Title: The Complications With Love
Author: homesweethomicide13
Rating: T
Pairing: Several
Warning: Mentions slash & implied threesome
Disclaimer: Not mine
Summary: Nothing should stand in the way of love, no matter what form it comes in. Part of the DQ Themes Challenge.
Author's Note: This is part of the DQ Themes Challenge, found in the Deltora Quest forum. If you would like to take part, head on over there! The challenge closes on 31st January.
The Complications With Love
Part 1
He knew he should be asleep, like everyone else. It was late at night, possibly early morning by now, and yet he was unable to sleep. Perhaps it was because he had spent the past seventeen years or so sleeping outside, on the hard, cold ground, unable to slip too far into sleep in case a threat lay nearby. Maybe the sudden change to sleeping in a warm, comfortable bed in a guarded fortress was too much. It would definitely take some getting used to, even though he'd spent most of his early life doing exactly the same thing.
Finally giving up on any hope of sleep, he threw the sheets back and sat up, running a hand through his untidy hair. He rose from the bed, expecting the room to be cold and uncomfortable, and yet he found he was still perfectly warm. Sighing, he crossed the room to the window and pulled back the drapes, hoping for a moment that he had in fact slept and it was actually morning. No such luck. The dark sky welcomed him as he stood at the bare window.
Knowing he'd never get to sleep now, he turned from the window and walked over to where his clothing was folded neatly on a chair. He quickly pulled them on and slipped into his boots, only lacing them loosely. Running his fingers through his hair, he opened the door to his bedchamber, and stepped out into the hall. Now a light chill whipped at his exposed skin, but he ignored it. He strolled quietly through the halls, still unable to believe he was back here.
He'd expected a lot of it to be changed, tainted by the dark forces that had dwelled inside it for almost seventeen years, but very little was different to what he remembered. Of course, he was in a different wing of the palace than before, but he'd done the rounds of the place as soon as he could, and even the wing he was used to hadn't changed much. He actually wished it had. Maybe it would have been easier on his memories if there were drastic changes. Something to stand in the way of the painful reminders of a life he'd lost.
He hadn't realised where he was walking. He hadn't really been paying much attention to it. Aimless wandering was something he used to do in the past when he couldn't sleep. He looked around and realised his feet had brought him to the palace kitchen, and he noticed that a lamp had been lit inside it. A faint yellow glow flickered beneath the door. He hesitated a moment, wondering whether he should investigate or simply walk on – but his curiosity got the better of him, and he found himself pushing open the heavy door.
He wished he'd walked on.
The sharp, emerald gaze of Doom stared back at him from the table as he loitered in the doorway. Even though it had been revealed that Doom was on their side and was, in fact, Jarred – and Jasmine's father – there was something about him that made him feel uncomfortable. They'd never really seen eye-to-eye. Too many differences. Plus, he could admit, he was still bitter about losing to him in the Rithmere Games.
"Good morning, Barda." Doom murmured, raising an eyebrow. "Am I correct in guessing you are finding sleep difficult, also?" The kitchen door swung shut behind Barda as he took another step into the room, nodding briefly. "Well, in that case… care to join me for a drink?" Barda registered, finally, that there was a bottle of whiskey on the table in front of Doom, and a half-empty glass in his hand. He hesitated. There was always this awkward tension between them whenever they were together, and whenever they were alone together it seemed to get worse. They argued bitterly about everything, and those arguments usually escalated to shouting matches and attempts at intimidation. Lots of testosterone floating around needlessly.
Then again, Doom had offered a chance to get past that, hadn't he? He could have kept the whiskey to himself, even told him to move on and leave him alone, but he hadn't. He'd asked if he'd like to join him. Now, Barda had been brought up to be polite, well-mannered, and to give everyone a second chance. Which is why he couldn't deny Doom this chance, and found himself fetching a second glass and taking a seat opposite him. Doom poured out some whiskey, setting the bottle back down again once Barda had a full glass, and he'd refilled his own.
Both men lifted their glasses and tipped them at each other in a gesture of masculine bonding, before taking a sip. A silence descended upon them that was filled with tension, as Barda had expected. An activity that was supposed to help relax someone wasn't at all relaxing when it came to the two of them.
"Do you have some sort of issue with me, Barda?" The direct question shouldn't have startled him, but it did. He met Doom's eyes across the table, and was silent for a moment.
