Silent Scars

By: piperholmes

A/N Another Tumblr prompt: "I feel like they never bring up the fact that Demelza's father beat her. I would love to read a story where Demelza and Ross talk about it." Set during episode 5 after the Christening. And thank you so very much for the reviews on my other stories. They mean so much to me!

Unbeta'd

"Do you love your father?"

Ross remembered having asked her that question following that fateful market day, remembered well the feelings of frustration and confusion that had arisen when he'd first seen the deep marks on her back and had learned they were from the very hands that were meant to protect her, but he couldn't remember her answer specifically, only that it had been sassy.

At his question Demelza looked up at him startled, and Ross realized she'd not been paying him a bit of attention. Not that he could blame her. He gave a small smile as he rolled onto his side, careful not to shake the bed, allowing him a better view of their petite daughter as she lay in her mother's arms suckling loudly.

He couldn't help the impulse to reach out and play with the tiniest foot he'd ever seen, prompting a renewed effort from Julia as she pulled on Demelza's breast and a quiet laugh from his wife.

It was good to see her smiling, to see her happy. She'd been nothing but worried all day, and then moped about following the christening. He had to admit he'd not exactly known what to expect when he'd sent the invitation to her father, but he supposed it could have turned out worse than it did.

In all the time he'd known Demelza the topic of her father had not been one they'd spent a great deal discussing. He'd learned all he cared to know about Tom Carne the day the man's large fist had connected forcefully with Ross' face, because he knew those same large hands had hit Demelza, a girl so slight and malnourished she'd had no chance to defend herself. He couldn't stomach the thought.

His wife frowned at him, clearly displeased with having her admiration of her baby disturbed with thoughts of her father. She shifted her legs beneath the blanket, her skin pale in the candlelight, a contented tiredness about her eyes.

"What a question t'ask before bed," she answered quietly, and, Ross knew, avoiding having to respond.

"Are you afraid to answer?" he pressed.

Her lips pressed together, a sign of her irritation. "I don't know Ross," she huffed. "I'm jus' tired is all. Why bring up somethin' like that now?"

"You just seemed very upset today. More upset than I assumed you would be."

Demelza's eyes fell to Julia and she gave a shrug.

They gazed in silence for a moment as the baby's eyes drooped closed, her jaw slowing.

"Is she finished?" he asked.

Demelza nodded. "Dwight says I oughtn't let her over eat at bed. That be why she spits out so much milk he thinks."

She made to move but Ross' hand on her knee stayed her, and he slipped out of the bed, grabbing one of the clean rags Demelza kept by the cradle before taking the dozing baby into his arms and setting her against his shoulder, careful to ensure the rag was in place, having learned the hard way what could happened to his nightshirt.

Julia mewed in protest until Ross' hand firmly began rubbing her back, soothing her upset. He continued to mull over the events of the day as he stood by the bed watching Demelze tie the front of her nightgown back up, reveling in the warmth of his baby against his neck as she squirmed about, her full belly seeking relief.

When finally a surprisingly loud belch was released with, happily, a minimal amount of milk, Ross shifted her down into his arms, wiping her rosebud mouth, smiling as she fell quickly into sleep. He leaned forward, allowing Demelza to kiss the baby goodnight before placing his own kiss against her cheek and laying her in the same cradle he'd slept in as a baby.

He lingered there, his hand against her belly, feeling the gentle rise and fall with each breath, humbled by this vulnerable life in his hands.

And he understood.

"I can't imagine it," he whispered sadly.

"What?"

"She's my child, my daughter and I her father. I am meant to chase away her fears, not inspire them."

His eyes met hers.

She seemed to shy from him, though she didn't move. He saw it, saw the memories take hold, saw the conflict in her soul.

He rose and returned to bed, settling against the pillows, as Demelza sat silent.

"You're still afraid of him," he finally said, not a question, a statement.

"No…" she began but trailed off under the knowing dark gaze of her husband. "I don't-I don't mean to be," she said simply, but her hesitation cut at him.

"You know I would never allow him to hurt you," he replied evenly. "Ever."

"I know that Ross. I jus'…I can't help the feelin' that grips me when I see him. It goes deep into m'belly and I feel sick and afeard of what 'ee might do," she confessed, shame in her voice.

He wasn't sure what to say to that. He wanted to defend himself, to dig and find out how, after all this time she could still have such fear.

He sat up, blowing out the candle, plunging the room into the pale blue light of the moon coming in through the window, then settled down next to her, bringing her into his arms, her head coming to rest on his chest.

They'd not had much opportunity to lay together in such a way in recent weeks, first with Demezla being so big with child, and then the natural unrest and challenges that come with new parenthood, but holding her now he could feel where her body had softened thanks to carrying Julia, and he felt a greater tenderness for her pervade his heart.

With loving, careful strokes, his hand moved over the faint scars at the nape of her neck that betrayed the truth of Demelza's childhood. He shushed her kindly when he felt her stiffen, feeling a little ashamed he had made this about him. He had wanted Mr. Carne to see for himself that his daughter and granddaughter were better off without him, that he, a member of the "dandiacal folk" had made Demelza happy and healthy, to rub it in his self-righteous, hypocritical face that Ross would be the far better father. But he could see now that his selfishness has come at a cost to Demelza, and while he wasn't quite willing to apologize for it, he wanted desperately to make it up to her.

"I promise I will make it my life's work to take that fear from you."

She breathed against his skin, her breath warm as she rested heavily against him. "Ross, you've taught me what love is. I love you. I love Julia. I love our life here, together. I don't know if I can say that about what I feel for m'father, maybe one day, but here, right now, I'm that glad knowing 'ee are Julia's father. I can't think of a finer or be'er man."

"Your generous heart is too good for me Demelza," he breathed, touched by her words. "Julia couldn't be blessed with a finer lady for a mother."

Demelza fought to silence her doubts, to silence the voice of Ruth Treneglos' cutting words, to silence the angry accusations of her father, holding instead to the honestly spoken belief that Ross had in her, and having the courage to allow it to continue to heal her silent scars.

He kissed her, a kiss of promise and safety and love. "Sleep my love. Julia cares not if we are rested, and will be demanding your attention soon enough."

He felt her smile before relaxing against him, and fall quickly into the exhausted sleep of mothers, beginning to understand what it meant for her to trust him so completely.

Thanks for reading!