#when demelza and sam run the mine together......

[wildwren]

THE CARNE SIBLINGS: DEMELZA, SAM, AND DRAKE

Of course. He must know that you're my brothers. Judas! Must it always be such a battle?

[rather-impertinent]

Happy Endings Are No Myth

A/N: Good morning, friends! This fic is inspired by 2 particularly lovely promo shots from 5.08, so there are possible spoilers ahead. There is also fluff ahead. So much fluff. Remember that cosy blanket at your grandmother’s house? This fic is that. Enjoy xo

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“Congratulations Mr and Mrs Samuel Carne!”

Cheers rang out from the wedding party as the bride and groom shared a shy kiss. Demelza, Jeremy and Clowance quickly and gleefully showered the newlyweds in flower petals.

Sam’s joyful laugh could be heard above the breeze and throughout the small village of Sawle as the rose petals showered around him. He looked down at his bride and smiled widely at her; Rosina returned his grin and kissed his cheek.

The fiddler led the way in front of the newlyweds, playing a lilting traditional Cornish tune. Sam and Rosina smiled softly at each other, betraying their solidified camaraderie and blossoming feelings of love.

“Oh, I’m that glad for Rosina,” Demelza gushed to Ross once the procession began to move towards the green where the party would be.

Ross’ lips twitched in amusement. “You’re glad for Rosina but not your brother?” he provoked, before he felt a soft nudge to his rib-cage. They slowed to a crawling pace and hung back so that eager villagers could scurry past them.

Demelza cackled and linked her arm through his. “No, Ross, ‘course I be happy for Sam, too,” she laughed. “I just think Rosina d’ deserve some happiness after all she’s been through!”

“I second that,” Dwight chimed in from behind his two dearest friends, remembering Rosina’s hardships from such a young age from her lameness to her being jilted a fortnight before her wedding. And then again on the day a few years ago. Not to mention her father’s recent trouble.

“Dr Enys has always had a soft spot for Rosina and her temperamental knee,” Caroline supplied, a teasing smile stretched across her face as she hung off her husband’s arm. “Did you know I once considered her my closest rival? She can knit a scarf much neater than I. I believe Dwight still has it in a cupboard upstairs,” Mrs Enys told Ross and Demelza, who laughed at her.

Dwight gently rolled his eyes at Caroline. “I assure you, my love, there was no contest,” he murmured.

“Indeed, there was none,” Ross insisted with a cheeky grin. “Besides scurvy at the mine, Dwight talked of nothing else but you for an entire year!” He laughed when Dwight drew him a warning look.

“Oh?” Caroline asked Ross, her interest piqued. “Pray tell.”

A scarlet blush rose on Dwight’s cheeks, which was ridiculous, he realised, seeing as he had been married for 8 years now. “Ross, please, no.”

“Alright,” Demelza chirped, evidently more than happy to step in on her husband’s behalf. “Dwight would often come to tea with I and talk my ear clean off about you and the lights of your hair and your cornflower blue eyes and your laugh and how red your lips were and how propriety be damned and he would simply have to elope with you and how he’d walk to the ends of the earth if it meant you two could be together,” Demelza concluded with a teasing romantic sigh as she brought her hand to her forehead to imitate fainting; Ross snickered against her shoulder. “Am I mistaken, Dr Enys?”

Dwight, torn between cringing and laughing at the jest, smothered a smile. “Some parts are greatly exaggerated.”

“I should hope not,” Caroline said with a mock pout, leaning closer to her husband. “So you would not walk to the ends of the earth for me, Dr Enys?”

Dwight smiled softly at her; they all knew that he would. An idea then occurred to him, a payback of sorts. “It is worth noting that Ross does not have a leg to stand on in such regards,” Dr Enys announced with a smirk.

Ross frowned in genuine confusion. “To what are you referring, Dwight?”

Dwight looked at Caroline and betrayed his meaning within that single look; Caroline laughed and winked at her husband. “Dr Enys is correct, Demelza,” she insisted, glancing at her red haired friend, “you ought to hear how Ross speaks of you while you are not with him.” Caroline shot Ross a gleaming, mischievous smile.

