A/N: So this is going to be the last strictly-linear chapter. After this we'll have some chapters that are sequential, but for the most part I'll be posting whatever scenes I happen to come up with, whether that's in the early years or later on. Speaking of, this chapter takes place two years after the previous one. Ages are Lena at eight, Astra/Tara at six, Sterling at two, and the Marquis and Marchioness are fifty-eight and thirty-nine.
Chapter Six: The Battlefield Babe
Martha Jones-Pink, field surgeon, general physician, and celebrated member of the Marquis's army, was severely displeased as she came out of the medical tent. Not far away was Marchioness Clara being helped off her horse by a soldier, while the young Lady Lena handed over the reins to her pony. The sight would have been more bearable had the Marchioness not been so heavy with child, something the physician herself had been up until a few months prior.
"Milady, why are you here?" she frowned as she stomped up to the visitors. "You're large enough to where I could roll you across the field."
"Oh, I planned on this being my last ride for a while," the Marchioness laughed, attempting to make light of the situation. "Since it's been quiet, I decided to bring Lena for one quick tour of the camps while she has a holiday from lessons and before I'm laid up in bed and exhausted from feedings."
"…and have you been learning loads, Lady Lena?" the physician asked. The little girl nodded. "I hear you have a gift for strategy."
"I do!" Lena beamed. "That's why Mama said I can come! First she said I couldn't come until I'm out of the nursery and know strategy, but she said that the nursery part doesn't matter right now!"
"That's excellent! Hey, why don't you go to that tent over there and ask one of the cooks for a snack?" the physician suggested. "You must be hungry from the ride over."
"Okay, I will!" Lena scampered off giggling, simply happy to be there.
"You are reckless," the physician snapped at the Marchioness as soon as Lena was out of earshot. "If I could spend over half a year at home twiddling my thumbs in boredom then so can you."
"…and what? Have my husband riding out here more than what is actually necessary?" the other woman replied lowly. "No, Martha. As long as I can still mount a horse I am doing my duty and riding when I can. It's not at a gallop but if I could do it with Lena I will certainly do it with this child."
"You're an older mother now, Clara. I should hope I don't have to tell you about the risks of being an older mother."
"You sound like both Johan and Daniel," the Marchioness grumbled. She started to walk away, though the physician immediately followed and they began to walk around the camp borders. "Why is it that your husband has to take care of a baby and suddenly he feels it necessary to join in my husband's lectures about taking it easy?"
"Because in this case, I think they know what they're talking about," the physician smirked. "How's my little Oriana? Doing well with just her dad around?"
"She's thriving," the Marchioness replied. She turned to face the physician, only for an explosion across the field and behind the far-off tree line to catch their attention. A volley of phaser blasts were hurled into the camp, one of which hit her shoulder. The force of the blast caused her to jerk back and fall to the ground, twitching in the wide-eyed aftershock.
"We're under attack!" the physician shouted. "I need muscle—the Marchioness has been hit!" Her last sentence was drowned out in a sea of panic, with soldiers scrambling to ready themselves for battle.
"Mama!" Lena cried as soon as she saw her mother lying on the ground. She ran over to kneel in the mud next to the Marchioness, trying to shake her back to responsiveness. "Mama, Mama, what's wrong?!"
"No, don't do that!" the physician snapped, taking Lena's hands away. "She was hit with a phaser gun and it jammed her nervous system and muscular responses. It takes a couple minutes, but she'll come back." She looked down towards the Marchioness's skirt and noticed red was beginning spread across the fabric. "Shit, SHIT! I need muscle, now!" Quickly she checked underneath the skirt and cursed as one of the other soldiers came up to help them. "Get her to my tent, immediately—she's dilating rapidly."
"What's that mean?" Lena asked as the physician took her hand and began pulling her along. The soldier had picked the Marchioness up and was now carrying her to the medical tent.
"It means you're going to be a big sister again very soon, whether the fighting stops or not." They all reached the medical tent and the Marchioness was placed down on an empty bed. As soon as the soldier's hands were away the effects of the phaser blast wore off, allowing her to let out a blood-curdling scream and curl around her unborn child.
