Topic: The Calm Before The Storm

Anya De Luca

Date: 2015-01-09 11:35 EST
Anya's due date was quickly approaching, and as such, Mama De Luca had arranged for a baby shower right there in Rhy'Din and had invited all of their family and friends to join them, including everyone they knew from the Shanachie and elsewhere, at least, as far as the ladies were concerned. Baby showers, apparently, were ladies only events, and Tony wasn't allowed to show up until the thing was almost over to help lug everything back to the house.

Not least of which was his own wife, heavily rounded now to the point where she needed help whenever it came to bending down for any reason. Anya's slight frame had blossomed over the past months, and if at times she looked as though she'd overinflated a beach ball and shoved it down her top, at least she was bearing the inconveniences of late pregnancy in better spirits than Mataya had. Still, it was a blessed relief to be rescued from the clutches of Mama De Luca and her daughters - as much as Anya loved her husband's family, they could be quite a handful when put together in the same room. It was a deep relief to see their own little house once again; deep enough that she giggled quietly. "I love your sisters, but the sooner Elena gets pregnant and gets to be the center of their attention, the better, lyubimaya," she chuckled to Tony, turning a sweet smile onto him.

"They're taking their own sweet time about it, aren't they?" he asked, as he rubbed one of her feet, a little swollen from all the day's activity. Surrounded by boxes and packages of all sizes and shapes, Tony had insisted she sit and relax, a cup of hot cocoa and a plate of cookies on a table nearby, while he massaged her feet, one at a time. "Well, once you have the baby, she'll be the center of attention for a while," he admitted, knowing his mother and sisters were liable to make a huge fuss over their daughter once she was born.

Anya had long since stopped even trying to be independent, so wiped out just by carrying herself around that anyone who offered to help her was immediately given a list as long as their arm of things that needed doing. Tess, in particular, had been making an effort to help out the expectant parents, disproving the family opinion that she wouldn't lift a finger for any of them. With her feet in Tony's lap, however, Anya was entirely focused on him, even with their daughter rolling around happily in her womb. "I think your mama is very close to strangling me for not telling her that we're expecting a girl," she laughed warmly. "It is driving her simply crazy that we know and are not telling."

"It's probably a good thing. Mama might be a little biased toward a grandson, and I can't say anything or she'll know for sure it's a girl." He chuckled as another thought came to him. "I hope our baby girl doesn't mind wearing yellow," he remarked, since most of the clothing and bedding they'd received was in neutral shades of yellow or green - not a speck of pink. The nursery had been declared off limits to the family for a few weeks now, ever since they'd finished decorating in anticipation of their daughter's birth.

Her eyes turned toward the boxes that were piled around them, a tender smile on her face filled with affection for the friends and family who had gone out of their way to make sure that the young couple had everything they could possibly need for their imminent arrival. "Ah, she will grow out of most of it before she is old enough to even recognize a face that is not yours or mine," she said quietly, her toes wriggling in his grip. "And what did you do with yourself, while I was being made to eat chocolate in the shape of poo?"

"I baked cookies!" he replied triumphantly, indicating the plate of fresh-baked cookies on the table beside her, along with the cup of cocoa. Tony had never been a slouch in the kitchen, but he'd become much more helpful the last few months as Anya grew in girth. "So, did Mataya weasel it out of you yet' She's been pestering me for weeks!"

Anya laughed at his query. Of all his sisters, Mataya was the sneakiest and the hardest to keep from making an intuitive guess, but somehow they had managed it for the past five months or so. "She is very easily distracted with talk of her son," she smiled, having learned a fair amount of her her own sneaky from Mataya and Elena to begin with. "Every time she asks, I include Oscar in my answer, and she starts talking about him. I think, perhaps, Theresa has guessed, though she is being very discreet."

"Mataya is probably hoping for a boy, so he can be a playmate to Oscar." Hopefully, she wouldn't be too disappointed when they gave her a girl. "So, have we narrowed down the names yet?" he inquired. The last time they'd talked names, they'd had it narrowed down to a half dozen or so, but nothing was set in stone yet.

"I am still leaning toward an Italian name," his wife confessed with a rueful smile. "Lia, perhaps" Though I should very much like to give our daughter some middle name that connects her to her ancestors, if we can." Tradition was a serious thing in many European families, though neither one of them particularly wanted to peg their daughter with something overtly Russian.

"Lia De Luca has a nice ring to it. I don't suppose you'd like Lia Anastasia," he suggested with a smile, switching from rubbing her left to her right foot. He had a soft but firm touch, and knew just the right way to rub the ache out of her feet, from years of experience. She was a ballerina, after all, and her feet were imperative to her career, as were his.

She chuckled, shaking her head. "Anastasia is such a mouthful for little lips to get themselves around," she explained with a smile, groaning softly in obvious relief as he teased the knots from her aching feet. "I had thought perhaps Rosa, but it, too, might cause some difficulty."

