Author's Note: Another new fandom. More writing is happening. Stay tuned for more femslash, as well as more new fandoms.
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Nothing Better
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Two boys run down the path. With the way evening sunlight strikes the grass. turning everything vibrant, you would think it midsummer but for the damp spring flowers just blossoming.
From the window of a cottage peers a blonde woman - severe, impatient - and yet, she stares at the taller of the two as if she ways to reprimand him, all the while covering his face with butterfly kisses.
"Lissa," she calls out. "Our son's home. He brought Morgan."
Lissa lets fumes rise from the stove but smiles. They'll be along soon enough.
Morgan tumbles up the front steps, Owain yelling as he charges after. "Get back here!" Maribelle insists, brandishing a scrubber brush, but Morgan is already inside, dirtying Lissa's kitchen. Maribelle catches Owain by the scruff and points crossly to the water spigot.
She wins some, she loses some.
Lissa can smell Morgan before she sees him; grass and horse dung and sweat, against her citrus tea! "You smell awful," she tells him. Brown hair ruffled, the boy pouts. She looks away. He's too cute to criticize when he puffs out his cheeks like that. (Funny, since Maribelle says the same of Lissa.)
"'s not my fault, Owain's the one who wanted to go on an adventure!" Morgan wipes his forehead and accidentally smears more dirt across it. Lissa tugs him to the wash basin and scrubs his hands and face until the gleam like a newborn's bottom.
"So what's for dinner, anyway?" Owain is up the steps and through the door. "I want fish."
Lissa kisses his forehead. Blonde hair drips water on her tile floor, and his shirt is missing. No doubt Maribelle has burned or submerged it. "When you're cooking dinner, you can make fish." Lissa giggles. She's too young for this - too young and too short. Another growth spurt and Owain will surpass her. She hands him two plates and follows with three more.
Amidst the chaos, Maribelle sneaks into the room and smooches her wife, just behind the ear where she favors most. Lissa jumps. "Lissa, our boy would be cleaner if he were a hog," she says, and the princess smiles. "I don't know what I expected, really." Filthy son or no, there is nothing better than this.
Lissa serves the stew. They all agree it is delicious.
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