"What makes you think that?" He knew that answering a question with a question was a sure sign that yes, Doom was right, but he didn't care. He took another swig of whiskey, keeping his eyes focused on Doom.
"You never seem to be comfortable around me. Like you do not trust me."
"You have done many things in the past that do not warrant my trust." Barda shrugged one shoulder casually. "I should think it perfectly natural to be uncomfortable around someone who kept me locked in a room for more than three days."
"That was routine. I had to make sure-,"
"Do not feed me that line about Ols." Barda cut in before Doom could finish. "For a start, you kept us in that room for longer than the standard three days. You knew we were not Ols. You just wanted to keep an eye on us."
"Perhaps." Doom sighed. "I had my reasons. But that does not mean you cannot trust me."
"If I am to ever trust you, Doom, it will take more than that." Another tense silence fell upon them. They sat there, drinking slowly in silence, until Doom spoke again.
"You are very much like your mother." He knew he probably shouldn't have brought her up when he noticed Barda's hand clench tightly around the glass, and he made a very stiff, deliberate gesture of lifting the glass to his lips to drain the contents. "She was a good woman, Barda. I only wish I had gotten to know her better." Barda met the other man's eyes, and sighed.
"Do not speak of her." He murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. "It is still… painful." He averted his eyes, staring down at the old wooden table. He jumped a little, startled, when a warm hand closed over his arm.
"Blaming yourself will only make it more painful." Doom told him. "I know. I may have forgotten what had happened to me before escaping the Shadowlands, but I remember now. I started blaming myself for Anna's death, even though I am positive she would have died no matter what happened. I voiced these thoughts to Jasmine, once, and she stared at me and told me I was being stupid and to get over it." His lips quirked up into a smile at that, and Barda found himself mirroring it. Typical Jasmine. "It was not my fault. And neither was it your fault that your mother died."
"I could have saved her. I should not have returned to work. I should have left with her right then and there." His other hand clenched into a fist. "And when I heard that she had died, I just… left her."
"You were doing the right thing. If you had not have left, you would have been killed. Endon and Sharn would have swapped lives with Anna and myself, and raised their son, but the quest to restore the Belt would have gone a different direction. Even if the decision to send Lief had been agreed on, he would not have had you as a companion. He may not have even gotten past the Forests of Silence. The quest would have been lost. Perhaps your mother knew you were destined to be a part of something big, something that would right the wrong that was about to fall upon Deltora." Doom smiled again. "She was surprisingly insightful, and she just… knew things."
"That she did." Barda's smile was faint, but it was there. "She never believed the rumours, you know." He noticed Doom frown slightly, and so he went on. "Everyone said you tried to kill Endon out of jealousy, and that is why you ran away."
"That would have been Prandine's doing. He always wanted a way to get rid of me." Doom growled.
"Well, it worked, did it not?" Barda shrugged. "My mother swore the stories were lies. Said she knew you well, and knew that you would never make an attempt on Endon's life. She believed in you right until the end." He met Doom's eyes. "I guess I did, too." Doom's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He hadn't expected that, not at all. "I had grown up hearing about her day, about the things that had happened. Naturally, you and Endon came up a lot. She used to talk non-stop about the two of you, how you were like brothers and such like. I did not believe the rumours. I knew you were a better person than that."
"Well… thank you." Doom smiled. "So, if you had trust in me all those years ago, when you had never even met me, why is it so hard for you to have trust in me now? I am the same person, just a little older and less ignorant to the world outside of the palace."
"You are not the same man, Doom. Surely even you can recognise that. Nor am I the same man that fled the palace almost seventeen years ago." He shook his head a little. "Too many things have happened, too many events to change us. You have seen terrible things, done terrible things to defend yourself and your cause, and they have shaped you into a different man." He reached for the bottle of whiskey, poured another glass. "However."
"However?"
"The first time we met, in Tom's shop, I sensed something that could have been familiarity. It is true that we never met before that moment, but there was something about you that intrigued me. I recognised a warrior, a hardened one at that, and someone who had seen far too much death. Someone who, perhaps, had been sheltered from it for many long years." Doom smiled a little, nodding in understanding. He'd felt exactly the same thing. "You were a bitter man, but I could understand that. I recognised the determination in your eyes. You had a mission, and nothing would stop you from completing it. Which is partially why I do not feel any grudge against you for knocking me clean out in the Rithmere Games."
"I only did it to stop you from falling into the trap I was sure had been set up for the winner." Doom offered an explanation with a shrug.
