PLEASE READ THIS WARNING: I do not own Rio, Jewel, or any character or theme used in the Rio film. They belong solely to Blue Sky Films and 20th Century Fox.

This is a simple one-shot requested by Storylover Alpha 01, about Blu and Jewel's kids. It's about 2.6K words long, but hope you enjoy. K+ because of a lack of mature material. Seriously.

Wish my luck, though. I'm stuck on Next to You, and it totally reeks. . Hopefully I can overcome my writer's block.

So let's go with it:

~Jewel~

We often tell children many fantasies, all these fictional stories that involve magic and mystic powers and whatnot, and you can see them. You can see them get all excited and worked up from all these stories and the most illogical thing is that they BELIEVE it. They believe that these stories are real and they play such a huge part of their childhood. No wonder so many kids these days are a bunch of thumb-sucking idiots that believe the sun has a face and animals could stand up and converse with them. This is a mystery that had been retained for such a long time in me, one that baffled and subsequently disgusted me. Back when I was young my auditory senses were never tortured with such lies- I told myself that if I ever had children, I would never [NEVER] tell such stories to them.

This is exactly what I tell Blu, at one point of time when we were discussing our future, right next to the white spheres that contained our children. It was never a very heated argument- Blu told me that how I wanted to raise my children, he won't interfere unless deemed necessary. He trusted me to give our children the best growing up experience that I could possibly foster, and of course, that was one of the reasons I loved him so much. He trusted me.

That was roughly a year ago. The three singular eggs had hatched open, revealing our beautiful and adorable children [I am still, up to this date, embarrassed as to the melodrama that occurred, with every tear of joy my eyes excreted]. They possessed the power of speech and the power to propel themselves airborne, and it has of course been a blast raising them. Blu, of course, nurtured them the best way he could, being the gentle mate of mine and always giving them the best. But one thing that I learned from Eva, was that when they become rambunctious [for the record, they are not, so I totally regret this] you have to put your foot down and treat them with… seriousness. Now that I look back, I would've used the word 'harshness'.

One particular night, however, when the moon was a single glowing crescent sliver in the sky and the kids were supposed to sleep, the insomnia bug had infected them. I could hear them toss and turn, finding an appropriate position to smoothly slip away into dreamland… but to no avail. And of course, parents should be awake to monitor their children before drifting away into slumber.

The rather impatient one [her name was Safira, the Portuguese word for 'Sapphire'; her feathers were cerulean blue like Blu's but her irises were her name-sake] turned to me with a complaint-giving look on her face. "Mama, I can't sleep."

I shot an accusing look at Blu. "Did you give them chocolate again?" Like every other kid in the world, mine had sweet teeth and absolutely adored chocolate. I did too, but it's not every day that you see three little hatchlings finish a bar the size of an adult bird. And that's a real caffeine bomb for three little hatchlings, if you asked me.

Blu sighed, exasperated, wearing a sheepish grin. "Desculpe, meu amor. They wouldn't stop bugging me for some." {Desculpe, meu amor = Sorry, my love}

Tesouro [which is Portuguese for 'Treasure'; his feathers light blue and his eyes were strangely green] spoke up, rather apologetically and with his head drooped. "Desculpe, Mama. It's not Papa's fault; it's ours."

I smiled at him; he was the sensible one, at least, always letting himself obey his seniors. "Esta tudo bem. I'm not angry at you." {Esta tudo bem = it's okay}

"Hey Mama," Diamante [the Portuguese translation of 'diamond', his tint of blue was slightly lighter than Blu's but his eyes resembling his fathers'] perked up, as an idea struck him like a bolt from the sky. He was the inquisitive one, always asking and being curious about the world. "Since we can't sleep, can you tell us a story?"

"A story?" I repeated quizzically. How would a story aid them to sleep?

Safira [whose intelligence surpasses the two boys, unsurprisingly, and also happens to butt in when necessary] was suddenly infatuated with the idea and she spoke up with jolted interest: "Sim, Mama, a story! Please? Tell us one!" Even Tesouro, the quiet and socially awkward one, looked to me with desperation and pleading, and the other two started to chirp away. {Sim = yes}

I knew that somehow, somewhere, Rafael's kids might have told them the sort of fantasies and fictional stories, and had ignited their sudden interest in them. They had to know what stories did- to frame something as real when it's counterfeit. "Sorry, kids." I muttered, a weak smile on my face. "Mama's tired and needs her sleep." I yawned artificially, to somehow emphasize my point.

