A/N: Super-rewind time! The following chapter takes place when Johan is 52, Clara is 33, Lena is 2, and the twins are newborns.
Also, just to mention it, the past week or so I've been crossposting a bunch of my current work over on AO3, so if you haven't been there in a while and see another Nehszriah, that's me!
Chapter Seventeen: When Duty Calls
The announcement of the Marchioness's second pregnancy was a well-received one across the March of Kasterborous, causing many a pub to raise the expectant couple a toast. It was security for the Marquis's bloodline, confirming that the marquisate would sit in the correct hands for a while longer, and giving the people confidence in their liege lord again. Some even gave one another bemused glances as they clinked ale mugs—the Marchioness was expecting twins. It was common knowledge throughout the foothills and the glens that twins were only begot from an exceptional night between a man and a woman. The Doctors that ruled over them were an exceptional pair, and it only seemed right they reflected that with their issue.
Months passed and the Marchioness gave birth. The young Earlessa of Gallifrey was now an older sister to two heirs of her own and toasts were made once again. To have three children under the age of three was a mighty task for those unable to afford the luxury of a governess and nanny, but for those who could afford such help and eschewed it… well…
The Marquis and Marchioness were not popular with their people by being conventional.
Things were very much how the parents expected them to be at first: feedings at all hours, day and night, accompanied by lullabies in Ancient Gallifreyan. Nappies and cots and baby-dresses dominated their bedchamber as well as the nursery, turning the rooms into one flowing mess of family. The Earlessa tried sharing toys with her new sisters, wondering how come they were not as interested in her dolls and plushes as she was, and attempted to read her picture books to them. She could not read a word herself, let alone form most of them properly, yet she attempted anyhow. The sisters were already growing close, which was what made their parents sigh in relief most of all.
One day, when the twins were in their fifth month, it finally all came together and crashed down on the Marquis and Marchioness. They had put the girls down for their nap, all three complying without fuss, and they returned to their bedchamber to find everything was silent.
"Do you hear that?" the Marchioness sighed as she leaned against the nursery door. The Marquis was on the other side of the room already, pouring some tea from the tray that had been left for them while tending to their daughters.
"No, what is it?" he wondered.
"Quiet," she clarified. Walking across the room, she sank down on the couch and beckoned her husband to join her. He did, winding an arm around her to rest a hand on her hip and keep her close. "I don't know if we've had pure quiet for months."
"Now that the twins are beginning to sleep through the night, we can start getting proper rest ourselves," he added.
"Rest? Oh, you are a simpleton, aren't you?" she teased, twisting one side of his whiskers affectionately. "I don't know why you've been worrying about being in good enough health to be a father—your Gallifreyan blood has kept you more than capable." She shifted into his lap and draped her arms over his shoulders as he leaned backwards along the cushions and wrapped them up within his cape. "Three children and I'm the one who feels ragged."
"You have a lot more to do with the physical creation and nourishment of our stars than I do," he reminded her. "Could you imagine if Lena was still feeding from you?"
"Don't make me tired before we even start," she laughed. The Marchioness leaned over her husband and kissed him, nearly melting as she recalled how good the action felt. "Keep this up and we might have four children under the age of four."
"No, we should wait a while," the Marquis murmured against her lips. "Bad enough I cannot hold three at once, but the fourth needs time in Papa's arms as well, and that will never happen with three elder sisters fighting for my lap."
"Only my simpleton," she chuckled. Grasping at his hair, she continued kissing him, reminding them of the hunger they had put aside in favor of tending to their children. They were nearly ready to move to their bed when the nursery door opened and a sleepy Lena came shuffling in, dousing her parents in a cold dose of reality.
"Mama, Papa, bad dream," she said, rubbing her eye with one fist and dragging a toy lion by the tail with the other. "Sleep with you?"
"Of course, starlet," the Marquis said in defeat. He waited until his wife rolled off him to remove himself from the settee and scoop their eldest off the floor. Carrying her to the bed, he set her down and let her crawl across the blankets to curl into her mother, who had just laid down herself.
"You don't want to give up naps with Mama and Papa, do you?" the Marchioness asked. She settled in with her husband laying down in her arms, their daughter between them, and hummed contently.
"No. Lena like Mama and Papa naps," the girl replied, snuggling into her mother's breast. With her chest to her mother's and her back to her father's, she made a happy noise and hugged her stuffed lion as she went to sleep.
"What will we do when Astra and Tara are old enough to want to join in on Mama and Papa naps?" the Marchioness whispered across the pillow.
"Let them," her husband said. He took her hand and brought it to his lips, leaving delicate kisses along her fingers, palm, and wrist. "As long as I can see the path I traverse upon at night, I'm happy."
"You are something else," she giggled. She pressed a kiss into his fluff of hair and closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax. It was then that one of the twins began to cry, disrupting the silence. "No…"
"I've got her," the Marquis promised. He rolled out of bed and after leaving a kiss on both Lena and the Marchioness's hair, he disappeared into the next room, from which soon came the soothing sound of a lullaby in Old Gallifreyan that helped all his family drift into sleep.
The following day, both the Marquis and Marchioness decided that they were going to attend court. Lena held onto her father's cape obediently as they walked along the corridors, Astra in their father's arms and Tara in their mother's. The family all settled down in the governance chair, with the earlessa at her parents' feet while she played with a doll. It was a situation that seemed rather unusual to the serdars and other lesser lords, though the fact that the Marquis had finally produced children after being without love or heirs for decades made it something they let slide when it came to proper protocol.
The majority of court was general tedium; permission for buildings, zoning proposals, petty arguments, and the like. Towards lunchtime, however, a messenger came in with an urgent matter.