"Perhaps, but it also felt good, did it not?" Barda smirked. "I must say, Doom, until meeting you there has only ever been one man who could overpower me in a fight like that. I was impressed."
"Well, thank you." Doom grinned. "If I am honest, no one has ever been able to put up a fight like that against me. Not even Glock." The mention of the brutal Jalis made Barda cringe. He knew men like that, had seen them amongst the palace guards he'd worked with. Too thirsty for blood. "We were quite evenly matched, I would say."
"Indeed." Barda agreed. "I am perhaps taller, but you make up for that in will power." Doom nodded.
"You are younger, too, no doubt, but you have experience on your side." He sipped at his own whiskey. "Perhaps we should have a rematch one day – strictly friendly, of course. It would be interesting to see who would win when there are no stakes at risk."
"Perhaps we will." They settled into a comfortable silence, and Barda realised that the tension between them had lessened. The beginning of a friendship, perhaps? It would be nice to have someone to call a friend – someone who wasn't a great deal younger than him, or a woman.
"You fascinate me, Barda." He jerked out of his thoughts at the sudden statement, and stared at Doom in surprise. "Min often mentioned you in passing when she chatted away whilst working. I admit I never really paid much attention, but I do remember small details. You were training from the age of seven, am I right?" Barda nodded, wondering where this was going. "I have been doing my research on what I missed after I was forced out, and I remember an ex-palace guard mentioning that you were in line for the title of Chief or Deputy from the moment you became a guard. Some responsibility."
"I was not the only one. There was a group of us." Barda muttered, starting to feel uncomfortable again. He disliked talking about his past. He wasn't the same man anymore, and so hearing and talking about the man he'd been was awkward.
"Even so, that must have boosted your ego somewhat." Doom smirked. "Four years later and the title of Chief was almost definitely yours."
"It was never decided. It could have gone to the other candidate." He busied himself with filling up both their glasses, avoiding looking at Doom.
"Perhaps, but even if you had only received the title of Deputy, it would have been something to be marvelled at. One of the youngest in history, had it happened that way." Doom sipped his whiskey, watching Barda carefully. "And to go from all that glory to begging on the streets, without a single complaint… to take on the responsibility of watching over a friend's unruly child as he roamed the streets of Del… to willingly risk your life on a quest most would deem impossible, with two unpredictable companions that often walked right into trouble…" Doom shook his head slowly, a smile on his face. "You were ready to give your life to save theirs so many times, without any hesitation. You gave them strength when they needed it, and cracked their heads together when they were being stupid. You were everything they needed on that quest, and more." He put his glass down and leant closer to Barda across the table. "When Lief asked you to take up the role of Chief of the palace guards, you were ready to decline it, even though you had worked all your childhood to reach that goal, because you felt you did not deserve it." He placed a hand on Barda's arm. "You are an incredible man, Barda."
Later, Barda would tell himself that it was the alcohol in his system that led him to what he did next. The only thing running through his mind at that moment were the words Doom had said, and how honest his voice had been whilst saying them. He truly believed his own words. He believed he was incredible. With barely a moment's hesitation, Barda found himself leaning forward and pressing his lips to the other man's.
It had seemed like the most natural thing to do. His mother had always told him that love was love, no matter who it was with. He saw nothing wrong with it. Of course, he expected Doom to pull back and smack him at any moment. He didn't expect Doom to kiss back. He didn't expect Doom to tangle his fingers in his hair, holding him in place.
He didn't expect Doom to break the kiss, stand up, walk around to his side of the table, and hold out his hand. He didn't expect to feel almost shy as he took Doom's hand. He didn't expect to feel nervous as Doom helped him to his feet and led him out of the kitchen, their fingers still linked together.
Nothing would happen between them that night. A few more shy kisses and gentle conversation as they settled down in Doom's bedchamber. He hadn't expected to feel so comfortable as Doom cradled him in his arms like something precious, slender fingers stroking his hair. He felt relaxed and warm against Doom's chest, listening to the older man's voice as he told a story from his Resistance days.
When Doom came to the end of his tale, he glanced down at the man in his arms and smiled.
"At least one of us will be getting some sleep tonight." He murmured softly, pressing a kiss to Barda's head. He wouldn't tell him about the incident earlier that evening, when he'd laid his hand on the Topaz. He'd expected to see Anna, of course, but it had been Min who'd come to him. She'd asked him to look after her 'little boy', and love him like no one else would. Because she knew, just like she always knew. She'd been watching, she'd said. She'd seen everything, and she knew. She knew he had feelings for Barda. She knew Barda felt the same.
