"Now, now. Be good, my dear." Sielaire adjusts Astaire in her arms, hugging the girl more securely before she falls to the ground. Astaire has grown fussy near the end of their five-day carriage ride to the outskirts of Dusk, obviously tired of having to sit still for so long. She's swinging her feet and whining at Sielaire, who holds onto her little fist and coos, "Just a little more, Astaire. Then we can see your aunt Alwin."
"Alwy," Astaire repeats off-handedly as she whips her head about, trying to catch sight of her aunt.
"That's right. We're going to see Aunt Alwy." Sielaire shares a smile with Ayrenn, who hooks a hand around her elbow, as they're escorted through the manor's immaculate garden by Alwinarwe's personal attendants. They've taken some time off to visit their beloved cousin at her private estate, and steal a quiet holiday for themselves after the recent hectic months of tending to the empire.
They stroll across the garden at a leisurely pace, taking their time to admire the new sculptures and topiaries that Alwinarwe has acquired, allowing Astaire to touch some as they go along. When they've entered the foyer, allowing the attendants to take their travel coats, they look up to find Alwin walking down the plush red runner of the grand staircase, her typically cool expression softened by a gentle smile.
"Look, Star," Sielaire sings to Astaire, patting the girl's back to catch her attention. When curious blue eyes look to her, she turns on the spot and directs Astaire's gaze towards Alwinarwe. "See? That's–"
"Alwy!" Astaire gushes excitedly and reaches out to her, chubby fingers grasping at the air. "Alwy!"
"Astaire," Alwin greets the little one, her smile growing brighter as she takes Astaire from Sielaire, and carries the ten-month-old comfortably in her arms. "My dear little Star's finally come to visit."
Astaire giggles when Alwin tickles under her chin, then kisses the girl on her forehead. Alwin runs a hand down Astaire's short blond locks, and turns to accept the warm embrace Ayrenn gives her.
"It's good to see you again," Ayrenn says, giving a peck on Alwin's cheek.
"As always," Alwin replies, her voice still soft enough that it makes Sielaire worry as she clasps Alwin's hand.
Alwinarwe had returned to her private estate over a month ago, and only at Sielaire's insistence after she'd collapsed while walking to a meeting. When Ayrenn had been away, tending to the empire from her seat in the Imperial City, Alwinarwe governed Summerset with Sielaire. But she'd taken such strain on herself with so little rest in the past months, that the over-exertion finally took its toll.
Sielaire had rushed to her bedside immediately, and was frightened by how pale Alwin had appeared then. Though she pulled through without complication, Sielaire put her weight behind the healers' advice, and ordered Alwin to step down from her duties until she has fully recovered. The Proxy Queen was forced to yield – not without her fair share of complaints – and Sielaire had personally escorted her to the carriage that brought her far away from Alinor and its troubles.
Though Sielaire had been worried sending Alwin off by herself, she's glad to see it was the right decision. Alwinarwe does look a little thinner, but also much more calm and relaxed with her sandy blonde hair loose about her shoulders, a healthy flush on her cheeks, and a mellow yet attentive gaze.
"Come, let's head to the parlour," Alwin says, leading them up the staircase. "I've had the chefs prepare afternoon tea for us."
"Ah, how dear of you," Ayrenn croons, and Sielaire can't help but smile when Alwin sighs at her cousin.
They enter the parlour – modest in size compared to those in the palace, but it's still furnished with the richest woods, rare paintings, elegant silver sconces, and a crystal-studded chandelier. Making themselves comfortable in the chaise longues, Ayrenn and Sielaire sit together in one chaise, while Alwin makes herself comfortable with Astaire, who refuses to sit anywhere except her aunt's lap.
"Is it me, or is Star getting a little spoiled?" Ayrenn muses out loud, leaning back in her seat at complete ease.
"Or she just really likes Alwin," Sielaire jokes off-handedly, distracted when a cat with smooth tawny fur leaps up onto the chaise beside her. Sielaire smiles, sating its need for attention with languid strokes down its back.
Alwin has recently taken to adopting cats of her own, though she only ever has a maximum of two at any given time. To everyone's surprise, she'd named her first cat 'Razum-dar', and since then all her cats have shared a similar name; this one sitting with Sielaire is called 'Razum-dum', inspired by the cat's amazing propensity at falling into Alwin's pond…despite its severe aversion to water.
