Chapter Text
CXVI.
Wolt grows quickly on milk and love and Artia sunshine. His first laughs come in the springtime of 985 while Rebecca bounces him on her knee in the porch swing, his tiny hands reaching for her as she holds him steady. As the days grow warmer so too does Wolt, all chubby red cheeks and bright blue eyes, so eager to soak in the wide world. He’s four months old when Eliwood writes that Ninian’s faring poorly after the birth of their son.
They wonder if the sea air will do her good. So when little Roy is old enough to travel, they pack a carriage full of a summer's worth of clothing, and settle in the family's summer villa. Eliwood spent time here as a child, Rebecca tells Nino. She can't even picture Eliwood as a child.
Ninian says she could be feeling worse. They settle her into the villa's master suite, the one with an oceanside balcony, and Roy in the exquisitely carved cradle. He's only a month old, still a sleepy little newborn with scrunched little features and a tuft of bright red hair, and tiny ears that come to little points.
They let Ninian and Roy rest, tended to by the villa staff, and host Eliwood for dinner. Rebecca and Nino make roast duck, which Eliwood picks at, a distracted look in his eyes.
"I heard about Hector's daughter," Nino tries. "Little Lilina. I think she's, what, three months old now?"
Eliwood hums. "She's beautiful," he says. "She looks just like him."
"Does Hector visit often?" Rebecca asks.
"Ostia keeps him busy," Eliwood says. "And Lyn is still dealing with matters in Caelin, which keeps her closer, but eventually she'll go back to the plains." He sighs. "I don't miss war. But I miss the army."
"Maybe I can write them," Nino suggests. "Get everyone together for Hearthkeep later this year."
"That would be nice," Eliwood says hollowly.
Rebecca and Nino glance at each other. Nino's nursing Wolt, his tiny hand fisted in her blouse. Hugh gets a second helping of duck and green beans. Wolt finishes his dinner and Rebecca takes him, laying him on her shoulder and patting his back. Nino fixes her blouse. Eliwood doesn't seem to care.
CXVII.
Ninian rests on the villa's covered patio, a summer coverlet over her lap and baby Roy on his back on a pillow. He watches the summer sky with big blue eyes, still unfocused and immature, his little limbs jerking without coordination. Nino keeps her company, watching baby Wolt sit up on the blanket beside Roy. Wolt must be twice his size, able to babble and sit up and smile and reach. He stares at Roy, fascinated by this little creature in front of him, unable to understand yet that this is another human, just like him.
"Perhaps they'll become friends," Ninian says. "Roy needs it, being an only child."
"You've decided already not to have more?" Nino asks, despite knowing what she means.
Ninian chuckles sadly. "I'm dying, Nino."
Nino sits with that. Wolt chews a teething ring, drool dripping from his chin. Roy's hand finds his mouth, and he begins to gum his fist with gusto. She sees Ninian in his features, but he has Eliwood's eyes.
"They don't know how long I have left," Ninian says. "It's not as if my case has ever happened before." Her ears are drooping even as her face is calm.
"I'll miss you," Nino says.
She smiles. "I'll miss you, too. All of you. Nino, will you promise me something?"
Nino leans in. "Of course."
"Take care of Roy and Eliwood," Ninian says. "They'll need the support of a family like yours once I'm gone."
Nino swallows, hard. "I promise."
CXVIII.
Eliwood and Ninian leave again after Nino's twentieth birthday. She waves them goodbye with Wolt on her hip, with Wolt flapping his hand in an imitation of her gesture. Rebecca puts her arm around Nino, rests her head on hers.
Hugh's seven and a half. His childhood is chalkboard letters and playing in the creek, running in the fields chasing balls and hoops. He's getting tall, up to Nino's chest. They mark his height on a door frame and see how much he's grown since he and Nino came to Artia. Nino thinks about three years ago when they first arrived. How unsure they were, how tired of traveling. And now they have a home.
Wolt loves Hugh more than anything, and Hugh is old enough to be patient with him, to let Wolt knock over the stacks of blocks Hugh sets up. Nino thinks about Lloyd and Linus.