"Hmm, maybe something original, then. There's no rule that says we have to name her after someone. What about Lia Antonia?" he asked, with a teasing smirk. As much as it might roll off the tongue, he wasn't serious. "I think she should have at least one Russian name, don't you?"

"You are sure?" she asked, not entirely sure she agreed with him on that one. As much as she loved her culture, she was not so very sold on the names that were embedded within it. "There are a few names that I do not find so objectionable ....Darya, or Gala, for example. Boys names are nicer in Russian, but our little girl should have a name as pretty as she will be."

"Hmm, what about Lia Alexandra" Or Lia Ekaterina?" he suggested, just off the top of his head. It seemed they were decided on a first name; it was the middle name that had them stumped.

Anya De Luca

Date: 2015-01-09 11:37 EST
"Hmm ..." Anya stretched, her back arching as much as it could as she groaned softly. "I think not a name that begins with "A"," she suggested. "The names will run into each other. And so many Russian names end with "A", too." She chuckled, feeling a little defeated by the whole thing. "What about a name that is in both our cultures" Like Sofia?"

"For a first or a middle name?" he asked, letting go of her foot a moment so he could prop a pillow behind her back and help her get comfortable. He reached for the plate beside her to hand her a cookie just because. Now was not the time to worry about diets.

She couldn't help laughing just a little bit at the way he leaped to make her more comfortable. Despite her distinct lack of complaining, Tony always seemed to know what she needed and when. "Perhaps as a first name," she mused, nibbling on the cookie obediently. She'd eaten more sweeties today than she was willing to admit to, but even she had to admit that it had definitely taken the edge off her sweet tooth. "Sofia Marya, perhaps" With the first spelt as Italians do, and the second as Russians do?"

He reclaimed his seat beside her and laid her feet in his lap. "Sofia Marya De Luca," he repeated, letting the name roll off his tongue. "They all end in A," he reminded her with an amused smirk, adding, "But I like it. It's pretty, and it has a ring to it."

"It is not my fault that you have such an uncooperative last name," she laughed teasingly, raising her foot to gently poke her bare toes into his cheek. "Or that both our cultures favor the same ending to a female name. But it sounds well, I think. Do you like it, lyubimaya?"

"So long as I can pronounce it, I like it!" he replied with a grin, taking gentle hold of her foot and tickling her sole lightly - not enough to drive her mad, just enough to make her giggle. It would be dangerous to tickle her too hard right now, as she might roll off the couch and injure herself or the baby.

And giggle she did, waking up their daughter from her rolling around to press what felt like an insistent foot into her mama's side. "Ooh, malyutka, be gentle with me," Anya complained laughingly, rubbing her hand over the discernible movement beneath her dress. "Tony, you should talk to your daughter. Sternly."

"Cara," he started, gentling his voice and laying a hand against her very pregnant belly. "I don't think it's her fault. There isn't much room in there for her to move around anymore," he observed, moving closer to rub his fingers against her belly and the baby growing inside. Nevertheless, he leaned closer so that the baby could hear his voice, which they'd found she did respond to. "Go easy on your mama, bambino. It will be time for you to be born soon enough."

Anya's hand rose to pour her fingers through his hair as he spoke to their unborn daughter who, predictably enough, calmed down as his voice was absorbed. He really did have a magic touch when it came to the little one, earning himself a gentler press of what might have been a hand against his palm before the baby calmed once again. "She will move out soon," Anya murmured, stroking her fingers in and out of her husband's dark locks. "Is it wrong of me to be a little afraid of that day, lyubimaya?"

"No, I don't think so," he replied, giving her belly a kiss before straightening to brush Anya's hair back from her face with a tender touch. "It scares me, too, Anya, but you won't be alone. I'll be there with you." And anyone else she wanted there, as well, though he had a feeling she wouldn't want to make this a family affair.

She smiled faintly, looking up at him with every ounce of loving trust she bore for him shining in her green eyes. "You would think that, with all the injuries I have danced through, that this pain would not frighten me," she mused mildly. "But I think it is more that I am afraid of hurting her, than of being hurt myself."

"You won't hurt her, cara mia," he assured her quietly, touching his fingers to her cheek, a soft smile on his face. "Women have been doing this since the beginning of time, and if you need help, there will be plenty of people to help." So long as he got her to the hospital in time. He didn't really want to play doctor himself.

"And you will be there," she smiled with him, drawing his fingers to her lips to kiss each one tenderly. "I would not be able to do it without you, dear heart. But not your mother." This was added with a firm inflection. "I love her, but she is not going to be allowed into the delivery suite."

He couldn't help but chuckle in amusement at that. "No, if Mama is in the delivery room, she'll want to tell the doctor how to deliver babies," he teased, though it was likely closer than not to the truth. He thought of all of them, Theresa would probably be the most help, but her presence would only make the others jealous.

