Chapter Text
Something roused Ningguang from her sleep.
She peeked one eye open and found herself greeted by bleary surroundings, a blur of dark blues and whites and blacks and anything in between. She had always been quite a light sleeper, convenient for a busy person as herself with so much to do in every second of the day, though also quite an annoyance when she needed that very little rest she’s getting.
Was it the rustle of the leaves right outside their window that had woken her? Some stray animal gallivanting about their yard and knocking their trash over? Or was Kazuha in need of a change or a bottle again?
Or perhaps, Ningguang’s arm felt over smooth sheets; it wasn’t the presence of something that had woken her, rather it was the absence of it.
The absence of soft snores that she had grown fond of over the years, the absence of warmth that had given her comfort through cold or stormy nights, the absence of strong arms wrapped around her that she had always complained were too heavy, though also wouldn’t have it any other way.
Beidou.
Ningguang urged herself to sit up, failing to stifle a yawn as she rubbed her eyes. She looked at the empty space beside her, of the ruffled blankets sheets, and the slight indent in the mattress telling her the occupant left not too long ago. She scanned the room; their bathroom light wasn’t on, so that checks it off the list of her partner’s whereabouts. The woman turned to the door, noticing it slightly ajar, the usually dark hallways dimly lit by one lone ceiling light.
Hm. Beidou probably went to check on Kazuha.
A sigh escaped her lips as she felt the coldness of the floor underneath her feet. Her mind slowly clearing of drowsiness, she did recall their son—a usually quiet boy of 18 months, though he’s been rather clingy as of late. Hopefully just a phase— fussing from the baby monitor, and Beidou, out of consideration for her wife’s needed rest, immediately leapt out of bed to tend to the child, assuring a half-asleep and out-of-it Ningguang that she could handle it with a quick kiss on the temple before leaving.
But that had been a while ago, was it?
Or it seemed so for Ningguang.
It wouldn’t hurt to check up on them, she supposed. She stood, put on a robe, and made her way outside their bedroom and to the nursery. Her eyes squinted at the offending lone light that lit the hallways as she walked through the halls, the walls adorned with photos and trinkets that Beidou had either acquired from her line of work, or gifted to Ningguang from colleagues or dear friends. A jewelry box from Aether and Paimon where they had put a rather...questionable snack they had made, a souvenir from Jean during their... Ningguang shook her head a bit. It isn’t the time to be distracted, she needed to go back to sleep, as soon as possible...after checking up on her wife and son, of course.
Even before she had walked in the nursery; she had found something odd. On the crib’s silhouette, from outside the door, it seemed there was something sticking out of it in a way her sleepy mind couldn’t quite decipher. Her brows furrowed, confused as she gently pushed the door open, as quietly as possible, as to not wake their sleeping child.
As she went in, the scene became clearer to Ningguang; what stuck out of the crib...were legs. Long and muscular legs stuck up the crib uncomfortably, hanging off the edge and swinging to the tune of a sea shanty the owner had been humming quietly and soothingly.
Ningguang blinked, once, then twice, before she quietly made her way to the crib, to not disturb its...occupants, it seemed. It was either Kazuha had grown into a full sized and buff adult seemingly overnight, or…
“Beidou.”
The other woman could only grin sheepishly as her wife came into view. Ningguang shot her a look, confusion and several questions evident from her expression. Laying on the crib, her legs uncomfortably held up hanging by the railings, and her son splayed across her stomach, holding onto her shirt tightly and protectively with one hand, and sucking his thumb with the other, well, it’s safe to say her movement’s incredibly limited, and all she could really do was wave and gesture at the sleeping toddler as if that fully explained everything.
“Good...” Beidou paused, glancing at a nearby table clock—cutely modeled after a red panda whom one of their friends had fondly named Guoba—that flashed 3:39 AM. “—morning, babe?”
“Good morning to you too, I suppose,” Ningguang couldn’t suppress another yawn as she blinked down at the sight. “I wasn’t aware the crib was comfortable enough that you opted for it instead of our bed.”
“Not actually comfortable in the slightest, I’m tellin’ ya,'' Beidou huffed. With how her back was twisted up, she didn’t need to say so. “I swear, it’s killin’ my back. Who makes this kinda crap?”
“It’s a crib , baobei,’ Ningguang found the edge of her lips quirking, just a bit, failing to hide her amusement. If she had her phone right now… “I doubt the manufacturers considered the comfort of six-foot tall grown women made of purely muscle when making a crib for toddlers .”
“Well, they should,” Beidou pouted, yet still chuckled nonetheless. “The next time we have a kid, you better commission a bigger crib, baobei.”
“So there’s a next time now?”
“...I mean, if you want.”
“I- don’t think this is an appropriate time to discuss this,” Ningguang gestured towards Beidou’s predicament, and the other woman blinked, before ultimately nodding in understanding. “So, may...I now ask why you’re in the crib?”
Before Beidou could answer, Kazuha stirred, and the woman froze as she told Ningguang, with love, to shut the hell up for a moment, with her panicked eyes. When the toddler simply snuggled closer to her, Beidou heaved a quiet and relieved sigh.
“Look, I tried, okay? Kid fussed, so I got up and did everything he could possibly need to go back to bed. Fed him, changed him, sang shanties. Wouldn’t budge. He fussed every time I left. So maybe…”
“You got in his crib to appease him.”
“Pretty much,” her sheepish expression never left, “and I can’t get out without breaking this damn thing into pieces even if I wanted to so I’m stuck either way.”
Ningguang found herself sighing. “Beidou.”
“I know...gotta make him get used to sleeping on his own,” she muttered, “but if he kept fussing, well, then none of us would have gotten any sleep tonight.”
“So you resorted to twisting up your back. How noble of you.”
“Shuddap,” Beidou rolled her eye, “shouldn’t you go back to bed? You said you had a meeting at 8 with your fellow Qixing higher ups.”
“Perhaps,” Ningguang yawned, for the umpteenth time. Beidou had thought it was her wife’s cue to leave and get the shut-eye the poor woman had needed, but instead, Ningguang surveyed the room, spotted the rocking chair by the corner—a beautiful piece made of iron wood and engraved with the leaves of autumn—and walked over to it. Beidou’s eye followed Ningguang even from the crib as she began to move the chair closer to the crib, all the while trying not to make even the slightest of noises.
“Aw, turns out another baby couldn’t sleep without me, huh?”
Ningguang hummed as she got comfortable in the chair—well, as comfortable as one could get, anyway—knees against her chest, on her side, with the small pillow attached to the chair barely alleviating her discomfort, but she slept on worse furniture if there was even any at all, especially in the darker, mora-less times of her early years, so this was barely anything to complain about. “Shut up.”
With one hand soothingly rubbing Kazuha’s back, Beidou’s other hand snaked its way up the crib railings. Ningguang sighed fondly and reached out for her partner’s hand, her lips curling as she felt Beidou squeeze her hand reassuringly, lovingly.
“Good night?”
“Good night.”