It's been three hours since the sun has set, and though the night is still young for most mer, it certainly is not for one particular little girl still bouncing around happily in the Palace of Alinor. Just a few months ago, Astaire would've been in bed by this time; if not already asleep, then being tucked in by her mothers. But the two-year-old seems to be gathering quite a reservoir of energy as she grows – along with a streak of innocent rebellion that has her fighting against her established bedtime.
Too often has she jumped out of bed after being tucked in, and toddled into her parents' bedroom with a stuffed toy in hand and a bright grin on her face. And after pouting enough times when she was shooed back to bed, she is finally given free rein to decide her sleep schedule – albeit with guidance from her parents. One of whom is quite comfortable being strict with the little one, despite the pouts and whines. The other, though...not so much.
Sielaire lies on the padded floor of the playroom, propped up on her side against a pile of cushions, as she watches Astaire toddle about the mats with toys in her hands, gazing up at the glittering crystals of the chandelier above. It's a new installation that has captured the girl's wonder immediately, and she will often be distracted by the shimmering lights above her – not necessarily a bad thing, but it has caused her to trip and fall over her own feet on a couple of occasions.
"Astaire," Sielaire sings softly, and her voice catches Astaire's attention, the girl whirling around to look at her. Sielaire's heart stops for a moment when Astaire wobbles unsteadily from the sudden motion, but relaxes when she finds her balance again. "Watch where you're going, little Star."
Astaire may not fully understand what she's saying, but flashes a smile nevertheless. "Mama," she replies, before her gaze drops to the toys in her hands, and she plops herself onto the mat, playing pretend with the stuffed dog.
Sielaire smiles as Astaire holds the dog and gryphon aloft, one chasing after the other. With the child settled, Sielaire lowers her eyes to the one lying next to her, fast asleep. Ayrenn doesn't even stir at Astaire's occasional giggle and squeal, so exhausted is she from tending to matters of state. Despite Sielaire's chides, Ayrenn has caught little to no sleep at all for the last few days, and only allowed herself to crash onto her daughter's play mats, after everything has been settled.
Sighing softly, Sielaire combs her fingertips through Ayrenn's tresses, stroking her gently as she slumbers. She notes the lines of exhaustion under Ayrenn's eyes, and chapped lips from lack of water – Ayrenn has developed a habit of not touching any liquids when she is busy. On a few occasions, Sielaire had placed a cup of tea on her wife's desk in the morning, only to return near midnight to find the cup still full, sitting forgotten on the very same spot. Ayrenn would gulp it down upon noticing Sielaire's reproachful stare, but has obviously not taken this lesson to heart just yet.
Ghosting a thumb over Ayrenn's dry lips, Sielaire bends down to press a kiss to her wife's temple. At least Ayrenn has time to relax now, even if she is just catching up on sleep in the precious few hours she has dedicated to her family.
Sielaire nearly snickers at Ayrenn's sleepy snort, then reaches around to rub that spot below her nape, soothing her in slumber. Kneading Ayrenn's back gently, Sielaire looks up to find Astaire back on her feet, now bouncing and toddling about in a haphazard dance, with a blue rubber ball in her hands. Sielaire chuckles, while Astaire bounces the ball on the floor, somehow managing to catch it each time despite her slight lack of coordination.
Astaire is pretty engrossed in her new activity, trying to bounce the ball higher with each throw, and soon the ball springs back from the floor much too quickly for her to catch. She gapes after it in surprise, then her feet start to move forward, chasing after the ball that is bouncing out of her reach. Astaire breaks into a run, and before Sielaire can voice a warning, the child trips on her feet and lands face-down on the mats.
Sielaire jerks up from the cushions, barely noticing that she has jostled Ayrenn as she moves towards Astaire. But she lacks the urgency she would've carried months ago, when Astaire was still getting accustomed to walking. The girl has taken enough tumbles to know that she will be okay, and she doesn't break into loud wails as she had done before. Instead, Astaire lies still on the mats, and only starts to move at Sielaire's urging. Her mother clasps onto her shoulders, and smiles when Astaire whines in reply, as if reluctant to stand up on her own.
