This was a very, very long time coming! I'm sorry I have been absent for so long, I have been in a rutt that I had a really hard time getting out of.
I hope you enjoy!
AO3
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There was never a quiet moment inside the Amicitia household. Not when there were five children running around. That Astrid would be lucky to get five minutes of peace before cries filled the house because one child got hurt from the roughhousing going on. Doesn’t help that Gladio gifted the children wooden swords that they were constantly swinging at each other. Though, it was to be expected from children of the former King’s Shield. And Astrid wouldn’t want it any other way.
Surprisingly today, the children have been playing in the backyard of the newly renovated Amicitia Estate after the Ten Years of Darkness. A far better set up then what Astrid and Gladio had in Lestallum, with it being overcrowded by those escaping the arsenal of Deamons that were emerging from the shadows. They had nothing more than a shack that was only big enough for the bare necessities. No place to raise a child in any means, but they made it work for their first-born child, Aster. Now seeing the children playing in an open space with sunlight filtering through the canopy of the ancient oak that miraculously survived the siege of Insomnia. No artificial lights that protected against the nightmares of the world. Laughter filling the household as hope and love now returning to a scarred world.
Astrid rubbed her swollen abdomen tenderly as she read from her worn out copy of Watership Down in the sunroom, glancing up ever so often to ensure that her rambunctious horde were all accounted for and that they weren’t causing any serious injuries to another. Much like their father, they didn’t know their own strength. One little push ending up feeling like being hit by an Iron Giant. Thankfully, no serious injuries follow, just scrapes and bruises, but the dramatics make it seem far worse than a scraped knee.
Once she was sure that her children weren’t killing each other and none were missing, Astrid went back to reading. She gave a light grunt as she felt a tiny pair of feet kicking in her womb, “I know you want to join your brothers and sisters, but you have another two months to bake.” She cooed, marking her place in her book, watching as a little foot stretched her abdomen in another kick.
Astrid watched as her stomach rippled as the baby moved about, treating her like a punching bag in the process. She rubbed her stomach in hopes to settle the baby with an affectionate smile. Her gaze shifted toward the sky, the sun was still high with not a cloud in the sky. A blessing that was now never taken for granted. All in part to the sacrifice of Noctis, his last duty as king. A blessing she and Gladio were sure their children would forever appreciate and never take for granted.
“Thank you Noctis,” Astrid whispered, smiling up at the sky, “If only you could be with us now.”
“He’s here.” Astrid turned with a start, relaxing when she spotted Gladio leaning against the doorway of the sunroom, he had dirt and grime on his face and clothing, “He will always be with us. Whenever the sun rises he is there.”
“You’ve gotten sentimental in your old age.” Astrid joked, accepting the chaste kiss on her lips as Gladio stepped toward her. “What happened to the tough Crownsguard, now turned Hunter, that I married?”
Gladio chuckled, falling to one knee before her, leaning his forehead against Astrid’s, “I think you have rubbed off on me Princesa.”
Astrid smiled upon hearing the nickname, relishing in the warmth that Gladio always seemed to radiate. She had missed him. It had only been a week since he left for a hunt close to Lestallum. A behemoth was crouching a little too close for comfort to the city. But that week had felt like years—not knowing if he would come back alive or if the only thing she would have of him would be his dog tags. It helped quell her anxiety when he would go on hunts with Ignis and Prompto. It was a knowing comfort that Gladio had people watching his back as well as him watching theirs.
“Thank you for coming home.” The weight lifted off of her chest, wrapping her arms around Gladio’s neck. As she did, she felt Gladio relaxing his shoulders, easing into her embrace.
He took a long breath, as if he had been holding it in, “I’ll always come home to you.” He lifted his head enough to look up at Astrid. His large, callused hands cupped her cheek as he did, Astrid took hold of his wrist, leaning into his touch so her lips could brush against his palm. “How’s our little bud doing?” His other hand rested on Astrid’s stomach, feeling the little one kicking.
Astrid rested her hand on Gladio’s. “Active as ever, as are the rest of them.” She shifted her eyes toward the yard where the children were now climbing the large oak tree, “So far there are no injuries to report.”
They both laughed at that. Last time Gladio was away from home he had gotten a text from Astrid to let him know that they youngest, Diphylleia had split the bottom of her chin open after she fell when chasing after her twin brother—Campion—which was supposed to be a relaxing outing at the park with Prompto and Ignis’s families. It was a miracle she didn’t need stitches, but just a quick glue job from the doctor and a very proud looking Diphylleia, showing off her chin in the photo Astrid sent Gladio from the doctor’s office.