Razum-dum purrs contentedly from Sielaire's attention, before it's chased away by the head chef, who has come to present the afternoon's platter of cakes, pastries and tea to their honoured guests. Astaire promptly perks up when she spots a particular plate stacked with her favourite snack – special golden-brown crackers which are baked soft enough for the young one to chew, yet with a crispy texture that provides some fun while eating.
"Do you want a cracker, Star?" Alwin asks, picking the single cracker on top of the neat stack.
Astaire nods fervently, practically vibrating with excitement when Alwin places the cracker in her hand. She brings it to her mouth eagerly, and chomps off an entire half of the cracker – much to her family's amusement.
"Slowly, Star," Alwin chuckles, wiping the crumbs from Astaire's mouth with a napkin. "There's many more where that came from."
"Do you like the crackers, Astaire?" Ayrenn sings to her, while Sielaire helps herself to a scone. "Are the crackers nice?"
Astaire babbles in reply and shoves the rest of the cracker into her mouth.
"Aunt Alwin had them made for you, Star. Isn't that nice?" Ayrenn continues, and Sielaire has an inkling where this is going. "Alwin loves you a lot. Do you love your aunt Alwin, Star?" She tries prodding Astaire into a game they've recently picked up, but Astaire only stares back at her mother with wide, guileless eyes. "You know how mama loves you? Yes! That's how I…love…you–"
"Lowe yoo!" Astaire yells, having caught on. "Lo–, lowe!"
"See, Alwin?" Ayrenn grins at her cousin. "Star loves you so much."
"Lowe Alwy!"
Alwinarwe laughs softly, a smile parting her lips as she presses a kiss to the top of Astaire's head. "I love you too, little Star."
Astaire giggles, and clutches onto Alwin's arms as her aunt wraps her in a hug.
They spend two days in Alwinarwe's estate, simply indulging in luxury afforded by the vast manor and its open grounds. Since it is Astaire's first visit here, they take their time to bring her around the manor, exploring its different floors and rooms, before she finds a favourite in the playroom that Alwin has set aside for her. And when they're not keeping the girl entertained with toys and magic, they're strolling through the estate's expansive garden, playing hide-and-seek in the small hedge maze – though they did have to 'rescue' Astaire once, when the girl started bawling because she was lost and hadn't seen her mothers or aunt for much too long.
When they've had their fill of lounging at home, they decide to make a two-day visit to Sil-Var-Woad – home to Summerset's only zoo, and the Royal Menagerie. It is Astaire's first visit here as well, and her curiosity is constantly piqued by a whole variety of animals that she can never see in the pristine capital of Alinor. Ayrenn carries Astaire close to the sturdy metal bars of the enclosures, keeping a firm grip on the girl's hands to prevent her from reaching out to the animals, as she had done with the first lion they viewed.
Astaire stares up at the giant tusked creature with her mouth open, then turns to Ayrenn and babbles pointedly.
"Yes, darling. That's a mammoth," Ayrenn confirms. "They've very big and strong. And their milk makes rather good cheese as well."
"Really?" Alwinarwe asks, regarding the mammoth dubiously. "One would think its cheese would be heavy…and smelly."
"Oh, yes. It's quite pungent, but pair it with the right ale and meats, and it's delightful." Ayrenn smiles when Alwin still looks unconvinced, and she turns to Sielaire for support. "Have you tried it, love?"
Sielaire's face scrunches up a little. "Yes, but I had nothing to pair it with at the time. Only cheap mead."
"Ah. Did you keep it down?"
"Barely."
"My, oh my," Ayrenn laughs. "Your stomachs are much too Altmer for their own good."
"That's not necessarily a bad thing," Alwin retorts.
"If you say so, Alwin dear," Ayrenn humours her as they move on from the mammoth enclosure, heading towards the Royal Menagerie where rarer species are kept.
They admire the vicious-looking Dunerippers from the Alik'r Desert, the docile echatere from Wrothgar, and two proud gryphons native to the Summerset Isle. Sielaire eyes the gryphons with nearly as much distrust as they regard her with, and Ayrenn deems it wise to lead her wife away from the enclosure, before lightning of the green variety strikes within menagerie grounds.