"Come, Star. Let's stand...up!" Sielaire grasps Astaire firmly under her arms, then lifts her up with enough speed to elicit an excited giggle and squeal. Setting the girl on her feet, Sielarie tweaks her nose. "See? It's so easy."
"Easy," Astaire repeats, raising her arms. "Mama, is easy."
A lazy chuckle behind Sielaire. "She's got that right."
Sielaire whips her head around and narrows her eyes at Ayrenn, who is still lying on the floor. Her wife's smile grows into a lewd smirk, and she beckons Sielaire over with a finger.
"Not with Star around," Sielaire huffs in amusement. She tries to carry Astaire in her arms, but the girl wriggles and kicks her legs, breaking free from Sielaire. "Star, darling. It's past your bedtime."
"Bedtime!" Astaire sings, kneeling down to collect her gryphon toy.
As the child moves around the mats to collect her toys, Sielaire shuffles back to Ayrenn, gladly falling into her wife's open arms. She plants kisses over Ayrenn's jaw, then catches her wife's lips in a kiss, smiling as Ayrenn pulls her deeper, slipping in for a taste. Sielaire parts from her with a hint of reluctance, though her heart skips at the sparkle in Ayrenn's eyes.
"Carry me to bed, Sie," Ayrenn whispers. "And I'll show you what I dreamt of."
Sielaire laughs under her breath. "Did you really?"
"Well, no," Ayrenn drawls, slinging both arms around Sielaire's neck. "I slept pretty heavily. But – I could show you what I dreamt of...before I fell asleep."
Her ears twitching under Ayrenn's caress, Sielaire's smile takes on a wicked curve, and she leans down to kiss Ayrenn once more. Soft and teasing, her heart beating quicker.
"Can't wait."
"See? Star's right – you are easy."
Sielaire rolls her eyes, untangling herself from Ayrenn with a scoff. She slaps at the hand reaching for her, and turns her gaze to find Astaire waiting with three stuffed toys in her arms.
"Ready for bedtime, Astaire?" Sielaire asks.
Astaire bounces on her feet, eager to go. "Yeah!"
The sun is mellow today – something Ayrenn is grateful for. Not that the sun ever bothers her much, and she welcomes hot sunshine on her skin, especially after being cooped up in the palace for much too long. But she doesn't assume the same of Astaire, whom she is still very protective of, no matter how much Sielaire tries to show her up in that area…without even trying.
Though Ayrenn is dressed casually in shirt and pants made of the lightest cotton, with her arms exposed to the elements, she has dressed Astaire more carefully, taking care to protect the child's tender skin from any chance of sunburn. If she feels warm, Astaire doesn't give any indication of it – her bright gaze is busy roving from face to face, building to building, in an attempt to take in Alinor all at once.
Ayrenn and Sielaire have ventured out into the city many times before, under a magical guise provided by the set of earrings they share, which alters their appearance to hide their true identity. It has worked well thus far, granting them many opportunities for quiet dates away from the palace, and Ayrenn has decided to bring Astaire out in the same manner. The girl wears a silver anklet which masks her hair beneath that same black shade as her mother's, though Ayrenn has taken the liberty of changing Astaire's eyes to a green that matches Sielaire's.
A little fantasy, as it is, and it makes Ayrenn ache sweetly from time to time.
Astaire turns her head back to Ayrenn, and peers at her mother from under the brim of her small sunhat. Ayrenn smiles, pecking her on the cheek.
"Yes, little Star?"
"Mommy," Astaire says, clutching at Ayrenn's shoulders. "I wanna walk."
"Oh? Promise to walk slowly first."
"Yeah."
"And hold mommy's hand always."
"Okay."
"Good girl." Ayrenn plops Astaire carefully on the floor, then offers her hand, which the girl holds onto. Due to her height, Ayrenn has to walk with her shoulders a little slouched, though that isn't much of a problem as she finds herself kneeling down often, explaining to the girl all the new things she's seeing for the first time. Random stuff, like the fountain in the square, birds chirping in sing-song notes, the trinkets in shop displays that Ayrenn has to restrain Astaire from grabbing. The only thing Ayrenn doesn't explain, is the glass of 'apple juice' Astaire noticed a Nord drinking in an open-air tavern, and she has to steer the girl away with a promise of actual juice, so Astaire will stop pouting.
