with tiny Vlad the Impaler) and Open (!dice if wanted)
What: Finding food for Vlad
Where: Back kitchen
When: Sunday morning
Ratings/warnings: Extremely doubtful? Will update if necessary
Status: Open/ongoing



After the initial shock had worn off, Belle had taken to caring for Vlad much quicker than even she would have expected. But then again, it had been necessary. There were certainly going to be enough people dropping their unexpected charges off in the infirmary that adding to the load seemed downright ridiculous if there was any alternative. And even if he was the more knowledgeable of the two of them (and if her heartstrings twisted at the sight of the child, Belle was loathe to ask how his were holding up), it just wasn't fair to expect Rum to take on much what with his cane. Or at least that was what Belle had told herself yesterday as she'd pulled herself together in short order and took Vlad into her own arms.

She was trying not to think about how right that weight felt, or the way her heart kept jumping when he'd babble or pull at the front of her dress or some other incredibly mundane thing. And she was most definitely trying not to think about the possibility that woman, Glinda, had raised--that these children might stay.

No, right now she was trying only to think about getting breakfast for Vlad and possibly herself. He had a couple of teeth well in and (as the multiple bite marks she already sported proved) was fairly proficient in using them, so she didn't have to go asking for the formula people had been finding. Which actually left her fumbling a bit more, given that the babies she'd watched before had been so much younger and, she thought, a great deal simpler to manage. At the very least, they didn't weigh quite so much and weren't nearly as difficult to hold with one arm while the other went through the pantry.

Still, in spite of the awkwardness, Belle was smiling as she held Vlad against her hip, talking to him cheerfully as she turned over boxes. "How do you feel about oatmeal, Vlad?"

In response, Vlad grabbed a lock of her hair and stuck it in his mouth. Belle giggled, gently prying his fingers away, "No, I'm not very fond of it either, but I don't think my hair's much better," she said, letting herself gaze at his face for a long moment before she went back to the task at hand. It was quite difficult, right then, to imagine the bright-eyed child in her arms would grow up to be a man many considered a monster.