Their last stop is the indrik enclosure – the only one they are able to enter, due to the tame nature of the indriks within the compound. Ayrenn feels a slight twinge upon seeing the majestic, feathered creatures – Lotus had passed on a few years back, and she regrets not spending more time with her old playmate before they were parted. Since then, Ayrenn has decided not to adopt another pet from the menagerie, knowing the crown wouldn't spare her that luxury of time. Astaire, on the other hand, might appreciate having an animal companion while she's young. Perhaps even treat it better, instead of flying off on whim…
Ayrenn brings Astaire close to one indrik, which has been watching them with interest since they entered the enclosure. Petting the indrik's head to ensure that it is indeed harmless, Ayrenn then guides Astaire's hand to the indrik, and gets her accustomed to stroking its head. Astaire coos a few baby words, and the indrik gives a soft snort in reply, gentle eyes fixed on the little girl. Ayrenn moves Astaire's hand to the side so she can scratch the side of the indrik's head, and it closes its eyes, tilting its head up in satisfaction.
"Looks like Astaire's making a friend," Sielaire says, coming to stand beside them. "An indrik, hm? They must be a favourite of royal heirs."
Ayrenn snorts, knocking her shoulder into Sielaire's. "They are very beautiful creatures, after all." She pets the indrik again, and hums thoughtfully. "Maybe we should get one for Star. On her…fifth birthday, perhaps?"
Sielaire tilts her head, nodding in agreement. "Sounds perfect."
They retire to the modest, rustic cottages near Sil-Var-Woad later in the day, to rest their feet and allow Astaire to take a much needed nap. The two cousins pass the time with idle chatter, while Sielaire ventures out for a quiet trek in the woods nearby. When she returns an hour later, just as the sun is setting, she finds that Astaire has already woken up and is fussing for food, sated with a small serving of milk that will last her until dinner is served.
The pavilion in the backyard is where they have their meal, with a chef grilling meats and vegetables in the open air, before plating them for the royals seated around the table. For the adults, choice cuts of succulent meat are paired with a mix of imported and local vegetables, while Astaire has her own special platter of semi-solid fruits and carefully shredded pieces of fish which are easy to chew. To go with her baby food is a full bottle of warm milk, which the adults clink with their wine glasses in a playful toast.
The night's dinner is perhaps more splendid than any meal Sielaire has ever had in the palace, thanks to the laidback atmosphere and the presence of cherished family. She's free to lean back in her seat, and twine her fingers with Ayrenn's beneath the table, wearing a lazy smile as she watches Alwin feed Astaire the last of her fruit mash. Sielaire turns her gaze to Ayrenn when her wife places a kiss on her knuckles, and that knowing gleam in Ayrenn's eyes makes her heart skip a beat in anticipation.
As they return to the cottages, Sielaire hangs back while Ayrenn hastens to stop Alwinarwe in her tracks.
"Alwin, dear. Wait." Ayrenn wears that sweet smile of hers, and clasps Alwin's hands in her own. "We were wondering if you'd like to have Astaire for the night."
Alwin frowns briefly, then comprehension dawns on her face. "You mean, to have Astaire sleep with me tonight?"
"Yes. You know I've been away for months. And since I've been back, Sielaire and I hadn't really the time to–"
"No! No," Alwin cuts in loudly, raising a hand to stop Ayrenn's explanation. "I don't need to know." She bends down to the girl who's been toddling beside them, and lifts Astaire easily into her arms. "Astaire shall sleep in my cottage tonight. That is all," Alwin declares, and climbs the steps to her abode without waiting for a reply. "Come, little Star. You can share Aunt Alwin's bed tonight. Say bye-bye to your mama."
Astaire turns her head to gaze after her mothers, waving happily in farewell. Sielaire feels a little guilty as Alwin carries her away, but then Ayrenn tugs on her hand, and she feels her blood pump faster as her wife leads the way back to their own quarters.
Quietly, they enter the cottage together, their lackadaisical mood falling away at the audible click, when Sielaire locks the front door behind them. She keeps her gaze trained on Ayrenn, who turns around to face her, with a faint smile on her lips. Ayrenn's hands come to rest on Sielaire's hips when she walks close – and doesn't stop, forcing Ayrenn to follow her lead, walking backwards into the bedroom. Sielaire stares back into blue irises which are gazing into her own, trying to fathom her intentions when she makes no move to speak, or even touch Ayrenn.
Slowly, she lets a small smile curve her lips, and murmurs, "Six months. You've been away for six months."
"I know," Ayrenn replies, equally quiet.
"You've been staying away for much too long, Your Majesty." Sielaire drops her voice to a lower timbre, and she feels Ayrenn's fingers dig slightly into her hips. "I'm starting to wonder if you'd forgotten about your family. That you have a wife waiting for you back home."
