King & Lionheart

A Dream

"Wake up, silly goose!"

Tabris groaned, rolling over in bed. A soft, warm duvet encompassed her, and in the early fall, was the best place to be. "Five more minutes."

"But mommy," the child whined, tugging at her shoulder. "Daddy said I couldn't have any cake until you woke up."

One of Tabris's eyes popped open. "What kind of cake?"

"Pineapple upside down, the kind that grandma makes."

"Is grandma... here?"

"Of course she is! Please please please get up now?"

Sitting up, the little girl clapped her hands with a wide smile, missing her two front teeth.

"You have your daddy's cheeks," Tabris grinned back, pinching her daughter's face. The girl took her hand as Tabris rose from bed, hanging on her pajama's sleeve.

"I got her, I got her!" the girl dragged her along, the kitchen warm from the use of the oven. Hardwood floors creaked softly under their steps, the early morning sun still peering through the chiffon curtains. Tabris's bare feet pressed against the wood, a pleasant cooling against her skin. A long white t shirt that smelled of cologne fell above her knees, the sleeves to the bend of her elbow, hair swishing just below her jaw. When did she cut it? She couldn't remember.

"That's my girl," Nelaros pressed a kiss to the girl's head, another woman standing at the counter, cutting whipped cream and pineapple pudding covered cake. She was taller than Tabris, and much thinner, but her face was the same, just a little older. Crowsfeet formed at the outer corners of her hazel eyes.

"Magdalena, baby, sit at the table and I'll cut you a piece," Adaia said with a kind voice, the same one Tabris remembered from the depths of her childhood. Tabris sat next to Magdalena.

"What's the occasion?" she asked, feeling a warmth in her lap. Goose's head rested politely, peering up with begging eyes.

"Go lay down," Magdalena ordered in a half-hearted tone, shoveling a big forkful into her mouth.

"You'd think after all the times I thought to remind you, you'd remember the date you defeated the Archdemon, you know, saving the world from total destruction. Something to remember," Nelaros said, placing a plate in front of her. Tabris raised her brows, her husband sitting down across from her.

"Oh..." she muttered, staring down at her food, finding it difficult to bring herself to eat. "Where're the others?"

"Well, I'm here because I live here," Alistair said, Tabris looking to see he'd taken her husband's spot at the table. "But August'll be late. Oh, Cyrion is out picking up Shianni and Soris. It'll be fun to have them around."

"I miss Uncle Auggie," Magdalena jut out her lower lip, Alistair ruffling her long, sandy blonde hair. Human ears hid underneath. Tabris dropped her fork.

"Where... are the others?" she asked again, pushing her seat back, and standing. "I was just with them."

Alistair frowned, furrowing his brows. He was older now, if only by a few years, with a slight stubble lining his broad jawline, but his eyes still held the same soothing warmth she'd begun to know. They looked at her with a softness she'd never known from a man, the slight concern at her question genuine.

"They're on their way," he assured her, taking her shoulders. His touch held... love? Is that what that felt like, coming from someone who wasn't blood related to her? "It takes a while to get from the city all the way out here. Your fault, by the way, for insisting on the quiet."