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Moonflower could hear crying before she opened the door to her house in the Lavender Beds. She took a deep breath and pushed it open, calling out, “I’m home!”
Her husband appeared at the door to the nursery. “You’re here!” he cried in relief, a wailing Sunflower in his arms. “Both of them are upset, I can’t seem to settle them.”
“Oh, Raha, I’m so sorry.” She entered the nursery to pick up Daffodil, who was also crying. Daffodil squirmed and grabbed Moonflower’s hair in response. Moonflower pushed past the pain and instead focused on checking her daughter: her ears were clean, her diaper smelled fresh, there didn’t seem to be any rashes anywhere, and G’raha confirmed that they had both been fed. “I think they just need a good cry,” she said, and moved out to the garden so that the two could cry without bothering the other one.
Once she and Daffodil were outside and she stood under a tree she had brought back from Lakeland, Moonflower allowed herself to shed a few tears of her own. It had been a particularly onerous quest that she had just returned from, and she had been hoping for a different kind of welcome. She hummed and rocked her daughter, waiting for her to settle down. “It’s okay, Mommy isn’t going to go away again anytime soon,” she promised in a whisper.
Daffodil clung to her dress and eventually calmed to the point that she was gurgling instead of crying. Moonflower sighed and smiled at her daughter, stroking her hair and admiring her beautiful red eyes. Yes, she was lucky indeed to have two beautiful little girls. “Come on, let’s go see how Sunflower and Daddy are doing.”
Her linkpearl rang and she heard G’raha’s voice in her ear. “It’s safe to come back inside, if you are ready.”
“I’ll be back inside in a moment. Is there any tea in the house?”
“We have a variety in the cupboard, I just restocked yesterday.”
Moonflower opened the door and smiled at her husband, who was standing in the middle of the living room with a finger to his ear and Sunflower nestled in his elbow. “Then I will make us some,” she said, and the pair of them set their twins on their play blankets. The girls immediately became fascinated by the interactive blankets.
Three minutes later and the water was boiled and steeping in the pot that Moonflower placed on a tray with two cups and tea necessities. Once she set the tray down on the side table, G’raha reached across her to claim tarts for the two of them. “Tell me how your latest adventure went,” he requested, settling back so that she could stretch her legs over his lap.
She bit her lip. Her legs tensed, making G’raha frown, but he didn’t say anything. After a bite of her tart, she spoke. “It was fine. I missed you. I missed the Leveilleur twins.”
Their own twins giggled from their play on the floor, and instead of making their mother smile, she burst into tears. G’raha took the tart back and placed it on a plate so that he could pull Moonflower into his lap. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, Raha! I am so tired of adventuring!”
This wasn’t the first time she had said as much. She had mentioned several times that she liked traveling, but didn’t like the pressure and expectations people placed on her. It was rare for her to directly say she didn’t want to be an adventurer anymore, however. “What happened?” he pressed, briefly pressing his nose to her cheek.
“Where to start? So much happened! Zenos told his voidsent that I was his friend, which is disgusting —” she gagged, and G’raha tightened his embrace; they both knew why she hated that man, “—and then I had to wander around the Thirteenth in darkness for ages, feeling my skin crawl and wondering if I was going to be eaten every time I took a turn—” Moonflower’s tears fell harder and she buried her face in his shoulder. “And you weren’t there!” she whimpered. As much as she wanted to scream, she didn’t want to set their daughters off again.
“Princess,” he began, his voice gentle, “you have been on many adventures without me.”
She gasped and leaned back to look him in the eye. “Not that. Don’t say that.”
G’raha tilted his head in confusion. “But I’m the one who said it in the first place, and you know I’m here.”
“I don’t want to be reminded of that day that you sealed yourself away in the tower.”
He kissed her cheek. “I am not going to do that again, my love. You’re stuck with me.”
“Except when I’m not,” she countered, sniffling. “Just because I’ve had to go places without you doesn’t mean I like it. Especially when I don’t have Alphinaud or Alisaie with me.”
G’raha had known for quite some time that Moonflower didn’t like doing things without either one of the twins. It was starting to wear on her that she hadn’t spent much more than a few minutes at a time with them in months. Their home life was about the only thing that seemed to make her happy. Adventuring in the Thirteenth sounded like an immensely interesting opportunity to him, especially after how he had been fascinated by the gate in Radz-at-Han’s treasure vault. Unfortunately, he was busy with Omphalos and helping Krile, so he couldn’t go. He wondered if that had been a mistake, if it made his wife this upset. “I’m sorry, Moonflower. Perhaps next time will be a better opportunity.”
“I don’t want a next time. I’m so tired. I want to help Vrtra, I do, and I want to possibly find Doga and Unei, but this is too much. Y’shtola practically implied that we undo the damage done to the Thirteenth and make it whole again! I can’t! I can’t do that again, Raha, it was hard enough on the First!”
“Mommy?” Sunflower’s voice was enough to break Moonflower and G’raha out of their discussion and look down at their daughters. Sunflower had risen to her feet and toddled over to the couch where they sat, and Daffodil was staring at them from her spot on the ground.
Moonflower got out of G’raha’s lap so that she could pick up Sunflower. “Hello, baby.”
With his wife thus distracted, G’raha quickly poured out their tea, since it was well steeped by now, and made sure to make Moonflower’s the way she liked it. “I’m sure that Y’shtola didn’t mean anything like that,” he said quietly, watching Moonflower rock Sunflower in her arms. Daffodil was content to play with toys that were left by the blankets. “And if she wants that, perhaps you can suggest finding different Warriors of Light for it. You have every right to leave that life behind you. Or you can suggest that you focus on one task at a time. The point of going into the Thirteenth is to find Azdaja.”
“Well, I’m glad that someone remembers this,” she said sarcastically. “Of course, exploring new territory means that the objective is thrown into disarray. I’m… I’m not that mad at Y’shtola. I would like the Thirteenth to be restored too.”
It didn’t stop a fairly straightforward task from becoming onerous, he noticed, but he chose not to say it. Instead, he said, “Take a few days to relax at home, then. If anyone comes calling for an adventure, we’ll just have to say no. I think you are at a breaking point, Moonflower.”
“No break, Mommy,” said Daffodil from the floor, dropping her toy as if to make a point.
Moonflower met his eye. She looked tired and worn out, he thought, and it made him sad. Adventuring was supposed to be fun, or challenging. But even the greatest warrior needed rest. “Listen to your daughter,” he said, smiling.
“Well, I suppose we can’t ignore such a request. I missed them too.” She stroked Sunflower’s ear, which made the toddler purr and rest her head on Moonflower’s chest. “I think I can stop being an adventurer for a few days.”
“Shall I borrow you for research instead?” he teased, grinning when she nudged him with her foot. “I shall need inspiration for a song, soon, will you be my muse?”
This drew a laugh out of her, which was the intended effect.