Work Text:
“Nighty, do you like Daddy?”
Purple mittens, thoroughly dusted in white snow, pause over the face of a snow skeleton. For an eye, there is a bright blue flower sticking out. The other half of its face is lumpy.
“Yeah. Why?” They continue to pack the snow onto their sculpture, trying their utmost best to develop several tentacles in the back. It looks more like a large cape if anything. On his tippy toes, Dream adjusts the hat on the snowman’s head.
“I was wondering, cuz he was just here one day, and you weren’t, then you were. Sometimes Daddy gets sad or weird when he’s alone, and you look sad. So I wonder if you like him.”
Dream receives a side eye from his twin. Nighty kneels to go through their pile of sticks, helpfully donated by their Mother. “Well… duh, brother. He’s our Daddy now, and he’s the best Daddy ever. He’s like if everything good ever was a wizard and a prince and a lord. And your dad.”
Wisely, the two of them nod. "And he can make cookies. And knit, and sew, and he can turn into a doggy." Dream adds.
Nighty sticks his tongue out, holding up two sticks like an artist. He eyes the sculpture, and the twigs, then back again. Dream takes one of them and sticks it into the snow without much regard, earning a squint. "That one is too long."
"Nuh uh. Daddy's got long arms."
"... Yeah, he does." Night sticks the other one in.
They admire their hard work, which towers over them much the same way their actual guardian does. The latter is currently down in the village, visiting for some reason or other about adult matters that don't really matter to either of them. Dream's pretty sure it's cuz he wants to buy them gifts for Gyftmas, but he's being picky, because he heard Daddy arguing with someone on the phone about a dolly.
“Do you like Daddy, Dream?” Nighty asks, taking his twin’s mitten in his own. Every time he looks down at his hands and sees them, there’s a small warm feeling in his chest, like he’s got a firefly in his rib cage floating around. The other boy looks at him with a smile, and he can’t help mirroring the expression.
Solemnly, Dream responds. “I really-really-really love Daddy. I would do anything for Daddy, even if it was something bad like wearing my muddy boots in bed.” He squeezes his brother’s small hand, and Nighty steps closer to his side. They stare at the tall snowdad, two very serious little boys bundled in warm, thick layers of soft coats and scarves and hats, all of it handmade and doused in generous amounts of loving, caring intent.
“He’s better than anyone else ever in the Village, and he never ever is mean or hurts us or unfair. Except for when it comes to desserts. And he never makes me work outside ever, and he says I can tell him if someone is mean to me, and he holds my hand when we go across a bridge. And he carries me to bed when I’m sleepy. I like when he carries me.”
Nighty hums quietly in acknowledgement, looking down at his boots in the snow.
“I love him too. He’s a good daddy. I was scared of him at first, because he was scary and tall and he looks evil.” The boy admits. Dream looks at him with a small frown.
“But he was so nice, even though I’m a crybaby ‘n don’t wanna talk, and he knew I didn’t like him a lot. He tucked me into bed, and he still gives me food even when I’m not supposed to. Daddy doesn’t even hit me because I misbehaved or did bad. He never ever gets mad at me, and I don’t get it.”
Dream’s hand squeezes his own, and Nighty rubs his eye to brush away a stray, hot tear. He sniffles, and his brother wraps his short arm around his shoulder. They lean into each other, like two puffy sparrows huddling for warmth. His breathing is a little uneven, and his voice is quieter, raspy, but he persists. “I dunno. He’s a good daddy, and I don’t want him to ever leave. I love him so much.” He blinks away his tears. His twin brother takes the end of his scarf and dabs it gently on his face, just like how their father does when they have a mess on their mouths while eating.
They are both silent again, a breeze gently gusting past and bringing the cold to their cheeks. The scarves protect them from the worst of it, and a wonderful idea occurs to the moon-loving twin when he sees a dove flying from a far away tree.
“We should marry him, that way he never goes away and stays forever.” He thinks of a story he read in a book, about a white bird that became a wife and then lived happily ever after. Daddy wasn’t a bird, but he could be a bird sometimes, and if he married his daddy, then he would live happily ever after with him.
“That’s a good idea!” Dream cheers, before his beam slowly dims. “But didn’t Manon’s mommy go away from her other mama even if they were married forever?”
“Well… that’s not gonna happen, though. Manon’s mommy stopped being in love. But we’re different, and Daddy isn’t Manon’s mommy. He’s our daddy. Which means he’s gonna be here forever. Cuz he’ll marry us.”
Wisely, they nod again, this time convinced of their plan. Then, comes the trouble.
Nighty frowns, looking down at his feet again. “But… what if he doesn’t wanna get married?”
“What?” Dream exclaims. “Of course he’s gonna marry us! Daddy loves us, everyone who gets married is in love!”