CXIX.
The fall passes, unhurried, unrushed. Leaves turn colors on the trees and a cool wind starts to blow from the ocean. Wheat fields glow golden as reaping approaches. Dart and Farina blow in from the sea like a hurricane, bringing gifts and stories and you don't mind if we stay here for shore leave, do you, that's great. They coo over baby Wolt, who doesn't know what to make of either of them, and shower them in presents.
Dart becomes Hugh's favorite very quickly. He's captivated by stories of pirates and treasure, and fishing conquests. Dart teaches Hugh to fish, and to sing sea shanties at the top of his lungs. When Hugh mentions liking music, he notes it, and the next day brings ashore a beautiful lute with vines and birds woodburned into the face. When Rebecca and Nino protest that it's too much, Dart laughs it off, and says every lad should know how to play something.
And play Hugh does. He practices for hours every day, until his fingers are blistered. There's a lutist in the village who shows him how to tune it and where to place his fingers to produce different notes. Soon plunked notes turn into simple songs.
Wolt is Hugh's biggest fan. He fusses until Nino lets him crawl over to Hugh, sitting beside him and just listening. Hugh learns to play the old favorites— nursery rhymes, folk songs— and Wolt claps his tiny hands along, not old enough to understand a beat but old enough to imitate Nino and Rebecca.
Wolt cuts his teeth on wooden rings, hard toys, and just about anything else he can get his hands on. Nino starts weaning him onto mashed foods once he's old enough for his little teeth to bite. As winter comes closer they get an invitation from Pent and Louise— they're volunteering to host everyone for Hearthkeep. Etruria's a ways to travel, but it'd be so nice to see everyone again.
So they pack up several trunks and arrange transport, and bundle up the boys in layers of coats and scarves, and set out.
It's five days by caravan, snow piling up higher and higher as they travel inland, coating the landscape in white. Wil joins them on horseback, and from Pherae, they meet up with Eliwood and Ninian and Roy, and their small force of physicians and nurses. From Ostia comes Hector and his daughter Lilina, just a month older than Roy. For a bit it's like it's five years ago, like Nino is fourteen again and just learning it's okay to want, and everyone is smiling and welcoming her in. And Eliwood smiles and laughs, and Ninian sings in the evenings while Hugh plucks the strings on his lute.
CXX.
They reach Etruria safely, and it's resplendent, covered in frost and rime. Pent and Louise's manse on the outskirts has been decked out with lights made from motes of magic inside glass jars, holly and garland and pine. Hearths crackle with flame, and there's plenty of food and drink.
They'll stay two weeks. Not everyone could come— Lucius and Raven have an orphanage to tend, and Hawkeye has his obligations in Nabatea, and Mark couldn't be reached at all, but most of the legion sent a response and showed, one way or another.
The reunion is warm. People embrace and clasp hands and introduce their babies. People tell Hugh how much he looks like his father, and if they've seen him before, remark upon how much he's grown. People coo at Wolt, who smiles and laughs through it all from Nino's arms. Legault laments how old he must be now that his little Peapod has children of her own, and calls Wolt a little green pea. And there's mulled wine and cider, caramels and fruit chews, cured meats and cheeses and jams and pickles, and delicacies from all over Etruria and beyond.
After everyone's tired and tipsy and full of food and warmth, Rebecca collects Hugh from where he fell asleep in an armchair with a plate of half-eaten snacks, and carries him, even though he's a little big for it, upstairs. Wolt sleeps in the cradle they brought along, his little eyelids fluttering. Nino wonders what babies dream about.
They tuck Hugh into the trundle bed and then get ready for bed themselves. They linger in the winter moonlight streaming in from between the heavy curtains, embrace, and sway for a moment, just enjoying the quiet and each other. Rebecca's fingers lace together over the small of Nino's back. She reaches up and tucks a flyaway strand of hair back into Rebecca's braid. The moonlight traces her in silver.
Eventually the moment ends, and they wash up for bed and climb in, kiss goodnight, and wrap up in each other, sheltered from the cold winter night.