Ayrenn's lips part as her hip bumps into the dresser. "Of course I do," she whispers, their breaths mixing together when her wife leans close. "I think about you every day."
Her eyes flicker up to Sielaire's, searching, before she seals their lips in a kiss. Sielaire basks in the tenderness, returning her wife's kiss with equal softness. Ayrenn's hands slide up her sides as she deepens the kiss, tasting wine on Ayrenn's lips when she teases with her tongue, then delves in to make her claim. Ayrenn moans quietly in approval, her hand slipping up to Sielaire's nape to pull her closer, their kisses growing harder, fiercer.
Sielaire growls as her hands reach down to cup Ayrenn's ass, then lifts her wife easily from the ground, placing her on top of the dresser. She claims Ayrenn's lips again and again, barely giving Ayrenn enough time to breathe her name in full. But as she's undoing her wife's dress, Sielaire is given pause when Ayrenn places a hand on her chest, and pushes firmly.
Breaking away with reluctance, Sielaire looks at her wife in silent question. Ayrenn merely smirks and raises a hand – glowing blue. Their suitcase snaps open behind them, and Sielaire looks back just in time to see the black harness fly into Ayrenn's outstretched hand. Sielaire stares at it in mute surprise, then shoots Ayrenn an incredulous look.
"You've planned for this, haven't you?" Sielaire asks, and Ayrenn's smirk grows wider.
"I am the Empress, my dear. Nothing happens that is not of my design."
Sielaire's heart beats faster at how absolute Ayrenn sounds – a secret weakness her wife loves to play with. But she doesn't give in immediately, and merely cocks her head in subtle rebellion.
"Pants off, Sielaire."
Sharing Ayrenn's smirk, Sielaire gives her this one concession. She takes a step back and undresses herself slowly, with Ayrenn's smouldering gaze fixed on her as she unbuckles her belt, pops the button of her pants open, and rids herself of all clothing from the waist down. Ayrenn wears a smile as she hands the harness to Sielaire, and helps her wife strap it firmly about her hips and ass. She cups a hand between Sielaire's thighs, where a smooth round metal piece hugs her clit snugly, its surface engraved with lesser-known runes that light up with a simple application of magic. Sielaire feels that familiar, tingling sensation at her clit as the magic melds with her nerves, and coalesces into a solid phallus of the same azure colour as Ayrenn's magicka.
Sielaire has to grip the edges of the dresser when Ayrenn wraps lithe fingers around her length, feeling acutely her wife squeezing her – not too tight, just enough to whet her appetite. Ayrenn lifts the hem of her dress and tugs Sielaire forward, her wife following until she's close enough to press her head against Ayrenn's entrance. But when Ayrenn tries to pull her further in, Sielaire stops, and doesn't yield even as her wife starts to massage her with that delicious pressure under her fingers.
Ayrenn cocks a brow. "Sielaire."
"So impatient," Sielaire murmurs, leaning in to kiss her with a gentleness she knows is driving Ayrenn crazy.
A growl rumbles from Ayrenn's throat as she pulls Sielaire into a heated kiss – a command that Sielaire disregards entirely. Gripping the hand still stroking her hardness, Sielaire tugs it away as she trails lips and teeth down the length of Ayrenn's neck, sucking hard at the pulse point before sinking her teeth into flesh. She feels Ayrenn take a breath beneath her lips, and smiles as she moves ever lower, kissing and nipping at her wife's skin. Ayrenn fights against Sielaire's grip on her captive hand, but her resistance only stokes a simmering desire, and Sielaire grabs her other hand, locking Ayrenn's wrists behind her back.
But she gives Ayrenn another concession, and slides her entire length against Ayrenn's growing wetness, slicking the surface of her throbbing magicka.
"Sie…" Ayrenn groans, arching her chest as Sielaire's mouth moves down to her cleavage, all the while grinding slowly against her.
Sielaire doesn't reply, taking her time to pull Ayrenn's dress down from her shoulders, to reveal her chest in full. She takes a breast into her mouth, sucking and swirling her tongue around the nipple.
"Sie. Damn it."
She releases Ayrenn's breast, places another kiss on her chest, then shoots Ayrenn a smirk as she bunches the dress about her wife's waist. Sielaire kneels down and brings her mouth to Ayrenn's core, kissing and swirling her tongue in all the right ways, that leaves Ayrenn moaning and rolling her hips against Sielaire's face. Sielaire groans hungrily into her wife's wetness, sinking her tongue as deeply as it'll go, then raises her lips to lavish attention on Ayrenn's little bundle of nerves.
