A/N: I needed fluffs, so I wrote fluffs.
Rough ages are as follows: Johan at 51, Daniel at 34, Clara at 32, and Lena having recently turned 1.
Chapter Twenty-Six: The Baron's Courtesy
News had spread quickly of the return of Rupert Daniel Pink from the depths of Cybera and how he was able to valiantly keep hold of his mind and allegiances during his years captive. Soon, the entire kingdom was chatting, from the Kasterborsian Border Forces, whom picked him up as a half-starved husk, to his native Gloucester, and even the capital. His Royal Highness himself heard about the miraculous man, inviting him to his court to hear the story first-hand. By the time the tale was told, the King was so moved that he went to his office and found a list of lands resting in stewardship, offering the man with metal in his face his pick.
Ever modest, the hero turned down the King's offer again and again, until it was clear he was not leaving the monarch's offices unless he chose a land to govern. He chose Coal-on-the-Hill, a sleepy little barony in the north of the kingdom where the seasons changed without fuss and his neighbors were too busy with their own problems to bother with him. Within a month, the freshly-made Baron rode towards his new home, a terrible mess of nerves and uncertainty. The steward took his ousting well, having long wanted to be free of the responsibility, and before long, even those who disliked the idea of a new ruler—uplifted from the soldiering class with origins not of the lands he now governed—accepted the metal-studded man as their new liege lord.
"This feels so awkward," the Baron groused as he sat down to dinner. He had invited the Marquis and Marchioness over for a spell to help him adjust to his new position. While he knew a great deal of how running a swath of the kingdom worked, he was also aware he was not trained from birth as his guests were, and their assistance could prevent a gaffe later on. "I don't know all these rules for dining and holidaying and this and that—why can't I simply be me?"
"Unfortunately, the times to be yourself are going to be few and far between," the Marquis said. "No one has threatened to depose you yet—it could be worse."
"Once the people become used to you, then you can relax and let yourself shine through," the Marchioness assured. "You're a smart man, Daniel, not to mention kind and thoughtful. Even if it takes a while, I'm sure the Hillians will come to love you." She glanced over at the pen over on the other side of the room and watched as her daughter played with her toys. "Lena will inherit our lands one day, and it could very well take until she wears the coronet for her to be wholly accepted. At least your tenure is already here and it cannot be prevented."
"I guess," the Baron shrugged. He picked at his food and frowned. "It still doesn't seem right though."
"It's about what's for the good of the kingdom and the lands we hold influence in," the Marquis explained gravely. "His Highness saw in you the ability to lead and nurture a people; we will teach you what you need to know beyond how to eat and when your public holidays lie."
"Thank you, truly," he replied. He too saw Lena playing in her pen and his lips twitched in a smile. "While you both are here, I want you to be able to take a couple days for yourself—I'll watch over Lena."
"Is that wise?" the Marquis wondered.
"I still plan on being her tutor when she comes of schooling age, so she needs to be comfortable with me," the Baron justified. "I've been her sitter before."
"He has a point, Johan," the Marchioness said. "I think once we have gotten a few things down, then we'll plan on a short holiday. When we return, we can continue with assisting you in whatever capacity you need."
"Sounds like a plan," the Baron said. "Johan?"
"I suppose," he grumbled, attempting to not show his embarrassment. He was aware that the Baron knew what a few days alone with his wife would be, the thought of which made his ears burn in flustered anticipation. It was such a relief to him that the Baron put aside his long-held feelings for the Marchioness, that the Marquis did not want to slight him even the smallest iota. He respected the man; he wasn't merely a strong back and a soldier's stance as he had previously thought, but someone like him, even without his new title. The Baron cared about things and people worth caring about, and no amount of humble claims towards merely desiring peace and quiet would convince him otherwise.
Dinner continued on, the three adults changing the subject to discuss the itinerary for the following day. Everything was going along splendidly.
About a week later and the Marquis and Marchioness decided to take their holiday. With Lena gently tucked away in the crook of the Baron's arm, the parents donned common clothes and rode the back of the same horse as they went in search of their planned getaway. They rode for nearly an entire day before coming to an outbuilding on the far edge of the barony. It was a simple hut, with one room and an outdoor privy, yet the sight of it was more welcome than the couple could ever imagine.
