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The canvas on the tent had a stain.
That was the observation Ryoma made as he lay on his futon, Azura curled up in his arms. His wife was sleeping soundly- the soft touch of her breath as she kept her head on his chest was comforting as it was cute. For the most part, she was still, leaving Ryoma to his thoughts as he stared at the top of their tent.
And the canvas had a stain. It had an odd shape to it, something akin to the blood splatter one would see if a person were struck too close to a wall. Despite the morbidness of his opinion, the samurai gave the notion no such thought. With a man so weathered to war as he, such a thing was merely in passing at this point.
He knew it was quite a trivial thing to focus on- being the High Prince of Hoshido, many other issues had their right to be at the forefront of his mind instead. But the stain was something physical to tie him to, rather than the thought that had been circling his brain for the past week.
The mere suggestion of the idea caused his chest to involuntarily tighten, shifting Azura’s placement. The now awkward crevice between his clavicle and shoulder blade caused the songstress to try and reposition herself in her sleep. After squirming for a minute, her eyes opened- her pillow had not returned to where she wanted it.
Noticing her head lift from his chest, Ryoma pulled his gaze from the tent and over to his wife. Her golden irises caused her eyes to almost glow in the dark- Azura blinked owlishly at her husband.
“Did I wake you?” Ryoma asked, feeling almost guilty at the idea. She slept so poorly anyways, and to think he may have taken from her already little sleep tugged at him.
Wiping some of the crust from her eyes, Azura hummed. “My pillow moved on me. It was hard to get comfortable again.”
Ryoma exhaled, propping himself into a better position for Azura to lay her head. Obliging, the queen curled back up next to him, snuggling her face right over his heart.
“Forgive me then. I didn’t mean to take away from your rest.”
The comment seemed to pique something in Azura, the songstress angling her head to meet Ryoma’s eyes.
“It means little in the grand scheme of things. And besides, your heart beats heavily.” She gave a light tap to his skin, right over where one could feel the strength of his pulse. “I am not the only one having issues sleeping tonight.”
Ah, yes. For better or worse, Ryoma always had issues keeping his guard up around his wife. Even when they were children, he’d always found it difficult to try and smother his emotions around her.
“Hm, you’ve seen right through me.” Ryoma admitted, seeing no reason to try and deny it.
“So then, what is the matter?” She questioned.
Ryoma felt himself flush a little at the subject.
“It's nothing of great importance. Just silly, stray thoughts.”
Azura digested his words for a moment, making a short noise. “Silly and stray they may be, but obviously they are keeping you awake.” Ryoma could feel her lips press a smile to his skin. “And I will not tell a soul, as always.” He huffed. While he valued the image of strength and independence, Ryoma always hated how Azura sought the need to reassure him she would not let anyone else know of his faults. He deeply appreciated it, he had a standard to set, but the idea she had to voice that he didn’t trust her with his weaknesses bothered him. But that was another talk for another time.
After a beat, Ryoma gave a sharp exhale through his teeth.
“It’s just…” The samurai felt the tips of his ears burn. “It’s just I can’t stop thinking about Shiro and Shigure.” He felt Azura tighten, only to relax as a few chuckles escaped her. He laughed with her, knowing just how ridiculous of a notion he had just put forth was. They both knew what he was referring to- their sons’ girlfriends, and more specifically, their quirks.
To say the young women they had chosen were… interesting would be an understatement. Of course, Ryoma could see both girls were deserving of respect, and that his sons truly loved them as they should, but that didn’t stop the swordmaster from gawking a little at their tastes.
Shiro had ended up falling head over heels for a daughter of Nohrian retainers- Ophelia, if recalled correctly. Something Ryoma hated to admit was his issues remembering names. His son had walked up to his parents, hand in hand with the sorceress, a dumb, love-struck grin over his mouth. Ophelia was certainly talented- Ryoma had not seen such a penchant for magic as she before. She also had probably one of the largest vocabularies he’d ever witnessed- only rivaled by her father who had just a loud mouth. Ryoma distinctly remembered the eccentric mage sidling up to him and having the gall to ask if he may hold Raijinto. The king could only recall just how alarmed he’d become when Ophelia had started to spout off something about her blood of the abyss and eclipses or something, her voice shrieking. In another setting, one may have thought she was being murdered.
And Shigure… with his youngest’s mild mannered but sometimes flighty temper, the last thing Ryoma expected was a Wolfskin to make her way into his heart. Velouria was an enigma. While Ryoma was aware that Wolfskin tastes did not translate to human ones, he was still baffled by the amount of garbage she’d collect under the pretense of treasure. If anything, the king could respect her calmer demeanor, a nice change of pace from Ophelia’s hyper-energeticness. What he couldn’t was her gifts to him. After a few successful dates, Shigure had announced their courtship to his parents, and as ‘tribute’, Velouria had given Ryoma a half dead, rabid skunk. Even now, Ryoma was having to use extra soap on his armor to scrub out the scent, and go to Sakura regularly to make sure he didn’t contract anything. To his credit, Shigure had been rightfully alarmed, trying to tell his girlfriend such gifts were not suitable once he realized what she had brought.
