They decided that, while they liked things a little wild and and a little crazy sometimes, neither of them wanted to explain to Tiz and Agnès that the Arrior toddler had been temporarily misplaced.
With that in mind, they also decided that the child had already tricked them once, and a repeat absolutely could not happen. Once Ringabel had finished feeding the child and started on his own food, Edea kept a close eye on Toivo. Just to be safe, she kept a good grip on him as well, holding his arm carefully in her hand as he played with her fingers with his own grubby ones.
While she could grudgingly admit that Ringabel had done a halfway decent job of feeding the boy, given that it was his first time attempting to do, a good amount of mashed food had ended up all over the child's front side. How long had it been? Less than an hour, surely. Though the boy had been wearing only a diaper when he'd pulled his disappearing act, they had managed to get him a smock before 'grounding him' in the tub, and now it was also filthy. They would have to change him again.
"It's your turn" Ringabel reminded her when she said as such out loud. He'd gotten himself a cup of coffee - hopefully to stay awake - and was nursing that as he slowly ate his meal. Edea thought he might've been going so slow on purpose, so that he could beg out of changing the baby again.
"I don't know how to change a baby," she pointed out. She'd watch Agnès and Tiz do it plenty of times, but it was a new experience for her. Then again, if Ringabel could do it, why couldn't she?
"It isn't hard," Ringabel replied, and she wanted to smear the gravy of his country-fried steak into his hair at the smug grin he gave her. "You used to dress dolls as a child, did you not? It's much the same."
She huffed. "Ringabel, surely you remember how I treated my dolls."
His eyes flicked up as he thought. It wasn't that Edea had been… terrible to her dolls or anything, oh no! She had just sometimes ritually sacrificed them to the gods or punished them for make-believe transgressions. When she'd finally grown old enough that her father trusted her to handle a sword, she had stopped playing with dolls altogether, though a few had been safely stored away, still tied up together from when she had dangled them above a pit of imaginary sharks.
"Well," he corrected himself slowly, because she could practically see him remembering the time that she and Alternis had held a funeral for a doll that had been 'poisoned'. "The changing part is the same. Just be … more gentle."
Toivo gurgled at her, slamming his hands against the table to make even more of a mess.
"It's just his clothes," Ringabel assured her. "I'll be there to change his diaper again if he's soiled it, but I promise you it truly isn't that hard. You've helped me change a few times, too."
"Uh, that's hardly the same thing." Because she hadn't been helping him change so much as helping him out of his clothes entirely, and because she never had to worry about being gentle with Ringabel, at least not physically. Most of the time she handled him was when he was either drunk or tired, when he couldn't care less if she let him on the floor. A baby would be a different story, surely.
But she sighed all the same and reached over to begin to gingerly unstrap Toivo from his high chair. Ringabel watched her, hazel eyes probably judging her technique as she hefted the toddler from the chair, trying not to get some of that mess on her blouse as she propped him on her hip.
"We brought a change of clothes," he reminded her as Toivo tried to grab her hair. It was true, they had. Tiz had recommended it, and they would be spending the night anyway, once the Arriors returned home. "Two, actually. So, there's really no need to worry about getting too dirty, is there?"
"I suppose not…"
He went back to his mashed potatoes, stirring them idly. "I'll come and help you in a bit. Just give it a shot, my dear. Or are you afraid?"
"I'm not afraid!" she told him, narrowing her eyes. "Why would I be afraid of changing him? He's only a little - baby, is all he is!"
Ringabel said nothing, but glanced at her over the top of his coffee mug as he drank from it, and she turned to storm out of the room, Toivo in her arms.
Carefully, she placed Toivo on the changing table, watching as the boy grabbed at his feet and wiggled around. "Alright," she said to herself, pushing her sleeves up. "You've faced worse, Edea. Just go in there and…!"
Except when she pulled the smock over his head, some of the food that had been spread on his top spread into his hair and into his face and though the wide, mostly toothless grin that he gave her was cute, the continued mess was not. She tried to wipe it off with the edge of his discarded clothing, but only succeeded in making things messier.
Mrgrgr!
Ringabel poked his head in. "How is it going?"
"Can you get a wet washcloth?" she asked him. Ringabel coming solved the problem of how she was going to get a wet washcloth without leaving the baby alone on the table. She knew that you didn't leave babies who could roll over alone like that! They didn't need him getting a bump on the head on top of everything else.
