"I was. My father— though that seems too strong a word, really— left before I was born, as you recall, and as far back as I can remember Mother never got involved with another man. I don't know if she didn't want to risk it again, if she hadn't gotten over him. Or if it just wasn't as important to her as other things— like me, and her work." She sort of shrugs one shoulder. "I asked plenty of times and never got the same answer twice. I wouldn't really say I was lonely, since we had each other... but it would have been nice to have more children my age around."
She reaches up to brush his bangs off his face. Her expression is soft, the melting tenderness he brings out in her through hardly more than existing in her presence.
"It may be a little late to have this conversation..." Since he's near giving birth to his third round of broodlings, and no longer the right species to get her pregnant even if they tried. "But I'm glad that we're on the same page. Our children will never want for love. Or playmates!"
Just as she says "playmates," there's a knock at the door and a familiar chorus of kupo!s from outside.
"Delivery for Ser Aymeric, kupo!"
Ariane sighs. "Make the door open itself, darling. It's cozy right here."
"Kupo-po? Is anybody home?"
The door does not, in fact, open itself. Reluctantly, Ariane rolls over, taking her time in pushing up to her feet while the moogles outside chatter amongst themselves. When she finally answers the door, a good half dozen of the flying fuzzballs stream in, each carrying a colorful, clearly handmade basket in their tiny paws.
"You, er, seem to have forgotten the delivery part...?" Ariane asks, nonplussed, looking at the empty baskets.
"Oh, no, kupo. These are the delivery!" one of the moogles chirps, setting theirs down next to Aymeric's head.
"One of the men that's working with us at Barr Lehs was talking to Mogton and he said, 'don't put all your eggs in one basket'—"
"And we heard Ser Aymeric had eggs!"
"So we brought him enough baskets for all of them, kupo!"
Woven by moogle paws to moogle scale, each of the baskets might fit a single dragon egg.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2021-12-24 06:24 am (UTC)She reaches up to brush his bangs off his face. Her expression is soft, the melting tenderness he brings out in her through hardly more than existing in her presence.
"It may be a little late to have this conversation..." Since he's near giving birth to his third round of broodlings, and no longer the right species to get her pregnant even if they tried. "But I'm glad that we're on the same page. Our children will never want for love. Or playmates!"
Just as she says "playmates," there's a knock at the door and a familiar chorus of kupo!s from outside.
"Delivery for Ser Aymeric, kupo!"
Ariane sighs. "Make the door open itself, darling. It's cozy right here."
"Kupo-po? Is anybody home?"
The door does not, in fact, open itself. Reluctantly, Ariane rolls over, taking her time in pushing up to her feet while the moogles outside chatter amongst themselves. When she finally answers the door, a good half dozen of the flying fuzzballs stream in, each carrying a colorful, clearly handmade basket in their tiny paws.
"You, er, seem to have forgotten the delivery part...?" Ariane asks, nonplussed, looking at the empty baskets.
"Oh, no, kupo. These are the delivery!" one of the moogles chirps, setting theirs down next to Aymeric's head.
"One of the men that's working with us at Barr Lehs was talking to Mogton and he said, 'don't put all your eggs in one basket'—"
"And we heard Ser Aymeric had eggs!"
"So we brought him enough baskets for all of them, kupo!"
Woven by moogle paws to moogle scale, each of the baskets might fit a single dragon egg.