Because Min just… knew things.
Part 2
Celebrations were in full-swing in Del, with people from all over Deltora rejoicing over the return of those taken hostage by the Shadow Lord. Questions had been asked, of course – how did the three heroes manage to free the slaves? How had they just appeared in the palace gardens? What magic had sent them home? Those who had been enslaved could not answer their questions, of course. None of them could remember anything from the moment they ran from the Arena to the moment they stood up, dazed, outside the palace – and the three heroes remained quiet about exactly how they'd brought everyone home.
Just happy to have their loved ones back, the people set aside their curiosity and instead focused on celebrating. There was little food to make a feast, but everyone did their part. The palace's ballroom was filled with laughing, dancing people. For a moment, there was no famine, no despair. There was only joy, and laughter, and relief.
Lief sat at the far end of the ballroom, surrounded by his friends and family. Sharn and Doom were seated close by, watching the celebrations with smiles on their faces. Marilen and Ranesh were dancing together not far away, with Josef keeping an eye on his young friend. Some of the newest friends they'd made – Claw, Gers, Brianne – were gathered in one corner, preferring to keep to themselves. Jasmine sat beside him, feeding pieces of fruit to Filli, Kree sat comfortably on her other shoulder.
He glanced up with a grin as he saw Barda striding over to him, the pale blue and gold of his uniform standing out from the rest of the people around him. The big man looked tired, but he had a smile on his face. He'd noticed, over the past year or so, that Barda had seemed a lot happier. He didn't know why, exactly, but it was nice to see him smile more. Barda took a seat the other side of Doom, possibly sitting a little closer than he should.
"This celebration is fantastic!" Lief grinned, turning to the two men. Jasmine looked up from feeding a square of apple to Filli.
"It is a little too busy for my liking." She commented. Kree squawked in agreement. "Too many people. Easy enough for an enemy to slip through undetected."
"Ever the mood killer, Jasmine." Barda muttered, but the smile on his face was a fond one. "I assure you, my men are being extra cautious this evening. I would be surprised if a mouse went by unchecked tonight."
"These are, of course, the same men he regularly complains to me about." Doom cut in with a laugh. Barda scowled playfully at the other man. "I am only telling the truth." Before Barda could get a chance to reply, Doom suddenly rose to his feet with a grin on his face. "Ah, Lindal! I had wondered where you were." The three companions turned as Lindal strode over to them. They'd only met Lindal the day before, and if Lief was honest, he felt intimidated by her. She was as tall as Barda, and fiercer than Doom. He'd only met a few people from Broome in his reign as king, but he'd heard plenty of stories by now. Their ancestors were said to be savages – and looking at this giant woman now, he could honestly believe it.
"I found myself dragged into a small drinking game with some of the guards." She shot a glance at Barda, registered the uniform and recalled the information she'd been supplied with yesterday, and quickly added, "the ones off duty, of course."
"I am not surprised." Barda smiled. "So, who won?" If Barda was completely honest, Lindal fascinated him. The only women he'd come across in his life were either painted palace dolls – for which he had no interest whatsoever – the starving, ragged citizens of Del, and fellow beggars. So when faced with a woman who could very easily beat him into submission, he found himself completely taken with her.
"I did, of course." Lindal laughed. "Those men cannot handle their drink." Barda found himself grinning. Oh yes, he was definitely going to have to get to know Lindal a lot more.
-x-
A few hours later, Barda found himself out in the gardens, staring up at the stars, a glass of whiskey in one hand. He'd stepped out for some air, and he could hear the celebrations still going strong somewhere behind him in the palace. He lifted his free hand and unbuttoned the top two buttons on his shirt, loosening his collar. He had intended to change out of his uniform before he'd joined the others, but there had been a lot of work for him to do beforehand, and he'd run out of time.
"Getting too much for you?" He whirled around, startled, and relaxed visibly when he spotted Lindal walking towards him.
"Pardon?" He murmured, trying to calm his breathing. How had she managed to sneak up on him like that? She smirked.
"The party." She gestured vaguely behind her. "I figured it was getting too much for you since you are all alone out here." She stood beside him, and he smiled.
"Just needed some air." He took a sip of his whiskey, watching her closely.