He did as requested, but as he brought it back and handed it to her, he said, "I think we're going to need to bathe him."
Edea ignored him for a moment, scrubbing the cloth along the baby's dirty face and neck. He squirmed and batted at her with his little hands, wailing in displeasure.
"How do we do that."
"It's just like washing a dog, probably."
"We don't have a dog!"
Toivo was beginning to cry again, his face crumpling up. At least that was clean, Edea thought with a bit of exasperation. Ringabel scooped the baby up into his arms, mess and all.
"We'll figure it out together," he told her soothingly, crooning to both her and the baby. "How hard can it be?"
Toivo was old enough and large enough that they could simply plop him into the bathtub, they decided. Ringabel ran the water until it was only a couple of inches deep, and added some bubble solution that Edea had once gifted to Agnès a few years ago so that a nice layer of bubbles covered the top.
Then the little boy went in, dirty and grubby, and he immediately started to play with the bubbles, paying no mind to the two adults who also looked like they wanted to play with the bubbles.
"I think when we get home," Ringabel commented to Edea, who was kneeling beside him. They knew not to leave the baby alone in the water, just as you didn't leave an animal alone in the bath, and had decided they'd both help with this endeavor. "I think when we get home, that you and I should take a nice, long bath together."
"With bubbles?"
"Of course, as well as some champagne, a few candles… I've got some dried rose petals leftover from last month."
"That sounds like a date," she replied. Tiz and Agnès had a small cup sitting on the bathtub that she had figured out was for splashing water over a bathing child, and so Edea used it for that now, careful not to get the soap in his eyes. His hair plastered all over his face and head, making him look much like his father did when his hair got wet. It was adorable.
Toivo was distracted, now playing with a few hollow, wooden toys that Ringabel had made himself months ago, splashing them in and out of the bubbles. They were light enough to float on the water, and so were greatly entertaining as together, she and Ringabel scrubbed the child down until not even a speck of mashed peas remained behind.
"That wasn't so hard," Ringabel commented as he lifted Toivo up in his arms. The boy was wrapped up in the biggest, fluffiest towel they could find, his hair sticking out from his head as they tried to dry him off.
She was covered with water from head to toe. She had no idea how that had happened. Ringabel as well, was pretty soaked. "Don't jinx us," she told him as she examined her clothing. She was once again thankful they had brought some changes of clothes.
"I'll dress him while you get dressed," Ringabel offered, still scrubbing at Toivo's fluff of hair. "And then if you want to hold him for a while, I'll change."
They were not going to leave him on his own again, and with the bathtub wet from the bath, with bubbles still sticking to the sides even with the water drained, they couldn't ground him again.
Tiz had a small "office"/storeroom that also doubled as a guest room; it was also where the couple locked away all the items they didn't want their toddler getting to. There was a bed that could be folded down from the wall once the rest of the furniture was moved out of the way, but as it stood now, there was plenty of room for Edea to change. She stripped out of sodden clothes, and after a bit of consideration, changed into her pajamas. How did parents do it? How did they ever want to leave the house after dealing with an energetic child all day?
"Are you tired?" Ringabel asked when she returned to him. By now he had gotten Toivo dressed again, the boy clothed in a clean smock with a clean diaper. His hair was only damp, but still just as wild as it had been before. Ringabel had only just started to brush through it.
"We're not going anywhere," she pointed out, lifting Toivo to her hip and taking the small, soft hairbrush from Ringabel.
"You should style his hair in a pompadour," Ringabel pointed out. "It would be cute!"
… actually, that would be kind of cute, and Agnès would likely think it adorable, while Tiz might be exasperated. "I'll consider it," she replied, already planning on how to pull it off. Ringabel of course, carried his vast hair products wherever he went, but she knew Tiz had a supply of pomade for the special occasions he needed to tame his hair (though given how infrequently those occasions were, she wasn't sure the pomade was still good).
Her husband gave her a twinkling smile. "I'll help," he offered.
"I know how to style your hair," she reminded him. She didn't like knowing how to, but she had watched him do it often enough in their shared bathroom that she had figured it out before long. Ringabel took so long getting ready in the morning that they would never get anywhere if she didn't also use the space herself at the same time.