Sielaire adds her fingers to the mix, sucking and licking Ayrenn's clit while she thrusts with two digits, Ayrenn growing ever wetter under her attention. Fingers twine with dark red locks and grip them tightly, setting a pace that Sielaire gladly follows, and Ayrenn rides her wife's mouth surely towards climax–
Blue eyes fly open when she is just on the edge, and Ayrenn glares down at Sielaire, who has broken away before granting her wife sweet pleasure.
Sielaire flashes a crooked grin as she rises to her feet, pulling Ayrenn's thighs farther apart. "Forgetting something?"
She sinks her shaft into Ayrenn without ceremony, her wife's head falling back as a lewd moan escapes her, mixing with Sielaire's groan as Ayrenn accepts her entire length easily, slick walls gripping Sielaire like a well-made sheath.
"Gods, Renn," Sielaire utters into her ear, and Ayrenn takes a shuddering breath, hugging her about the shoulders.
"You feel so good, Sie," Ayrenn breathes. "Now fuck me, love. Fuck me, take me–"
Sielaire snarls, deep and guttural, as she pulls her hips back and drives hard into Ayrenn, any intent of teasing her wife forgotten. But she paces herself, pumping into Ayrenn with steady rhythm, hearing that short, breathy moan in her ear each time she sinks up to the hilt. Ayrenn turns her head, lips searching blindly for Sielaire's, and they meet in a needy, open-mouthed kiss.
"More, Sie," Ayrenn pants, pressing her heels into the small of Sielaire's back. "More."
That gets a chuckle from Sielaire, who gives one last thrust of her hips, before pulling out of Ayrenn.
"Oh, Sie–!" Ayrenn's reproach is cut off when Sielaire hitches her about her hips, capturing Ayrenn's lips in a hard kiss before Sielaire tosses her carelessly onto the bed. Ayrenn grins as Sielaire climbs in after her, roughly yanking the dress from her body, leaving her bare. Tossing the dress aside, Sielaire tugs her shirt up and off her head as well, throwing it to the floor where it's shortly joined by her bra.
Sielaire runs an appreciative eye over Ayrenn's bare body – softer now, but still toned from regular exercise. She places both hands above Ayrenn's thighs, and slowly slides her palms over her lover's lightly-scarred skin, reaching up to cup and knead her breasts.
"Sie," Ayrenn purrs, grasping Sielaire's hips and pulling her forward. "Stop playing, and take me."
"Orders, orders." Sielaire clicks her tongue, leaning down as her hand slides up to rest on Ayrenn's neck. "Is that all you know to give?"
Ayrenn smirks, guiding Sielaire's hardness between her thighs, where her wife slips in without argument. But before Sielaire can start moving, Ayrenn flips them over, so she's straddling her lover.
"I give orders, my dear, because you take them so well." Ayrenn rocks her hips against Sielaire, who grips onto her sides in return. "You take them as well as I take you."
Ayrenn lifts herself and brings her hips down firmly, Sielaire groaning through gritted teeth as she bucks up against her lover. She loses control for a while as Ayrenn rides her expertly, swaying her hips at just the right angles that make Sielaire's toes curl. Then her hands finally find purchase on Ayrenn's hips, and she digs her nails in, wresting control from her wife by driving into Ayrenn, breaking her dominant streak. Ayrenn gasps, and clings onto Sielaire's shoulders for balance while her wife fucks her at a merciless pace from below.
Sielaire catches Ayrenn's hand reaching for her, and she slows down, giving her wife a chance to breathe. She presses her lips to Ayrenn's knuckles, then sits up and reaches for her nape, pulling her into a deep, loving kiss. Ayrenn's lust-hazed eyes soften with the smile on her lips, before Sielaire takes her by surprise, tossing her face-down onto the bed. She grabs Ayrenn's hips and hauls her onto her knees, slipping two fingers into Ayrenn first, before replacing it with her full length.
Ayrenn's moans are mixed with whimpers when Sielaire pounds into her from behind. She props herself up on her elbows, when Sielaire's fingers run through her blonde hair and grabs a fistful, tugging her head back. Sielaire's name falls from Ayrenn's lips like sweetest honey, and she regrets not seeing her wife's face, to watch each bit of pleasure overtake Ayrenn's features with each hard thrust into her silky warmth.