Three simultaneous groans of disappointment resounded. "Aww…" Frowns were donned on their faces, and my maternal instincts sent a surge of pain through my heart. But they had to realise how these stories would affect them in the future.

But, my plan backfired as suddenly three pairs of eyes dug into my mate. "Papa!" They exclaimed in unison.

Blu, who had been in a dreamy state at that time and was about to slip away to sleep, suddenly jolted awake, a small yelp to accompany it as well. "Yes my children?" He asked.

"Papa," Safira whined. "Could you tell us a story? We're all sleepy but we can't sleepppp…"

He smiled gently. And to my horror, he answered: "Sure."

As a bunch of 'sim's and cheers emerged from our children, I yanked Blu over. "Didn't we have this talk?"

He raised an eyebrow. "About?" He asked rather nonchalantly.

I fumed. "You know, about-"

But before I could finish my sentence, Diamante chirped up again, when he and his siblings had settled down from the initial jubilation; they obviously were fascinated by the wonders of being sucked into the fantasy realm. "Tell us the one about the pigs."

I squinted; they probably already knew about these stories, so why did they have to be reread like a broken recorder? The more they listen to it, the more they would be compelled to believe it was real… I gave my mate a quizzical look, since I had no idea what stereotypically American and renowned fairy-tale they were talking about. His eyes were still locked with our son's. "You mean the wolf and three pigs?"

"Sim, sim," Safira answered rather enthusiastically. "Tiara" –Tiara was Rafael's daughter- "told me if Mama and Papa everrrr" –she slurred the last note- "told us a story, it would be that. She says it's a good one, she says." And suddenly their attention was diverted to my mate, eagerly waiting to be absorbed into the mystic realm of stories.

From the way they desired to be told these stories, the glints in my children's eyes, and the fact that it would be pretty cruel to ruin their happiness over such a trivial matter; I relented, and leaned my back against the wall of the hollow, relaxing myself as Blu gathered the children together into his wings' embrace. I anticipated the lameness that is the immature fairy-tales of today…

Suddenly Blu looked like some wise senior telling a little child about all the wisdom he had, from his ever-so-gentle smile. "Once upon a time," he said tenderly. "There were three little pigs. They all lived under one roof, you see, with their Mama." What about the Papa? I thought.

"That's like us!" Safira chirped up, and Blu chuckled, giving no response but resuming his story.

"But one day they were all grown up and had to go make their own house. Before they left, their mother told them 'Whatever you do, do it the best way that you can because that's the way to get along in the world.'

"So first pig said: 'I'm going to build a house of straw.' So he went to get some straw and built a house with them."

"That's clever!" Diamante perked up. "It would be really comfortable, that house."

"Then," Blu continued. "The second pig said: 'I'm going to build a house of twigs'. So he went to get some twigs and built his house."

"You mean like most other nests?" Safira asked.

My patience was wearing thin. "Kids, please be quiet, your brother is trying to sleep." I gestured towards Tesouro, who had his eyes partially but not fully closed, not saying a single word.

"Ok, Mama." Diamante answered in a hushed whisper.

"The third pig said: 'I'm going to build a house of bricks'. So he went to get some bricks and built his house.

"But then, one day a big" –the way he said it was like doom was approaching, foreboding and mysterious- "bad" –a frightened look flashed across all three faces- "wolf that came. He huffed," –Blu inhaled deeply- "he puffed," –he then exhaled deeply- "and he loved to blow things down! And eat pigs."

"So he went to the first pig's house, and he yelled, 'Let me in! Or I'll huff! And puff! And I'll blow your house down!'" His voice of the wolf was bass-tone, deep and masculine-evil.

" 'Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin,' the first pig cried out." I squinted at Blu, having used a rather idiotic soprano voice- what sort of mumbo jumbo was this story getting to?

"So the wolf took a deep breath and blew! Then the house of straw fell down, and the wolf ate the first pig up."

"That's terrible!" Tesouro exclaimed, genuinely but mildly terrified. "What a dumb pig," Diamante said, and I had to agree with him. This story was so nonsensical; it took all my self-control not to face-palm in front of my kids.

"Then he went to the second pig's house and the same thing happened- the wolf blew his house of twigs down too, and ate him up."

"But what about the third pig?" Safira asked. "Would the wolf blow his down too? Poor Mama!" I shuddered; the thought of all my kids being eaten up by predators was most disturbing; I diverted all attention to the words uttered by my mate so as to avoid the terrifying thought."