She dug out the pomade from Tiz's small supply of hygiene products, the small container buried underneath aftershave and unused cologne. It… still looked good and unexpired, and so with that in mind, she carried Toivo into the kitchen and once again set him down into his high chair to play with his hair.
Ringabel found her there as she was pulling the front of the boy's locks into the familiar curvy shape. He pulled up a chair to watch, propping his chin in his hands. He too, had decided to change into his pajamas.
"You're good at that," he commented, as she brushed out some of the waves. Toivo was not staying very still, making it hard, but at least he wasn't crying again.
"I told you," she said, distracted. A few strands just refused to cooperate and stuck out. The kid was truly his father's son. "I've watched you enough to know how to do it."
He joined her, helping shape the back of the boy's hair until they were finished. The end result was a toddler with the strangest looking pompadour Edea had ever seen, even stranger than Ringabel's. Toivo smiled gummily at them as they stood back to survey their work.
"I wish I had brought a camera," Ringabel lamented. "How will Tiz see our masterpiece?"
"We just have to keep him neat until Tiz and Agnès come back," Edea replied, glancing toward the kitchen clock. A couple of hours had passed since she had last heard from Agnès. The show would likely be ending soon, and she wasn't sure if Agnès would call again or if the couple would go to dinner first. That would probably take an… hour, and then another hour or so for them to return home.
"That may be more easily said than done," he pointed out. "How many times have we changed him now?"
"Too many to count," she grumbled.
They couldn't keep Toivo tied down in the chair forever, though it was tempting, and so Ringabel carried him out into the living space. From there, he upended the wicker basket that contained an assortment of toys and stretched out on the floor with the child, playing with him. Toivo was especially taken with the wooden soldiers and the fun noises that Ringabel made as they fought against each other. Soon, the little boy was giggling.
Edea leaned back against the couch with a glass of tea, watching the baby and the slightly bigger baby playing. It was cute. Ringabel wanted children, but on top of that, he had always liked caring for children. He had once told her that his own childhood had been bleak and miserable enough, and that no one else needed to suffer through the same way. It was why he went out of his way to deliver some kindness to children in Eternia, often stopping in the streets when they were out running errands to engage in snowball fights, and he arranged for deliveries of sweets to be made every month to the children's ward in the healing tower. He would be a good father, someday.
The playing had the nice side effect of wearing Toivo out, and before long he was crawling to lean against Ringabel's side, a wooden soldier tight in his hand. Ringabel took it from him, and the toddler curled up against him and closed his eyes.
"What do I do?" Ringabel asked after a moment, looking down at the boy.
"I guess you live there now," she replied, sipping at her tea. A headache had been building behind her eyes, but now it was fading. "Goodbye, Ringabel. I knew you well."
He twisted onto his back to glare up at her. "Dear. Please. I need your help."
She flapped a hand at him. "Don't wake the baby, honey. Do you want me to bring you a book?" She would take pity on him.
Ringabel let out of a sigh, his chest heaving. The toddler hardly moved. "If you could, please."
She went to the bookshelf to try and find a book that he might like when the light of the crystal shard flashed again, causing her to take a slight detour.
Tiz and Agnès were both visible in the tiny piece of crystal.
"How are things going?" Tiz asked, his arm tight around Agnès's shoulder. From the looks of it, it seemed as though they were sitting outside a restaurant. Waiting, maybe? Or just taking a moment to check in. "Have you broken anything yet?"
"Everything's fine," she assured him. "We haven't broken a single thing! Except perhaps Ringabel's pride."
"That's been gone a while," Tiz reminded her. "Why, what happened?"
She swung the crystal around until they could see the scene in front of her; Ringabel laying awkwardly on his back on their handmade rug, a wooden soldier in hand and the toddler sleeping against him. Though she could no longer see them, she heard Agnès coo in delight. Tiz laughed.
"Tiz," Ringabel hissed, his voice hushed so as to not disturb Toivo. "This is no laughing matter!"
"That means he likes you," Tiz assured him. "But uh, could you maybe not let him sleep on the floor for long? And what's with his hair?
"Where does he usually sleep?" Edea asked, suddenly unsure and also ignoring Tiz's question. He'd have to see that for himself. She now remembered Tiz building a crib months ago, but hadn't seen it in their room.
