A/N: The following chapter has Lena at five years old and her twin sisters at three.

Chapter Three: The Moonless Nights

"Now I need you to behave for Papa," the Marchioness said sternly, crouching so as to look her daughters in the eyes. They were in the nursery, where it had been early evening playtime only moments before. The three little girls nodded sadly in reply.

"Do you have to go, Mama?" Lena asked. Mama nodded, stroking her eldest's soft, fluffy curls.

"If I don't, then foreign soldiers could cross the border and hurt a lot of people," she explained. "If they were friendly and just wanted a chat and some tea, we could let the colonels and the brigadiers handle it, but they're not and that means I need to help."

"Take us with you, Mama!" the twins, Astra and Tara, whined. The Marchioness shook her head and brought them in close for a hug.

"One day, when you're out of the nursery and can read a battle strategy," she tutted. "Now don't cause your papa any reason for worry, alright?"

"Yes, Mama," the girls replied in chorus. After giving each girl a kiss on the brow, she stood upright again and went to join her husband by their bedchamber. They entered, with him softly closing the door behind them.

"Do you really have to go?" he asked, his eyebrows knit in worry. "The report said they were aggressively hostile, Clara, moreso than usual. Let me assist at the front—I've gone face-to-face with a Daleki soldier in close combat before."

"It is my turn, so I am going; the girls will still have their mama by the time the contingent returns to Gallifrey, don't you worry," the Marchioness promised. The Marquis held her hand in one of his own, bending down to kiss her wrist.

"They better, or I shan't know what to do."

"I thought this was what you wanted: your second heart riding out when and where she is needed."

"It is, yet, I still can't help but worry," he said. Leaning down a bit further, he pressed their lips together in a pleading kiss. "My nights shall be moonless until your safe return."

"As will mine," she replied. They then parted, with the Marchioness headed for the stables while the Marquis went back to the nursery to announce that it was time for the family to go down to their dinner.

"Papa…? Papa, wake up please," Tara whispered, still in her nightdress as she shook her father's shoulder. He woke with a jolt, sitting upright in bed and looking down at his three-year-old daughter with parted lips and wide eyes.

"Is everything alright?!" the Marquis asked, eyebrows arched in fear. The sky was bright, though a sparkling red, showing that they still had at least an hour before it was time to ready for the day. Tara held out a ribbon and brush, pouting.

"Braid my hair," she demanded. Her father exhaled; things were fine.

"It's too early to be braiding hair, my starlet," he chuckled. "Can't Lena or Astra help you?"

"Mama always does it for me if they're not awake," she explained. Crawling up on the bed, she sat down resolutely and held out the ribbon and brush again. "Please?"

"You can't wait for one of your sisters?"

"Nope."

Sighing, the Marquis took the things from his daughter's hand and watched as her eyes lit up. She excitedly shuffled so that her back was turned and he had access to her long, wavy mane of brown. He began to cautiously brush it, untangling the strands that had been knotted in sleep. Once everything was smooth again, he ran his fingers through the ends, pensive.

"What's the matter, Papa?" Tara asked.

"I… nothing," he lied. "Just hold still while Papa does his best, okay?"

"Okay," she giggled, wiggling happily in place. The Marquis thought for a moment, attempting to remember how exactly it was a braid was supposed to look, before halving her hair and beginning to twist the bunches together with his fingers.

"I haven't done this very often, so forgive me if it does not look like a braid from Mama," he said. It was true, as the last time he had attempted such a feat, he was a young man and courting. By the time he got to the bottom, the attempt was lax and frizzed and rather sad-looking. He tied it off with the ribbon anyways, patting his daughter on the head to signal he was done. "There. That should suffice until your sisters are awake and can fix Papa's mistakes."

"Oh, thank you, Papa!" Tara said, turning back around and kissing him on the cheek. She took the brush with her and disappeared back behind the nursery door, presumably to change into her clothes for the day and wake her sisters. The Marquis let himself fall backwards into the mattress, staring up at the canopy in dismay.

"I was not prepared for this," he murmured, closing his eyes. "I would not trade them for anything, but I still will never be prepared."

The young heir to the marquisate and her little sisters watched carefully around the corner as their father talked with one of his military officers. He seemed to be heavily distracted by the officer, which made the girls frown as spied on the Marquis.

"I don't know how Papa can be so calm with Mama off to fight the Daleki soldiers," Lena pouted.

"He doesn't even look worried," Astra added. She was dressed in green that day, her twin in pink. "Mama at least looks worried when he's off fighting."

"Oh, I think he is very worried indeed," a voice chuckled. The girls all jumped, falling over in surprise. When they finally disentangled themselves from one another, they saw Lena's tutor crouched down beside them with a soft smile. He always seemed to smile around them, making the forced-studding by Cyberan captors all over his face and body seem less frightening.

"How do you know, Sir Daniel?" Lena asked. "Has Papa told you he is worried?"

"No, but I can see it on his face," her tutor answered. "I've worked with him for many years, and I have learned how he shows fear."

"Is he often afraid?" Tara wondered. The man nodded in reply.

"He is, but that is just his nature," he said. "All papas are like that—all mamas as well. I wouldn't worry too much though. Your mama will be back home, dalek." He chuckled at the girls' blank expressions. "The soldiers your mama is with right now say 'dalek' to mean something like 'in a moment', or 'in a short while', because in the field, most Daleki troops are so easy to get rid of that it doesn't take much time at all."

"Then why are they so dangerous?" The tutor patted Astra's hair and shook his head.

"They're dangerous because there's always so many of them," he explained. "Poor soldiering skills or not, you should still watch an enemy in large numbers."