Even still…both women were certainly something.
“They definitely have interesting taste.” Azura confirmed, a snort on her lips. It was obviously clear that Azura shared the same thoughts as her husband when it came to this topic- she had also been subjected to Ophelia’s excessively long speeches and Velouria’s odd gifts. Luckily Velouria had learned a little by this point- Ryoma didn’t have to worry about Azura receiving any diseased animals.
“But we’ve talked about this before- we approve of them, and our sons are treating them as they should. I have a feeling you're thinking of something else?”
Ryoma mumbled for a minute before bracing himself. Thinking it was one thing, but speaking it to the air was another.
“I just…this came to me the other day as I was watching Shiro and Ophelia together… she’s going to be queen one day…” Gods, the words were too much; Ryoma knew he was probably grimacing a little. He felt his wife still for a moment.
“I…did not give that much thought…” She admitted, processing the idea. Azura liked the girl, honest, and she knew Ryoma did too, but with her dramatic tendencies, it was clear Ophelia would have to do a little growing before being handed the reins.
“...But that won’t be for a while now, love.” Azura soothed, feeling how wildly his heart was beating. “She and Shiro have plenty of time to develop into the role.”
Ryoma felt an exhale leave his lips. As always, Azura was the calmer of the two of them, managing to bring Ryoma back when he got caught in his emotions. Such a thing was so far away, it was silly to be so concerned.
“Hm, of course, you’re right.” He pressed a kiss to her hair, smirking. “That’s why I have you, isn’t it?” She laughed again, the sound like a chime.
“If you’d like to think of it that way, yes.” She then went silent, a furious blush spreading across her features. Seeing her blushing mein, Ryoma couldn’t help but tease.
“Oh? Did my words flatter you that much?”
“In a sense…but that wasn’t what I was thinking.” Ryoma raised a brow.
“Mm? And just what is on your mind?” Azura buried her face into his skin, nervous laughter escaping her.
“W-Wolf babies.”
“Wolf babies…?” For a moment Ryoma was lost, until the swordmaster made the correlation. “O-O-hhhh….” He was pretty certain he was as red as his armor now.
She had a point. A much sooner, realer, point. With the Deeprealms, many of the families had to come to the same strange paradox- the children that were grown were already looking for companionship themselves, and with it, children of their own. Such as an example was their own nephew, Siegbert. The paladin prince had struck up a romance with the cavalier Sophie, and the two were already arranging their wedding. From there, they could fall to the same machinations as their parents, and end up with a baby themselves.
The principal could be very much applied to Ryoma’s sons. The thought made his head spin. Gods, if he had grandchildren already, the shock may surely kill him. The man had not even hit his thirtieth birthday- such a thing was due for much later down the road. His wife’s laughter brought him back.
“You find this so amusing…?” He asked, brow furrowed, but with good humor in his eyes. It was hard to stay worried when he heard her laugh.
“Mmm, yes.” Her eyes widened as she blushed deeper. “If I think about it any further, I may not recover.” Her words caused a small grin to crack onto Ryoma’s features.
“You have a point…ah, wolf babies…” He snickered. The idea was outlandish and the words silly enough that he couldn’t keep up a scowl. The image of a child with pointed, fluffy ears, trying to wield his Raijinto made him bark out a laugh.
“I know you’d get a kick out of their ears.” Ryoma observed. He knew just how much his wife loved soft things, and the thought of how enamored she’d be by both the baby and its little ears warmed his heart.
The comment made her give a soft noise of realization, a similar image coming into her mind. “And surely, they’d want to chew on their grandfather’s hair.” She teased back, watching as Ryoma rolled his eyes. “We also aren’t accounting for chosen ones too…” Her voice went up at the end, a quieter impression of Ophelia’s declarations. Ryoma let out a grunt.
“Chosen grandchildren… oh my.”
“Perhaps they will let their grandfather Odin wield their father’s holy blade.” Azura quipped, watching as Ryoma went pale. He gave a long groan tilting his head back at the thought. While she knew such a thing concerned him, Azura could read his reaction was more exaggerated for the moment.
“Ugh, must you remind me…” His words lamented, but the small smile on his face said otherwise. Ryoma moved his mouth to say more, but the hoot of an owl brought the couple back.
“Hm, we should probably sleep, shouldn’t we?” Azura reasoned. “We have a march to go on in a few days.”
“Yes…” Ryoma leaned forwards, sharing one last kiss with his wife. As she repositioned herself, Ryoma pulled the covers tighter. As he heard Azura’s breath deepen as she drifted off, the swordmaster could feel his own doing the same. In no time at all, the royal couple was fast asleep. It had probably been the first time in weeks that either of them had drifted off so quickly.
Images of chosen ones and wolfskin children sweetened their dreams. Whatever would come, it would all be okay.