A/N: It's pure coincidence that I've had a bunch of updates crammed together, but I'm glad it worked out that way.
Also: this chapter starts when Lena is roughly one and a half years old.
Chapter Two: Papa, Lena, and the Mysterious Blooms
"Papa! Papa! Up! Up!"
Still drowsy, the Marquis felt tiny hands tugging on one of his in an attempt to drag him out of bed as he cracked his eyes open. He chuckled as he watched his daughter struggle to move his arm and lose her grip, tumbling backwards onto the floor. The toddler sniffled as she sat up, trying not to sob.
"Oh, don't cry now; Papa's up," the Marquis smirked. He rolled out of bed and scooped Lena off the floor, tickling her side to get her to laugh. He looked back at the bed—empty, for Clara was away visiting some pastures in the hills—and sighed. "Well, it looks like it's still the two of us today. What do you say to that?"
"Papa fun!" Lena giggled. She lunged forward and hugged her father's face, causing him to grimace as he walked over to the nursery door. The Marquis allowed his daughter to choose her dress—purple with white lace—and had only just gotten her shoes on her when she zoomed over to her toys and began to play. He chuckled and left her in order to dress himself, which he would have done had there not been a great deal of people fussing about in his room, arranging vases of flowers everywhere.
"Oh, my apologies Johan—you didn't answer so I thought you already left for the morning," the head gardener said. He saw the confused expression on his lord's face and chuckled. "I take it these are a surprise?"
"They are," the Marquis agreed. "I did not order them, and my wife has been gone nearly the week." Touching the blooms in the nearest vase, which were baby's breath and white carnations, he furrowed his brow in thought.
"The Marchioness ordered them before she left," the head gardener replied. "I thought you were aware." It was then that Lena came in to investigate all the commotion.
"Fwower!" she exclaimed happily. She clapped as she made her way up to the nearest arrangement to the door, but the gardener intercepted her and lifted the child into his arms.
"That's right, Lady Lena, those are flowers," he chuckled. "Do you like flowers?" He nodded at the Marquis, who quickly began to rummage through his wardrobe and don his finery for the day.
"Yes!" the little girl announced. "Fwower pwetty."
"They are very pretty indeed. You have good taste, my child." The head gardener kept Lena busy until the Marquis was dressed, which was when he passed her off. "So then the Lady Clara did not have anything that needed discussion? This isn't any code you can think of?"
"Not that I am aware of," the Marquis answered. "If she ever has to tell me something, she usually says it forthright and skips playing games."
"Maybe it's something new, maybe it isn't," the gardener shrugged. He and his lord exchanged glances, knowing that neither of them had the full story at hand. The gardener then excused himself and left along with the rest of his staff. It took until he was halfway between the castle and the glasshouses before he finally pieced everything together.
'Congratulations, Johan.'
"Spit it out," the Marquis frowned. He was sitting in the governance chair, a young man from a village in the hills in front of him. The village man was staring at him curiously, or, to be more specific, he was staring at the toddler bouncing happily on her stone-faced father's knee.
"Uh, Your Lordship, I'm not exactly well-versed in court protocol, but should the young lady be with her governess?" he postulated. His lord shook his head.
"My child knows no governess," he replied. "She will rule the march one day, and in the meantime it's my job to make sure her duties are second-nature. Whatever you have to say to me, you can say to my daughter."
Lena looked between her father and the village man and furrowed her eyebrows, babbling importantly. The Marquis beamed at her, full of pride, and tickled her under her chin. "That's right, starlet: the village man is being a pudding brain and not saying what he needs to, prolonging everyone's time here. He won't be the last subject to be afraid of you, stars in the sky forbid."
"I am not afraid of a baby," the villager frowned, unnerved by the very notion of his lord being affectionate. The Marquis did not move his head, yet turned his gaze onto the visitor with a smug grin.
"Prove it."
A long period of silence gripped the governance hall, the only noise being Lena's curious coos. The village man was just about to work up the courage to speak again when a crier scurried into the hall.
"The Lady Marchioness has returned," he announced. The Marquis clutched his daughter in his arms and stood, making his way down the dais and to the floor.
"We'll continue this another time," he said nonchalantly.
"…but what about…?"
"Then you should have spoken sooner," the Marquis stated.
"I was promised an audience!"
"And you will get one in time." The Marquis spun around on his heel, glowering at the man. "You try having your wife away from home for a week, traveling without word of return, and see how anxious you are to meet her."
"My wife doesn't have time for tea parties," the villager grumbled.
"Then I'll ask mine if tea in the hinterlands is any good, or if she was too busy drawing up new pasture boundaries for when we start rebuilding the roads to sit down for a decent cup," the Marquis snarked. Lena added on a few syllables as he turned around and walked away, peeking over her father's shoulder to wave her hand decisively at the village man. They then left, determined to locate the returned Marchioness.
