#elda precure

   Numeri slithered into the room and put her hands on her hips. Elda stared her down and Numeri knew if it was going to be a battle of wills, Elda would win. She had more youth and energy, after all. She could throw a tantrum until the Fool’s Casket was full and never tire. Get hungry, perhaps, but not tired.

   “Elda, why don’t Chongire and I take you to your room. We’ll put you to bed with sea cow milk and seashell cookies. We can even tell you a bedtime story. That way, you can still stay up a little bit late but not too late like Butler feels.” Numeri negotiated in a pleasantly sweet and gentle voice.

   Elda paused to consider the offer. She hummed in thought and tapped her chin before shrugging. She set down her dolls and said, “Alright.”

   “That’s a good girl.” Numeri praised her.

   “You spoil her too much.” Chongire whispered to Numeri and she just giggled again.

   Butler shook his head but the bargain worked. Elda popped herself off the top of the table she was so comfortably lying on and swam over to Numeri and Chongire. Numeri gave Butler a wave good night as it was unlikely to see him afterwards as it was his usual bedtime, too but Chongire rolled his eyes. 

   Numeri and Elda began to shuffle off and Chongire gruffly piped up, “Good night, Butler.”

   “Good night Chongire, good night Numeri, and good night Elda. I will see you all in the morning, ready to report for breakfast.” Butler bade them and that was that.

   Chongire huffed and though he had been going one way - leaving the kitchen - it was time to go the other way - back to the kitchen. He was just as bas as spoiling Elda, quite clearly, otherwise he wouldn’t go through the effort of fetching the snacks that Numeri had suggested. One cold, frothy drink of sea cow milk and seashell cookies coming up. It wouldn’t take that long, thankfully.

   So, once Chongire had done that, he scuttled along to catch up to Numeri and Elda and it looked like he had made it back just in time. Elda was throwing a tantrum. She swam swiftly around her room, literally banging off the walls and following the ricochet and all whilst incessantly screaming for her snack. Poor Numeri, shuddering at the shrillness of Elda’s voice, in the middle of it.

   “Good grief…” Chongire muttered to himself and he lifted up his claws slightly, to show off the tray that he had brought out. “Here you go, little girl.”

   Elda stopped mid-paddled and was completely still, she beamed, “Well why didn’t ya say so sooner?” she asked as she very civilly swam over to Chongire, her little tail wagging and her antennae twitching excitedly. “You always make the best snacks, Chongire.”

   “Thanks, kid.” Chongire replied, half a smile on his hard face.

   Elda grinned greedily, reaching for the sea cow milk with one hand and with the other, she was snatching up the seashell cookies that Chongire had made. Elda was munching them down, getting crumbs everywhere but she did it with an earnest excitement that was endearing. Even Numeri slyly sneaked a biscuit or two. It made Chongire smile, even if it was a gruff and somewhat hidden smile. He put a lot of effort into this pain in the neck cooking thing, it was nice to see it appreciated for once. He wasn’t going to get such gusto from the Witch of Delays any time soon so he did savour Elda’s gluttony and even Numeri’s as well.

   “Ah,” Elda exclaimed, smacking her lips together, “that was the good stuff.”

   “Ready to brush your teeth and go to bed then, hm, Elda?” Numeri prompted her.

   “I suppose.” Elda breathily sighed. “I’ll be quick as.”

   “No, you won’t. Two minutes.” Numeri told her.

   “Fiiiine.” Elda sighed loudly again.

   Chongire smiled to himself. Perhaps Numeri could be strict with Elda once in a while.

   Elda swam off to her ensuite and kept the door open. From the doorframe, she showed off how she could brush her teeth like a big girl and to complete Numeri’s order of at least two minutes. It was horrible. It was such an inconvenience, but Elda did it and then returned once she had wiped her mouth.