“Not unless you’re a princess, sometimes then you have to marry cuz you do politics.” Nightmare informs him. “And daddy’s a lord. He’s almost a princess.”
“But we’re not doing politics.” His brother says, his tone wobbly with confusion. “We can marry him, right?”
“Yeah, but he might have to marry someone else in the future cuz of politics. That’s what all the lords and princes and princesses do in my books, they get married and they’re so sad. Until they meet someone who is super cool and handsome and saves them.”
“Oh, just like how Daddy saved us?”
“Yeah!”
By that logic, Dream squints. “So are we princesses??”
“Um… no.” They both look up at their circlets, before at each other with a visible question in their eyes. “But we can play pretend.”
“Do princesses ask to get married?” Dream fiddles with the edge of his winter cloak, swinging it around. Nightmare watches him, folding his arms over his chest. His hand feels kind of cold without Dream’s own holding it.
“I’ve never read about a princess asking someone to get married, but we can be the first princesses ever. But we should save Daddy from something, so that then he’ll wanna marry us for sure, and he’ll also have to do it because we saved him. That’s how it always happens in the stories. They got married because they were rescued from something.”
“But what can we rescue Daddy from? He already rescued us… ” Dream trails off, pouting. He wanders off to a nearby flower patch, planted by the three last season and now just beginning to bud. He pokes at their sprouts.
“Maybe he’s afraid of something, that way we can protect him, and then he’ll wanna get married.” Nighty suggests, thinking of when he almost fell into the river. He’s still scared of going near water on his own. “But that seems kinda impossible, cuz Daddy is never afraid of anything ever.”
They both sigh dejectedly. The two boys toddle through the snow and sit down on the porch steps.
“What do we do? He’ll never wanna get married at this rate.” Nighty sulks.
“Maybe we can just ask him.” Dream suggests.
“What? No way, he’s gonna say no and then we’ll never ever be married.”
“Nuh uh. Daddy loves us.”
His mouth wobbles. Purple eyes glance downward at short fingers twiddling with fabric. “But… he needs to stay forever and ever. We have to make sure, Dream.”
“Daddy promised he won’t ever go away.” Dream says with utter conviction. “Daddy would never go away ever. I know it for sure, because he pinky promised me, and one day I thought he’d go away, but then he came back. Even if I made big trouble for him, and he was really upset.”
They’re quiet, staring out at the field anxiously awaiting their guardian to return. After a few seconds, Dream stands up. The porch creaks under his yellow boots.
“If you don’t ask Daddy to marry us, I’m gonna do it.“ He says, full determination on his face. His fists clench at his sides. “I wanna marry Daddy.”
“What? I do too!” Nightmare protests, wobbling to his feet. He clutches the banister for support, turning fully to his brother. “I didn’t- I didn’t say I don’t wanna marry Daddy, you can’t just say that you’re gonna tell him without-”
“Only if you don’t do it, Nighty, cuz you’re sounding like you don’t wanna ask him, and I wanna marry Daddy-” They start to talk over one another, babbling before the normally soft-spoken child suddenly yells out.
“I’ll do it!” He hotly exclaims, his face flushed lavender. He takes a deep breath, exhaling a little cloud of steam, before continuing. “I can ask! I don’t need you to ask for me, I c-can ask him!”
Triumphant, his twin brother beams at him. “Okay! You can do it, Nighty! Let’s go get flowers and make a flower crown and a ring!”
Later, clutching a bouquet of wildflowers interspersed with flowers from their garden, Nightmare wonders if his brother meant for this to happen all along. He fiddles with the leaves and fusses at his nicest, cleanest tunic, looking nervously at his brother for support. He even washed his hands with the flower soap and Dream helped him take a bath.
“What do I say again?” He squeaks out.
Dream looks down at his storybook, putting a finger on the words. He has a hopeless look of confusion, glancing over at the picture briefly before looking back at his twin. “Um,” he starts. “Tell him he’s so pretty and that you love him lots. And then ask if he wanna be forever together, like forever forever.”
“I’m gonna sound stupid.” Nightmare whimpers. “You have to do it, I don’t think I can do it.”
“Nuh uh, you said you can ask him.” Dream firmly denies, pointing. He continues to peer over the back of the sofa, resting the book on the top of the cushions. “Don’t be a chicken.”
“I’m not a chicken…” he mutters. “Getting married is really scary.”
They both sit up straight as they sense their guardian making his way up the hill, looking at one another with wide eyes.
“You can do this!” Dream whisper-yells. He ducks down behind the couch “Remember, you have to do it on your knee! Get in position, get in position!”
Nighty yelps as he hits the ground a little too hard, hastily getting on one knee with his flowers. Pain sparks through his leg.
He jolts in surprise as the door suddenly swings open, their guardian wide-eyed. Something drops onto the floor, rustling. From this perspective, their father is incredibly tall and intimidating, but he’s already saying the words without thinking of why Daddy is so worried.
