Like a Horse Made of Air

The Weight of Madness

"We're pregnant!" Arthur hollers as he walks in for breakfast.

Esme is beaming with pride from her place tucked into his brother's side. Instantly the noise at the table shifts. Ada leaps up to take Esme's hand and gush. While John and Keeva are perfectly content to voice their opinions from their seat. Pol has that smug look about her that says she knew long before everyone else. The kids clamor, debating on whether it would be better to have another boy or girl in the family.

His Wren finishes setting the plate in front of him then turns to face Arthur and Esme, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder.

"Congratulations," she says, her voice warm. "I know you've both been looking forward to being parents."

"Let us know if you need any help getting your place set up for a babe," Tommy adds as he lifts a hand to cover hers.

"Thank ya, Birdy," Arthur gruffs with obvious pleasure. "Thank ya, Tommy."

Then breakfast resumes as everyone settles at the table. The conversation drifting towards childhood memories and baby names. Then everyone scatters to go about their day.

His own mind drifts to the thought of his woman round with their child. They'll be married, his ring on her finger. Maybe they'll have more than one and she'll be holding on to the fingers of a little boy with his dad's eyes, or a little girl with her mum's smile. The ring he bought seems to grow heavy in his pocket.

A moonstone set in gold with tiny feather motifs around the band.

He knows Polly's growing impatient with him, and the rest are confused why he hasn't already. Even he isn't entirely sure what he's waiting for. He'd told her after he secured the deal with Kimber. He'd gone to Cheltenham with the mind to propose the same night when the damn thing was done.

Instead he'd been rattled. Both by what he'd witnessed of Kimber and the realization he could become something like him. And what he'd almost allowed to happen to the blonde.

"And you say you're a bad man," she shakes her head as she leans against his shoulder. "You know how many people—man or woman—would have let him do whatever he wanted if it got them what they wanted? Some of 'em would have even been willing to sit in that game room and watch. But Tommy Shelby? That Peaky fucking Devil that everyone's so scared of? He saw a bad man and wanted to be better."

She's spent so much time trying to convince him that he was perfectly fine exactly as he is. And he's made strides to making peace with himself. Can see himself as a dad now, believes he can be what his family needs. But she hadn't been wrong; he'd seen what Kimber had allowed himself to become and wanted to be better. He promised himself years and years ago, that he wouldn't be his father. That night, he'd promised her he wouldn't be Kimber.

He can be alright being a bad man, so long as he's also a good husband.

She'd told him that she believed in him, promised to help if that's what he needed.

She trusts him.

He reaches a hand into his pocket as he walks, fists his hand around the little jewelry box exactly where it's been for months. Truthfully, he's getting impatient with himself. Wants to hear people call her Mrs. Shelby. Wants to introduce her to people as his wife. Wants to see the glint of gold when she moves her left hand. Craves the weight of a ring on his own finger. Wants and wants and wants.

But the box stays in his pocket.

He's drawn out of his thoughts by none other than Freddie Thorne falling into step with him.