"Mama!" Lena shouted. She started to run to her, but the physician pulled her back by the arm.
"No, don't," she ordered. She pulled a phaser pistol from the holster underneath her coat and put it in the girl's hands. "I need you to stand guard. If it doesn't look like one of ours, shoot it in the head. You got that? I know you can use one of these, so I have faith in you." The Marchioness screamed again, this time her husband's name, and the physician quickly turned the girl away from them and towards the door-flap. "Don't turn around until I say so."
"…but, but, my mama…" Lena sniffled.
"…who is counting on you to keep us safe while she tries to give you your baby sibling. Stay here and do not look, I don't care what you hear. Got that?"
Lena bit her lips together and nodded, trying not to cry. The physician's hands left her shoulders and the girl lifted the phaser gun. It shook in her hands as she watched people run around though the slit in the tent flap. Her mother shouted again, and again, and Lena nearly turned to look, but someone in blue steel armor and pointing a rifle popped into the tent. She squeezed the trigger and fired, the blast connecting with the enemy soldier's forehead. The blast tossed him back out of the tent, only his boots still visible until they were dragged away by an unseen force.
Very soon after that a baby cried and tears began to stream down Lena's cheeks. She kept on watching the door-flap for intruders until the physician came back, one hand resting on her shoulder and the other taking the pistol from her grip.
"Go meet your sister—I have this," she said gently in her ear. The little girl spun around and flung herself in her mother's direction crying hysterically. Lena threw her arms around the Marchioness's neck and squeezed tight.
"Oh my girl, my big strong girl," the Marchioness cooed, stroking her eldest daughter's hair in a one-armed hug. "I am so sorry. Are you okay?"
"Nuh-uh," Lena whimpered, shaking her head. She looked down at the baby suckling at their mother's breast and worried her brow. "She's so little… I know babies are little, but Sterling wasn't this little, was he Mama?"
"Sterling had a whole extra month to grow inside me," Mama explained. She exhaled wearily and kissed her eldest daughter's forehead. "You did a good job protecting us. Thank you."
"Can we go back home, Mama? Papa needs to name her."
The Marchioness looked at the little girl whose face was nestled in her shoulder and nodded. "I think that is a wonderful idea… though, you don't want to name her?"
"No, that's Papa's job," Lena sniffled. She kept on staring at the baby with wide, barely-blinking eyes. "Papa gives good names. He gave me my name."
"This is true," the Marchioness agreed. She hugged her eldest daughter close, leaving another kiss on her hair. It had been a mistake going to the front while carrying one child and escorting another, and she hoped that it was going to be a mistake they could put behind them.
It was a bright, quiet morning as the Marquis sat in his study. Sterling was on his lap, looking over the tabletop calmly at his father's work, while Astra and Tara sat at the far end of the table doing their sums practice. A hurried knock broke the serenity, sending a scowl across the man's face.
"You better be important," he called out as he continued to look over his papers. A courier burst in, winded and exhausted from travel.
"A letter from the Marchioness, Your Lordship," he explained as he approached the table. "It's urgent." He placed the folded paper in the Marquis's outstretched hand and stood there, making his lord glare at him from underneath his brows.
"Your job is complete," he said.
"No, milord. I have further instruction to watch you read Her Ladyship's words. Please."
Quirking an eyebrow, the Marquis broke the seal and began to read his wife's letter. The further on he went, the paler his face ran, until he had to put down the paper and wrap both arms around his son in a hug. His eyes were wide and his lips parted in silent shock.
"Papa? What's wrong?" Astra asked. "What did Mama say?"
"Your…" He had to gulp down air to steady himself. "Your little sister was born early."
"We have another sister?!" Tara gasped. "What's her name? When are they coming home? I thought she wasn't supposed to be born until next month!"