“Oh, please, God, no,” Ross muttered, placing his hand over his eyes unable to watch whatever spectacle was about to unfold.

“‘Oh, I wish Demelza were here, she would know what to say’,” Caroline mocked in a deep voice, imitating Ross’.

Dwight laughed and gently nudged his wife, with whom he was now in cahoots. “‘I miss Demelza, do you suppose she and the children would come now if I sent word and asked?’” Dwight cited from a conversation they had three months ago in Ross’ London lodgings.

“‘Demelza would love this meal, I must bring her here next time she is in London,’” Caroline quoted, her tone still teasing.

“‘That gown would look fine on Demelza’,” Dwight continued.

Demelza giggled behind her hand though shot her husband a genuinely touched look.

“Alright!” Ross half-laughed, half-whined. “Is it a crime for a man to miss his wife?!” he wondered, crossing his arms defensively.

Gently placing her hand on his cheek, Demelza murmured: “No, it is not.” She then placed her other hand on his other cheek and kissed him deeply. Gazing into his hazel eyes, which crinkled in contentment, Demelza could not think of a more opportune moment to tell him of her news. She was never certain how he would react to such a thing, but it was better to catch him in a good mood than a sour one. “Dwight, Caroline, could you give Ross and I a moment?”

Caroline’s slightly narrowed gaze flickered suspiciously between Ross and Demelza. “Of course,” she said, breezily linking arms with Dwight and leading him away.

Standing on the sandy cobblestones in front of Mr Hosking’s house, Demelza bounced anxiously from one foot to another and back again, wondering how best to broach the subject. Would frankness be more fitting or would a teasing, romantic hint be more appropriate? Then again, picking up on hints was certainly not one of Ross’ strengths.

“Well?” Ross asked after a few moments of silence. “What did you wish to speak to me about?”

“I- I’m tryin’ to find the right words,” Demelza stammered, trying to exhale her jitters. Logically, she thought Ross would be pleased, but if there was one thing Demelza had learned thus far it was that life was not always logical.

“Should I fetch your red dictionary?” he taunted playfully, recalling how in the early days of their marriage Demelza would pour over the dictionary so that she would sound - in her own words - ‘less common-like’, so as not ‘embarrass’ him in public.

“Ross, don’t tease me, I’m tryin’ to tell you somethin’,” Demelza complained in a despairing whine, though a smile tugged on the corner of her lips.

Ross took a step closer to her, a teasing smile etched on his face. “Then tell me,” he said, shrugging casually.

“Alright.” Demelza gently grabbed hold of the lapels of his coat and smiled softly. She took a deep breath to steady herself. “I’m with child,” she then announced, meeting his gaze and unable to contain her smile.  

Ross did not offer a verbal answer but his excited laugh echoed and was carried away with the wind as he quickly but deeply kissed Demelza before enveloping her into a spinning hug.

“Wait one moment, Dwight,” Caroline softly commanded, thinking she knew exactly what Demelza wished to speak to Ross about. “Look.” She pointed to the Poldarks several feet away from them; Demelza was fidgeting nervously and Ross was teasing her somehow.

“Caroline,” Dwight said a bit anxiously, trying to gently pull her away. “Their conversation is none of our business,” he insisted, feeling as though they were intruding.

Caroline theatrically rolled her eyes. “Dim your halo for one moment, Dr Enys, and watch,” she ordered.

Dwight looked upon his friends just in time to see Ross sweep Demelza from the ground and spin her around like a crazy schoolboy; their joyful laughter filling the air. A smile slowly spread across the doctor’s features. “What- is- does that mean what I think it means?” he asked his wife, who smiled in victory next to him, smug that her observations of Demelza’s behaviour these past few weeks had culminated in her being correct in her assumption.

“Yes,” Caroline murmured, pleased there would be another Poldark child; hopefully it would be as lovely as dear Jeremy and Clowance.

“You knew?” Dwight checked, women often shared such confidences before the news was relayed to husbands.

“Not for certain, Demelza said nothing,” Caroline informed him. “We women just know things that men can never hope to, even physicians,” she stated mysteriously, arching an eyebrow at Dwight, who accepted her claim without comment.