"In bed with us?" Tiz asked, as though it should have been obvious. "When he can walk around, we'll put him in the crib, but for now he shares. It keeps him warmer during the night."
"No wonder you two don't have more children," Edea said, because everything now made sense. That explained it.
"Anyway," Tiz pushed on, ignoring her comment. "The wicker basket that has those extra blankets in it, the one by the couch. You can empty it and put him in there if you don't want to stay in the bedroom. Just keep an eye on him. He sometimes wanders after he wakes up from a nap. And what's with his hair?"
"Wanders?" Edea asked, trying to act shocked. And a part of her was shocked. So they knew he could get up and disappear? Why hadn't they said anything?!
Ringabel was already rolling to his knees. He barely disturbed the boy, as deep in sleep as Toivo was, and Edea watched him scoop his hands under the boy's form, cradling his head.
"Gotta go!" she said to Tiz and Agnès. With Ringabel's hands full like that, she would need to empty this wicker basket, which she spied sitting by itself. "Enjoy your dinner!"
"Give him a kiss for me!" Agnès said as the connection died. Edea set the crystal down and grabbed the basket, upending it over the couch with very little ceremony.
… then she grabbed one of the discarded blankets and used it to line the edges of the basket. She wasn't a total monster.
"Thanks," Ringabel told her, carefully placing the sleeping boy down. They tucked the blanket around him, and Edea fetched a stuffed animal for him to hold. Then, once it was obvious that he wouldn't wake, both adults fell back onto the couch, landing amongst quilts and comforters.
Edea wormed her way into her husband's arms until she could lay her head against his chest.
"You forgot to give him a kiss," Ringabel commented idly, his hand running down her arm almost ticklishly. "Agnès said to give him one."
"You can give him a kiss," she replied, nudging him in the side. In response, he kissed the top of her head instead, squeezing her gently around the waist. She settled against him, enjoying how hot he was through his clothes. The cottage could get chilly.
"How many times have I said it before?" Ringabel asked, his tone was teasing despite his words. "I'm not very interested in caring for men."
"He's a baby," Edea reminded him, elbowing him more viciously this time. "Are you going to say the same to any son we have?"
Ringabel cringed, yelping slightly as he bruised. "It was a joke! Just a joke, darling. I make exceptions for anyone younger than myself."
"Like Tiz?"
"Tiz is a special case anyway," he argued. "As is Agnès."
"Are you saying that you'll kiss Agnès?" Edea asked him, testing his common sense. Ringabel kissed Agnès on the cheek all the time, but she wanted to make him sweat with the implications.
Ringabel wisely kept his mouth shut, and after a moment of awkward silence, changed the topic. "So do you think we'll have a son?" His hand found hers.
She exhaled. She had brought that topic upon herself, she supposed, by mentioning their hypothetical son first. "Maybe," she relented. They both had babies on their minds, given how much of the past few hours had been spent with one. "Who knows? I don't think we have any say in what we get."
"I want a girl," Ringabel said, voice thoughtful. "Their clothes are cuter. All the bows and frills, and you could probably put a headband on her to match your own hair bow."
That… sounded adorable, damn him. Edea as already thinking about how she might pull that off, though it had been a while since she'd had enough time to make actual clothing items. "Is that the only reason you want a girl?" she asked him, stalling for time as she tried not to think about all the knitting patterns that she knew by heart. Would she want to make the bow out of fabric or felt?
"Of course not. Girls are sweeter, they're more gentle…"
"Ringabel, come on." He was smarter than this.
"I think of the woman I love most in this world, and can't imagine anything I'd like more than for a daughter who might inherit her best qualities. Not to say that a son can't have those qualities as well, but with a girl it just seems more special, like you."
Edea felt oddly touched. Ringabel was way too good at buttering her up and saying sweet things, but for once she found that she didn't really mind if he had ulterior motives for being sappy. She twisted slightly, squirming around until her head was now nestled against his shoulder. They should probably keep things relatively tame since they were supposed to be babysitting, but that didn't mean she couldn't give him a kiss to his jawline.
He smiled down at her, and his lips pressed to her temple. "Besides," he started to add, and she prepared herself for him ruining the mood as always. "I'm not sure the world can handle another boy who might turn out like me."
