The house was far too quiet when Neria snuck back in, praying that both her parents were deep in sleep.
Alas, no such luck. The flickering fireplace should have cued her in.
Two pairs of eyes stared at her from the couch. Neria cursed under her breath.
"You're up rather late," her mother observed, her golden eyes half-lidded. She lay lengthwise along the couch, head resting in her husband's lap.
"I could say the same for you," Neria shot back. Her father gave a quiet laugh.
"She is right," he murmured. "You are normally asleep at this hour."
"I would be asleep," his wife replied, "but your little child has decided they want to torment their mama by kicking me every time I try to relax and go to sleep."
Her husband smiled, reaching over to rub gently at the curved mound that was her stomach. She gave a sigh of exasperation, "Mama just wants to go to sleep, little one. You can torment her when you come out."
"They are rather stubborn," Neria's father noted. Neria took a seat beside the couch.
"Have they been kicking a lot?" she asked.
"Try all night," her mother groaned. "Haven't gotten a good night's sleep in nearly a week."
"You haven't tried a sleeping spell?" Neria looked to her father. He shook his head.
"Not sure if the magic would impact the baby," he said, frowning. "Potions are ill-advised as well, especially this far along." The firelight glittered in his eyes as he rested one hand on his wife's stomach, running the other through her long red hair.
"Three months," his wife grumbled to her unborn child, leveling a glare at her belly. "Three months and you can wail and kick all you want."
"Then we still won't get any sleep," her husband murmured.
Neria smiled. "Was I a loud baby?" she asked, curious.
"Not really," her mother said, "You took less time than other children to start sleeping through the night, or so I heard from other women I spoke to."
"And we were glad of the sleep," her husband said, grinning.
"True," Neria's mother said, breaking off in a wince and pressing a hand to her stomach.
"What is it?" her spouse asked, leaning over.
"…just kicked a bit hard," she gasped, "Ow! And did it again…"
Neria frowned, patting her mother's belly. "Stop hurting Mama, baby," she admonished.
Her mother gave another wince, "Stop kicking please." She sighed with relief then as the kicks subsided.
She hummed softly, rubbing gently at the sore place where her baby had kicked. "Maybe if I sing for you, you will sleep better and not hurt your poor mama?" Hmm? Would you like that?"
"Couldn't hurt to try," Neria said.
Her mother cleared her throat and began to sing. Her voice was warm and sweet as she sang of sunshine and clear blue skies, of wheat swaying in the wind and the scent of lavender on the breeze.
Neria closed her eyes and listened, smiling as her father joined in, his lilting voice clear and joyful. The sound sparked a dim memory in the corner of her mind. She could vaguely remember the song, heard through infant ears.
Her parents sang on, the melody calming and soothing even now. Neria wondered what her new sibling would look like, if they would share the same eyes or habits.
She couldn't wait to see them. Three months seemed like such a long time! She grinned, promising herself that she would be the best older sister she could be to the newest member of her family.
