i'm in a winter mood

and on to the glory at my right hand

Ronin's lips part immediately in objection, and now it's his turn for the feeling to turn sour and bruised against their bond. He resists the urge to tuck the baby on his chest closer for fear that it might be viewed as protective in the wrong sort of way, instead biting at the inside of his cheek and turning his gaze towards the ceiling. "Not when you put it like that," he mutters, shifting to sit up a bit in bed, then gazing down at the twins as if they're something he's already as good as lost.

"And of course it is just for me," he adds, his mood growing darker by the second. "Aoife died, Seren was a child already when she came down from the stars. I fucked everything up for both of us with Flora and Enzo, and we were split between the Greatwood and Stormbreak for a lot of Mateo's time like this." It doesn't make it any less selfish, he realises, but gods if that list doesn't feel so long when he looks at it that way.

ronin

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

the bastion

i don't want the world to see me,
because I don't think they'd understand

The sourness that moves through the bond feels painfully familiar, too close to what Remi had just been trying to swallow down himself, but this time he does not brace against it. He only turns his head enough to meet Ronin’s gaze, his eyes soft and seaglass green in the low light of the houseboat, understanding there before any argument can gather itself into shape.

As Ronin lists the infancies they have missed, all the small beginnings that were stolen or complicated or badly handled or simply lived at a distance, Remi nods slowly. There is no part of him that wants to tell his husband not to feel the loss of it, no part of him that does not understand the desperate sweetness of having Carlo and Calan exactly as they are now, tiny and warm and helpless against their chests. Still, understanding does not make the thought any less difficult. "It just makes me think about what Flora said," he says at last, his voice low and careful. "About how it is just our damage that we are passing on." His mouth tightens faintly before softening again, and he glances down at the twin resting against him, at the tiny fingers curled in fabric. "We reacted poorly to her news because of what happened to us in the past, and maybe I am still just being too sensitive about it, but I do not want the fresh start we promised to have with these two to feel like it is also being dictated by the past."

He sighs softly, then shifts one hand with painstaking care toward the middle of the bed, feeling around for Ronin in a way that will not disturb either baby. When he speaks again, his voice is even gentler. "I am not saying we should do it right now," he murmurs. "Only that...this stage of their lives, prolonging it is for us, not for them." His thumb brushes lightly once he finds Ronin’s hand or wrist or leg, whatever part of him is closest, and the ache in him opens through the bond without accusation. "Their lives cannot really begin until they are older, and I do not want it to feel like we are keeping that from them."

when everything's meant to be broken,
i just want you to know who I am

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

and on to the glory at my right hand

Ronin can't hide the brief curl of his lip at the reminder of what Flora had said and the wound that hasn't really closed yet as a result of it. He doesn't know if he agrees that letting their infants be infants is passing on damage, exactly, but at the same time he's not nearly self-righteous enough to proclaim that what Flora said is wrong. He senses Remi shift in bed more than he sees him, his eyes on the twin in his arms and the way the baby has released his finger to yawn widely and nestle closer into his chest.

"Without gods," he says quietly, "this would not even be a consideration." Alas, this is Caido and there are gods, and Ronin has to let that sourness sit in his chest in a way that refuses to shape itself into anything soft or kind. He can't offer agreement with Remi because he doesn't agree with him, but in the same vein, he can't deny the logic in it and he won't argue it either.

So instead he lets his hand find the Bastion's in the middle of the bed, fingers curling around his own. "Next season," he offers quietly. "When it's warmer. We'll need to teach them to swim, and it will be hell when the water is cold."

ronin

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

the bastion

i don't want the world to see me,
because I don't think they'd understand

Remi sighs wearily and nods, because as much as he might wish there were a cleaner answer, there is only Caido with all its divine shortcuts and impossible choices, and the two of them lying in bed with babies against their chests trying to decide how much of a childhood belongs to the children and how much belongs to the parents who love them. After a moment, though, he glances sidelong at Ronin, a crooked grin tugging at his mouth with the faint, stubborn warmth of humour returning through the cracks. "True," he murmurs, "but just think how proud Koel and Bellamy and everyone else from Northaven would be to see us with so many children." He snorts under his breath, shaking his head at the sheer absurdity of it, because given the world they had come from, the number of children they have now would certainly be thought of as both a blessing to the kingdom as well as a mockery of all it stood for.

His fingers tighten around Ronin’s in the middle of the bed, and though the ache remains, the agreement settles into him with something like relief. "Next season, then," he says softly, not because the thought no longer hurts, but because it has been given a shape they can carry together.

Turning back toward the baby on his chest, Remi considers him more thoughtfully now, watching the tiny movements of his mouth, the soft rise and fall beneath the blanket, the impossible smallness of a life that will not stay small for long. His thumb strokes once along the edge of the bundle, careful and reverent, while through the bond comes a quiet pulse of love for all of them, tangled with grief and hope and the fragile promise that when the time comes, they will try not to hold on too tightly.

~FIN

when everything's meant to be broken,
i just want you to know who I am

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!