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Sunflower and Daffodil were fighting again. This was becoming less and less common, as they were approaching the age of thirteen, but when one decided it was her turn and the other didn’t watch to switch, it quickly devolved into arguing and sometimes turned physical. Normally, they kept their squabbles between the two of them, but sometimes, they got their siblings involved. Usually, it was Rahn, a fact which led him to start escaping when it looked like his older sisters would fight.
“It’s my turn, Sunflower! You got to play with the mystel all day yesterday!”
“But you played with him for two days! I want to play with him for two days!”
It had been the same thing back and forth, for the last ten minutes at least. G’raha hadn’t heard them until Rahn ran in, still dressed in his dancing clothes, and begged him to do something. “Daddy, Sunflower and Daffodil are fighting, and I can’t practice!”
“Rahn, why don’t you play with your Cloud toy?” G’raha suggested. “You’ve been practicing for two hours already.”
“I can’t play with him if they’re fighting,” Rahn complained. “They’ll make me pick and I don’t want to!”
He closed his eyes and sighed. It wasn’t like this was some kind of surprise; the eldest two had been acting out ever since Marigold had been born six weeks before. He knew they were scared their parents didn’t love them, and therefore took it out on each other. Rahn had responded to the event by spending a lot of time dancing outdoors, while Aster had begun to ask when the baby would be big enough to play with her. Frequently.
“All right, let’s see if we can get your sisters to stop fighting.” He got to his feet and held out his hand for his son, who took it eagerly. Together, they walked out of the house to the front yard, where the girls were supposed to be playing while their mother slept.
Aster sat under the cherry tree, playing happily with a Wind-up Ryne and a play tea set. Rahn’s toy glaives were left on the ground by the fence. As for the twins, they were still squealing and pulling a very familiar minion between them. Once again, he felt some measure of embarrassment as the Wind-up Mystel met eyes with him. The Wind-up G’raha Tia toy lay next to them, waiting to be claimed by the loser of this argument.
They were the twins’ favorite toys, even more than the mammets of the Leveilleur twins, and the girls regularly fought over which minion they wanted to play with more. It embarrassed him either way. It’s never quite going to stop being strange that they want to play with mini versions of me. It was odd enough when Moonflower kept them when we parted. He couldn’t wait for them to stop fighting like this; if Aster’s birth was anything to go by, it would be a few more months before they were assured of their place in the family, and could go back to behaving. Mostly. Sunflower and Daffodil had inherited their mother’s endless curiosity and love of climbing, and therefore often ended up where they shouldn’t.
Most fathers had to rescue their children from trees. He had to rescue his from the tops of buildings.
“Girls,” he said sternly, interrupting their argument, “what have we said about playing nice?”
“Daddy, it’s my turn,” Sunflower complained immediately.
“No!” protested Daffodil, and it looked like they were about to start again.
He crossed his arms and frowned. “There’s no need to fight about this. Do you want to wake up Mommy?” They looked down guiltily and then let go of the minion, which collapsed to the ground. Then the poor thing scrambled to its feet and scuttled to hide behind him. Mammets didn’t quite have emotions, but they still didn’t like nearly being torn apart. G’raha crouched down to pick up it and the other minion. Both of them huddled against his chest. Clearly, the two girls had been playing rough. “I think I will hold on to these for today. Please play nice, or you’ll have time out.” Normally he wouldn’t even think of it, as being twelve and a half meant they were aging out of such punishment, but it would be a few more months yet before he and his wife would have to switch disciplinary tactics.
They looked between each other again, and then looked back at him. “Sorry, Daddy,” they mumbled, their ears tilted downwards.
He patted their hair. “Why don’t you ask Aster if you can play with her? Your sister might be more fun to play with.”
“But what about Rahn?” Sunflower asked, her red eyes wide. Daffodil stared at their brother, who was still hiding behind their father.
The boy instantly clung to G’raha’s leg. “No! I want to dance! I don’t wanna play tea party today!”
“Please?” begged his sisters, this time with a new voice added in. Aster had trundled over with the Ryne minion at some point, and now her red eyes were begging Rahn to play.
He knew he couldn’t win; his shoulders fell and he nodded. “Fine, fine, I’ll play.”
“Yay!” the three sisters cheered, and then pried him off their father’s leg to go back over to the tree.
G’raha retreated some distance, and after he was certain the twins were playing nice, he went back inside and set his lookalikes on a higher shelf. It wouldn’t necessarily keep Sunflower and Daffodil away from them, but at least they would be safe for now. Once that was done, he felt a pair of arms wrap around him and a sleepy purr vibrate his shoulder. “I’m sorry, did we wake you?” he asked quietly.
Moonflower hummed. “They woke me up with their fighting, but I was honestly too tired to get up. When I finally did, you were already handling it.”
“They were rather noisy.”
“Maybe I need to get another one.”
“No, Princess, please.” The idea of her getting another set of lookalike minions was even more embarrassing than what she already had.
She giggled and kissed his cheek. “They’re already Daddy’s little girls, why not let them have their own copies of you?”
“Because it embarrasses me? How many times do I have to keep saying that?” It had been years but he still felt like a broken record.
“Keep saying it, Raha, because I don’t think they’ll listen.” She outright laughed when she saw the look on his face, and then pulled him to the nursery. “It’s cute, I promise.”
“It would be better if they had dolls of you,” he said. “Perhaps I should ask Tataru to make some.”
Moonflower smiled and leaned against the crib to check on Marigold. “Perhaps then the mammets will smile, since they’ll be reunited with me.”
After a little over thirteen years of marriage, not much could fluster him anymore, but that most certainly made his cheeks red. “Perhaps. Perhaps that would be a good reason to have the things around.”
She looked at him affectionately. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”