She finds a garden beside the less-crowded corner of the market, and buys a cup of apple juice from a vendor, handing it to Astaire who sips it happily, swinging her legs on the bench. Ayrenn treats herself to a goblet of wine – the type of tavern wine that will be tossed from the palace in disdain – and sits on the bench with Astaire, looking over the few people strolling through the garden. Ayrenn leans back in the bench, and doesn't stop Astaire when she sets her half-finished cup of juice aside and walks off to explore her surroundings.
Ayrenn's attention wanders for a fleeting moment, and when she turns back to Astaire, she nearly chokes on her wine – the girl has grasped onto a Khajiit's tail, and strokes it gently. Ayrenn gives silent thanks that she doesn't tug on it – knowledge gained from ample experience with Sielaire's cats – and the Khajiit woman turns around, looking half-amused and perplexed at the child's behaviour. Ayrenn catches the woman's attention and raises a hand in apology, getting a laugh from the Khajiit, and a casual wave in reply.
The Khajiit slips her tail deftly from Astaire's hand, who stares up at her smile for a moment, before the girl is distracted by a much younger Khajiit sitting on the floor. He's about the same size as Astaire, probably the same age too, and is busy licking at the grey-black fur on his arm – until he's distracted by the Altmer girl. He watches with wide eyes as Astaire reaches out to him, and doesn't move when she rests a hand on his head, petting him as if he were one of her cats.
He doesn't protest, and when Astaire sits beside him, he reaches out to pet her hair as well, ruffling her neatly-combed blonde tresses. She giggles, then starts talking to him, causing his head to cock to the side, ears pricked. Ayrenn can't hear what she's saying, only the lilt of Astaire's babbles, then the rougher reply of the Khajiit boy. It seems they have a little trouble understanding each other, given the pauses after each child speaks, but it doesn't deter them from having a long, animated conversation filled with excited hand-waving and tail-flicking.
Then Astaire stands, and walks back to the bench where Ayrenn sits, taking the cup of juice she'd left behind. She carries it to the Khajiit and offers it to him, and he takes it with both hands. He licks at the beverage experimentally, then brings it to his lips, drinking the juice in earnest. Ayrenn can't help but smile when they start passing the cup back and forth, reminded of the times she'd spent traveling with Razum-dar before returning to Summerset, often sharing a bottle of ale or rations on the road.
Ayrenn sighs, missing her dear friend, and watches wistfully as the kids continue chatting. They're quite curious about each other, feeling hair and fur with their fingertips, and comparing the size of their ears. Astaire watches with wide eyes when her friend raises his claws for her to see, and she grabs onto his paw, feeling experimentally at its edges. They really are just fingernails, but longer and sharper, and Ayrenn bites down a warning for Astaire to be careful.
They pass a half hour together, before the boy's mother – the Khajiit woman whose tail Astaire had touched earlier – comes to pick him up. The boy takes his mother's hand, and waves at Astaire in farewell, while the girl does the same and stares after them as they leave. When they've blended into the market's crowd, Astaire returns to Ayrenn, who notices that little pout on her lips.
Picking the girl up, Ayrenn sets Astaire in her lap. "Don't be sad, Star. Maybe you'll meet again, someday."
Astaire doesn't reply, merely turning her head to look at the market again.
"Here, sweetheart. Let's go back to the palace, hm?" Ayrenn gathers the child in her arms, and stands. "We'd better go see your mama before she turns the whole place upside down looking for us."
"Mama's busy," Astaire parrots the excuse Ayrenn had given her, when she asked why Sielaire wasn't accompanying them into the city.
"Oh, she is," Ayrenn replies playfully, though her voice quiets so Astaire can't hear her. "But now, I think she's pissed."
Sielaire was rather ticked at Ayrenn – mostly because she'd decided to take Astaire out on her own, without informing Sielaire first. She would've agreed to go along, Sielaire explained, and she'd be spared from a bout of panic as she searched about the palace for her own family. Sielaire gave in after many croons and promises from Ayrenn – like she always does – and she took to pampering and hovering over Astaire for the next few days, before leaving on a trip to Lillandril for a celebration in the city.
