A/N: The first two sections of this chapter come before chapter ten, The Academy Brat, meaning the rough ages start there and end with everyone as follows: Johan at 63, Daniel at 46, Clara at 44, Lena at 13, Astra/Tara at 11, Sterling at 7, Maglina/Oriana at 5, and Seren as a newborn
Chapter Eighteen: The Evening Star
It was breakfast when the Marquis and Marchioness decided to tell their children that they were going to be adding one more to the family, expecting the birth to be late in the year, after the snows fly. Breaking the news of Seren was not going to be an easy task, the parents knew, but the initial shock was better than expected. The twins both dropped their forks in their eggs, the youngest two gasped excitedly, while the eldest…
"Another one?!" she whined. "Mama, Papa, I'm almost old enough to legally have children!"
"We've been trying to have another child for a while, starlet, and now happens to be the time we've succeeded," the Marquis lied. He sliced the sausage on his place calmly and took a bite, trying to appear nonchalant. "Your mama and I wanted to keep it a secret until we knew for certain and now we are."
"Are we going to get a baby sister?!" Maglina squealed excitedly. "I want a baby sister that me and Ori can play with!"
"We don't know what the baby will be, but we do know that we will call them Seren," the Marchioness said. "Having a younger sibling around will be good for all of you."
"Mama, I can change a nappy in my sleep," Lena argued.
"Yeah," Astra chimed in. "It's not exactly like none of us have ever had any practice."
"Sterling and Maglina cannot, and now you get to help teach them," her father said sternly. "A baby sibling is coming whether you want one or not."
"Maybe Seren will be a boy, and then I can finally have someone around here to beat up," Tara muttered.
"Boy or girl, you are going to stop that," the Marquis replied. He turned his attention over to Sterling, who so far had been incredibly quiet. "What do you think? Do you want a little brother or another little sister?"
"Well, a brother might be nice, but I don't mind having sisters," the boy admitted. "No matter what we get, it will be a long time before we can do anything really important with the baby. When the baby is my age, I'll be fourteen and when the baby is fourteen, I'll be twenty-one. Isn't that a big difference?"
"There are eight years between Maglina and Lena and they get along splendidly," the Marchioness mentioned. "Brother or sister, I can assure you that everything will be fine."
"I don't know about that, Mama; not everybody is a Maggie," Lena said, her voice strained.
"Lena Anthea, you will hold your tongue," her mother ordered. Just then, the door to the breakfast room opened and the children's tutor walked in, his own daughter at his heels.
"Alright team, ready for the day's lessons?" he asked. The older three girls all cursed thankfully in the ceremonial tongue and quickly left the room, while Sterling and Maglina stayed, the latter hugging Oriana.
"We're getting a new baby!" she exclaimed. "Mama and Papa are getting us a new baby sister!"
"A new baby sister?! Wow!" Oriana marveled. She looked at the Marchioness, her brown eyes wide in excitement. "Really, Lady Clara?!"
"I'm having a baby—I don't know yet if the baby is a boy or a girl, so don't get your hopes up."
"I don't think you can do a lot with a baby though," Sterling told his friend.
"Talk while you head on over to the schoolroom," the tutor said. "Go ahead; I'll catch up." The children said good-bye and went into the corridor; the second they were out of an earshot, the tutor stared at his employers, eyes bugging. "Another one?!"
"They're our children, Daniel. We can have as many as we wish."
"But Johan, I'm going to be teaching six children between the ages of eighteen and four! I didn't think I'd have to unearth the early Primary documents until Lena has children!"
"If you don't like it, then quit," he smirked. "You do have a barony to run, after all."
"Clara, is this what you want?" the tutor asked, ignoring the Marquis. She glanced up and him and nodded.
"Yes, it is," she said. "I want this baby just as much as I wanted all my other children. This is no more an accident than Lena was."
"That doesn't make me feel much better."
"Don't worry Daniel; you'd likely be the first I run to if there were any problems between Johan and me. I'm not one for lying to you these days."
"Sure?"