Linking his arm through hers again, Dwight led them back down the subtle slope so that they may go congratulate their friends. “It seems it is catching,” Dwight whispered happily, thinking of their own happy news Caroline had shared with him just two days ago.

Running a hand over her still quite flat abdomen, Caroline smiled softly. “It would appear so.”

“Demelza is with child!” Ross loudly announced as his friends approached, knowing it was already obvious from his reaction but wishing to proclaim it out-loud all the same.

The Enyses smiled widely at the Poldarks. “It is the most wonderful news,” Caroline enthused, looking between her two friends, who could barely stop grinning at each other.

“Well, not the most wonderful,” Dwight teased, his mouth swishing from side to side in an attempt to contain his grin.

Ross and Demelza frowned in confusion at Dwight’s comment. “What do you mean?” Ross asked; what news could be more wonderful than this?

Caroline bit her lip; she had no wish to steal Demelza’s thunder but she could sense that Dwight was practically dancing in his boots at the providential timing of it all. Besides, she knew that Demelza would not see it as unkindness, indeed, she’d probably cry of happiness. She nodded her permission at Dwight to relay the news.

“We, too, expect a new arrival in the coming months,” he announced, narrowly escaping bursting with pride.

The Poldarks both breathed a joyful laugh and Demelza’s eyes filled with happy tears.

“How magnificent!” Ross exclaimed, pulling Demelza closer and squeezing her with his arm. “And the children shall be so close in age! I’ve no doubt they shall be inseparable.” Much like their parents, he might have added.

“The coincidence is positively cosmic, is it not?” Dr Enys enthused, pleased that he would be both a father and an uncle again and in such quick succession.

“Must you always be so intellectual, Mr Science Man?” Caroline asked Dwight in a tease.

“Oh, ‘tis fate, I d’ feel it in my bones,” Demelza gushed, offering everyone in the group a teary smile. They had all endured such loss and hardship, and they had endured them as individuals and as a unit. Having survived their ordeals with grace, it was now their turn to be happy. “Well? Someone give me a hug!” Demelza ordered with a laugh; Caroline beat Dwight to it.

“When do you expect?” Demelza cheerfully asked her friend as they broke their friendly hug.

Caroline considered the question for a moment. “I think perhaps May, but I’m not certain. Indeed, it would be quite difficult to be certain,” she inferred suggestively.

Demelza smirked. “I d’ feel your ‘pain’.” The two women shared coy glances and smiles.

“Have you any idea?” Caroline wondered, lightly linking arms with her.

“I think perhaps February,” Demelza calculated, if with a little uncertainty.

Caroline’s mouth fell open and her arm slipped from between Demelza’s. “But, my dear, that is so soon, and one cannot yet even tell that you are with child!”

“That has always been true of Demelza,” Ross supplied. “She never shows until the last few months. She starves my growing children, you see, on account of not wishing to waddle around like a goose.” Ross winked at her.

Demelza shot him a look before she was fondly enveloped by Dwight.

Demelza hugged him tightly in return; she had long considered him an extra brother that she did not need but gladly accepted. “Oh, Dwight, I cannot recall being happier for another body than I feel for you at this moment,” she murmured; remembering how keenly he had felt the loss of Sarah, as she had with Julia. A second child was not only a blessing but a balm to heal the wound, and Demelza thanked God for Jeremy every day.

“Thank you,” Dwight said thickly as he released her from their fond embrace; their eyes shining. “You must take care of yourself,” the doctor told her, motioning to her small bump, which was only noticeable if one knew to look for it.

Demelza rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t start,” she scoffed lightly. “You d’ sound like Ross.”

“Can you ask Dwight to make up some posets for Demelza?” Ross whispered to Caroline as he hugged her. “I wish her to keep well.” He had whispered because he knew the matter was always a sensitive topic for Demelza and he did not wish to upset her with his fussing.

Caroline nodded in understanding. “I shall invite her over for tea and discreetly slip them into her cup as Dwight does mine,” she vowed, turning her attention back to Dwight and Demelza.