The twins watched their papa as he sat there, clutching their brother. "Papa okay?" the toddler asked, wiggling in an attempt to escape their father's grasp to no avail. The courier excused himself and left the family alone, a heavy air having fallen on the room. Astra slipped off her chair and crept over to the Marquis's side, touching his arm gently.
"Papa? What did Mama say?"
"They… almost died," he said, voice barely above a whisper. "Your mama and your sisters… they could have died. There was an attack, by mercenaries… and that's why your little sister came early."
"What's a 'mercenary'?"
"A hired soldier, only paid to do a specific task. They had been watching your mama and Lena… they wanted to…" The Marquis couldn't continue, and instead turned towards Astra and drew her in for a hug. The girl looked back at her twin in confused horror as their father began breathing deeply into her shoulder.
"Don't worry Papa," she said, turning her face forward again. "Mama and Lena and the baby are safe, right? They're coming home."
"They almost didn't, starlet," the Marquis choked. "You almost became Papa's heir; soldiers attacked the tent where Mama and your sister were. Stars in the sky forbid, I don't want to do that again. Daniel shouldn't do that. No…"
"Do what, Papa?"
"Bury a wife and a child before their time—my sky almost grew dimmer in one blow." He let go of Astra to fetch a kerchief from his pocket, with which he cleaned the tears from his face as he composed himself. "Did you know that about your papa? That I had married before your mama?"
Astra shook her head, but it was Tara that answered once she was over at their father's side. "You still have us, Papa. We're still your stars."
"…but you know how dark it is outside when there's no moon to light the way," he said. The Marquis bounced the toddler in his lap and tried to smile for him. "Your brother doesn't understand yet, and I'm not sure how much you do, but please understand this: I am a very selfish man. I want my moon and each one of my stars until the day I die, and I don't care who stands in the way of that."
"Why did you mention Sir Daniel? Is Lady Martha okay?" Astra asked.
"Yes, she is, but Lady Martha was the physician that helped your mama birth your baby sister. If your mama died, chances would have been Lady Martha died alongside her. Sir Daniel and I argue, but… having gone through the death of a wife myself, I can't recommend it." He paused to place a hand on each of his daughters' shoulders and looked them in the eyes. "It's going to take at least a couple days for Mama and Lena to come back with the new baby. Can you promise you'll be good girls and wait patiently with me?"
"…but you never wait patiently for anything, Papa," Tara noted.
"That's why I need your help," he said. The Marquis then hugged his girls and rang the bell for tea, starting what was to be a long, strenuous week of wait. Very little could snap him from his daze, not even words of comfort from his daughters' tutor, given with sincerity and a hardened sense of understanding as he held his own daughter in his arms. It was a reality he faced every day, he explained, and while it hurt it should also be a source of strength, power, and love. It was all the Marquis could do to nod in response as he held his son, shivering in worry as the convoy made its way back.
Finally, a messenger approached the Marquis to announce that his wife and daughters had returned. He abandoned his paperwork and rushed down to the stables, where he saw his wife being helped out from the back of a cart while his daughter stood nearby. Her feet had barely reached the ground when he called out, his voice cracking as it filled the stables. "Clara! Lena!" He scrambled into their view, running an impossibly-lopsided run until he reached the Marchioness, whom he bent down towards and deeply kissed. After kissing her a second time, and a third, where he ran his fingers through her hair to make sure she was real, he left a light kiss on his infant daughter's nose and allowed himself to sink to his knees so he could hug his heir.
The girl sniffed into her father's shoulder, clinging tightly when he tried to stand again. He picked her up, a feat he strained to accomplish, and carried her up to the nursery. It was there where he had made the other children wait. As soon as the door had opened they snapped to attention, rushing right past their father to barrel into their mother's skirts.
"Hold on now, hold on, let me sit down first," the Marchioness chuckled. She sat in a nearby rocking chair and showed the sleeping infant to her siblings. "See? Here we are. All safe and sound."
"Mama, Papa told us what your letter said," Tara frowned. "That was wrong of the Sontarians. Lena didn't do anything bad and the baby couldn't have done anything bad because she hadn't been born. Why would they want to kill people who aren't even old enough to do anything?"