"Positive."
"Good; if you need help, Martha's coming back home in a month. Now if you excuse me…" He then turned and left.
"This better not be a mistake," the Marchioness said, exhaling heavily.
"None of our starlets are mistakes," her husband assured. He took her hand in his and brushed her knuckles with his thumb. "Don't let the children or Daniel make you feel badly about this."
"I don't believe they were trying to make me feel bad…"
"…yet that is now how you're feeling," he replied. "I'm not going to let you shoulder guilt because of anything anyone says; don't let those thoughts bring you to a bad place."
"I'm not going anywhere, you daft thing," she said. The Marchioness picked up his hand and brought it to her lips. "I simply worry, as a mother should."
"Then remember that you have help." He let go of her hand and traced her jaw before going back to his food. "We better hurry up; if those depositions aren't gone through by the time we hold criminal court tomorrow, someone's sentencing could be rather detrimental to his state of being."
"This is true."
It was the red of night when the Marchioness woke up, her husband no longer in her arms. He instead was slid down the mattress, cuddling her hips and murmuring in the ceremonial tongue to their unborn.
"Johan, why do you insist on doing this?" she moaned. "You didn't talk to the other children nearly this much when they were in the womb."
"Our Seren is the last—it's unlikely there will be a seventh star for our sky so I must enjoy this while I can," he defended. "Do you hear that, starlet? Mama is being cranky again."
"Mama is only concerned about Papa's sanity," she retorted. The Marchioness put a hand to her stomach and felt the slight curve where their child sat, growing, living, and with any luck, thriving. "I did not marry the Mad Marquis Johan, nor is he the man I fell in love with."
"Seren, listen carefully," he said, pressing his forehead next to his wife's hand. "The only things I am truly mad about are my moon and stars—you and your siblings and your mother—and nothing will change that."
"Careful, Johan." She began idly playing with his curls that desperately needed cutting. "You and I may be ready for Seren, but our other children aren't."
"Give them time."
"Our time is limited—don't forget that."
"I cannot, even if I tried." He pressed a kiss to her midsection and shimmied back up to the pillows, gazing into his wife's eyes, lit by the blood-red moon. "What Sterling said at breakfast the other day has been weighing on my mind—we will be so old when Seren comes of-age. Can we really handle such a thing?"
"You've barely aged since our wedding day and this entire thing happened because you were convinced I've remained in my twenties while you are clearly not," she frowned. "Don't start this mess again. If we need any help as Seren ages, then that is why we have Lena and Astra."
"…but isn't that unfair to them?"
"It would be if that Gallifreyan hardheadedness you gave them didn't run in families," she said. "It will help them prepare for when they have their own children one day."
"…which is why you leave out Tara."
"Of course; and I love her all the same."
The Marquis slid down slightly and wrapped his arms around his wife, snuggling into her chest. "The moon in my sky, my savior, my love—you are so generous with your affections that all the march and kingdom knows instinctively how fortunate I am when they gaze upon our issue." He pressed his forehead against her collarbone and grinned between her breasts. "Just think of the fun we shall have when you are completely barren."
"You dirty old man," she giggled, tapping the back of his head lightly. They fell asleep as so, entwined and cuddling, uncertain what their youngest child was to bring to the family aside from soiled nappies, sleepless nights, and much more love than their siblings realized.
Months passed, the rains turned to snows, and finally the Marchioness's pains began. The labor was a long one—longer than any of her previous childbirths—and she needed such peace and quiet afterward that only her husband was allowed in her chambers the entire day following the birth, to the point where Sterling and Maglina stayed with Lena in her room in order to give their mother as much quiet as possible.
A couple days went by and eventually the Marchioness felt well enough to see her other children, wanting to introduce them to their new baby brother while their father was off stuck in a session of court. Only the younger two came, as the older three were busy with sparring and the Academy.
"Wow, he's just as tiny as Lena said he'd be!" Maglina marveled. She crept up on her toes to look at the tiny bundle in her mother's arms. "Mama, why couldn't our Seren be a girl-Seren? Ori and I want a baby sister."
