I've been wanting to write something lovey, and my other ideas are not fully formed. While Cordelia and Libra is not something I necessarily ship, it's one of the ones I prefer when thinking of writing something bigger.

Cordelia smiled as a soft breeze caressed her face as soon as she opened the door to the orphanage she ran with her husband, Libra. She had always enjoyed the wind in her face, whether it was a light breeze or a heavy wind while on the back of a Pegasus. But she had given up her title as Pegasus Knight some time ago. She still kept her Pegasus, in a stable in the large yard, but her lance had been put aside.

She stepped slowly down the steps and into the yard, the grass tickling at her bare feet. Her armor had also been placed aside. She normally wore old, faded pants and tunics, but had recently traded them for simple dresses.

Several children flocked to her as they saw her, each eager to catch her attention. They called Libra "Mother," and to them, she was their sister. She did not mind, and neither did Libra. She listened to them all intently. The retired knight was not in a rush. She tended to scraped knees and hurt feelings with care. She had soothed hair from fevered brows and moved over at night when someone was scared. She told bedtime stories, happy and scary, on demand.

She had kissed frogs and helped try to catch rabbits. She gave short rides on her Pegasus, who was getting a little heavy due to the children thinking she needed treats every waking moment. She fell asleep in Libra's arms at night, whether she was happy and content or had wakened due to a nightmare. He soothed her heart and her spirit.

As she listened to the children fighting for her attention, Cordelia scanned the yard for Libra. Older children helped to tend to other animals. They had a couple of horses and many chickens. Libra had wanted to add a cow to that selection. And cats came from everywhere, for food or to hunt in the stables.

The younger children either played or helped pick vegetables from their modest garden.

Two young girls, sisters who had lost both their mother and father in the war against Plegia, were telling her of a snail - a fat snail - a very fat snail - when she interrupted. "Have you seen Mother?" she asked them.

"Mother went to the market," they said in unison.

The younger girl, a freckled face blonde named Lilly, looked concerned. "Are you feeling unwell?"

Her older sister, Violetta, also grew worried. She swiped a lock of dark brown hair out of her face as she asked, "Is the baby all right?"

"We can go - "

Cordelia laughed and shook her head. Her growing belly had been the source of curiosity among the children, especially the younger ones who did not have siblings. "Everything is fine," she told them. As if to agree, she felt a faint flutter from the baby. "I just had something on my mind." Her words did little to ease their worries, so she led them to the gardens and told them she would help them pick the tomatoes. As they worked, she had to hide a smile behind her hair whenever she caught them looking at her with eyes full of concern.

The bending and stooping was hard on her back. She soon left the girls to work with a smile and started to walk the yard. A small orange kitten darted between her feet as she walked. A young boy was chasing it. She laughed at the sight. He had been trying to catch that specific kitten for days. "I'll catch it!" he promised for the tenth time as he slipped around her.

"Be careful!" she reminded him. The cat was feisty and did not like the idea of being caught by a little boy. It had left several angry red scratches on many little arms, but the boy, Jarrod, was the only one who had not given up on it.

"I will, Big Sis!" he promised. She winced as he immediately broke the promise by diving after the kitten, who had disappeared under a bush. She did not hear a cry or shout of pain. "Are you hurt?" she called.

"I almost had him!"

Cordelia shook her head with a smile. The kitten was clearly a bigger priority than whether or not he had hurt himself with that leap into the shrubbery.

Her walk led her among the clucking chickens as they pecked the ground. She held her skirts and was careful to not step on them. They ignored her in their search for food. She came to rest on a wooden bench Libra and some of the older boys had built one afternoon. As she sat, she heard the quiet sound of footsteps. Their newest foundling, a frightened little girl named Cass, climbed onto the bench and sat down by her.

"How are you this lovely morning?" Cordelia asked. Cordelia expected no response; therefore, she was not surprised when the girl looked at her with big green eyes, then looked away, her finger in her mouth. It was no matter. She and Libra would continue to do their best to gently coax her out of her shell. "Did you sleep well?"

The girl kicked her feet and turned her gaze to the ground. "Don't you want to play with the others?"

To her surprise, Cass mumbled something Cordelia could not understand. She held her breath and waited for the girl the speak again. Cass looked back up to Cordelia for a second, then back to the ground, but this time Cordelia understood part of what she said.

"Too rough."

"Then you may sit with me, if you like. I do not mind the company." Cass continued to focus on the grass beneath them, but Cordelia thought she saw the hint of a smile. "I understand not wanting to play roughly. It isn't for everyone."

"Mother says they aren't supposed to play rough around you."

Cordelia was again awed at the girl. That was more than she and Libra had managed to get out of her in any of their previous attempts to talk with her. "Yes," Cordelia said slowly. "We do not want anything happening to the baby before it is born."

"When will that be?"

"Not for a few more months." Cordelia placed her hand against her abdomen. It was a long wait, and she still had a way to go, but she could not wait until she held her baby in her arms.

Cass looked as though she was gong to say something else, but a sudden flurry broke the moment between them. Many of the children had stopped what they were doing and flocked to the back of the house. Cass started to slide from the bench to hurry to Libra, as the others had done, but she paused halfway off the bench and looked to Cordelia, who nodded. Cass took two or three timid steps, then hurried to the others.