"Ah, this is nothing compared to the celebrations we have in Broome." She laughed, her hands in her pockets. Barda had not failed to notice her very masculine style of attire. To a man who had grown up around females in long skirts and dresses, it was unusual to see a woman dressed in typically male clothing, but he actually found it rather attractive on her. Not that he'd admit it, of course.
"I would not know." He smiled. There was a long pause in which neither of them spoke, but their eyes remained locked in an intense gaze. Then, finally, she broke the silence.
"Have the uniforms always been that colour?" She asked in a casual tone of voice, but it was evident to Barda that she was just looking for something to talk about. If he was honest, he'd been desperate to break the silence himself.
"As far as I know, yes." He shrugged. "They are supposed to be royal colours."
"I would have thought violet or red were royal colours, or navy. Not pale blue." She frowned a little. "Although… I have noticed that yours is not the same colour. Yours is a darker blue."
"That is because I am the chief. It is a way to mark out my superiority over the other men." He informed her. "Of course, anyone who knows that has the ability to single me out from the other men – so if an assassin was told to take out the chief, then all they would need to do is look for the darker uniform."
"Still, from what I have heard, you are not exactly to 'take out'." She grinned, and Barda matched it with his own.
"And who exactly has been talking about me?"
"Doom." He knew that name shouldn't bring a smile to his face every time it was mentioned, but he couldn't help it. "He talks about you a lot." There was a knowing smile on her face that made him shift uncomfortably. "It is nice to finally meet the man he is absolutely infatuated with." Now a faint blush rose to his cheeks, and he tried to force it back.
"I… I do not know what you are talking about…" He murmured pathetically, and Lindal laughed.
"Oh, please. I have known Doom long enough to read him like a book. I knew there was something between the two of you the moment I saw you together." She winked. "I shall keep it a secret, do not worry. However, it is a mighty shame."
"Oh?" Barda frowned, confused.
"Well, you are both very fine men." Her eyes travelled down his body, then back up again to his face. "Very fine. It is a shame that the two of you are so involved. I am sure plenty of women will be disappointed." Her eyes locked with his, and Barda smirked a little.
"Women like you, perhaps?" He took a step closer. "Dooms talks about you, too, you know."
"Is that so?" She tilted her head slightly, a smile crossing her face. She was aware of how close he was now, but she didn't care.
"Mm. He seems to… admire you, rather greatly." He paused. "And I, for one, would like to get to know you a little more, Lindal." They both knew it was coming, so neither of them were surprised when their lips met – the briefest of kisses, but still aflame with desire. What they weren't expecting was for someone nearby to clear their throat to gain their attention. They sprang apart as if electrocuted, and turned in the direction of the newcomer. All colour drained from Barda's face. "D-Doom!" He was confused when he saw no anger, no hurt, no disappointment on the man's face. In fact, he was smiling.
"Well, I am glad the two of you have met." He closed the distance between them, and pulled Barda into a rough kiss. "The two people I adore the most. I am very pleased that you both get along so… well." He smirked slyly, and Barda grinned.
"This was your intention all along." He murmured, running a hand through Doom's hair before bringing their lips together again. "You sly dog." They both turned to look at Lindal, who was watching them with a grin.
"Please, do not stop on my account." She laughed. After a nod from Doom, Barda held out his hand.
"I have a better idea." After only a moment's hesitation, she slipped her hand into his.
"Fine. As long as I get to take off that uniform."
Part 3
Very few people understood their relationship. Even fewer dared to try – but everyone accepted it. It might not have been what was classed as 'normal', but a huge crowd gathered at their wedding, and celebrated with them afterwards. Their closest friends and family, of course, had not even been surprised. When they'd stood before them and announced that they were together and intended to marry, none of them questioned it. They all did their part to help out, without even been asked to. There had been questions eventually, but they were light-hearted questions and only asked out of simple curiosity.
Ranesh and Steven had aided Doom and Barda respectively on the morning of the wedding, whilst Marilen and Sharn fussed over Lindal, with Jasmine sitting nearby unable to understand why the fuss was needed. Doom and Barda stood, hand in hand, at the end of the aisle, waiting for Lindal to join them. The three of them were married – their relationship made official. Lief and Jasmine had grinned at each other as Doom all but pounced upon Barda, joining their lips in a kiss filled with love. They'd laughed as Lindal had pulled Doom away so that she, in turn, could kiss Barda. And Barda had turned and winked at them as Lindal and Doom finally shared a kiss.