"You know I can't control whether or not I have a boy or a girl just as much as you and Oriana can," the Marchioness chuckled, stroking her daughter's hair. While Maglina was disappointed at their newest family member, Sterling was quietly curious. "I think you'll have plenty of fun with Seren once he's old enough to play. Your sisters had fun with Sterling, if I recall."
"Yeah, but that's Sterling and he's good at playing pretend and tea party and March and stuff," Maglina frowned. "What if he's more like Tara?"
"Now that I cannot say," she smirked. She was about to divert the topic when the door from the corridor flew open and a small streak of blue and brown came bolting in and charged her way to the Marchioness's side.
"Mum told me we could see the new baby!" Oriana exclaimed as she gulped down air. "Can I see? Can I see? Please?"
"It's a boy -Seren," Maglina pouted. Oriana poked gently at the swaddled infant and examined him carefully.
"Are you sure?"
"We're sure," the Marchioness chuckled. "Would you like to hold him?"
The little girl's eyes lit up. "Yes, please! Can I Mum?! Can I?!" She turned her attention towards her own mother, who had just closed the door behind her.
"Are you sure it's alright?" the physician asked, draping their cloaks on a peg before walking over. The Marchioness nodded and slowly moved her legs over to give Oriana some room on the settee.
"Of course it is, Martha. Everyone needs to learn how to hold a baby." She had the girl sit down next to her and she carefully put Seren in her arms. "See? Like this. Oh, no dear, keep his head in your elbow or his neck will flop about—it's not strong enough to support the weight of his head yet."
"Okay," Oriana nodded. She furrowed her brow as she concentrated on holding the baby just right, with Maglina climbing up to sit next to her and Sterling leaning over them by arching up on his toes. The physician sat down on the other side of her daughter, groaning in exasperation.
"One of these days, that girl is going to run right past a guard on his first patrol and get arrested for attempting to invade Castle Gallifrey," she muttered.
"A little too excited, was she?"
"Just a bit."
"Don't worry Martha—if anyone gets the privilege to ignore the guards, it's the three of you."
"Remind me of that when our daughters start fighting because they're emotional, teenaged wrecks," the physician chuckled. She glanced over at her tired friend and gave her a knowing smile. "Now you can't lie and tell me that Seren was practice making perfect. You think you've learned your lesson?"
"Oh, I think so," the Marchioness sighed, leaning back into the settee. "I just hope our daughters inherited something that will make childbirth easier… and to think that Astra and Tara were the ones I had the least issues with."
"Why do you think I only ever wanted one, even before I became Baroness Coal-on-the-Hill?" the physician laughed. "You love all your kids though, and that's what matters most. Not everyone has the ability to raise six children with as few problems as you do."
"Yeah, but…" The Marchioness looked at the children and exhaled before turning back towards her friend, exhausted. "It's just that Seren is so much younger than the others, and…"
"…that just means you'll have plenty of help as he grows up. You're the Doctor, Clara, and growing up in Gallifrey I learned that the Doctor is the one that can make things go right. Don't worry; you'll find a way and everything will work out." The physician lightly touched the head of the infant in her daughter's arms, stroking his hair and gently tapping his nose. "You're going to be very loved here, Seren. I can guarantee that."
"Mama, may I hold Seren now?" Sterling asked. "I'd like to hold my brother, please."
"Martha, I'm sorry, but can you…?"
"One baby transfer, coming right up," the physician said, standing and kneeling down in front of the settee. She had Sterling sit in her seat and she passed the newborn between the children. Once the brothers were together, she smiled gently at them. "You've got a big responsibility now, Sterling."
The boy's pale eyes went wide in horror. "I do…?"
"Of course—there are some things only brothers share, just as there are some things only sisters share. Elder brothers are important for younger brothers, because they get to help them when their sisters can't."
