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“Uncle Gaius!!”
The toddler's delighted screams echoed through the hallways of the mansion Lon'qu had come to know as his home for four years now, his tiny hands waving in the air excitedly as he raced towards the ginger standing in his sitting room, looking around as though curious about their interior decorations. If Lon'qu didn't know the man as well as he did, he wouldn't suspect that he was looking for something to pilfer. Unfortunately, he did, and knew enough to warn the servants to keep a close watch on the man's hands all the time.
“Do not trip, child.” He reminded sternly as he followed his three year old running barefoot on the carpet, his thrilled steps still not big nor fast enough for him to completely outrun his father, who kept at his heels with big strides.
The swordsman's lips turned up slightly in a semblance of a smile as Morgan reached his uncle Gaius, immediately burying his face in the ginger's baggy pants, his hands clinging tightly onto the fabric. Gaius laughed, unconcerned about the toddler stuck to his clothes, and bent over, ruffling his unruly hair that very closely resembled Lon'qu's own untamed mane.
“Look at you!” He exclaimed, hand still in his child's hair. He looked over at Lon'qu with his eyebrows raised in pleasant surprise. “He's heaps bigger now. And he looks more like you than the last time I saw him! It's like having a little Lon'qu! Hey, little Champion.” He scrunched up his nose when the three year old replied with a, “Hello, uncle Gaius.”
“Your Mama's eyes look like yours, little Champ.” He commented, pinching the boy's cheeks. Lon'qu agreed fondly. Those emerald eyes were a perfect copy of his mother's. The boy giggled, “I think it's the other way around, uncle Gaius.” The ginger grinned back. The child's rapt smiles at his uncle was Gaius's cue to pick him up, grunting with faux exertion as Morgan screamed in pure delight, his feet kicking in the air with the bottomless energy all three year olds seemed to possess. As the boy in his arms wriggled and squealed in glee, Gaius's juniper eyes flicked over to Lon'qu's dark ones, the joy in them mimicking his own at reuniting with an old friend and under such happy and peaceful circumstances.
Gaius had aged. And gracefully, might he add. His hair that had often reminded him of the dessert marmalade had grown, brushing the tops of his shoulders ever so slightly. There were more scars on his face and arms now, presumably from the jobs he still insisted to take, although he stood taller and prouder than Lon'qu ever remembered the thief had. Still, despite the seemingly eternal time the friends had spent apart, his chest was awash with a warmth from seeing the ginger again, the familiarity of it all, of his easy, boyish smiles and the ever-present scent of candy that surrounded him, made him almost sigh in relief. He was safe. They both were safe, and as for the child in Gaius's arms…
“Do not raise him too high, Gaius.” He frowned, finding the way the thief would pretend to put the toddler down on the ground only to rapidly swing him up again over his head alarmingly identical to the way his wife would pretend to make their child fly. His eyebrows creased together as his friend continued to bring the boy into the air carelessly, eyes crinkling with his own childish delight at Morgan's peals of laughter and his pleas to be thrown higher. “Do not drop him, Gaius.”
Gaius craned his head over his shoulder to throw him an assuring glance, although his smile was way too wide for Lon'qu to find it comforting. “Hey, don't worry, I won't drop-- agh; woah!”
Lon'qu's heart nearly stopped as he shouted his child's name, “Morgan!” and rushed to save him from breaking his feet as the screaming toddler slipped through Gaius's fingers, freefalling toward the ground before Gaius caught him again with lightning-fast reflexes, honed from many years of battle. He raised the happily squealing child up high above his head, laughing his head off with childish glee. “Just kidding, Lon'qu!”
The swordsman gripped his hand to his throat, trying to even his breathing, his usually squinted eyes wide in outrage at the thief. It had been long since his last battle, his wife forcing him to retire ridiculously early for his own safety, but still his reflexes did not rest, adrenaline coursing through his veins as the "prank" Gaius had pulled threw him into a panic. Oh, gods, what would Natalie say if Morgan had indeed been dropped? Gods, she'd leave him— and their child would grow up motherless, and crippled, and hate him for letting this happen, and—
“Hey, lighten up, would'ya Champ?” Gaius's light, carefree voice interrupted him from further beating himself up, and he scowled at the thief for nearly making him lose his head. Morgan was giggling with hilarity at having been able to nigh terrify his father, and Lon'qu let himself breathe in relief knowing his child was alright. He stepped closer to the conniving pair and carded his hand through his boy's hair, frowning at the small thing. “You gave me a scare, Morgan. You should not do that to your father.” He managed a lighthearted huff at the child's unapologetic smile and Gaius's proud grin.
“On the contrary, I found it rather comical.”