   Her little, fat tail wagged as she dived on her bed. She had a nice cosy little nest of a four poster bed in the corner. She got under the covers, wriggling down, and yawned, a little bit fakely. She patted her mouth and beckoned her two carers closer.

   Numeri very happily slithered closer, putting an arm around Elda, half in her own bed whilst Chongire hovered, a little distant, a little awkward. He crossed his arms but he sat down. Numeri smiled softly and she played with Elda’s hair, undoing her pigtails and straightening them out.

   “Is that better? Easier to sleep on?” she asked.

   “A little… yeah…” Elda murmured as she settled and then took a big breath. “But I want a bedtime story! You promised me a bedtime story!”

   Numeri giggled, “That I did, that I did…” she murmured. “Hm, let’s see… How about the story of Finderella.”

   “Ooh,” Elda’s eyes shone, “that’s my favourite.”

   “Glad to hear it,” Numeri said and then she glanced at Chongire, “what about you?”

   “It’s not bad.” Chongire replied with a flippant gesture of his gauntlet.

   “Well, you can do the prince’s voice.” Numeri said impishly.

   “I’ll try.” Chongire grumbled, he didn’t think he was going to be very good at it.

   Not like Numeri. She was a natural. Her tone of narration as she reeled off the story of the mermaid named Finderella was beautiful. Elda smiled, her eyes slowly closing, as she listened to Numeri’s fairy tale and by the end of it, Elda was snuggly and cosy in the bed. Numeri smiled gently and kissed Elda’s forehead.

   “And Finderella lived happily ever after…” she murmured, “Good night, Elda, sweet dreams, we’ll see you in the morning.

   “Okay,” Elda yawned, half-asleep, “night, night, Mama… g’night, Papa.”

   Numeri giggled, a scant blush of blue to her purplish face. She glanced at Chongire who was completely embarrassed.

   “Aww,” she whispered, “not yet ready to be a daddy?” she teased him.

   “N-No, it's not like that, argh, darn kids these days… I’m not that old.” Chongire grumbled.

   Numeri slowly edged away from the side of Elda’s bed and slithered towards Chongire. She slipped her arms around his huge, shelled forearms and snuggled in.

   “Speak for yourself,” Numeri murmured, “my biological clock is ticking.”

   Chongire grumbled but nothing coherent.

   “I think it's sweet that Elda considers us parental figures.” Numeri said and Chongire opened the door for them.

   Chongire’s guarded expression softened, “Yeah, it is,” Chongire murmured, “I guess I just wish…”

   “Wish it didn’t have to be so?” Numeri finished Chongire’s sentence for him.

   He nodded gravely as they continued down the halls. It was pretty lonely and very tough to grow up in the bottom of the ocean. Down an abyss where no one wanted them, except to use them like with the Witch of Delays. Cast out from the Grand Ocean, where light did penetrate the layers upon layers of water, where song and dance were commonplace. Where it was vibrant with energy and motivation and for reasons unknown, even to the adults that they were now, they had been forbidden it. Parents had abandoned them, or maybe they just came out of the squishy egg shell alone with only their instincts. Him, Numeri, and even little Elda. That was all the beats of their story - and it wasn’t exactly a fairy tale nor was it to be on the villains’ side.

 “C’mon, let’s go to bed, we’re too old to stay up late, don’t you think, Papa?” Numeri teased him even after that lull of unspoken, melancholic reverie.

   “Whatever you say, marm.” Chongire teased her back.

   “Well, I'm the doctor and doctors always know best.” Numeri said and she stretched herself up, her sea cucumber tail wiggling unsightly, just so she could get a chance at pecking the side of Chongire’s face.

   He smiled back at her, “Thanks and good night, Numeri, don’t sleep in again or we’ll all get in trouble.”

   “You better take your own advice as well then,” Numeri said and there was a bittersweet hesitance to how her hands slowly receded back to herself, the slimy pads of her fingertips skating over Chongire’s exoskeleton, “good night, Chongire.”