Della smiled as she looked over the stolen plans of The Spear of Selene, which was a special rocket ship that her Uncle Scrooge was having built for her for when her baby boys hatched. It was beautiful, she couldn't wait to take it out for a spin… but it was clear based on the hastily scribbled note on the side of the plans that said that she was not to even know about it until after her boys hatched.
She rolled her eyes, ugh, it was bad enough dealing with Donald being so over-protective and sensitive in regards to her and her unborn children, but now Uncle Scrooge too?
Don't get her wrong, she loved her twin and he was just as excited for her kids as she was. He was going to great lengths to learn all the things he could to be the best Uncle-slash-father-figure her boys would ever have. It was really sweet, but she felt like he was going overboard with all this concern for the boys' safety when they haven't even hatched yet. Heck, the guy went into a panic and baby proofed the entire mansion, magic artifacts and all, within a week after hearing she was pregnant. He even strapped pillows to her, telling her that with how reckless she was, he wasn't going to take any chances with hers and the boys' well beings at stake.
For Selene's sake, SHE was the one who was supposed to have the overprotective and nesting tendencies, not him, what the heck?!
Speaking of nesting, she should go check on her boys.
She slipped the plans into a drawer, making sure to slip them under a false bottom, just in case anyone realized that the plans were missing, and got up to stretch, smiling.
It felt SO good to be able to walk around again, carrying three eggs for that long was awful. She could hardly walk or move very much for at least a month. Donnie was a huge help there, but she hated feeling so helpless, she was used to being a woman of action, constantly on the move. But during that time, she was a lump.
An irritable, emotional lump.
Laying the eggs had been hell and she broke poor Donald's hand doing it (not that he said a single non-encouraging word the whole time she did it, best twin ever). She was so glad the hard part was done and that she now just had to wait for them to hatch…
All three of them.
At once.
She swallowed.
Donald had taken her to several parenting courses and how to care for baby classes and talking with doctors about possible complications with having triplets and taking her to first aid classes and he'd been helping her look into daycare and helping her get all the stuff she'd need for three babies.
Scrooge had been talking to her about what she wanted to do for college funds and medical insurance and such…
There was so much stuff she never really thought about when it came to taking care of a kid.
And she was going to have three.
Growing up, she thought if she ever did have a kid, if she loved them and showed them that she cared that it would be enough. But there was SO much more to it than that just to raise and care for one child.
And she was going to have three.
And there was a chance that, even if she did all this stuff the way she was supposed to, her kids wouldn't turn out well or could hate her by the time they're grown up.
And she was going to have three!
She sucked in a breath as she got up and walked to her door.
Donald said he'd help and he'd meant it. She knew he would do anything for her boys because, that's just how he was. He loved and took care of his family, he did things even if he didn't want to because she asked him to or needed him…
Scrooge would be there too, and Ducksworth…
But Scrooge didn't really raise them, honestly, he gave them a home, made sure they had good education, made sure they had access to good health care and paid for anything they needed. But he didn't raise them, per say. Their parents had raised them to be how they were. Scrooge didn't really know how to help them with emotional stuff and he honestly wasn't the best to go to when it came to ethics. He believed in earning one's keep and doing so 'square', but that didn't mean that his business transactions hadn't delved into the grey area every now and then to get what he wanted or that he always did the right thing just because it was the right thing to do.
And then there were Scrooge's enemies.
Inside the mansion was safe, but what about everywhere else?
Della suddenly wished that Donald hadn't already baby proofed everything because now she had all this anxious energy and had no outlet to channel it into.
Nothing constructive anyway.
She quickly walked into the hallway and began picking up her pace to the nursery. Why was it so razza-frazzin' far from her room anyway? Oh, right, because she wanted the nursery to have a nice big window for her kids to be able to see the stars from and to see the lights of Duckburg below at night.
She wondered if Donnie could help her move all of the baby stuff to the room next to hers with the very small windows… wait, no! No! That would make the nursery more like a prison. She wanted it to be bright and sunny and the mansion had great security. And she and Donald and Scrooge would keep them safe.
Yeah, she would be a great mom! No, the best Mom! She could do this! So it was scary, so what? She'd faced dangers most people would only have nightmares about and came out on top! She was Della Duck! And nothing stops Della Duck!
Not even three boys.
She stopped outside the nursery and smiled. Yeah, everything was safe and fine, she and her family would make sure it would be and then when the boys hatched, they'd all go on adventures again and show them the world!
She was then about to open the door when she heard the sound of a guitar from the other side of the door.
Donald.
She opened it and saw him sitting next to the massive pillow where her eggs sat in the warm sunlight. A serious expression on his face, his guitar on his lap and a few sheets of lined paper around him and a pencil by his side as he began strumming a few notes and mumbling something to himself.
"What are you doing?" she asked, making him jump and fall and smacked his head against one of the changing tables they had set up in the room.