Lon'qu turned around, head tilted upward, to admonish his newly-awakened wife for encouraging Gaius's antics but the words quickly died on his lips at taking in the sight of his wife standing at the balcony that overlooked their sitting room, her night-black hair falling in a disarray over her shoulders and a soft, sleepy smile painting her face. She was clad in naught but a dark-hued, strapless nightgown that did little to cover most of her legs and did not cover any inch of her shoulders nor neck either.
He swallowed his words thickly as her emerald eyes glimmered in amusement, although he found quickly that they were not resting on him but on the man who had their child in his arms. His attention snapped back to Gaius as Morgan cooed excitedly, “Mama!” his tiny hands outstretched toward her as if he could reach her if he tried hard enough. Natalie chuckled softly. “Good morning, Morgan.”
Gaius shifted to hold the boy in a single arm to wave excitedly at Lon'qu's wife. “Heya, Bubbles!” Natalie returned his smile fondly. It had been a while since they had last seen each other, and she did not try to hide her joy at seeing an old friend safe and still jocund as ever. Lon'qu shot down a short pang of jealousy at the way their eyes met in familiarity, and at the way Gaius's eyes flicked quickly over her scantily clad form discreetly, a sight Lon'qu selfishly thought to be reserved only for him. Gaius was their old friend, and nothing else. He was much too clingy for either of them. His lips threatened to tug upward as his wife yawned shamelessly, the action faintly reminding him of a kitten.
“Tired, Bubbles?” Gaius grinned cheekily, and she raised a brow in puzzlement. Lon'qu mentally braced himself for whatever was coming next, because the thief's roguish smile was sure to be accompanied by his usual mischief. “Had a long night, huh?” He laughed in impenitence as they both processed the meaning of his words, cheeks slowly turning crimson.
His wife's suddenly widening eyes and reddening face mirrored his own as she stammered her way through an excuse. “I, well — we, erm, didn't… uhm—”
“Yeah, sure you didn't.” Gaius waved it off with a carefree flick of the wrist and Lon'qu played off the pink on his cheeks by frowning at the thief and taking from his arms his son, who was smiling widely in accordance to his uncle's glee and was blissfully unaware of his uncle Gaius's devilry that had both his parents flustered. He set down the child on the ground and Morgan turned toward him, eyes wide and pleading, “Can me and Uncle Gaius please play in the garden?”
His gaze softened as he smiled down at his child— how could he say no to that face?— and he turned to Gaius. “Gaius. Morgan wants to play in the garden with you.” The ginger's face considerably brightened— he was more so a child than his outward appearance suggested— and he clapped his hands together. “Alright! Let's go play, Little Champ!”
Before he marched right through the swordsman hand in hand with his son, Lon'qu put his hand on the other's arm, his tone growing dark, “And if anything should happen to him…” He left the rest of his sentence hanging in the air, watching Gaius's face go slack as he imagined the possible consequences, and he willed his nervosity away with a titter. “Alright, Champion, no need to stab me over such a trivial matter; really!”
He frowned after the ginger as they walked away from him, “My son's safety is no trivial matter, Gaius.” He let them pass through the door to the mansion's garden before adding, in a loud voice to ensure he would hear him, “… and I assume neither is the safety of your precious candy.”
The thief's head whipped around as though he had been slapped, his juniper eyes widening in alarm at the lollipop held firmly in Lon'qu's hand, secretly taken from him when he least expected it. “H-hey! Give that back! That's one of a kind, you know?! I got that from one of the Annas–” Morgan uncaringly tugged his uncle further out the door, mindless of the ginger's protests.
Lon'qu turned and walked up the stairs to his smiling wife, those emerald eyes that their son had thankfully inherited twinkling with mirth at the hint of a smirk on his lips. He returned the playful quirk of her eyebrows at her, proud of his own mischief. Even myrmidons can have a little fun.
“Check on Gaius, would you?” His wife asked lazily, halfheartedly trying to kick his bare form off the bed. He resisted with half a smile on his lips, her strength not even a quarter of his. “Ugh, hngh—!” He let out a surprised gasp as her cold feet planted firmly on his back and a burst of strength from her finally pushed him right off the bed onto the carpeted floor. He rolled around the carpet first, groaning in pretend pain as she smothered her victorious giggles into the pillow before he came up to kneel beside their bed, glaring at his again disrobed wife. She peeked at him with those emerald eyes from under the covers impishly, shoulders shaking in a failed attempt to hide away her laughter. “… go on, then,”she urged, throwing him his trousers from her side of the bed, “see if he's playing his usual games... and make sure our son is fine. For all we know, they might just be arranging a candy store heist.”
