It's been two months, that's a good time for an epilogue, right?

It was finally over, thank God.

Rhys hadn't been so terrified since Neal was born, and time seemed to have softened his memories of that particular terror quite well. The midwife had only just come out to tell him that both Belle and their baby were safe and resting and he could go inside as soon as he was ready. It was a girl.

They had chosen the name Rebecca if it was a girl. Rebecca Evanna Colette Gold. He knew the name by heart and had even dreamt of it on occasion. But now there was a little person that name was attached to, and she was just on the other side of that door waiting for him to work up the nerve to go in and meet her and he loved her so much he wasn't even sure he could move. His hands wouldn't quite take the knob, and in any event his legs didn't seem inclined to agree with him about walking regardless of his traitorous hands.

He wasn't sure he'd ever been more terrified in his life. He'd gone through this all before with Neal, but at the time inexperience and naivete had reassured him that all would be well. There was money enough to feed them all and he wasn't his father and that should have been good enough. This time he didn't have the benefit of ignorance and he was painfully aware of everything that could go wrong with a child. And Rebecca was a girl, and he hadn't ever had one before.

Neal had been the eldest, the heir, and even at his son's most vulnerable Rhys had never needed to worry about reputation beyond making sure he was honest, educated, and respectable. Rebecca had been born halfway to ruined already. The first sign of any of her mother's wit and spirit or of a flirtatious nature and the girl would be written off entirely by polite society. God forbid anything ever befall her like what had happened to Belle – Heaven help him if she turned out as beautiful as her mother.

At least she would have money to insulate her, but he didn't know how to even begin to raise this child who would need so much protection when he already wasn't sure that he would see her to adulthood. Men in their forties had no business having baby girls. What had he even been thinking?

The door opened and Belle's maid was standing there holding an armful of linens. She looked a little startled, but recovered easily enough. She curtseyed, and apologized loud enough that he knew Belle had to have heard her. Well, there was no more lingering and trying to work up his nerve if his wife already knew he was there.

Belle was sitting up in bed in one of her pretty nightgowns with the baby nestled in her arms. She glanced up when she heard his footsteps and smiled at him and suddenly he couldn't stop moving forward until he was at her side.

"You're gonna meet your papa, darling," she cooed to the bundle on her arms before looking up and patting the spot next to her to invite him to join them on the bed.

He sat with them quickly, and Belle brought her knees up and shifted the sleeping infant to rest on her legs so he could see her more easily.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Belle asked.

"She is," he replied truthfully. "She looks just like you."

"You liar," she teased. "You can't tell who she looks like yet."

"I'm sure she has your nose," he replied, reaching out and touching the baby's cheek with his finger. "And your lips."

Belle smiled and looked back at Rebecca, but he could see her fingers teasing a piece of lace on the edge of the blanket nervously and he put his arm around her comfortingly. Experience told him she would tell him what was wrong soon enough if he was patient.

"I love her so much," Belle whispered and he heard tears beginning to overwhelm her voice. "She's so perfect."

"She is," he replied, leaning over to kiss his wife's temple softly. "You did such a good job and I'm so proud of you."

Belle was crying in earnest now, and he wasn't sure what to do besides let it happen. As hard as this had all been on him, he knew she'd been through the worst of all of it.

"How am I ever going to protect her?" Belle sobbed at last. "She's so small and perfect and helpless and the world is so dangerous."

She was echoing his own concerns, and as much as he wanted to be strong for her, the best he could do was to pull her head under his chin so his tears would fall into her hair where she couldn't see that he was terrified, too.

"Nobody is ever going to hurt her," he said before he could even stop himself from lying to her. "She'll be safe, sweetheart, I promise."

Belle nodded and sniffled a little. He wanted to tell her it was the stress of childbirth and that she was just exhausted and would feel better if she slept. It would be so easy to put her off, but that would just make her feel crazy again – or at least like he thought that she was.

She was doing so much better than she had been when they got engaged, but he knew there would always be something inside her that no amount of love and patience could put right. She would always know what it felt like to be hurt and that knowledge couldn't be erased, only mitigated. He never came upon her when she was alone without announcing himself, never touched her unexpectedly, and never left her side when they were among strangers. And now, he would protect their daughter the same way.

"I'll be right here with you the whole time," he promised. "We are going to do this together and she is going to be safe."

Belle nodded weakly and rested her head on his shoulder in a way that made him feel so much more important than he ever had before.

"I know," she said softly. "It's just so scary to think about. I can't stop thinking about whether my situation would have been different if I'd had a mother like she will, but no matter what I think of I still come back to the same bad things each time. But maybe not, maybe it would have been different. Maybe that would have made a difference."

"It will," he said. "You'll teach her well."

She nodded again and he felt her try to stifle a yawn.

"Go to sleep," he said with a smile. "You were in labor all night and most of the day. You must be exhausted."

"I'm not that tired," she replied, but another yawn interrupted her before she could elaborate on how very awake she was feeling. "I don't want to let go of her yet."

"She will still be here when you wake up," he replied. "I can promise you that much."

"Will you stay?" she asked. "With both of us?"

"Of course I will," he replied, kissing her head again. "I can't think of anywhere of rather be than right here."

She smiled and reluctantly handed Rebecca over to him, and he kicked off his shoes so he could lay on the bed with Belle while she napped.

He was sure the little girl was going to look just like her mother, but his fears of her being lovely had faded when he was faced with the truth of his child – of their child – the truth of Rebecca and of Belle, who maybe would always hurt, but who would had survived and grown stronger for it. Or perhaps she had always been strong and never known it, but regardless he knew that she would do whatever it took to keep their daughter safe.

Either way, he knew in that moment that there was nothing they couldn't do. Their daughter would be raised with more love than either of them could have hoped for. She would have a father to protect her and a mother to shelter her, and what more could he possibly hope to give? What more could anyone ever want?