i'm in a winter mood

and on to the glory at my right hand

With Remi out with the twins, one might have expected Ronin to immediately collapse into bed and catch up on every bit of missed sleep for the past few weeks. And don't get him wrong - he absolutely does that - but not before he at least attempts to make their afternoon and evening a little easier. Between himself and his projection, they clean up the Northaven as best they can, tidying away clutter, folding endless onesies and blankets, removing toys from underfoot and so on.

Once that's done he makes sure there's something slowly roasting in the oven for later (he was too tired to check, but he's reasonably certain it's ramphire) and that there's wine in the icebox to chill, and then he retires to bed, asleep before his head so much as hits the pillow. And so when Remi returns it will be to a clean houseboat and the scent of spices and roasting meat wafting through the air, his husband softly snoring nearby beneath a mound of blankets.

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

By the time Remi makes it back to the Northaven, Carlo and Calan have settled in the way storm clouds sometimes settle, which is to say not at all, really, but enough that neither of them is presently trying to peel the paint from the walls with their lungs. With one twin tucked carefully into either arm, his shirt wrinkled from tiny fists, Remi approaches the door with the grim concentration of a man attempting to transport two very small, very beloved explosives across enemy lines.

A tentacle curls around the handle so he doesn't have to risk shifting either baby. Even so, Carlo makes a small, indignant squeak into the side of his neck, Calan answers with a fussy little sound that threatens to become much worse, and Remi murmurs something soft and nonsensical beneath his breath as he eases inside, the scent of spices and roasting meat wrapping around him so suddenly that his expression falters into something almost painfully fond.

Only then does he see the cleaned counters, the folded blankets, the absence of toys waiting to murder them by ankle, and finally the mound of furs on the bed with Ronin buried somewhere beneath it, snoring softly. He tries immediately to become quieter, though the effort is optimistic at best when both boys have begun stirring in his arms. "We have come home to find your father has been wonderful while we have been away," he tells the twins in a whisper, the words barely audible over their fussing. "So naturally, we are going to repay him by not screaming for at least five minutes, si?"

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

Walking a tightrope of exhaustion for the past, gods, however long, means that Ronin can fall asleep anywhere, any time at the drop of a hat. Unfortunately, it also means that sleep is feather-light, and as the door clicks softly open to welcome Remi and the twins back inside, the Knight is already stirring in bed. He smiles to himself at the sound of his husband's voice without ever needing to hear the details of what's said; it's enough to know he's nearby, in truth.

"Welcome home," he rumbles softly, stretching out beneath the furs and surfacing a moment later by propping himself up on his elbows. Hair desperately messy and his expression suggesting he's still very much half asleep, it doesn't stop Ronin from reaching out for his little family and collapsing against a couple of pillows, leaving him slouched in the comfort of their bed.

"How was your stroll with Isla?"

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 turns a boyish, apologetic smile toward Ronin with a warm little pulse of we tried to be quite through the bond as he steps out of his shoes. Carlo and Calan fuss in alternating bursts against him, each small sound threatening to set the other off like sympathetic thunder. "I am sorry," he murmurs, though the apology is softened by the affection in his expression as he carefully offers one twin over to Ronin without knowing which it was.

Once Ronin has an armful of baby, Remi sinks down onto the bed beside him with a quiet exhale, adjusting the remaining twin against his chest. "It was nice to see her," he says, his voice low as his fingers move in slow, absent strokes over the baby’s back. A yawn catches him before he can say more, and he tries to stifle it against his shoulder, only half succeeding. "Though I was a bit jealous," he admits, glancing toward Ronin with a faintly mischievous lift of his brows. "She was not sleep deprived at all, because they made the choice to age Fern up."

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

Scrunching his nose affectionately as if to say that there is no need for an apology, Ronin shifts enough in bed to make room for Remi and immediately accepts whichever of their sons he's offers, hushing and cooing at the baby as if to dissuade them from any mounting theatrics. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself, but I won't deny that it's good to have you back," he murmurs, leaning across to kiss the other man's cheek when he sinks down to join him.

"Jealous?" he echoes with a tilt of his head, settling the baby on his chest and surrendering one of his fingers to be held to ransom in a tiny fist. Then Remi clarifies, Ronin's ohhhhh leaving him in a quiet sigh. "That's quite a decision," he says with a raise of his brows. "Though all the power to them if it's something they decided together. Did you get to see Fern now she's all grown up? Or... wait, how old is she now?"