"…oh," Sterling nodded quietly. He rocked Seren in his arms, an action practiced on half a dozen dolls both in play and in preparation for the youngest sibling's birth. Craning his head down, he loudly whispered his first piece of advice. "Stay away from Tara; she's not a brother and she'll throw you into the block bin if she gets the chance." He thought for a moment before adding, "Astra's okay though."
"What about me?" Maglina demanded. She balled her hand into tiny fists and jammed them on her hips. "I'm you sister too! And what about Ori? Or Lena?"
Sterling held Seren slightly closer and bent down again. "Lena and Maggie are nice until they're cross and Ori's not our sister but Maggie thinks she is so it's okay to think that if you want. I don't think she's our sister, but that's up to you." He glanced up and snickered as he saw their sister pouting. "We will all take care of you, Seren, brother or sister or Ori, so don't worry. That I think we all agree on."
Around the earldom and march, news of the Marchioness's sixth child was met with mixed emotions. Some had been happy for their ruling lord and lady for all five of the births, yet as things had gone on, many became divided in their reception of the news of more children being reared in Castle Gallifrey. The Earlessa Lena had been prayed for and toasted far and wide, while her twin sisters Astra and Tara were generally seen as a security measure, one to reinforce the line of Johan Lonan and Clara Oswald for in case their eldest daughter died childless. When it was announced that the Marchioness had given birth to a son, some thought that Sterling might truly be the one to inherit their parents' title and lands, whilst others pondered the possibility of the couple merely wanting a boy. Their youngest daughter, Maglina, was met with confusion—why another child? Wasn't four enough? Had the Marchioness forgotten her tea? It was good for some to know their rulers still held passion in their hearts, and some were unsure what to make of that knowledge.
Seren, the youngest of the brood, was the child that caused the most varied discussion overall. For the soldiers and servants and staff that knew that the Marchioness was growing barren, it was near a miracle to some degree. To the people in the city, it made them shudder to think that their marquis, once the cold, dour man that earned himself the epithet Black Spectre by no mere accident, was anything close to a sexual being well into his sixties. Even his Gallifreyan blood that made him age slower than his wife didn't help, as his public personality had long-hardened to be cantankerous and wizened even in his youth. The farmers and the laymen, across the valleys and speckling the towns, presented all sorts of theories over their ale mugs and meat pies. It was a credit to the people and their lord and lady, however, that none of the conspiracies involved an illicit affair with a man other than Lord Kasterborous and Gallifrey—that much was clear. The Marquis and Marchioness were quite clearly in love with one another, although they very rarely said the word itself, and that was what kept the public thinking they were careless together. Most arguments could be summed up in that the Marquis had to keep his hands off lady wife during the red of night when their children were just beyond a doorway and shielded by a wall.
What they didn't think of, was that it was the Marchioness that needed to keep hands off her lord husband.
Very soon after the birth of her youngest, at least in comparison to with her other children, the Marchioness had to take control of the march in her husband's absence. It was the Dalek Empire again, as they were wont to be, and he had to trudge off to the front with a wife on the mend and nursing. It felt odd for their age that their eldest was a teenager though their youngest was on the breast. There was an actual baby to bid farewell to—an infant who only knew when he was hungry or tired—and it again prompted the uncomfortable thought of one of their children possibly not remembering a parent should one fall in battle. Wars did not wait for babes to age, however, and the Marquis marched off towards the never-ending fight whilst the Marchioness took to the governance chair with Seren in her arms.
"I refuse to conduct business while an infant distracts from the issue at-hand," the guildmaster said one day during a private office session. He folded his arms over his chest and stared at Seren. "Kids are wonderful, but their place is in the nursery, not in an office."
"I'd beg to differ, but we do have a contract to discuss," the Marchioness frowned. The man wasn't one she enjoyed dealing with, for he was gruffer than the Marquis on a bad day and was about twice as thick on a good one. "Lena, come here, please."
"Coming, Mama," she replied. The teen put her pen down and crossed the room, taking her youngest brother from their mother. She walked back over to her desk and propped the baby up against her chest. He wriggled in protest, drooling into his sister's shoulder and grabbing fistfuls of her dress.