Cordelia sat and observed. All it took from Libra was a word or a gentle touch, and the children were content. But on market days, those sweet words and loving touches were accompanied by treats given to him by local women. "For the children," they always said, but Cordelia knew they also sought to gain favor with the comely monk. His marriage meant little to them, but their advances meant the same to him. He took their gifts with a kind word of thanks and a smile.

She watched him from afar as he made sure everyone had something tasty. He patted heads and stopped to allow the younger children to throw their arms around him. He held something in his hand and was careful not to drop it as he skillfully weaved between the children. When he made his way through the crowd, the caught her eye and smiled. She smiled back and waited for him to join her.

"I brought you something as well," he said as he sat down next to her. He removed the cloth from what he held, which turned out to be a small basket filled with berries. She thanked him with a kiss. She had been craving fruit as of late and went through more than anyone else in the house. But she held the basket and made no effort to eat any of the berries inside.

"Is anything the matter?" Libra asked, his soft voice soothing to her ears. "You know you can always tell me anything."

"Libra..." All the words she had wanted to say had left her as soon as he was at her side. "I do not know what I did to deserve such kindness," she began. Her cheeks turned as dark red as the strawberries he had brought. It was a clumsy beginning, and one she wished she could take back immediately.

"It's just berries," Libra said with a laugh.

"No, not that." With a sigh, she sat the basket on the seat beside her. "You have always been so wonderful to me. Rushing to my side when I needed you, making sure I never overdid myself in my chase of the admiration of others... Not to mention my... less-than-perfect moments." Her cheeks burned even darker as she remembered some of those moments, especially the ones that concerned a certain blue-haired royal she still could not fully bring herself to let go.

Libra smiled and said, "Cordelia, the gods give us our faults, but they also bless us with those who love us despite them." He pulled her close and asked, "Tell me, truly, are you happy here?"

Cordelia looked around the yard and thought about the simple life she and Libra had built together. It was not a palace, but the house felt very much like a home. It was often crowded, and Libra had discussed expanding it from time to time, but no one complained of cramped spaces or of being uncomfortable.

She looked to the children, all of them talking excitedly or laughing among themselves, licking the crumbs and chocolate from their fingers. At first she had fears of taking in so many. How could they all get attention? How could the two of them tend to so many children? But they were all happy, healthy, clean, fed, and clothed. And no one was upset over some children getting more time with Libra or herself than others. The older ones were happy to pitch in with the younger ones, and everyone always had someone to look to when they needed help or just company.

She turned her gaze to Libra, who was always so warm and loving with her, even if they were only able to say a few words in passing to each other during the day. She threw her arms around him and pressed her face to his chest. So he was not the man she had longed to have in her life for years. He was kind, he was open, he knew of her joys and her distress, and he loved her. "Yes," she whispered. "I am happier here than I ever thought I could be."

"Then that is what matters most." Libra sighed happily and began to stroke her soft red hair. "I say a prayer of thanks to the gods every morning I wake up beside you," he admitted.

"What?" she asked as she tried to pull away to look at him. He continued to hold her close. "But why?"

"When it comes to my would-be suitors, you do not let that affect you. Most women would either burst into tears or make an attempt to fight anyone who would dare try to steal me from my beloved. The gods have favored me with a loving, caring woman." His hand moved to her stomach. "And a wonderful daughter," he added in a whisper.

"I've wanted to ask you..." Cordelia began softly. The children had finished eating and no doubt her time alone with Libra would soon come to an end. "Do you think it's right that we know about Severa before her birth?" She had wondered that over the years, after having met the future versions of many children and having fought alongside them to free the future of these children from the Fell Dragon, Grima.

"Right or wrong, I feel privileged to have even the faintest idea of what to expect." His eyes sparkled as he smiled. "Though she was somewhat spoiled for my liking," he added. "But this little girl," he continued, "will not have to know the agony of losing her mother and father. More importantly, she will likely never have to fight for her life. Though I will gladly still teach her to fight to defend herself if that is what she desires."

Cordelia had to laugh. Libra might fear this version of their daughter might become spoiled, but she was certain he would make sure she had anything her heart desired. "I love you," she heard herself say. It was not something she said often, but she meant it with all of her heart.

"And I love you." Libra smiled, happy as always to hear those words from his wife. He held her for just a little longer, as the children finally took notice of him after finishing the sweets he had given them.

He and Cordelia laughed as the children scrambled to them, sending chickens fluttering across the yard and squawking with anger. Libra pulled Cass onto his lap, and gently reminded others to "be careful" as they climbed onto the bench between himself and Cordelia. Children, all with eager, excited faces, implored Libra to tell them a story. He looked to Cordelia, who nodded. He began with an old story, a familiar one, but one of the children's favorites.

Cordelia shut her eyes as she listened to his melodic voice. This was the life she had now, children of all ages who needed love and a home. Children who sat in her lap as they listened to Libra. Who crawled in bed between them at night. And one of the most patient and caring men she had ever met. It was not the marriage she had ever envisioned for herself, but she loved every second of it.