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Cordelia

Noah's voice presses into her mind; soft, soothing, and as gentle as snowfall. All the things she has come to expect from her husband. The One Shot draws in a breath, releasing tension from her shoulders as she carefully pours the stew into the pot over the fire. They are. They were always going to be. Her voice is quiet, subdued, but still warm as she looks towards her son. I just wasn't ready.

That was the short of it. She wasn't ready for them to grow up. To be eager to explore and run away from her protective eye. The idea alone was enough to make her sick. Still, they were here and that wasn't going to change.

Her son's voice grabbed her attention once more and she met his gaze, smiling gently as she extended a hand to him, "Come help me stir." She said, passing him the wooden spoon in her hand once he was close enough and making sure that he wasn't too close to the open flame as he began to carefully stir the pot.

'Cause darling, it was good // Never looking down
And right there where we stood // Was holy ground

It's too much to bear my darlin', the weight of the world

And I would carry it for you

They each finished up the tasks at hand to be able to prepare dinner, and sat down together at the table. Noah couldn’t help the way that he watched the twins and their mother, nor how he flooded the attuned bond with such immense amounts of love and joy and pride. While it wasn’t the circumstances they would have chosen (seasons ago it may have been for the demigod, but he had moved on from those notions), it was what was before them. Noah couldn’t stop the way his heart felt as he watched his children fill their bellies and then look at each other and yawn.

”We will need to get bigger beds for you.” Noah laughed, remembering how their last night of sleep was spent in the nursery in their shared crib. ”Maybe Sah or Deimos will come over and make one tomorrow. For now, we can have a sleepover before the hearth.” Noah smiled at Cordelia, glacier eyes twinkling.

Then, the family set off to the next tasks. They put away food, cleaned up what Noah and Cordelia had been doing when the twins arrived, moved furs and blankets and cushions to the living space, and then snuggled in together.

The Forsaken sighed, content, and slept with his wife under one arm, his daughter under the other, and his son sprawled across his lap.

FIN