“Knowing Gaius,” Lon'qu muttered as he dragged his clothes back on, “that might just be what is happening in our garden.”
There were three lollipops stuck in his child's mouth.
Three lollipops.
Lon'qu rushed over to his child, who was sitting on the ground in front of Gaius, who also had a lollipop in between his lips— the swordsman would've found the sight of him eating candy nostalgic had his child been in a normal state— and was grinning proudly as if he had bred a winner. Kneeling by his child, he started pulling the the sweets out of his son's mouth one by one, and wiped the boy's drooling mouth clean with the sleeve of his yukata, his mouth agape at Gaius in disbelief; “How in the name of the gods did you fit three lollipops/ in my son's mouth?!” How was that even physically possible?
The ginger only grinned back, unremorseful, and Lon'qu quickly realised his son was reaching for the sweets he had confiscated. “No more, Morgan.” He scolded sternly, disregarding the crestfallen look on his young face. He turned his attention back to Gaius and squinted his eyes accusingly at him. “What on earth were you doing, exactly?”
The grin on the thief's face disappeared quickly enough once he realised that Lon'qu was not taking any of his usual rubbish. Shrugging, he tried to play down his crime. “I just wanted to share my sweets with him! He's fine, see?” He gestured to the boy in defence, who still looked quite miserable at having his candy stolen away, by his father, no less. “So you stuck three lollipops in his mouth?” The dark-haired man countered, starting to gather his son in his arms to pick him up. Gaius merely shrugged indifferently. “He said he wanted to see how many he could eat.”
“You are an adult, Gaius,” Lon'qu continued scolding the ginger as he stood, his boy pouting as he clung onto his father's collar, knowing he was an accomplice in this crime, “and you should not encourage such behavio—”
Gaius's head tilted curiously as the swordsman trailed off, his eyes trained on a particular spot on the ground wherein a decent number of lollipop sticks were laid to rest. Slowly the myrmidon's gaze traveled to the ginger's, and his nervous smile dissolved as the seconds ticked past with an eerie silence that seemed to weigh tons. He scratched the back of his gloved hand idly— something he did whenever he was guilty, his friend had earlier on noted.
Lon'qu's dark eyes bore into Gaius's with a quiet rage, mentally tearing him apart although his stoic demeanour stayed in front of his son. “… and who might have eaten all those lollipops strewn on the ground?” There must've been around twenty. It was a miracle the thief even still had teeth.
Morgan squirmed in his arms, rubbing the calluses on his father's hands, the shame in his emerald eyes evident as he knew he had done something wrong. Natalie and he were always quick to correct the boy's behaviour, and this time would be no different— although it was not exactly his fault entirely. Gaius kept quiet, looking around as if enjoying the scenery. If Lon'qu didn't know the man as well as he did, he wouldn't suspect that he was looking for something to distract him with. Unfortunately, he did, so instead he switched his attention to his son, raising his brow.
“I ate those, Papa.” He confessed, his tiny fingers tightening around Lon'qu's. The swordsman's eyes widened in alarm as they darted back to the candy sticks and wrappers on the ground, counting exactly how many there were. One, two, three… “How many did you eat, Morgan?”
His son raised both his small, unblemished hands, staring at his fingers in concentration and raising them one by one in silent counting. Lon'qu grasped one of them, rubbing his thumb on his soft palm, admiring the smooth skin he never had. Since he was but a small child his hands had been accustomed to fighting tooth and nail to live, clinging on to swords and pain to survive. Until now, his hands were rough and scarred, his body refusing to forget the memories of his previous life. He would continue to fight tooth and nail to protect his son's hands from ever getting tainted. His child finished counting with a single hand and looked up at him proudly, two of his fingers raised. “Seventeen, Papa!”
Lon'qu nearly swallowed his own tongue as his distressed gaze returned to the pile of candy sticks, counting it all over again to reaffirm their earlier confirmed number. One, two, three… fifteen, sixteen… seventeen. “You… you ate all of those?” The child averted his eyes suddenly, looking guilty all over again. “Is that… is that bad, Papa?”
He ignored the question and turned his glare to the thief standing in front of them— or did it seem like he had stepped a small ways away from them?— and the ginger avoided his eyes, studying a leaf on the ground as if it held all the world's secrets. “Did you let him eat all that, Gaius?” The swordsman asked, his voice turning dangerously quiet. The thief continued to ignore him, and he took a threatening step forward, fixing his former comrade with a stare that had before sent Risen crying back home. The thief continued scratching his hand in a fake calm, but already Lon'qu could see that he was trying really hard not to run away screaming and hands flailing.