He grumbled something about how she needed to learn how to knock as he rubbed the back of his head. He then checked to make sure his guitar was still in one piece (it was) and then looked at her, embarrassed.
"Hiding something Donnie?" She teased.
"…I was working on a lullaby." He admitted, "I wanted to surprise you with it. I'm making it for us to sing to them whenever they feel lost or upset or scared. To let them know that their family loves them and that everything will be okay." He stared at her eggs with a determined expression. He was going to make sure those boys always knew they were loved and if anyone dared so much as look at her boys funny, her brother would throw hands, among other things.
Not that she wouldn't too, but his fights were more amusing to watch.
She smiled and walked over and picked up one of the pages to see it was one of those papers people wrote music on, although what the notes on the page sounded like was a mystery to her. She couldn't read music. She could read English, Italian, French, German and several ancient and dead languages, but music was a whole other animal.
"Can I hear it?" She asked.
He looked sheepishly at his guitar, "I'm not done yet…"
"That wasn't what I asked." She said plainly, trying out a new 'I'm a mom, I'm in charge' expression that she'd been working on for a few days now on him.
He gave her a flat look and mumbled about how 'you still don't understand a musician's soul, Dumbella…' but still played a pretty, gentle tune for her that made her smile.
"I love it." she said when he finished. He blinked, surprised at the praise. Growing up he'd written many songs, many of which were not her kind of music, so hearing her say she liked it was surprising to him.
"T-thank you." He said softly, "But I still need to work on the actual words of the song. I wanted it to be like mom's lullaby to us when we were little, you know? What she wanted us to never forget. The things that are most important. That kind of stuff." He looked down at the papers spread out before him.
"Can I help?" She asked softly. He looked up at her, surprised that she'd want to work on anything music related.
Rude. She liked music too. She wasn't as into it Donald, or you know, good at playing anything or anything like that, but she liked it.
"What? If it's like Mom's, then shouldn't I be the one to help with the lyrics?" She argued.
He considered her point, then sighed, "Fine, but I have the right to veto anything that sounds bad."
She stuck out her tongue, then motioned for him to give her a fresh sheet of paper and the pencil as she took the seat beside him.
"Okay, so how do you write a song, Mr. Bigshot?" she asked him.
He paused, as if trying to think of a way to explain his oh so complicated process, "Honestly, when I do it, I just play a melody and just say how I feel. Or what's on my mind."
Huh, that was simpler than she thought. With all his grumbling and pouting, she would have thought there was more to it.
She leaned back a bit and closed her eyes.
What was on her mind… something important… how I feel…
The Spear of Selene popped into her head.
The stars…
The unknown…
Adventure…
"Della?" Donald called, "Della? You there?" He called, "you've been out of it for a while now and you're scaring me."
She scowled and swatted at him before opening her eyes, "I think I got an idea… Donnie, can you play the song again? But slower this time?" She asked.
He nodded and played as the words left her beak;
'Look to the stars my darling baby boys
Life is strange and vast
Filled with wonders and joys
Face each new sun with eyes clear and true
Unafraid of the unknown
Because I'll face it all with you'
The gentle thrum of the guitar faded on the last word and the two of them looked at one another, smiling broadly.
It was perfect.
"Not bad for your first time." He said as he began playing the song again. She punched his arm and they chuckled as he rubbed his arm.
"Hey Donnie?" She asked.
"Yeah?"
"You think I'll make a good Mom?" She asked.
He looked at her, surprised by the question.
"It's not that I don't love them or something like that!" she assured him, "It's just, there is just so much to do and they're not even here yet. I don't know how I'll handle one baby, let alone three. I'm scared that I'll mess up or that they'll hate me."
Donald moved his guitar off his lap and put his arm around his sister, "You'll be fine! And you have me and Uncle Scrooge and Ducksworth and we can ask Grandma and Gladstone and Fethry. We have Gus and Abner if we're desperate." She chuckled a bit at that.
"And we can ask Jose or Panchito or Mickey or Minnie, and Goofy's got a family too! He's great with Max, maybe we could ask him for pointers. Maybe we can have play dates? I bet he'd love other kids to play with when we have our get togethers!"
"Max is pretty energetic." She agreed, "Maybe they can wear each other out?"
"Yeah!" Donald laughed before giving her shoulder a comforting rub, "You'll be a great mom, Della, the boys names not withstanding."
She scowled at him. There was nothing wrong with the names she picked! Jet, Turbo and Rebel were awesome names! What kid wouldn't want them when they grew up?
"And we have lots of people who can help us when we need it." He finished, ignoring her glare, "Everything will be fine, Della, you're not alone in this. These Ducks don't back down, remember?"
She smiled, glad he was talking reason, "Yeah. Thanks Donnie." She said, starring at her eggs.
"Family is the greatest adventure." She recited, trying to crush this uneasy feeling that had been growing since she found out she was a mom with the words.
"Family is the greatest adventure." Donald agreed, his glee sparkling in his eyes, "And these boys are in good hands, just you wait and see!"