There… were several ways she could take that, and she chose to go with one that wouldn't raise her blood pressure when she thought about how horrific his childhood had been, and how angry and hateful he'd been until his memories had been erased by terrible trauma. "I don't know," she replied lightly, patting his leg consolingly. "You're not the smartest, but you've turned out alright. The poor women in the world could use a break, though."
"They do have a break," he argued. "I'm a one-woman man now, you know that."
"You were flirting with the waiter last week when we went to dinner," she pointed out.
"I was not. I was merely complimenting her on her hairstyle!"
"You said her hair was gorgeous and divine and complimented her fair features. Don't you think most women would consider that flirting? It's not like she can tell you off for being a creep while she's on the clock working." She had told him this before, but he always seemed to forget. It was like his brain had no filter to his mouth, causing him to just leak thoughts around that were better bottled up. At least she'd left a big tip for the waitress in this case.
"I know," he cringed. "I'm trying to get better. At least I didn't point out that blonde woman with that tight dress that we saw in that boutique yesterday. The way that her dress hugged her - "
"Ringabel," she interrupted him, before he got himself grounded to the couch by himself for the rest of the day, and even when they returned. Sleeping on the couch in Eternia was never pleasant. She tapped his stomach. "Can it."
Even if she had noticed the tightness of that dress herself. She'd made a mental note to find a version of it for herself to wear.
He wisely shut his mouth, and instead wound his arms around her shoulders to hold her tight.
Toivo was lucky still asleep, despite their conversation. Edea found herself yawning as she watched him, a little bored. So if they couldn't do anything fun, couldn't do anything loud, couldn't do anything outside, what could they do? What did Tiz and Agnès do?
"I imagine that Tiz usually works outside on the farm while Agnès is cooking or doing chores," Ringabel answered when she asked him. "They're hardly ones to conform to gender norms, but I know Agnès keeps an eye on Toivo and sleeps when he does." And Tiz had more farming experience than the former vestal did. She had been learning the basics from when him when she'd fallen pregnant, and caring for the baby took up most of her time now.
Edea made a face. "I don't know if I want that."
Ringabel shrugged, jostling her. "I know there are some things that only a mommy can do for her baby, but once we have ours, I certainly wouldn't staying home with the kids."
She looked at him, surprised. "You what?"
"You're the Grand Marshal, Edea. I can't imagine you staying at home and playing housewife. On the other hand, I've had enough adventures to last me several lifetimes. I can take care of our children while you work."
Against her will, a mental image of Ringabel in an apron trying to take care of a little blonde baby popped up. In this image, both baby and Ringabel were crying, and behind them, a stove was on fire, but Ringabel was doing his best. She smiled.
"I might consider that," she said. She didn't want to end her career to have a baby, but if Ringabel was going to take care of them, then… that was a game-changer. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all. "Then you should get some practice in, Daddy."
Her face immediately flushed hot when she realized what she said, but Ringabel was either too flustered or too wrapped up in his own thoughts of children to react much. He gave her an awkward smile, but it was several seconds later that her words really sank in, and she could see him catch on. His eyes flickered to her, and before he could do more than grin at her, she stood up, brushing her skirt off.
"You still want that book?" she asked, turning away so that she didn't have to see his insufferable smirk.
"Yes, dear," he replied, and the smirk was audible in his voice. "We can get some reading in while we wait for Toivo to wake."
"You can get some reading in," Edea decided, patting her heated cheeks. "I'm going to take a nap in the other room for a while."
He whined now. "Edea, you could at least lay on the couch with me. You can put your head in my lap."
As much as she wanted to crawl into Tiz and Agnès's bed and let the embarrassment die off, she relented. She selected a book from the bookshelf for him - what was a farmer's almanac? - and brought it back to Ringabel. When he took it her from her and began to rifle through it, she stretched out on the couch beside him and rested her head on his leg. Immediately, he reached down to begin to pet her hair. When his fingers started to comb against her scalp, nails lightly scratching, her eyes slipped shut. This was why she had married him.
"Darling," he said softly sometime later, jolting her out of a doze. Her eyelids felt heavy. "While you're down there, do you think you can scratch my left leg?"
Or maybe not, she decided, letting one of her arms fall of the side of the couch so she could scratch the mentioned leg. Sometimes, he had no sense of romance.