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 hums his immediate agreement, the sound low in his throat as the same sentiment echoes warmly through the bond, because as lovely as Isla’s company had been, coming back to the Northaven and finding Ronin half-buried in blankets with dinner in the oven feels like stepping back into the centre of himself. He turns his face slightly into the kiss against his cheek, smiling faintly as the twin in his arms gives a small, offended squirm before deciding, mercifully, not to escalate.

"I suppose everyone does it at some point," he says softly, adjusting the baby against him with practised care. "Isla mentioned that it was easier on Everest this way."One brow lifts just slightly, not quite judgemental enough to be unkind but certainly enough to suggest that the Bastion has opinions he had very politely kept leashed in Isla’s presence. After a moment, he shakes his head, letting the expression fade into something more thoughtful. "No, Fern was not there. I think Isla said she and Ever were at the beach."

His gaze drops briefly to the baby on his chest, then flicks toward the one curled against Ronin, and a small smile pulls at his mouth as he tilts his head. "She is nine."

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

"Mm, at some point," Ronin agrees quietly, though there's something endlessly adoring in his expression as he gazes down at the baby in his arms. Whichever twin he's got still has a firm hold on his finger, regarding the world and his parents with eyes that, while currently a soft baby-grey, will one day take on the Knight's startling blue hue.

He hears exactly what Remi isn't saying with his comment about Ever, Ronin scoffing and resisting the urge to nudge him gently. "Be nice," he scolds affectionately. "What matters is that everyone is happy and healthy. And if ageing Fern up helps to give her two attentive parents, so what?"

His smile returns to hear that Fern had been with her father at the beach instead of strolling with the two of them, as if that has somehow proven his point, and his eyes light up to hear her age. "Gods," he says with a soft laugh. "Remember Mateo at nine? I don't think there was a second of the day he wasn't into some sort of trouble."

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 shifts as if Ronin’s gentle chiding had been a physical nudge after all, his shoulders giving a small, conceding roll before he nods. "I know," he murmurs, glancing across at his husband with an expression that is only half-repentant. Still, his gaze drops back to the baby on his chest, one brow lifting as if Carlo or Calan might help him argue the point. "It is not as though children become easier simply because they are older, though," he adds. "It just turns into a different kind of stress." So glhf Everest, crying, you'll come to find, was actually the least of all your worries.

At the mention of Mateo, Remi snickers under his breath before he can stop himself, and the baby on his chest makes a small delighted sound in response, caught somewhere between a squeak and the threat of a giggle. "Oh, I certainly do," he says, turning his head toward Ronin with a grin bright enough to momentarily cut through the exhaustion. "Do you remember when he covered his floor in dirt and planted seeds because he said he wanted to be able to keep an eye on his plants all the time, and that he had a room so why shouldn't they?" The floorboards had grown rotten because of the moisture, but in the end, it wasn't a memory he'd trade just for the structural integrity of a floor.

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

Smirking at Remi's half-repentance but doing him the kindness of hearing him out, Ronin ends up giving a gentle shrug himself and letting whichever twin he's got helpfully try to guide his finger into his mouth to gnaw on. "Some people are better at handling different kinds of stress," he points out mildly, gazing down at the baby in his arms with weary adoration. "You can't deny that sometimes it would be much easier if they could just tell us what they wanted."

Glancing towards Remi and the almost-giggle, Ronin can't hide the delight in his expression (and nor would he want to), his laughter much more obvious as he considers Mateo and his attempt at an upstairs garden. "Gods, before you gave him that terrarium he really did put soil everywhere," he agrees, the chaos fond in a way that will never not seem magical.

"And remember the time he got detention at school for trying to teach other kids how to extract poison from some seed pod they were supposed to be growing?" Ronin scoffs. "Honestly, it was a relief when he found a gaggle of friends to get in trouble with, if only because some of them stood a chance at talking him down."

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

Much as Remi might like to continue being quietly judgemental about Everest, Ronin is right. (Of course). "Yes," he concedes, glancing sidelong at his husband, "it would be significantly easier." His gaze drops to the baby on his chest. "Perhaps they could also tell us which of them is which while they are at it."

The thought of Mateo’s various childhood disasters keeps the warmth lingering in Remi’s smile, his fingers moving gently over the baby’s back. "Speaking of friends that talk you out of bad ideas..."” he says after a moment, his eyes flicking toward Ronin with one eyebrow raised in quiet consideration before he looks back down again.