Astaire has always been attached to her mothers, but as she grows and understands more around her, Ayrenn and Sielaire's frequent absences from the palace have started to affect her more as well. That's why she is clutching onto Sielaire, as her mother carries her to the courtyard, where the carriage and entourage are waiting to receive her.
Ayrenn walks beside Sielaire, smiling at the petulant pout on her daughter's lips, which grows more severe when Sielaire guides her to sit upright.
"Here we are, little Star. Mama has to go now."
"Mama, don't go," Astaire says, with such an air of finality it's almost a command. Sielaire blames her royal mother for this, but Ayrenn only smiles that crooked curve at the thought.
"Mama has to go, darling," Sielaire croons, bouncing the girl in her arms. "There's an important event that needs me there."
Astaire gives a loud whine, and can barely lock her arms around Sielaire's neck, before her mother hands her over to Ayrenn. Sielaire pecks Astaire on the forehead, then kisses her wife in farewell.
"Safe journey, dearest," Ayrenn says, catching Astaire's hand, and rubbing a thumb soothingly over the girl's fingers. "We'll be waiting for lots of presents when you come back."
"Of course you will," Sielaire laughs. She smooths a hand over Astaire's blonde locks, then turns away to board the carriage. But when she has climbed the first step, Sielaire stops and turns around, distracted by a familiar sob.
Ayrenn wipes at Astaire's eyes, cooing reassurances through the girl's tears, though she's relieved of her daughter when Sielaire returns to carry the girl again. Astaire's arms wind around Sielaire's neck instinctively, and Sielaire shoots Ayrenn a fond, exasperated look over the girl's shoulder as she rocks the girl in comfort.
When Astaire's sobs have faded, Sielaire says, "Don't worry, Astaire. Mama will be back very soon, and she'll bring lots of candy for you and mommy, alright?"
Astaire nods through her sniffles, wiping clumsily at her eyes.
"Here, pinky promise?" Sielaire offers her pinky to Astaire, who hooks it with her own. "There we go. Good job, Star."
Astaire nods again, and doesn't make a fuss when Sielaire hands her back to Ayrenn. Holding the girl in her arms, Ayrenn smiles when she receives a kiss on the cheek, and watches as Sielaire boards the carriage, stealing one last glance at her family before the entourage sets off through the gates. Ayrenn waits until the carriage is out of sight, before turning back to the palace.
Rubbing Astaire's back, Ayrenn croons softly to the girl hugging about her neck. "It's alright, Star. I miss mama terribly when she's away too. But she'll come back soon. She always does."
There's no response from Astaire, but Ayrenn knows she has listened – the girl nestles closer to Ayrenn, her breaths growing slow and calm once more.
"Now, put your hands...up!"
"Up!" Astaire repeats after her mother, wearing a bright smile as Ayrenn slips a baby blue nightdress over her.
"Nice one, Star!" Ayrenn coos, tugging on the dress to straighten it, covering Astaire properly. "Blue looks really good on you. Just like it does on mommy."
"I like blue," Astaire says.
"Me too. It's a wonderful colour." Ayrenn hands the gryphon plush to Astaire, who hugs it lovingly to her chest, then climbs onto the bed and sits beside her mother. Sielaire had left the city just that morning, but Astaire has returned to her normal self in no time, easily cheered by the people around her. Ayrenn is glad the child has adjusted to their absences well, though its necessity leaves her with a twinge in her chest.
Movement from the bathroom distracts Ayrenn from her musings, and she looks up to watch Alwinarwe walking back into the room, dressed in a flowing nightdress. She combs through her loose hair with her fingers, looking much more casual than her usual serious demeanour, if a little tired. Alwin stifles a yawn behind her hand, and climbs into the bed with an elegance that nearly makes Ayrenn snort in laughter.
But it seems she hasn't hidden her amusement quite well, because Alwin looks to her and asks, "Something tickles you, I presume?"
Ayrenn breaks into an impish smile. "It just hit me that we've never had a sleepover before."
"Oh, cousin dearest," Alwin deadpans, adjusting her dress as she pulls the covers up to her stomach. "We are Altmer. We don't do 'sleepovers'."
"Not proper Altmer like you, anyway," Ayrenn drawls, and Alwin shoots her a withering look.