The celebration went on into the night. At around midnight, a slightly intoxicated Barda – supported by Lindal – had dragged Doom away from their friends, and the scarred man had winked over his shoulder at them. There was no doubt in anyone's mind of what the three of them were about to do.
It was definitely a night none of them were going to forget. Doom held Barda close against him, lips against the back of the younger man's neck, one hand gripping his hip, his other hand linked with Lindal's. Barda's arms circled her waist, her fingers tangled in his hair, their lips locked. At the height of their passion, Doom and Lindal's eyes met, and they shared a smile.
When they lay together later, sprawled across the bed, Lindal and Doom's hands joined, resting over Barda's hip. One of Barda's arms was curled around Lindal's waist, his back pressed to Doom's chest. Even after Barda had succumbed to sleep, Lindal and Doom remained awake, observing and admiring the beautiful man that lay between them. Whilst their love was mutual, she and Doom had one thing in common – they both adored Barda the most.
With their marriage came a family. Their first child, a beautiful daughter with cerulean eyes and a smile that mirrored Barda's, was the brightest light in their life. At Doom's suggestion, they named her Min. A son came next, with green eyes so familiar he could only be Doom's. They named him Lazarus, Laz for short. Lindal gave birth to twins next – a girl with dark brown eyes, and another boy with the same eyes as his older brother. After much discussion, the girl was named Elfie, and the boy was named David. A fifth child followed soon after – a boy with the brightest of blue eyes. This son was named Scout. Finally, their last child was another boy, with soft brown eyes – they named him Felix.
There was no doubt as to which man had fathered which children, except for the last. It was simple enough to work out – those with blue eyes were fathered by Barda, and those with green were fathered by Doom. Felix, however, had inherited his mother's brown eyes – and since all three parents had the same dark hair, there was no way to tell which man was his father. Not that it mattered to the parents, of course. Felix was as much Barda's son as he was Doom's, regardless of the genetics involved to create him.
Deltora had been at peace for several long years now, and Lief was still the land's most favoured King since the time of Adin. His daughter, Anna, had many admirers in the city of Del – lots of young men who bought her gifts and sent her flowers. Lief, though still very protective of his little girl, thanked each and every one of them. Of course, Anna's best friend also received many such gifts, and no wonder – Min was a beautiful young woman. The only difference between the two girls was that Min had two very protective fathers who were not so accepting of all their daughter's admirers.
The two girls were, at this very moment, sitting together in the gardens, picking flowers to give to Sharn on her birthday, with Min's younger sister Elfie. Not far away, Anna's younger brothers Jarred and Endon battled with wooden swords against Laz and David. Lief and Jasmine sat on a bench watching the children play, with young Josef sat beside them, his nose in a book. Lindal wandered over, her youngest son balanced on her hip. She joined Lief and Jasmine on the bench, and Felix clambered into Lief's lap almost instantly. He was very fond of his 'Uncle' Lief.
The three adults glanced over to the small pond a few feet away, where Scout was happily feeding the ducks. Doom stood watch beside the boy, his hands in his pockets. Scout looked up at his father, and Doom smiled back fondly, extracting one hand from his pocket so he could ruffled the boy's hair.
With a united cry of 'daddy', three boys and one girl launched themselves towards the tall man approaching them from the palace, his blue uniform as perfect as always. He dropped to his knees as they reached him, and scooped them all up into a tight embrace. When he sent them all back on their way with a kiss to the forehead each, he rose to his feet, and stepped forward to wrap his arms around his husband.
"Tough day?" Doom murmured softly, stroking Barda's hair. All he received in response was weary grunt, and he laughed quietly. "Come, come relax." He pulled back enough to kiss his husband, and then he took his hand and led him to a second bench opposite the one that seated Lief, Jasmine, Lindal and Josef. When he sat, Barda leant against him, head dropping onto his shoulder. Lindal rose from the other bench, and sat down on the other side of Barda, and he held out his hand for her to take.
People often wondered if she was simply there to act as Barda and Doom's way of having children – but they were wrong. She knew that the bond between the two men was stronger, but she also knew that both of them loved her as much as she loved them. She stared around at her six children, and smiled. People might not understand their relationship, but it didn't matter. They had a fantastic family, with beautiful children, and she had the two most wonderful men in the world as her own.
Author's Note: So yeah. Was going to be a three-shot, ended up a one-shot with three 'parts'. Oh well... -homesweethomicide13