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“Once upon a time…”
“Wait, Mama!” The little girl snuggled into Evie’s side popped up, eyes wide and frantic. “I don’t have my dragon from Uncle Blade! He wants to hear the story too.” She scrambled out from under her covers and ran across her room to the small plush dragon sitting on the dresser.
Evie bit her lip to contain her smile. “Oh, of course, hasibsi. I would never want him to feel left out.”
The toy was a consolation prize from Blade, after Trystan had made it clear in no uncertain terms that his daughter was not going anywhere near Fluffy until he could find some way to…make her child-sized fire-proof armor? Evie wasn’t sure. But their daughter had been devastated that she couldn’t go ride Fluffy after spying him out the window one day. Hence…
“Fluffy the Second!” her daughter proclaimed proudly as she crawled back under her blankets and tucked herself in tight next to her mother. “He says thank you for telling him the story too, Mama.”
“Well, you’re very welcome, Fluffy the Second.” Evie gave the plush a good-natured pat and wrapped her arm around the squirming girl next to her. Never able to sit still. So much like herself. If the near-constant kicks coming from her belly were any indication, the next one would be no different. “Where were we now? Oh, I can’t remember…”
“Once upon a time, Mama!”
“Oh, you’re so right, darling. Thank you.” Evie gave her forehead a little slap and giggled. “Once upon a time, there was a little pig who lived with his brothers in a house made of—“
“Mama?” Round, dark eyes peered up at her. “Can I actually pick a different story?”
“Of course! What would you like?” Evie quickly ran through the ever-growing list in her head. “The princess with the long hair? The boy with the magic beans? Ooh, what about the one with the prince who turned into a frog?”
The little girl scrunched up her nose. “That one doesn’t make any sense. How could a prince turn into a frog?”
Evie opened her mouth to protest but thought better of it.
“Could you tell me the one about The Villain and his assistant? Pretty please?”
Evie smoothed down her daughter’s dark curls and smiled warmly. “You know, that’s actually my favorite story. I’ll never pass up a chance to tell that one.”
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Trystan finished washing and drying the last of the dishes in the kitchen before heading down the hallway toward his daughter’s room. He hoped he wasn’t too late for the end of the bedtime story. He and Evie normally did the dishes together, but she was having a harder and harder time staying on her feet for long periods of time; he had offered to do the dishes by himself so she could get started on bedtime.
“…and of course, the assistant tripped again. She did that a lot. But The Villain never got tired of picking her back up.” Evie’s voice drifted out to him from the slightly ajar door at the end of the hall, and his heart felt as if it might burst. She was telling their story again. His favorite.
Trystan gently pushed the door open the rest of the way and leaned against the jamb. Gods, he was so lucky. He didn’t deserve this, any of this. His perfect wife. Their perfect daughter, the best parts of them both. And their beautiful little life they’d built together. No, he didn’t deserve it. But he was going to keep it anyway.
“They raced towards the edge of the cliff,” Evie continued, even as their daughter’s eyes were slowly drifting shut. “And the Villain said, ‘Are we going over, then?’” Evie deepened her voice in a poor imitation of his own.
Trystan brought a hand to his mouth to stifle his chuckle, but Evie still heard it and lifted those beautiful blue eyes to his. “And it was then that the assistant realized that The Villain would do anything, go anywhere for her. That he trusted her completely.” Her voice softened. “And that’s when she knew that she loved him.”
‘I love you too,’ he mouthed back. His wife winked at him and blew him a kiss, and he just about melted into a puddle on the floor.
“Papa?” The little girl blearily rubbed her eyes and held her arms out for him. He could deny her nothing; he was at her side in an instant.
“You need to sleep, baby girl.”
“Not tired yet,” she insisted, blinking hard to keep her eyes open. “Mama needs to finish the story.”
“You know how it ends, hasibsi,” Evie murmured. “The Villain and his assistant…”
“Lived happily ever after,” the girl finished, a small snore escaping her lips a moment later as she finally nodded off.
Trystan and Evie shared a soft smile over her head. “Exactly,” Trystan whispered.
“It’s a good story,” Evie whispered back. “I never get tired of telling it.” She yawned, smothering the sound with her hand as best as she could.
“And I never get tired of hearing it.” Trystan reached to help his wife gently extricate herself from their daughter’s bed without waking her. “And now we all need some sleep.” He kissed Evie softly. “Little tornado.” He reached over and kissed his daughter’s forehead. “Littler tornado.” He finally bent to press his lips to the swell of Evie’s belly. “And littlest tornado.”
Happily ever after, indeed.