#soulsow

”You’re going where now?”

Incredulously, Radegonde peered at him, seated on the playroom floor where the twins sat beside her, cooing and toddling amidst the toys strewn around them.

“The thirteenth,” Samson hissed between teeth clenched in a smile. The last thing he wanted to talk about was work, but he was simply too polite for his own good—and did his best not to leave any questions unanswered. Besides, with his sister-in-law he knew the topic would circle back around eventually…

“Weren’t you just in the first not long ago—“ Gondie winced as a fistful of her long hair was yanked by her giggling niece. He frowned and stooped to his knees, gathering the child up as he continued:

“I was. This is different.”

“I should hope it involves less of that ancient nonsense.” Radegonde frowned as the other girl crawled onto the dark skirts of her aunt’s lap, reaching for a brightly-painted rook toy not far from her grasp.

“It doesn’t seem that way.” Samson relished in the girl’s toothless smile as he handed her the toy, while the other in his lap toothed on the tail of a stuffed wyrmling.

“…And I doubt anything called the thirteenth means you’ll be taking them with you anytime soon.” He grew quiet at the words he’d known and ruminated on since he’d returned, this time with Zero in tow. After discussing with Vrtra and Y’shtola they had decided it best to wait before having her accompany him back home to Ishgard, as it’d still been relatively early since she awoke. He couldn’t begin to comprehend how different everything must have been to her, but then again, they now learned that the Void had formerly been as vibrant as the Source; it was chilling to think back on the fate they had so narrowly avoided. Samson was grateful they’d survived the ordeal—he just couldn’t shake the feeling of how hopelessly unfair it seemed, that such ceaseless sacrifice was asked of him.

The girls had only seen their first summer, and yet Samson felt at odds with everything else thrust upon his shoulders that everyone expected of him—that Eorzea needed of him. How he wished he could’ve been home with his family as much as he’d wanted; while this wasn’t the idyllic life he’d once considered back when he was but a boy in the La Noscean countryside he was stalwart in protecting what he had now, and he would never surrender it for anything else.

“...We brought back a friend.” He pivoted her question—and she seemed happy to oblige him, though the look in her eyes said otherwise.

“So I heard.”

“Likes apples…” Gondie blinked.

“Maybe that’s why Peep loves his apple pie.” The darling little Deepeye that often followed at her ankles proved more friendly than his housemate Gus. Any minute now, Sam believed he would hover by and demand affection in the form of chin-scritches or treats. 

“I was thinking we should let her try apples in different forms, too. Maybe we can get Puddingway and—”

“I don’t recall applesauce being pudding.” The other girl, still secure in her aunt’s lap, had exchanged the rook for a toy unicorn.

“I think it’s close enough. Apple pudding…”

“I would imagine it’s smoother—like cream.” The one in his hold turned her attention to the other dragon—this time, colored red instead of blue, but with the same sewn buttons as eyes—and discarded the latter on the floor by her father’s knee.

“We can even have one of them test it. They should be old enough, right?” 

“I…would ask the physician first.” He coughed while the girl on his lap stared up at him, as if on cue—big bright eyes like her mother’s. The same eyes he had trouble refusing.

“They’ll probably end up liking it anyway.” Radegonde gestured to a servant and offered up the girl, standing and brushing the skirts of her indigo dress.

“I still don’t want them to get sick…” Samson murmured as he watched her stretch with a yawn.