Sielaire growls at the thought, and brings a hand down on Ayrenn's ass, getting an approving whine from her wife. She slows down again, this time to trail kisses up Ayrenn's lower back, between her shoulder blades, and on her nape before biting Ayrenn playfully on the shoulder.
Nuzzling up to Ayrenn's cheek, she murmurs, "You may be the Empress now, my love." Sielaire reaches down, massaging Ayrenn's clit. "But you will always be my. Spoiled. Little. Queen." She punctuates each word with a thrust, and the whines in Ayrenn's throat grow louder. "Aren't you, darling?"
"Yes. Yes, please, Sie," Ayrenn moans, holding onto the wrist of Sielaire's hand between her thighs. "Fuck me. Fuck your Queen."
Ayrenn rocks her hips back, and the last of Sielaire's restraint snaps. She drives her cock into Ayrenn's warmth, pounding so hard that their skin will surely be reddened after. But she doesn't notice, doesn't care – all she knows is how deliciously tight Ayrenn feels around her stiffness, and she needs her lover in full, now.
Sielaire pulls out again and pushes Ayrenn onto her back, positioning herself at Ayrenn's slit, and thrusts deep.
"I love you," Ayrenn gasps as she wraps both legs around Sielaire, who takes pause at the sudden, tender confession.
She gazes down at her wife – blue eyes darkened with lust, cheeks flushed with need, lips wet and reddened from Sielaire's rough attentions. Heart overtaken by love, Sielaire kisses her, twining her fingers with Ayrenn's. "I love you too."
Her hips start moving against Ayrenn again, and she doesn't plan to stop this time. Sielaire plunges in fully with each thrust, groaning as she hits that sweet spot in Ayrenn's slick walls; and all the while, she can only focus on Ayrenn's fingers gripping desperately onto hers, panting Sielaire's name like a mantra, and her own heat growing hotter amid Ayrenn's utter wetness.
"Oh gods, Sie!" Ayrenn wraps her legs tight around Sielaire as her body locks up, eyes rolling back, and she cries to the ceiling, "Sielaire!"
Sielaire buries her face in Ayrenn's neck, all sense driven from her mind when Ayrenn's walls clamp tightly onto her. She can only spare a few more thrusts before sheathing herself fully in Ayrenn, climax crashing over her like a heavy tide. Her hips shudder against Ayrenn as she rides out the pleasure, then lets herself go limp on top of her wife, panting with her head on Ayrenn's shoulder. Sielaire dozes for a while, before she gathers herself, feeling Ayrenn's fingers running gently through her hair.
Pushing herself up onto her elbows, she gazes down at Ayrenn, sharing an affectionate smile and brushing their lips together.
"That was…"
Ayrenn hums. "Maybe I should go away more often…"
"Don't you dare," Sielaire warns, though her stern expression quickly falls away as they laugh breathlessly together. She presses another kiss to Ayrenn's lips, then another.
"I love you."
They fall asleep easily in each other's arms, and Ayrenn wakes in the morning to find Sielaire's verdant eyes already open, gazing at her with the faintest, sleepy smile on her lips. Judging by the brightness of the sunlight pouring through their windows, they've overslept, but neither feel any need to hurry, washing up at leisure on a tranquil morning. When they've dressed and tidied up, they share a soft kiss together, then head out of their cottage hand-in-hand.
After finishing a breakfast freshly prepared by the chef, they stroll down the stone path leading to a small garden just south of Sil-Var-Woad, where they find Alwinarwe and Astaire at a pergola overlooking the eastern strait. Astaire is sitting on a bench beside Alwin, and grasping clumsily at the puzzle box her aunt is holding for her. But the girl quickly forgets about the toy when she spots her mothers walking into the pergola, and she squeals 'Mama!' happily as Sielaire swoops in and lifts her high into the air.
"Careful, Sie," Ayrenn says, resting a hand on Astaire's back as Sielaire settles the girl comfortably in the crook of her arm. With a smile, Ayrenn kisses the top of Astaire's wind-blown locks.
"Want to go for a walk, Star?" Sielaire asks, and Astaire merely giggles in reply, snuggling up to her mother.