Ross exhaled, hardly able to believe so much joy could live in a single day. “If one is a boy and one is a girl then we shall marry them to each other,” he proclaimed.

“I’ll drink to that!” Dwight joyfully agreed with a grin.

“I shall not,” Caroline insisted with a mock frown of discontentment. “I should think our offspring could do better than a Poldark, Dr Enys.” In Caroline’s mind, there could be no one better.

Dwight schooled a smirk, immediately understanding her game. “That is true, my darling. They are exceedingly selfish and impulsive,” he said, pointedly eyeing Ross with a barely contained grin.

“And those Enyses, Demelza,” Ross said to her, feigning contempt, “are more stubborn and opinionated than any beings on earth.”

Dwight, Caroline and Demelza all laughed. “Hmm that all may be true, my dears, but ‘twould be no concern of ours seeing as the children would then be grown, and so we may sit back an’ enjoy the show!” Demelza concluded with mischievous chuckle.

“Now that I shall drink to!” Caroline exclaimed.

“In that case, shall we join the others now?” Demelza asked the group, smiling widely. It had been a long time since she felt so content. Nay, she thought, content was not strong enough, this was happiness, joy, elation.

Ross groaned softly to her left. “Must we?” he whined; his hatred of parties had softened none over his 42 years on earth.

“We must,” Demelza confirmed. “Come along Cap’n Poldark, we’ll see you get a cup o’ gin and then perhaps I might even persuade you to dance with me,” she flirted.

Ross laughed and comfortably linked his arm through hers. “Four cups and I might be tempted by the Six-Hand Wheel,” he wagered diplomatically, having honed his skills during his time as an MP.

“Nay, Ross, four cups be too much! You’d be fallin’ and staggerin’ about like a newborn lamb afraid of the slaughter!” Demelza insisted seriously; Ross barked a laugh - Demelza had the best descriptions for things. “Three cups are plenty.”

“Three cups, then,” he repeated in agreement.

The gathering was in full, jovial swing by the time they walked the five minutes it took to get there. Flowers were tucked into every crevice of the ground, attempting to liven up the dulling winter landscape. Fires were lit in droves on the borders of the area, including one massive bonfire which stood commandingly in the centre of the field; everyone danced around and next to it. Despite the slight winter chill, the flames were not needed, for warmth did not want here today.

“Are ‘ee happy?” Sam asked his wife as she sat on his knee as they watched their guests enthusiastically dance in front of them.

Rosina looked up at him, enraptured at being wed to such a fine man. “I am,” she confirmed.

Sam sighed happily. “‘Take delight in the Lord and he will-‘“

“‘-give you the desires of your heart’,” Rosina completed with a soft smile, resting her head against Sam’s shoulder.

“Shall we sit here?” Caroline asked, motioning to two free spaces to her left not too far from where Drake, Morwenna and Loveday all sat engrossed by each other’s company.

Ross’ arm went around Demelza’s waist as they walked over. “Perfect.”

An hour and five gins later, Ross and Dwight watched in amusement as a tipsy Demelza demonstrated the steps to the Mesk yn Merth to an even tipsier Caroline, who - despite considering herself half-Cornish - had never attended a proper Troyl and so did not know all the more traditional dances. Both women laughed as their arms got entangled when they bumped into each other; they hung onto each other’s waists for support as they cackled at their mistimed folly.

Ross sighed happily at the sight of Demelza’s smiling face. Though he knew nothing of how far along she was, her face already had an ethereal glow to it. “Are they not wonderful?” Ross asked his best friend in a slight slur, whose eyes were set adoringly on his own wife.

“They are,” Dwight sighed in agreement, still smiling softly as he watched the dance tutorial several feet in front of him. “We landed quite the windfall when we married them, did we not, my friend?” He looked at Ross.

Ross smiled. “We did,” he agreed. “Though I did not always realise just how lucky I was,” Ross admitted, thinking of a distant moment of spectacular idiocy and misjudgement.

“Nor I,” Dwight admitted, thinking of recent times. Ross looked quizzically at Dwight because of the admittance; Dwight smiled and shook his head. “But no matter, all has come well.”