"Milord, Milady, there is an issue at the Daleki border," she said. "We require your leadership, as it seems the trenches that were dug after the Dalek Wars had been filled in remote spots without our knowledge. The troops are being flanked."
"Dah-lick?" Lena wondered. She glanced up at her parents, who had both gone white as sheets. "What Dah-lick?"
"An enemy, starlet," the Marquis explained, a stone dropping in his gut. After being able to manage the troops from afar for close to a year at that point, he knew it had only been a matter of time before he'd have to leave again. He picked up daughter and doll and stood. "Court is now closed for the remainder of the morning. The Lady Clara shall continue after the lunch hour, should she see it fit. For now, battle preparations need to be arranged."
The entire court began buzzing with excitement and worry as their liege lord and lady carried their children out of the room. Only one person followed them—the one who looked the most terrifying with his ashen, metal-studded skin.
"Milord, do you need me to ride with you?" Sir Daniel asked. They turned into a corridor and the Marquis spun around to look the younger man face-to-face.
"First off: I am Johan. You've done too much for me and my family to consider me nothing more than a liege lord. It's okay to not be your Doctor and Marquis anymore," he insisted. "Second, I need you to stay here."
"Papa okay?" Lena asked. Her father passed her to the other man, leaving a kiss upon her brow.
"No, starlet; there are Daleks in our lands," he said. "Mama is staying here because your sisters are still nursing, and Sir Daniel is staying here to help her with you children and the march. He will stay across the hall, instead of his cottage, and will be there in case anything bad happens."
The Marchioness took Astra in her free arm and reached back into her mind for the proper words in the ceremonial tongue. "Do I follow you?"
"No," he replied, the word ancient and filled with magic. "Best case is I stop this before anything major happens. In the worst…" He glanced at Lena, then at the twins, a sad frown upon his face. "Have Daniel take the children to your father on his way to the capital to alert His Royal Highness. Gather the troops and lead the charge, dearest Doctor."
"I understand," Sir Daniel added, fumbling over the syllables. He then switched over to the common tongue, chuckling at himself. "You talk too fast."
"Get used to it, Daniel, if you want to keep one step ahead of the children," the Marquis said, patting the soldier's shoulder. He gave Lena another kiss and allowed her to hug his face, placed his hands on the twins' hair affectionately, and then leaned down to press his lips against his wife's. Lingering, he murmured against her, "I will make them fear not only me, but the wrath of my moon and stars."
"Go get'em," she smirked. He returned the smile and went off, cape billowing behind him.
"Why Papa leave?" Lena wondered. She held on to one of the studs fitted into Sir Daniel's cheekbones as he looked at her.
"Your papa has many things to do," he said gently. "Don't worry though—he'll be back soon enough."
"Yes, Papa back soon," she echoed, burying her face in his shoulder. "Papa soon."
"There now, it's alright," Sir Daniel said, rubbing her back. He could tell that she was picking up on their worry, and that it would begin to affect her before too long. "How's about we head on over to the nursery? We can have lunch and afterwards play some games while your mama wraps up court for the day. I know you like to play auto-maton."
Lena whimpered, nodding in reluctant agreement. She wanted Papa, but Papa had to leave like before her sisters were born. It wasn't bad having Sir Daniel playing with her, since he was very nice, but she had been having such fun with Papa around for so long that the thought of him leaving again made her sad. She clung to her parents' friend, her future tutor, and squeezed the doll in her arms tightly. While the adults said everything was going to be fine, she wasn't entirely sure she believed it, recognizing the ceremonial tongue as the tongue of secrets and hiding things. Bad things often happened when her parents spoke in Old Gallifreyan, that much she knew.
Weeks passed, on the verge of becoming months, and the Marquis did eventually return, beaten up and looking rather worse for wear. He arrived during the red of night, when the girls were down and his wife was talking with their friend over some tea. The three were very happy and although the rulers of the march had the opportunity to lay with one another, they decided to wait until the following night and merely take pleasure in the fact that they were in the same bed once again. When they woke, their eldest daughter was bouncing on the bed excitedly, glad that her father had returned home. The Daleki forces had been contained and now the family could be whole again.
Their joy was short-lived, however, for that morning another messenger came, saying that this time the skirmish was along the border with Cybera, taking advantage of the recent scuffle on the other front to beat on exhausted Kasterborsians. Sir Daniel did not move out of the bedroom across the hall and back to his cottage as planned, for this time it was the Marchioness that left to butt heads with enemy soldiers. She instructed the men on how to deal with the twins as they were being suddenly weaned onto cow's milk, kissed her eldest on the brow, and went off to the front lines for the first time in over a year.
The two men did their best, with the twins crying well into the night and Lena on the verge of tears by day. It was all they could do to keep the girls dry-eyed and properly fed. A maid who had been nursing her own son until recently offered to help, but they politely turned her down, else risk the ire and irritation of the Marchioness upon her return home. They stuck to their orders and juggled caring for the infants and toddler with increasing ease as time went on, wholly used to the situation by the end of the second week.
Sir Daniel was taking the girls for a walk on the grounds when the Marchioness interrupted her husband's paperwork with her arrival back home one afternoon, nearly three weeks to the day after she had left. She hit the secret latch that popped a wall open behind a bookcase and shoved the Marquis in, taking him on the bottom steps of the passageway because she could not hold out a moment longer. He wheezed out his thanks to gods long-turned academic, praising them in ancient oaths that also uplifted his wife to their heights and beyond.
That night Sir Daniel was able to move back to his cottage, and the earlessa and her heirs slept with their parents surrounding them. Things were again as they should be: cozy and loving, not wanting to part nor give the children cause for worry.