"Because it was their job, starlet, nothing more," Mama sighed. "Thank you for keeping your papa here at the castle instead of letting him run off to the front. I don't know what he would have done had he acted reckless and accidentally gotten hurt looking for us."
"Baby?" Sterling asked, looking at his little sister. He patted his mother's stomach, no longer the bulge it once was, and tilted his head curiously back at the newborn. "Baby name?"
"Our son's right," the Marchioness said. She raised her voice so as to be heard across the room. "What is his little sister's name, Papa? Have you decided on a name of our youngest child?"
The Marquis sat silently on Lena's bed, the girl curled up against him in his lap as he rocked her back and forth. Despite the fact nearly the entire nursery was between him and his wife, he knew that it was as if they were sitting beside one another, holding hands and sharing their strength. His kissed his eldest's hair and held her close, trying to ignore the fact she was wrapping his cape around her as a blanket while she quietly cried.
"Maglina." He paused, staring at a bit of rug not far from where he sat. "Star dust."
"What a pretty name," the Marchioness cooed, bouncing the child gently in her arms. "Your sister was right: your papa does give good names." The baby opened her eyes and looked up, staring at her mother with the same sea-green gaze that was found in her grandfather's portrait down the corridor. "I think you will be it, my darling Maglina. You will be the last of Mama and Papa's babies."
"No more…?" Astra asked. "How can you tell?"
"I just can," Mama replied. "As far as I can see, Maglina is my last baby." She saw how intently her middle children were looking at their sister and forced a smile. "Who wants to hold her first?" The twins' eyes lit up.
"I want to! I want to!" Tara gasped.
"…but Sterling hasn't held a baby before!" Astra argued. "We should let him hold her first!"
"Sterling held Ori when Sir Daniel first brought her over to the castle, remember?" Tara shot back. "He was sitting on Mama's lap and she helped him!"
"Stop fighting," the Marchioness said firmly. "It's Tara's turn first, then Sterling, then Astra. Now sit down on the floor, please." Her children did as they were told and sat in front of their mother cross-legged. She slid carefully off the chair and down to her knees, placing the baby gently in the younger twin's arms.
After making sure the hold was secure, she looked across the room to check on her husband and eldest. They were still wrapped up in his cloak and wobbling on the edge of the bed. The Marquis's face was blank, his mask of lordly indifference hiding the pain and horror that was attacking him from all around. Lena kept rubbing her face in her father's chest, smearing tears and snot, and was visibly shivering even from across the room. It broke the Marchioness's heart, but she kept her other children busy and began the process of passing Maglina over to her brother.
It was not until that night, when the sky was a dusty red and the children were asleep and the baby freshly fed and placed in her cot, did the Marquis finally break. They laid on their bed, with his sobs muffled by her shoulder and his grip around her steadfast as iron. He cried and cursed in the ceremonial tongue and curled himself around her body. Hating everything and feeling helpless, he swore over and over to protect her, cherish her, and destroy anything that ever wished her harm. The Marchioness simply stroked his hand and listened to his murmured tirade until he fell asleep from exhaustion, red in his face and crust in his eyes. She looked out the window at the blood-red sky, listening to his labored breathing as she too drifted off, giving many thanks to the luck they had to bring her and their children home.
A/N: I promise we're still gonna have plenty of fluff and cute things, but a drama chapter, you know? Being nobility isn't all flower-language and glaring at people you don't like, after all.
Also, I need to mention that it took me quite a long time to figure out who in the heck I was going to pair Daniel off with, whether it was a canon character or an OC. In the end, I realized that when it comes to compatibility, Danny and Martha make a pretty good match. He'd be obliging to her career and she'd be able to see past the shit the Cyberans have done to him. Both characters are pretty badass and compassionate and tolerate the Doctor's antics very little. Love Mickey, love Martha, but I don't get the feeling a relationship between the two of them would have gone all the way to marriage. I know the ship is technically canon, but I don't wholly buy it. Sorry.