His son's tiny hand tugging on his collar brought his attention back to him, and he took a second to let his deathly glare subside before looking his son in the eye. “Please don't be mad, Papa.” He asked, pink, baby lips curling into a sullen, downcast frown, faintly reminding Lon'qu of the way his own wife would put on a ridiculously miserable pout to persuade him to do something for her. It had, embarrassingly, worked quite well quite often. Really, of all the peculiarities their son could inherit from her…
Again, it had worked. “I'm not mad, child.” The champion of Regna Ferox and swordmaster of the Ylissean army, made to bow by a woman who used her wiles too well too often, and by a three year old child who had no idea how his absurdly adorable face lifted all the weight from his father's shoulders. He let out a defeated breath. Ah, back then he could make grown men whimper with a flick of his sword. His child's face brightened considerably, his emerald eyes that were an exact copy of his mother's shining with relief and jubilance. “Really, Papa?” Lon'qu bent his head only slightly and kissed Morgan on the tall bridge of his nose that Natalie had pointed out perfectly resembled his. “… yes, child.” Yes, in his previous years he used to send beasts of the wildest forms running back to their nests to lick their wounds. His son giggled in giddiness and grasped both his soft hands on either side of his father's cheeks. Lon'qu scrunched up his nose in reply. He wouldn't have it any other way.
“Uhm—” a nervous clearing of the throat from the ginger snapped him out of his own little moment of paradise, and he had to physically restrain himself from snapping at the man, “that's cute, and all, but uh, that means I can leave now, right? No hard feelings?”
Lon'qu opened his mouth to begin to chew the thief out, but quickly shoved the words back down his throat when he noticed his son looking at him, remembering that he had told the child that he was not mad. He took a long breath, an idea popping into his mind. He schooled the excited upturning of his lips back into his usual stoic expression. “Yes. No hard feelings.”
The relief on his thieving friend's face quickly dissipated when the swordsman slowly pulled the now-forgotten lollipop out of his pocket. The dark-haired man watched in quiet triumph as a bead of sweat travelled slowly down the side of Gaius's face, his juniper eyes fixed solely on the candy in his hands. The horror on his face was as if he had been faced by the largest beast in the wild. Excrutiatingly sluggishly, he unwrapped the sweet in front of the ginger, eyebrows slowly raising in amusement as he stuffed the wrapper back in his pocket. Gaius's pupils were blown wide in alarm, his breathing quick and hitched. Sweat began to form on his brows.
Keeping perfect eye contact with the distressed thief, Lon'qu plopped the lollipop into his son's mouth.
“Papa, why is uncle Gaius screaming?” Morgan asked in his arms innocently, looking over his father's shoulder out the garden.
“Why,” Lon'qu replied blankly as he carried his child up the stairs, “I haven't faintest idea.”
“Mind telling me why there is a crying Gaius in our garden?” His wife asked, standing in front of their bedroom window, her hands on her hips as her lips and brows turned up at the corners curiously. Unable to stop himself, Lon'qu put his hands over hers on her hips and pulled her close to him, ignoring his son's quizzical look from the edge of their bed. He rested his forehead on hers as she laughed lightheartedly, those emerald eyes gazing into his. “Morgan and I might just have taken candy from that baby.” He whispered in reply, his eyes flicking over to the window, where they had a clear view of the grown man in their garden throwing a tantrum worthy of ten three year olds. It was… quite a sight.
“Oh?” She detached herself from him completely, and he tried desperately to ignore the warmth settling in his stomach and the way his fingers seemed to sizzle as if tingling with magic. She turned to their child who sat at the edge of their bed with the lollipop still in his mouth, and knelt in front of him, stroking his wild hair the way she did with Lon'qu's. The myrmidon smiled to himself faintly, the joviality of his son's giggles reflecting the calm in his chest. The champion of Regna Ferox and swordmaster of the Ylissean army, turned breathless around a woman who he just couldn't keep his hands off of and turned lightheaded by a three year old child whose laughter made his heart warm.
“And just how many candies was that, Morgan?” She asked lovingly, her hand on their toddler's cheek, wiping away the stickiness with her handkerchief. She glanced at Lon'qu for a second, her eyes soft in contentment. He returned her gaze, a smile forcing its way to his lips, surprising both him and his wife. He wouldn't have it any other way.
“Seventeen lollipops, Mama!”
His heart stopped, the calm immediately fleeing his lungs as her emerald eyes were suddenly turned toward him, wide in outrage. He bristled, posture stiff as those emerald eyes glared at him as though she were staring down at their enemies on the battlefield, and he managed not to flee that moment and suppressed his urge to draw a sword in defence.
“Seventeen?!”