"She got to deliver her first grandson, she will have to be content with that," Anya giggled softly, leaning forward to kiss him affectionately. "If we are very lucky, she will be born before the new season starts at the theater."

"We can always juggle the schedule, if we have to," he said, though it was unlikely she'd be ready to dance for Swan Lake in February. "Irina can handle things for a few months without me," he added, as he was planning on going out on paternity leave with her to help and to enjoy the first few months of their daughter's life without having to worry about work.

"I will not be dancing again until Giselle," she said regretfully. "But it is not such a wrench, I hope. I wish to be of a high standard before I take the stage again." Though, given the fact that she was still stretching as far as was safe and even going en pointe every day, her worries were likely unfounded. Once she was healed and recovered from childbirth, she would regain her skills easily enough.

"And you will dance the title role," he added. "It will be your grand comeback." He touched his nose to hers affectionately with a soft smile. Of course, if she wasn't ready for it yet, it would be easy enough to give her another role until she was ready. "We are short a prima ballerina or two this season," he said, disappointed in the lack of ballerinas who'd auditioned this year.

Anya De Luca

Date: 2015-01-09 11:39 EST
"Is not Merethyl fulfilling the role as you require?" she asked softly, nose to nose and happy to stay there. "I have been thinking, though ....perhaps we should ask Irina to audition the older girls from the Dance Studio. They are between sixteen and eighteen, and on Earth, they would have been studying with a corps de ballet by now. There must be the spark of a principal within at least some of them."

"Merethyl shows a lot of promise, but she can't dance every role, can she?" He sighed, not really wanting to talk shop, and yet, who else could he share these sorts of concerns with if not his principle partner in both life and career" "How can we grow as a company if all our principal dancers are always leaving?"

"That is the way of things, lyubimaya," she reminded him gently, her fingers still soft through his hair. "And we should develop them as they rise through the school. We may well end up with a very young company that is constantly changing, but we will be able to give them the start that they will not get elsewhere on Rhy'Din."

His head came to rest against her shoulder, one hand finding the rise of her belly again in a gentle caress. "You're right, I know. It's just that it seems we no sooner get a good stable company formed and someone decides to leave." There was always someone to take their place, however, and he was at least glad for that. "Shall we do the Spring Gala this year, cara?" he asked curiously. It was because of the Spring Gala in New York that they'd been reunited, and they'd been dancing it ever since.

"If they wish for us to do it, then yes," she nodded, smiling as she gathered him against her, lips brushing tenderly against his forehead. "It would be nice to have it become a tradition, yet it does depend on their interest in us. They may not ask for me because of the baby."

"I won't do it without you," he told her vehemently. Though he had danced with any number of partners, Anya had always been his favorite, and it was with her that he seemed to shine brightest. "Perhaps we should do our own gala," he mused, tracing lazy circles on the swell of her stomach. "We could replace one of the ballets on the schedule with a gala easily enough."

"Perhaps we could," she mused thoughtfully. "In the summer, maybe. And we could use it to showcase the talent coming up from the school - we could invite scouts and choreographers from Earth, invite friends to perform with us. What do you think?"

"I think if we invite scouts and choreographers, we will lose enough more of our dancers!" he exclaimed, and yet, he could not deny them the opportunity if one came along. He remembered what it had been like to be just starting out and starving for some recognition. "I like the idea of bringing up dancers from the studio and helping them along," he admitted. He really did want them to succeed, but he wanted the company to do well, too.

"Then we tell the scouts ahead of time which ones they are allowed to steal from us," Anya grinned, tapping her fingertip against his nose affectionately. "I seem to recall someone doing that in reverse the first year we danced together, and it did work. No one approached me, for fear they might incur your wrath." She laughed fondly at the memory.

"I was in love with you even then and thought I'd never see you again," he replied, a little defensively, but she knew all this already. Little did it matter now, though it hadn't stopped her from leaving him, in the end. "So long as they don't steal you!" he added, brushing a tender kiss against her lips.

She smiled into his kiss, relaxing against the cushions with him in her arms. It was her favorite place to be. "No one will ever be able to steal me away," she promised him, her voice warm with loving affection. "They would have to tie me up in a sack to have even a chance of it, and even then, I would refuse to dance without you, lyubimaya."

"I could tie you up," he teased, "but I think I'd better wait until the doctor gives you the green light." He brushed another kiss against her forehead. "Ti amo, Anya," he told her quietly. I love you. He smiled and leaned down to brush a second kiss against her tummy. "Ti amo, Sofia," he told their daughter quietly. It seemed they had finally decided on a name for their baby girl. Now all they had to do was be patient for a little while longer. The time was fast approaching when they would meet their little Sofia face to face at last.

((Short and sweet and full of promise! Keep your eyes peeled, the newest De Luca is due any day now!))