Blu chuckled. Obviously the third pig's house wouldn't get blown down; no wolf has the capacity to blow down a house made of bricks. "Then he went to the third pig's house and he bellowed: 'Let me in! Or I'll huff and puff and blow your house down!

"And the third pig said, 'Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin.'

"So the wolf blew… and blew… but he couldn't blow the house down."

"Yay!" Diamante cheered, and a grin stretched across Safira's face. Even Tesouro seemed rather happy. That was what stories did- make you feel connected to the story as the author manipulated your every thought and emotion. It was clever, but frankly disturbing to me.

"But the wolf was clever- he decided to climb in through the chimney of the house."

"Isn't that like Santa Claus?" Diamante inquired, and I pursed my lips. Now my children knew even about Santa Claus; I couldn't bear to imagine their sorrow on realisation that Santa wasn't real. I had been long lied to about the whole Christmas issue, and I vowed never to expect anything from anyone, ever again.

"But the third pig was smart. He lit a fire with a pot of water under the chimney and when the wolf came down, he went KERSPLOOSH and that was the end of the big bad wolf."

"Hurray!" Diamante cheered, but rather weakly as slumber threatened to overtake him.

"The next day the little pig invited his mother over. She said "You see it is just as I told you. The way to get along in the world is to do things as well as you can." Fortunately for that little pig, he learned that lesson.

And he lived happily ever after."

"That was a nice story," Safira said, as her eyes drooped. Tesouro yawned out a massive amount of air. It was contagious- Safira and Diamante yawned as well and all three lied down, ready to sleep. My face twisted in bewilderment- how could one simple story manage to eradicate insomnia? It was illogical.

"I hope you know the true meaning of it, though." Blu added. "Good night, Diamante. Safira. Tesouro." As he called each name, he laid a small peck on each of their foreheads, and after a short duration of time, no movement emerged from them save their rising and falling chests. They were asleep.

"How did you do that?" I asked in a hushed whisper to Blu, amazed. He turned to me, his smile never fading. "Works all the time. I remember Linda's mom telling that to her once- it's like magic."

I frowned, however, retaining my pessimism over this issue. "But you realise sooner or later Safira is probably going to search for bricks to make a nest, right?"

Blu chuckled, wrapping a wing around me. "Kids are kids. When they grow up they are gonna realise that you can't carry bricks, and there is no big bad wolf at all. Heck, when they grow up they're going to find out where eggs come from." I shuddered again; I never liked that talk when I was younger.

"But how would you know?"

"Because, I've seen Linda. She used to believe in unicorns, too, until eventually they realise it's a myth."

"But wasn't she disappointed?" I questioned. "When she realised that what she believed in was fake, wasn't she upset as well?"

"Oh, meu amor" –I felt his beak press lightly on my cheek, sending a ripple of goose bumps- "Kids will grow up. They'll mature, and once they do, they'll be able to see what's real and what's not. They won't treat the fantasy stuff with much regard." This particular statement struck a chord- how had I not realised this? Fantasy is fantasy, and no matter how terrifying real it is, it will always be disconnected from reality… children would have the ability to discern that.

"Besides, stories have morals. They'll remember these things, and they'll apply it in real life. They'll see that, like the third pig, it works. They'll grow up remembering that the best way to get along in the world is do everything the best you can."

I smiled- Blu was wiser than me, it seemed, when it came to raising our children… it was good that I had him by my side. "Thank you meu amor."

He kissed me briefly, the taste of his beak lingering in me. "Now you should go to sleep too. Don't worry, Jewel. Everything's alright."

"I figured," I stated, and I felt Blu lean back against the hollow wall, away but next to our sleeping children. I gazed at them lovingly. Tesouro, Safira, Diamante… they were our future. They were my children, and they were my source of true happiness. I couldn't ruin their childhood just because of my superstitions of story-telling.

"Good night, Jewel. Eu te amo." {Eu te amo = I love you}

"Eu te amo." I mumbled back, as I succumbed to the force of slumber, laying my head on my mate's chest as he hugged me tighter.

I would always remember the third pig. He was clever, and he took his Mama's advice properly. 'In whatever you do, do it the best way that you can because that's the way to get along in the world'… I would want to raise my children like that.

Well hope you liked it. Which means this is my FIRST EVER complete story! Yes! Yippee! {Signal of the Mate was incomplete, Reciprocation is only a collection} Oh, and by the way, 'Conto de fadas' is Portuguese for 'fairytale'.

So anyways, please review. Appreciated if you did. ;)

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