“Um, uh, you’re so pretty and I love you lots, do you wanna- can you- please marry me?” Nighty squeaks out, thrusting his flowers at him. His palms are already super sweaty and he accidentally broke one of the stems while fiddling with them, but he covered it up with one of the lace doilies from the dinner table. Still, the bouquet seems rather unimpressive as it flops over, most of the blooms slightly wilted. His face is hot with anticipation and embarrassment, though he has the wildest, sparkliest hope in his heart that Daddy may accept.
“What?”
He doesn’t wanna get married! He’s gonna leave us and never come back and he secretly hates us!
“I-I’m sorry,” the boy sputters out, already internally dying and withering away. This is the worst moment of his life. Daddy’s eye widens and he puts his hands up as Nighty begins to tear up from how humiliated he feels, but then he hears it-
“Yes, yes, of course, what are you doing on the floor, moonbeam?” Then, he’s being swept up into his father’s arms. The comfort that crashes into him is so heavy that he sags, flopping against a broad chest with a sigh of relief. He sniffles, rubbing his face in his shirt, taking in the comforting smell and textures, wrapping his arms around his shoulders.
“You’re supposed to do it and the…” Nighty babbles, having already dropped his bouquet and grabbing his father’s shirt in his fists. His mouth wobbles. “Did I do it right?” He whimpers.
“Yes, you did, you did so well.” A kiss is planted on his circlet, and he sheds a few tears of joy. Nighty makes an ugly keening noise, prompting coos and gentle bouncing. Daddy really does love them, he can feel it, and he said yes because he wants to be together forever and they’re gonna get married! He calms down quickly enough, taking deep breaths like he was told to and resting his heavy head on his guardian’s shoulder.
Dream guiltily peers up at him from where he’s looking over their father’s shoulder. Nighty gives him a weak squint. “Are you okay, Nighty?” His twin meekly asks.
He nods wordlessly, snuggling into a wooly scarf. Dream worries and holds onto the hem of their guardian’s dark coat, tugging it. With an indulgent sigh, he’s lifted onto the other arm so he can hug his brother.
“I love you.” Dream peeps out.
Nighty mumbles a response. “I love you too.” His eyelids are falling shut. Their daddy did come back rather late.
“What in the world were you two doing? You should both be waiting in bed by now.” His words rumble through his chest, tickling the boy’s cheek. He shuts his eyes, swaying with each step towards the bedroom, sniffling quietly. Dream’s guilt wafts off of him.
“We were gonna marry you.”
“... Is that what he said?” It was all so quickly blurted out that he hardly understood it.
“You didn’t hear him?”
Nighty is fighting not to fall asleep before his brother, blearily opening his eyes. “He said yes…”
Dream glances between him and up at their daddy for confirmation.
There’s a funny sound to his voice. “... Yes, I did hear him. Let’s get you both to sleep and we can talk about getting married over breakfast, okay?”
“‘Kay.” Dream rests his cheek on the other unoccupied shoulder, watching as Night is gently laid upon their quilt. He helps out and clambers down onto the mattress, crawling to the edge and helping their daddy take off Nighty’s boots. Soon enough both of them are ready for bed, completely forgetting about what had just occurred and sleepily blinking up at their guardian. Slowly, Nighty’s blinks come to his eyes shutting entirely. Soft and even puffs of air escape him.
“Are you really sure you wanna get married? Forever? ” Dream raspily whispers, when he’s sure his brother is asleep. As usual, their daddy is posted in the chair by their side, a book open on his lap and the lantern by his side.
He hears a sigh, and senses love, as usual. He can’t see his daddy too well, but he hears the smile in his voice. “I’m sure, sunbeam. Now go to bed, you had an exciting day today.”
“Okay. Goodnight daddy, I love you.”
“I love you too, dear. Goodnight.”
He waits for them both to fall soundly asleep before he shuts his book with a snap. It is centuries of practice that lets him keep his stoic expression on his face, and it takes two little boys to ruin it all. He barely restrains a sound as he covers his mouth daintily, pressing it into a wobbly line as his face warms. It would be horrible to wake them up after all the excitement they had today. What silly, silly children, asking to marry their guardian. He couldn’t fathom the reasoning behind it all.
Gently, the guardian tucks the quilt more securely about their shoulders. He rises from his post to retrieve the fallen packages from the doorway, secreting them away to the top shelf of the closet for Gyftmas.
He’s quiet as he lifts the bouquet from its abandoned place on the floor, gently unwrapping the doily and placing it all on the table.
Love, hope, forgiveness, eternal devotion. These flowers he planted in the garden still make his soul feel strangely. A dark finger brushes over the velveteen petals, some yet to bloom. He places them in a glass of water on the windowsill, slipping away to return to his midnight post. When the day comes, the blossoms will unfurl, and the beauty will provide a smile for his children.