A few minutes of frantic running later and she was found sitting down in the bedchamber. The Marchioness seemed to have just sat, with a servant placing a tea tray on the table next to her and the hem of her dress splattered in mud. The Marquis put Lena down on the floor and let her run to her mother, jumping up into her lap and attacking her with kisses.
"Oh, I missed you too little one," the Marchioness laughed. She watched as her husband slowly crossed the room, bending down on a knee to kiss her hand. "And I missed you as well. I see you got my flowers."
The Marquis smiled against her hand. "Things are not the same without the moon in my sky at night." He then blinked, letting go of her hand and taking careful note of her dress. "You haven't worn that in a long time."
"Since when?" she asked with a chuckle. It took until Lena leaned towards him and tugged on his whiskers for him to remember.
"When you were carrying Lena," he gasped. "You don't mean you're…?"
She nodded in reply, biting her lips together to keep from crying. The Marquis lunged forward and happily wrapped his arms around his wife in a hug, kissing her gently, with Lena trapped giggling in the middle.
"How far along?" he asked. "I… I didn't realize…"
"Not terribly far—before the autumn ends for certain—we've been apart my last few moon-cycles, so you wouldn't have had the chance to guess," the Marchioness said. "The physician is coming though for an exam, so if you could please take our eldest to the nursery and keep her there I would be most appreciative."
"Are you feeling well?" the Marquis asked. She nodded.
"I am just showing a little sooner than before, and I want to be sure that it is normal," she said. "One of my bodyguards said she showed earlier with her second than her first and I shouldn't worry, but I know how you are about keeping up on these things."
"Yes, of course," he nodded, plucking Lena from her mother's lap. After leaving a kiss on his wife's crown, the Marquis brought their heir over to the next room, where he shut the door and sat in a chair while he watched her play.
Close to an hour passed as the Marquis secluded himself in the nursery. He heard the physician both arrive and leave as he waited patiently for the go-ahead to return. Finally the door to the bedchamber opened and the Marchioness stood in the entryway, leaning on the frame. He pulled their child away from her dolls and into his arms as he went to meet her.
"Are you well? Is the child well?" the Marquis asked. The Marchioness nodded.
"I am well, and so are the children," she said. Her husband furrowed his brow in thought.
"…but the physician didn't see Lena, only you."
"Only me and our twins," the Marchioness said softly, her hand finding her stomach. She watched as the Marquis's eyes went wide and his lips parted in shock.
"T-Twins…?" he gasped.
"Your grandfather was a twin; don't be so surprised," she smirked. Her face fell as her husband's shock did not seem to wear off, his own a frozen mask. "Johan? Are you alright?"
"Papa? Kay?" Lena asked, shoving her hands in her father's cheek. The Marquis shook his disbelief long enough to kiss his daughter on the forehead in reply.
"This… this can't be…" he murmured. "You cannot be with twins. There's no way…"
"There had to of been some way, or else I would not have shown so quickly," the Marchioness sighed. "Johan, everything will be fine."
"No, my dear, it won't be fine. This is horrible…"
She had to double-take. "How is me having more children horrible? All you do is dote on our Lena!"
"Yes, and I only have two arms, Clara," the Marquis explained in a panic. "I can barely contain Lena now, but three children? I can't hold three! I can learn how to hold two but three… I'll have to make sure I give them all equal time with their papa, so that none feel less loved." His eyes began to sting as tears finally began to well up in happiness. "Oh Clara, how could you do this to me?"
The Marchioness looked up at her distraught husband and laughed. She cradled his face in her hands and brought him down for a kiss. "'To nurture, foster, and insure our issue', or have you forgotten?"
"That was part of our vows—it is something I'll never forget."
"Then I'm sure you'll find a way," she said. Carefully, she eased their daughter out of his arms and onto the floor, allowing the child to dash back to her toys. The Marchioness pulled the Marquis to a pile of cushions in the corner of the nursery, where they reclined and observed their eldest in play. All three grew drowsy by midafternoon, and before long toddler was in mama's arms, who was in papa's arms. They were a cozy pile of family, one that was growing even as they napped.
Not long before they were woken for tea, the Marquis's eyes flit open and he smiled as he caressed his wife's face, smoothed his daughter's wild hair, and placed a hand over where the twins were growing.
'Two stars,' he thought privately. 'My moon is creating two more stars for our sky, which is already so well-lit the midnight hours are nearly as day. Few men are as lucky as me.'
He kissed the Marchioness on the temple and gently tightened the grip around her waist. "My moon and my stars," he murmured. The Marquis then began to recite words, old and ornate and unknown to his sleeping family, as he sat and watched them as they slept on.
A/N: We must always remember that Johan rocks the Cardinal Richelieu look from The Musketeers. He's got all the curled hair and intimidating goatee and sharp glares with none of the vestment issues.