"Um… Sir Daniel?" Tara tapped her fingers together sheepishly. "How do we help Papa feel less afraid?"

"Well, what do your mama and papa do for you when you're afraid?" he asked.

"Give us hugs and read to us and let us stay in their bed and sometimes Mama takes us to the kitchens and we make ourselves a snack without the help of the cook-lady," Lena replied, counting off on her fingers. "Would the same things work with Papa?"

"I think so," the tutor nodded. "He's your papa and he loves you, and if his daughters want him to feel less afraid, I'm sure he will appreciate their efforts."

"Okay! Thanks, Sir Daniel," Tara grinned. She went to turn the corner and angrily stomped her foot. "No! He left! Now where is he?"

"He'll be back; he always is," the tutor said. He stood straight up, holding out his hand towards the sisters. "How about if we go play some ball in the gardens? Lena doesn't have any more lessons for the day, if I recall correctly, and the weather is beautiful for it." That was all the distraction necessary for the girls to gasp excitedly and follow him through the halls.

"Are you all safe and sound?" the Marquis asked his daughters as he looked around the nursery. He had just finished settling them down for the night, complete with snug blankets, toy dragons and lions and puppies, and kisses already distributed.

"Yes, Papa," they said in unison. The Marquis then turned on his heel and went for the door to his shared bedchamber.

"Good night, then," he said as he left the room. The Marquis sighed in relief as he leaned up against the shut door, glad that his children were in bed and off to sleep. He shrugged out of his clothes and into his nightdress, afterwards allowing himself to nearly fall into his mattress. Pulling the blankets over him, he relaxed into the the pillow at his head—it still carried the Marchioness's scent despite her being gone. The smell comforted him as he closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep.

A few minutes passed and the Marquis heard the faint noise of the door to the nursery opening. Just as he began to roll over to see which daughter it was, all three jumped up onto the bed and tackled him in a giant hug.

"Wait a moment! What is going on here?!" he gasped. The girls scuttled off their father and into the empty expanse of bed, clutching their toy animals in trepidation.

"We got hugs and kisses goodnight, and we wanted to make sure you got them too," Lena explained. "Mama gives them to you, and since Mama's not here and you're worried about her…"

The Marquis relaxed—again, nothing was wrong. "Now what makes you think I'm worried about your mama?"

"We didn't think you were, but Sir Daniel said you are, and that we can help by making you feel better and we know we feel better with hugs, so…" Astra said, her mouth going nearly as fast as she could think. She sucked in a deep breath, steeling herself. "…Tara and Lena and I were hoping that maybe, if we gave you hugs goodnight, that you would feel better and not be upset with worry over Mama, and maybe we could stay in here like we do when you're the one riding to meet with the soldiers."

"You girls stay with your mama when I am not here?" he asked. The girls nodded.

"Mama says the bed is too lonely with just one person," Lena replied. "Is that right?"

The Marquis considered it for a moment before holding his arms out wide. "Your mama is never wrong." He smiled softly as his daughters dove under the bedding and snuggled in for the night. With Tara on his chest and Lena and Astra each in an arm, the Marquis slept upright in bed so as to not risk rolling over and disturbing them. He leaned up against the headboard, a crick quickly developing in his neck as he allowed himself to succumb to sleep, truly comforted by his daughters' presence.

When the Marchioness returned home early the following morning, she was more confused at her lack of a welcome party than anything.

"Where is my lord husband?" she asked as she dismounted her horse. "Usually he is here to greet me."

"I do not know, milady," the stable hand replied. "It is early yet, but I've heard that neither he nor your daughters have been seen today, so maybe they have taken ill?"

"That is a possibility—children and the grey-haired do fall ill easily after all," she nodded. She thanked the stable hand and decided to head up to her quarters for a quick bath and a change of clothes. Finding toy animals in her unmade bed and the door to the nursery open, she saw the Marquis sitting cross-legged on the floor, with Tara in his lap as Lena and Astra lorded over him.

"No, Papa, you're doing it wrong," Lena frowned. She took the strands of her sister's hair from his hands and slowly wound them together. "Like this, see?"

"Yes, I see," he echoed. None of them noticed the Marchioness until she cleared her throat, alerting them to her presence.

"I see my stars and moon got on while I was gone," she laughed. The girls ran to their mother, nearly bowling her over in their excitement.

"Mama, we're teaching Papa how to braid hair!" Astra squeaked.

"I can see," the Marchioness laughed. She looked up and saw her husband rise to his feet. He crossed the nursery and bent down to kiss her cheek. "Are the lessons going well?"

"I have excellent tutors," he chuckled. "I didn't know our starlets kept you company while I am away."

"The bed is too big and lonely for one—I found that out after you and I started sharing," she smirked. She then inspected the beginning of the braids on Tara's head, close to her scalp and delicately woven. "Not many marquises I know with deft enough fingers to help their daughters with hair."

"You sound surprised." The Marquis placed his hands on her waist and pressed their foreheads together. "Maybe you forgot what I am capable of while you were away."

"I might need a reminder then," she giggled. She pulled down his face and kissed him on the lips, only to be serenaded by a chorus of fake gagging coming from the girls. They kissed again and were immediately pulled apart, Lena tugging on the Marchioness's waist and the twins each taking one of the Marquis's arms. The parents exchanged glances—it was more amusing than anything else for, above all, their skies were moonless no longer.

A/N: Danny, as the official private tutor for the kids, is the closest thing they have to a governess, thanks to Johan and Clara's more hands-on approach to parenting than would be normal for nobility. With an ex-POW/military strategist/general badass at the helm of their education and non-parental welfare, one can only assume these children are destined for greatness.