“I’m rather relieved for that,” Gladio grunted as he got up to his feet. His knees popping in the process, “Wish I could say the same for me.”
Astrid took a quick survey of her husband for any injuries but saw none. But she was sure that he was hiding them under his leather jacket. She would have a better inspection of him tonight when the children were all asleep. “Before or after the children get their hands on you?” she joked, kissing the tip of his nose.
He helped Astrid out of her chair, “Behemoth has nothing on how strong my kids are.”
“Brace yourself.” Astrid waddled over to the screen door of the sunroom that opened to the yard. She stepped out first with Gladio squatting down behind her. “My Flower Garden,” Astrid called out to her children, each of them stopping what they were doing to look at her, “Guess who’s home?”
She stepped to the side, giving Gladio a wide berth as he stretched out wide with an even wider grin. It didn’t even take a second before all five children hopped off the tree and made a mad dash toward him, with the youngest ones up front while the oldest two stayed behind. A formation they all just systematically utilized. Soon Gladio was tackled by his children, barely able to stay up as they all swarmed him in a tangle of limbs, all trying to wrap around him. He did his best to wrap his arms around all five of his kids, with mild success.
No matter how many times Gladio had to leave home for hunts, this is what he would never tire of, and hoped his children would still come running to him. No matter how big they got. He wanted them to enjoy their childhood, something he never had the privilege to. Him being the child of the King’s Shield left to little room for him to be a child. Hours spent training and keeping a vigil over Noctis was all he had time to do. He didn’t want that for his children. Never have them think of duty first before one’s self. Though he may not regret it, it wasn’t a life he would have chosen. Though if any of his children wanted to follow in his footsteps to be a Hunter, he wouldn’t be opposed.
“Alright Flower Garden,” Astrid tried to usher the children off of Gladio, doing her best to contain her own laughter, “Daddy missed you all too.”
One by one they were all peeled off of Gladio with fits of giggles. Gladio got up with a grunt, his smile never leaving his face, “It seems we raised ourselves a bunch of strong hunters.” Gladio beamed at his brood, “But I think they need some more training.” A mischievous glint shown in his amber eyes. A mischievous grin.
Astrid did her best to stifle her laughter as she watched their children gauging Gladio with confused looks on their faces. “I don’t know, they seem to be ready to take on a behemoth like you did when you were younger.”
“You think so?” Gladio scratched the scruff on his chin in feign thought, “only one way to find out.”
He lunged forward, grabbing hold of the first child within reach, lifting their shirt to expose their belly and progressed to blow raspberries on their soft flesh. He proceeded to make munching noises as if he was eating the hapless child. The rest of the children darted back toward the garden, “Run! A behemoth is loose in Insomnia!” Their shrill laughter filled the yard as Astrid watched on as Gladio charged toward the other children with a roar.
hi im stepping in as ur local cane user and i just wanna quickly add this about cane swords: if someone is putting weight onto their cane, they almost definitely aren’t using a cane sword (some exceptions may be possible). this is because the usual cane sword is made hollow with a relatively flimsy exterior metal as to not scrape against the interior sword, and thus the handle is typically the only solid part.
trust me–i’ve been on the lookout for a sturdy cane sword for years that would be practical for use and everytime i could feel it struggling under pressure.
it makes it relatively unreliable as a cane for the majority of people who use canes…. however! there is a neat alternative!
you can instead opt for a trusty knife hidden in the top of the cane, therefore making the rest of the cane sturdier to use, and, additionally, less likely to be checked when passing security. another fantastic cane that a friend of mine has actually unscrews the handle to reveal a tiny compartment that fits a small bottle. she mentioned it’s an antique, so we theorized that it was for cocaine back in the day, but it could fit other things (cyanide, maybe for a disabled spy character?)
also, as someone who also is trained in sword-based self defense: i find that i can relatively translate most basic strikes using my cane, if needed. just something to use….
what i’m getting at is there are lots of ways to expand upon epic cane usages.
make oc playlists. spend hours on moodboards that have no purpose. write self-indulgent fluff that’s never going to be published. scribble three lines of poetry in the back of your history notebook. draw fanart of your own characters. write stupid dialogue that your publishers might hate. start new wips that you might never finish but write those three chapters that make you happy because if you don’t write them, who else will?
writing shouldn’t always be about “will publishers like this” or “i have to reach this word count” or “how do i get the most likes”.
To my friends, fellow artists, moonies, fannibals, geeks and nerds who live in the Ukraine, my support, love and prayers are with you. Be safe please. 💙💛🇺🇦
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