Ayrenn returns the kiss Sielaire presses to her lips, and watches her wife carry Astaire out into the sunlight. Breathing a contented sigh, Ayrenn takes a seat beside Alwin, giving her cousin a one-armed hug. "Oh, Alwin. Thanks for your help last night. You wouldn't believe how much we needed–"
"No," Alwin interrupts. "I told you, I don't want to know." She rolls her eyes when Ayrenn winks at her.
"But I am being serious, Alwin," Ayrenn says, even with the impish curve on her lips. "I'm glad Astaire has you, as well. Gods know how much the throne keeps her mothers away from her."
"I understand." Alwin tilts her head in thought, falling silent as they watch Astaire toddle across the green grass, with Sielaire holding her hands. "When I was in Alinor with Sie…it was a struggle just to steal some time with Astaire."
"Well. To be fair, it was a very busy period…" Ayrenn's voice drifts off when a messenger walks up to the pergola, and bows low to them. She waves him forward, and he walks in respectfully.
"Your Majesty, I apologise for the interruption," he says, bowing again. "But I bring a letter for Lady Alwinarwe."
Alwin frowns. "I said I'm to receive no correspondence while I'm on sabbatical."
"Yes. My deepest apologies, Your Grace. But it is from your mother, the Kinlady–"
Alwin lets out a short, near-inaudible groan as she waves the messenger over. "Stay there," she commands, taking the letter from his hands. A deep frown creases her forehead as she reads it, then refolds the parchment with a few cutting motions. She thrusts the letter back at the messenger and says, "Burn it. And bring just one word back to my mother: 'No.'"
Ayrenn assumes this messenger has been with Alwinarwe's family for a long time, because he appears unfazed by Alwin's instructions, and accepts her orders with a smile and a polite bow of his head.
"So," Ayrenn drawls as the messenger hastens away from the pergola. "What does auntie dearest want this time?"
"What does she ever want with me?" Alwin replies curtly. "She's arranged a private luncheon with some Kinlord's son, and expects me to be there on Turdas."
"She's still playing the matchmaker?" Ayrenn asks, not even pretending to be surprised. "I thought you told her that you've no intention of marrying?"
"Apparently her hearing can be very selective when she wants it to be. She keeps talking about our lineage, how I need children of my own, and I am so sick of hearing it!" A silver bolt of magic flies from Alwin's hand, and splashes harmlessly onto the ground.
Ayrenn wraps her arm around Alwin again, rubbing at her shoulder soothingly as Alwin takes deep breaths to calm herself down. Much like Sielaire, patience is one of Alwinarwe's strong points. When either of them loses their temper, it's a sure sign they're being stretched to the very limit.
"It's alright, Alwin. You don't need to have one if you don't want to. Besides," Ayrenn croons, giving her cousin a squeeze. "If your mother insists, just remind her that you're the Proxy Queen – and you already have a Proxy Heir."
That gets a snort from Alwin, who relents with a short laugh. "You're unbelievable," she says, glancing at where Astaire now sits on the grass with Sielaire, focused on something in Sielaire's hands.
"Or – how about this? I will keep your family off your back. Personally."
Alwin raises a brow, thinking. "You won't see them until…our dinner next week?"
"Yes. I will tell them in no uncertain terms, that my beloved cousin Alwinarwe shall have no child of her own, unless she wishes it."
Alwin laughs again. "You really don't have to, Ayrenn. But…it'll be something to see."
"That's the spirit!" Ayrenn says. "Just leave it to me, Alwin. I'll watch out for you, just as you've always done for me."
A gentle smile curves Alwin's lips, as Ayrenn gives her a peck on the temple. She clasps Ayrenn's hand in thanks, before they turn their gazes to the pair entering the pergola. Sielaire is carrying Astaire, who's wearing a flower crown on her head, and clutches in her hand a small bunch of purple orchids – which she holds out to Ayrenn and Alwin.
"For both of you," Sielaire explains, and they take the flowers gladly.
"Thank you, little Star," Alwin coos, tapping on Astaire's nose and getting a giggle in response.
Ayrenn smiles as Sielaire places the girl in her lap. "My dearest little princess," Ayrenn sings as she wraps her daughter in a hug, and Astaire grins up at her, looking ever more precious with flowers in her blonde hair.
A/N: I know Dusk isn't a proper place, much less a city in the DLC. But in this fic, Alwin's family home there is a castle estate.
And it isn't explicitly stated here, but I headcanon Alwin to be ace - hence why she has no interest in a marriage, loveless or not, and absolutely doesn't intend to reproduce. (Works out too cos she won't have an heir who might want to compete for the throne lol)