"I still don't understand why you want me to sleep over," Alwin grumbles. "You've been doing just fine sleeping without Sielaire for nearly a century."
"Alwin, Alwin. It's for fun, my dear. Even you must know what that means, yes?"
"'Fun' is me sleeping in my own bed, without a cousin determined to pluck every single one of my nerves," Alwinarwe replies, lying down on her pillow.
"Sounds boring." Ayrenn coaxes Astaire into the spot beside Alwin, who helps to tuck the girl in, pulling the covers up to Astaire's shoulders. "Let's do something interesting. How about…" She leans over to Alwin, and speaks in a conspiratorial whisper, "Any deep, dark secrets you want to share?"
Alwinarwe rolls her eyes. "I have none."
"Really? All clean and above board, hm? You don't…eat mammoth steaks on the sly, maybe?"
"I don't. And what kind of silly 'dark' secret is that?" Alwin scoffs. "Besides, who shares dark secrets in a sleepover?"
"Well, I don't know. I've never done this much either." Ayrenn shrugs. "Sie does share things at night, though. Nothing you will ever learn," she adds with a wink, when Alwin glances at her curiously. "But you know who talked more than Sie? Raz."
"Raz? Oh. Before you returned."
Ayrenn nods. "We traveled a lot, spent many nights sharing the same tent. Same bedroll even, when we're down on our luck." She smiles at the memories, each one as clear as if they'd happened just yesterday.
"And, what did you two share?"
"Plenty. He doesn't like moon sugar as much as he pretends. He wishes his tail was shorter. He dyes his hair red–"
"Oh please," Alwin huffs, crossing her arms. "Even the blind could tell his hair is dyed. Such a garish shade could never be natural."
Ayrenn chuckles. "That's what I said, and he sulked for an entire week. Come to think, he told me a lot about his hair grooming regiments. That mohawk of his? I could style it for him…and for myself too. And he could braid my hair with his eyes closed."
"He did braid my hair once," Alwin says. "I was surprised by how well he did it."
"Oh? When?"
"He was escorting me back to Dusk. We were caught in a rainstorm that lasted the entire day. There wasn't much else to do while we were waiting it out, so…"
"I'm surprised you even let him touch your hair," Ayrenn laughs. "I always knew you liked him."
"I'd have liked him better if he wasn't constantly trying to irritate me," Alwin bites sharply, then sighs after a moment's pause. "But his heart was in the right place. That's why I tolerated him in the first place."
Ayrenn smiles wanly, remembering her own – if different – frustrations with the sly Khajiit as well. A sigh passes her lips, and she looks down to find Astaire staring up at them.
"You're still awake, little Star?" Ayrenn croons, patting her through the covers. "Can't sleep?"
"I'unno." Astaire shrugs, grasping at the wings of her gryphon plush.
Ayrenn watches the girl flap the wings rather sadly, and takes a guess at her silent trouble. "Is it because you miss mama?"
Astaire nods.
"Oh, sweetheart. Mama will be back soon. Maybe in the next week."
"She promised we'll play swing."
"'Play swing'?" Alwin asks, perplexed. "We don't have a swing here?"
"Not here, but we do. I'll explain later," Ayrenn says quickly, turning her attention back to Astaire. "Mama forgot to play swing before she left?"
Another nod.
"Oh dear, mama forgot her promise," Ayrenn teases. "Don't worry. When she comes back, we'll remind her, and we'll play swing together. Is that okay?"
"Yeah."
"Great. Now go to sleep, little Star. The sooner you sleep, the faster time will pass, and mama will be back quicker." Ayrenn adjusts the covers, and kisses Astaire's forehead. "Good night, sweetheart."
Ayrenn strokes the girl's hair gently, and hums a lullaby that seems to work on Alwin as well, her cousin falling asleep along with Astaire. When she reaches the last few notes, she stops abruptly, distracted by the tingling sensation on her finger. Ayrenn raises her hand to look at the wedding band, which blooms with a soothing warmth – Sielaire. She smiles, and channels magicka into her own ring, activating the enchantment that will cause the ring's bonded pair to grow warm as well. A simple message, yet precious beyond measure.
I love you too.