"That's… better," the guildmaster scoffed sarcastically. "She is the earlessa, but she's still a child herself."
"I do need some assistance when it comes to my paperwork with my husband gone, considering I'm down a normal hand," the Marchioness quipped. "Now, do you have the updated contract for your guild's operation within the city limits?"
"That I do, and my council members and I have a little bit of issue with the new clause about the tax increase," he said, sitting down in front of the Marchioness's desk. He took a folded set of papers from his breast pocket and opened up to a specific page. "Two percent overall is a lot, especially for a smithy."
"We haven't adjusted the tax rate in a long time, and it's a half-a-percent a year over the next four years. I think it will be enough time to adjust your prices," she replied. "Overall, it should be a reasonable increase."
"Maybe for a merchant or a mason, but we're already getting squeezed by the scabs that come in from the countryside underselling wares and driving our prices down even further."
"We've done investigating into the countryside smiths and their wares are actually more expensive, not to mention that few have the ability to travel into Gallifrey often enough to impact the city's pricing," Lena deadpanned from the other side of the room. She rubbed her fussy brother's back and kept on reviewing the paper in front of her. "If anything we should increase your tax rates by two percent for the next four years and bring you about level with the country smiths."
"Why, I never…!" the guildmaster sneered, turning towards the teen. "What gives you the right to speak in such a manner?! Do you even know how to calculate the rate at which we should be paying?!"
"Yeah—I was the one who did it," she stated. "I even had my sister check my numbers."
"Which one? The five-year-old?"
"No, the eleven-year-old who could attend the Royal University next year if we allowed it, but will instead take correspondence courses in the fields at which she excels the most," the Marchioness said firmly. "Now please behave, or I will have you escorted out. How you became guildmaster, I have no idea."
"Simple: I'm the only one with enough balls to stand up to your lord husband and negotiate," he replied.
'Few enough brains is more like it,' she thought. "How about this? Shut up and take your contract back for the council to sign, or send someone else to negotiate. Is that clear enough?"
"When does the Marquis get back? I can actually talk with him."
"Papa's not coming back until the Daleki troops decide that their side of the border is the one they wish to be on," Lena interrupted. "My wee brother here could be rolling over in his cot before that happens. It is the downfall of our papa being who he is, after all."
"Milady, I demand that the earlessa leave the room before we continue negotiations," the guildmaster scowled. "She thinks she knows what she's talking about, but she is too young to understand."
"Now that, I can agree on—she has no idea what she's talking about," the Marchioness agreed. She looked at her daughter disapprovingly as she stood and approached her. "Your papa will be back in time to see Seren roll over for the first time." She picked up her son and bounced him gently in her arms. "That's right, darling; if Papa was there for his other stars, he will definitely be there for his Evening Star."
"Excuse my impudence, milady, but just hire a nanny and get it over with," the guildmaster glowered. "You and His Lordship are not doing yourselves any favors by pretending that you can both run the march and the earldom and raise six children as if you were baseborn commoners without two coins to rub together. What do our tax increases go to if not a governess to raise all your little spares?"
"The roads, for one, similar to the sort that you'll be traveling on in a few moments," the Marchioness said. "Lena, please." The earlessa grumbled and stood from her chair, heading over to the guildmaster's side. She took one of his arms and twisted it back, not enough to injure him, but just enough so that she was able to ease him from his seat and force him out of the room. After closing the door behind him, she remembered his guild's contract and brought it to him, dropping it to the floor.
"Come back when the pudding in your brain's been let to set and firm up," she told him, voice flat and bored. She turned her head towards the row of seats, where a few other people were waiting to be seen. "Next in line, if you please."
Seeing the scene before them, those that were readying to have a private audience with the Marchioness were beginning to rethink their desires. With the help she had via her older children, their liege lady should have been able to relax a moment and keep from being the ruthless working mother the rumors depicted her as. The next person in line gulped and entered the office though, knowing that no one would really have their Marchioness any other way.