"We're lucky this was listed in Daniel's property," the Marchioness said as her husband forced the key to turn in the rusted lock. Their horse was grazing happily in a shabby paddock while they attempted to continue on their mission. "I don't think this place has been used since the last Baron's tenure."
"…at the very least," the Marquis added. He finally tricked the door into opening and they gained access to the hut. It held up incredibly well for two generations' worth of neglect, with the worst thing being the amount of spider webs that coated the furniture. "He just wants us to clean his getaway cottage."
"His 'getaway cottage' is the one on the castle grounds for the tutor of the Doctor's children," she reminded him, grabbing a broom and combating the webs and dust. "Help me out, will you?"
"Of course, dearest."
Before long, the tiny house was well-dusted and being aired out, the sweet wind gently blowing in and giving the building new life. The Marquis brought in their packs—bedding and food for their stay—and eventually dinner was eaten and he was snuggled with the Marchioness in front of a small fire.
"Do we have anything like this?" she asked, rubbing her face against the rough cloth of his shirt. She was sitting in his lap, his arms wrapped securely around her.
"Anything like what?"
"…like this house," she clarified. "Is there a second house somewhere in the march that is currently unused? I don't think I've seen anything about one in the finances."
"There is a fine manor that lies in a valley in the west of the march. I should arrange to have someone escort you there," he said. "They're fairly self-sufficient as far as how they gather their funding. The last time I had to send money was over ten years ago."
"Why can't you show me?" she teased, playfully flicking the end of his nose. He gazed down into her eyes, trying not to mourn what was lost long ago.
"It has mainly been used by the Earls of Gallifrey as their residence when not needed at the front or in the city. It's Lena's now."
"That shouldn't mean a thing."
"It's where her older sibling died—I haven't been there in over thirty years."
"Oh…" the Marchioness muttered. She held her husband's arms closer around her, keeping him secure. "Jarlshall, yeah?"
"That's it." He kissed the top of her head and lingered, feeling the silkiness of her hair compared to his rough whiskers. "Lena will use it one day and by that time I might be able to return. We could even retire there, if that's what you end up wanting. As much as my hearts have healed, I don't know what that place will do to me at this point."
"If it were for any other reason, I'd say you were being silly, but I understand," she said. She then stood and held out her hand, offering a boost up. "Join me for bed?"
"It will be my honor," he said. After a boost up from his wife, he put out the fire and helped her make the bed. The mattress was a thin one, military issue that they'd brought along from Hill House, and it fit in the rough frame well. With sheets and blankets in place and the couple changed into their dressing gowns, they snuffed out the lamp and cuddled together underneath the blankets.
"It's not often I get to see you in blue moonlight," the Marchioness hummed. She traced her fingers across the lines of the Marquis's face, taking him in with the wan light from outside. "There's something a bit more regal to you like this."
"Whatever milady says," he replied. He took her hand in his and kissed the knuckles in reverent adoration. "This is a treat for me as well, for you are stunning no matter which night sky you grace with your presence. I hope our daughter grows into her own with as much confidence and integrity as her mama, for that way she shall be unstoppable."
"Mmm… flatterer," she chuckled. She then turned him over with great ease, pushing him onto his back so that she could prop herself above him. Taking hold of his mouth with hers, she kissed him as she eased his hands towards her hips.
"This feels naughty," he murmured against her lips.
"Only because we've gone without for so long," she smirked. "Lena being able to come into our chambers has been both a blessing and a curse." She tilted her head back and allowed her husband to begin trailing tickling kisses down her throat. "We are so fortunate to have one another."
"I am truly the luckiest man alive, to have an heir from a wife as loving and devoted as yourself." His fingers began to make quick work of her nightdress, hiking it up underneath the bedding. "The moon in the sky is a dim, dark, dismal substitute for the ray of light I hold in my arms this very moment. You illuminate the way that was once lost to the night—to think I nearly allowed myself to miss the glory and honor that is your love. Any man to give over his heart to you would be humbled by the experience, yet you've chosen me, whom deserves it least of all."