He is cautious with it, not because the thought is unwelcome, but because there are some doors that, once opened even a little, let in an awful lot of light and longing all at once. "Isla mentioned that there are not many children for Fern to play with,{" he continues gently. "The only real friend she has made is in Halo, which is quite far, and not exactly the sort of place she can visit regularly." Remi's thumb smooths along the bundled edge of the blanket, his mouth curving faintly despite himself as the thought of the three of them growing close warms some quiet, hopeful corner of him, even if he has enough sense not to turn that hope into pressure by saying it aloud.

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

"I am reasonably certain I have Calan right now," Ronin declares, as if to say they don't need to have their children tell them their identities, and he peeks at the label inside the babygrow to make sure. Only, of course, he's in fact holding Carlo, the Knight wincing and shrugging to Remi. "Listen, it had to be one of the two," he says in his defence, not that it's much of one when there are only two choices.

He hears the idea in Remi's voice long before he ever brings it up properly, Ronin's eyebrows raising skeptically despite the amusement in his expression. "Go on," he says slowly, knowing his husband well enough to be able to tell when some sort of shenanigans are about to be suggested.

And although he never says it outright, the Knight is able to see the thought take shape without needing further prompting, and whilst there's excitement and affection in his eyes, something else makes it a little bitter; guilt, loss, the fear of getting it wrong perhaps.

"We missed so many childhoods," he says slowly. "...Is Fern having a friend or two more important than seeing them grow up?" He tries not to make it sound accusing, because it desperately isn't, but it would be one thing for Remi to suggest it on its own merit. It's entirely another to want to do it just to give a playmate to Isla's daughter.

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 grins despite himself, looking down at the baby tucked against Ronin as if the infant might yet confess to an elaborate conspiracy. "It is entirely possible that it is actually Calan wearing Carlo’s onesie," he points out, his brows lifting. Gods knew it wouldn't surprise him to know that they'd grabbed an outfit from the wrong pile at some point in the twins' short life and thus ruined their careful system.

Ronin’s guilt moves through the bond before the words properly settle, loss and old fear brushing against Remi’s thoughts in a way that has him stiffening almost at once, his hand stilling against the bundled baby on his chest. It is not anger, exactly, but something close enough to bristle beneath his skin, because for one sharp and unwelcome moment, Flora’s accusation comes back to him with all its teeth intact.

He glances toward Ronin, his expression tightening slightly. "I did not say that," he says, and though his voice remains low for the babies, there is a defensive edge beneath it that he cannot entirely smooth away. His eyes drop again, fingers resuming their careful motion over the twin’s blanket. "It would benefit them too, having friends close to their own age." But even as he says it, the thought has already lost its warmth, soured by the way it feels as though Ronin had twisted his words around when all he'd been thinking of was what might benefit the twins most, rather than their own selfish wants. "Never mind," he says softly, the defensiveness fading into something quieter and more bruised. "Forget I said anything."

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 feels it all too easily as the emotion curdles in Remi's thoughts, the Knight wincing apologetically and shifting to face him a little better on the bed, the baby (Carlo in disguise, potentially) still entirely content to gum at his pinky finger. "I know you didn't," he says, as if to try to smooth down whatever feathers he's unintentionally ruffled. "And it would benefit them - you know I don't disagree with that."

The but sits locked behind his teeth despite himself, though. But Fern surely isn't the only kid in Torchline. But they're still so small. But I don't want to miss any of this.

"I'm sorry," he ventures gently. "Do you think it would be for the best if we took them to Frey? If Isla and Fern weren't in the equation, I mean." Remi's opinion in and of itself is something he holds higher than his own, and if there's more to this that Ronin isn't considering, he wants to hear it.

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 is quiet for a long moment, not because he is withholding, but because he is trying very carefully not to let the bruise of being misunderstood answer for him. When he finally turns toward Ronin, his expression is soft again, and the emotions pulsing through the bond are deliberately calm, not empty of hurt but no longer sharpened by it. "Let me ask you this," he says quietly as his eyes flick down to Carlo and Calan in turn, one bundled against Ronin and one resting against himself, before lifting back to his husband. "Do you think it benefits them at all to stay like this?" To stay in this period of life neither of them will remember save for moments recounted to them at birthdays in an effort to embarrass or endear?

His brows rise slightly with the question, and though he does not add the rest aloud, the shape of it is there all the same, carried in the pause between them and in the careful neutrality of his face. Not accusatory, not cruel, but impossible not to feel through the bond: or is it just for you? And if it was—and gods Remi would understand if it was—he'd rather hear it outright rather than have it positioned as something wrong he was suggesting.

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

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!