“All has come well,” Ross repeated, the sentiment ringing truer than any he had uttered before. Ross nudged Dwight and raised his cup. “To Demelza and Caroline - and to the future.”

“To Demelza and Caroline and the future,” Dwight repeated, holding his cup aloft. “Cheers.”

“Cheers, my friend,” Ross said, clinking their cups together.

Without warning, Demelza and Caroline fell onto their husbands laps, causing them both to spill a little of the contents of their tankards. Demelza smoothly store Ross’ cup of port and drank it greedily, a powerful thirst upon her after dancing. Dwight did not wait for Caroline to steal his and simply offered it to her instead; Caroline privately lamented that it was not as fun this way.

“What mischief be goin’ on over here, Sirs?” Demelza asked, tone teasing and filling the air around them with light-hearted camaraderie.

Caroline placed a quick kiss on Dwight’s mouth and chuckled when his mouth chased her own as they parted. “I would rather not know, I think, Demelza. Dr Enys seems entirely too sentimental at present and I fear his comments may embarrass my good unfeeling name,” said Caroline, her eyes alight with mirth as Dwight’s soft eyes met hers.

He feigned consideration. “Do I embarrass you?”

“Daily,” she joked with a sigh.

Suddenly, Demelza spat out a mouthful of Ross’ port onto the grass; he looked at her, appalled at the waste of liquor. “Is- is that Sam?” Demelza stuttered, squinting her gaze from where she sat and nearly falling off Ross’ lap in shock. “Dancin’?”

The small group looked in front of them and were met by the sight of the bride and groom twirling together; Sam looked a little like a newborn deer uncertain of its steps but judging from the smile on Rosina’s face, she did not mind at all.

Ross smirked. “It seems some things after worth sinning for,” he murmured, the overindulgence of gin making him unusually sentimental. He looked at Demelza in such a way to suggest that the initial sin of their out-of-wedlock coupling and its subsequent result would be worth an eternity in hell.

“Or Rosina is a witch,” Caroline offered in a jest. She then covered Dwight’s eyes with her hand. “Avert your eyes, Dr Enys, lest you fall under her spell again.”

Dwight, Demelza and Ross’ laughter echoed and floated into the crisp air.

“We must dance soon - when they begin the Corwedhan,” Demelza insisted.

Murmurs of agreement rang out; for now, they were all content to wait their turn dancing, simply enjoying being in one another’s company with little cares and fewer worries.

A few hay bails away, Drake breathed in the smell of the damp grass and the spicy ferns, their fragrance heightened by the earlier light rain shower. The fires - dispersed like hen feed across the large field - crackled softly in a warm, enticing glow. Drake drank in the sight of everyone’s happiness; it seemed to outweigh the oxygen in the air. It was as though they all, in this moment, existed in a bubble, one which was tinted rose and gold with love and contentment. Drake prayed it would never burst.

“What are you smiling at?” Morwenna asked her husband, a small smile on her elvish features as she looked at him. In her arms was a small bundle of blankets within which two-month-old Loveday Carne could be found sleeping soundly.

Coming out of his trance, Drake turned and looked at them both with adoring eyes and his smile grew wider. “Just life, my love,” he murmured.

“What about it?”

Looking about him, Drake sighed in contentment. “You and I,” he began dreamily, “and Miss Loveday ‘ere,” he bent down and softly kissed his daughter’s hand, “Brother and Rosina,” Drake motioned over to the two dancing and laughing newlyweds, “Sister and Cap’n Ross,” he murmured as Ross placed an enthusiastic, drunken kiss on Demelza’s cheek, “Dr and Mrs Enys,” Caroline’s arms were about Dwight’s neck and her eyes were closed as her head rested on his shoulder, “And all who be ‘ere,” he concluded with a happy sigh.

“Oh, Drake, I so admire your love of life,” Morwenna told him, her tone adoring and sincere. It was Drake and his unfailing patience, kindness and optimism which had pulled her from the shadows and into the light.

Drake grinned and leaned over to kiss her, his hand tucking a rouge strand of hair behind her ear. “Life always be worth livin’ so long as we ‘ave somebody to love, Wenna. And there be a lot of love here.”