"…and yet I chose the only man in the kingdom with two hearts to give; possessing them both is my pleasure and joy." She gripped his nightdress at the chest as she felt his hands grab hold of her bare thighs, the pads of his thumbs stroking the insides gently. "Take me, Johan; let me experience that humble love first-hand."
He rolled them over and he did.
A few days had passed before the Marquis and Marchioness packed up their things and rode back to Hill House. Picnics in the dappled sunshine and walks along quiet trails were very relaxing, yet they had to return to not only their friend, but their daughter as well. The couple found them that evening in the library, the Baron reading happily to the enthralled Lena. Soon as the adults noticed one another, however, the reading lessons stopped and the toddler was allowed to bounce over towards her mother.
"Mama! Mama!" Lena squealed in delight. The Marchioness picked her up and gave her a kiss on the cheek, as well as a hug for good measure. Thrusting her hands outwards, Lena then opened and closed them in the direction of the Marquis. "Papa! Papa!"
"Come here, starlet," he beamed, lifting the girl from his wife's arms. After hugs and kisses, she aggressively snuggled in his chest, clutching his cape possessively. "How was she, Daniel? Not too bad, I hope."
"She came to my bed crying for you two at night, but otherwise she coped rather well," the Baron said. He then laughed awkwardly. "Guess what?"
"Is everything alright?"
"Yes, but my neighbors came by while you were gone."
"Which neighbor?" the Marchioness wondered.
"Baron and Baroness Shoreditch," the Baron explained. "Apparently the previous Barons Coal-on-the-Hill and Shoreditch were distant cousins, and I now know all about the history between the two lines and how the Shoreditch line is locked out of inheriting Coal-on-the-Hill, hence the stewardship."
"Was he trying to bully you into rescinding your title?" the Marquis asked. "I can help convince him otherwise, if necessary."
"No—he's a drunkard and she's not that bright, though too kind a soul to do something like push me out of my title. I feel bad for their son: still of primary school age and knows he's more put together than his parents." The Baron gently touched Lena's cheek, making sure to not scratch her with the metal caps on his knuckles. "He got along splendidly with this little one though; a complete natural."
"Papa? Pway?" Lena asked excitedly. The Marquis shook his head and kissed her brow, causing her to giggle.
"No playing anymore tonight," he said, "because Mama and Papa are very tired from the road. Now where is your lion? It's time for bed." He put Lena on the ground and she scuttled off to fetch her plush toy on the other side of the room, giving the adults a chance to talk. "She is a ball of energy."
"Yes; thank you again for taking her, Daniel," the Marchioness said. "That was precisely the break we needed."
"Help me conduct the monthly open forum tomorrow and we'll call it even," the Baron replied. It was all agreed and they dispersed, the host to his quarters for the night and his guests to theirs. The Marquis and Marchioness put their daughter down in her cot and dressed themselves on the other side of the room, sliding into bed content.
"As much as I loved being with you, my back is glad for the softer mattress," the Marchioness laughed into her husband's hair. She pressed her chest against his back, keeping him close. "The moon in my sky—I'm glad everything has worked out so well for us."
"Not a day goes by where I'm not falling more in love with you," he whispered. He took her hand and kissed her fingertips tenderly, ending with a small laugh. "Would you look at who decided to join us this evening?" The Marquis let go of his wife's hand and opened his arm for the toddler scaling the side of the bed, her toy lion in-tow. "Did you miss us that much, starlet?"
"Mama Papa no go," Lena demanded. She curled up against her father, whimpering quietly in the night. "Mama Papa stay now."
"We won't go, not any time soon," the Marchioness cooed. She propped herself up in order to see her daughter and stroked her fluffy curls affectionately. "Mama and Papa missed you too. You were a big girl and behaved while we were gone, and we're very proud."
The family went to sleep all entangled in one another that night. Getting a few days off was romantic and well-appreciated, but that didn't mean the Marquis and Marchioness were unable to enjoy their heir's presence. True happiness was often difficult to find, though they had it, and for that they were glad.