𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐠 。 。 。
latest grave robbed: BHAALTWINS BIRTHDAY 。
@accultant ⸻ ❝ This year's gift required scheming, which Iago was a little worried about, but hopeful their deceit would be lighthearted enough to be forgiven. It couldn’t be too bad if everyone else was so willing to help them, right? Shadowheart and Astarion had arguably the most important job: keeping Puck out of the house under the half-guise of a trip planned for a couple of weeks before their birthday. Iago trusted they could keep him distracted while the rest was done at home.
And there was certainly plenty to get done. The instant Puck was out of sight, Iago got to work and hardly stopped to do more than sleep or eat until she was scheduled to return in time for the twins to celebrate. They’re just adding the final touches - tiny, hand-painted dandelions decorating the door frame - when Wyll, assigned watch, sprints down the hall to tell them the eagle has landed in the den or the the wolf has entered the nest or whatever silly signal they both had agreed upon for the arrival of the birthday girl. Even Shadowheart’s parents played along, stalling him at the end of the road to dote on their favorite little gentleman and give Iago a few more precious minutes to scramble around.
At last, Puck finds an uninvited Iago in her home, slamming the spare room door behind themselves just in time, a little out of breath.
“Boo,” they say, smiling. Their shaggy hair is a mess, having long since fallen out of the hopeless attempt to keep it tucked into short braids. Their clothing is no less disheveled, a somewhat ratty outfit they save for garden work or home repair, an apron that has seen much better days. At least they try to wipe off the smear of paint on their cheek - except they scrub the entirely wrong side before clasping their hands in front of them and bouncing on their toes.
“You're back a little earlier than expected. Happy almost birthday.”
Behind the closed door behind them, Puck's present: a completed nursery with so much love poured into it, it's almost palpable. The overall aesthetic is one of Iago's design: the smallest accents of macabre to fit the style both Darlington's admittedly gravitate towards among a softer, lighter scheme so the baby Darlington wouldn't start off with too much doom and gloom. A marvelous toy chest sits in one corner ( matching the bookshelf and armoire Iago had commissioned months ago ), filled until almost bursting with toys that Iago has collected, found, fixed up, or made. A mountain of blankets, - courtesy of Tempest and the Tav family members that she had recruited to quilt or knit - each one adorned with the name Dandelion. A rocking chair occupied by a small army of various plush animals ( none of them are haunted, Iago triple-checked ). The mobile over the crib is Iago's creation alone, a beautiful thing of wood and silvery baubles and bone ( just a touch of macabre here and there, nothing too dark, really, they checked with Wyll and everything, even he said it looked quite lovely- ), enchanted to sway and twirl ever so gently without needing even the slightest breeze.
Of course, that's only scratching the surface of all they've done to prepare the spare room for the Darlington to come- This child is to be spoiled rotten before he's ever even born.
Maybe not a gift for Puck herself, Iago had realized at some point along their planning, so they've gotten their twin a new pair of earrings, as well, though they were so caught up in the nursery that they had forgotten where they put the box. It’s around here somewhere, probably. ❞
❝ I CAN STILL OPEN DOORS just fine, you know, ❞ Puck sighs, hardly any venom left after the thousandth time of having to say something of a similar vein for the past few months.
❝ Well, somebody refused to allow me to hold her luggage for her, ❞ Shadowheart quips back with ease, also having said something of a similar vein for the thousandth time, single eyebrow cocked at Puck’s half-hearted attitude.
❝ So it is my duty & my right to be oh-so-chivalrous & hold the door open for my lovely, stubborn wife who must be reminded she is with child every ten minutes, lest she decides to start building an entire shed when no one’s looking. Again. ❞
Puck’s nose scrunches up. ❝ But Astarion took my luggage. I have two perfectly capable, free hands to open doors with. ❞
From behind, Astarion chimes in: ❝ Oh, how strange, ❞ he all but purrs, the sound of a vampire scheming something very silly.
There's the sound of bags crinkling, brushing against one another as they slip from fingers to wrists. A bone white hand takes hold of Puck’s. ❝ I am almost absolutely certain at least one of your hands is rather occupied at the moment. You couldn't possibly carry anything with those, ahem, dainty little arms you're so known to have~ ❞
Puck rolls her eyes but relents nonetheless & pats Shadowheart’s cheek with her remaining free hand as she walks through the door, Astarion still latched onto her as he winks at the cleric on the way inside.
❝ Thank you, my loves. ❞ A reluctant but genuine declaration of gratitude from the duo's darling Darlington.
Honestly, though, he’s barely even showing yet. He doesn’t need help to enter his own home.
And a shed would be very useful ！
Upon stepping into the foyer, Puck immediately knows something is up. Well, he’s known something was up for a while now, both his spouses acting a bit too buddy-buddy & secretive with one another during their two-week holiday. ( Before that as well, now that Puck is thinking about it. )
❝ Someone is in my house, ❞ he states matter-of-factly, making the other two freeze & not-so-subtly side-eye one another.
❝ Multiple someones, ❞ he adds after a pause.
❝ Well, yes, dear, ❞ Astarion snarks without missing a beat, ❝ There's three of us, after all. Four, if you count ⸻ ❞ He is smacked in the arm with a ❛ Shh ！❜
Head tilt. Sniff. Puck's eyebrows lift in mild surprise, but his tensed shoulders ease.
❝ Oh. Iago is in my house. ❞ His voice sounds much warmer now, fond. Contended, his tail swishes behind him. Iago's presence in his home while he was away would have been incredibly concerning some years ago. Puck doesn’t mind the intrusion now, but she is confused by it.
A scoff beside her. Astarion lets go of her hand to lightly pinch her nose, prompting her to bite him.
❝ Leave it to the little mutt’s nose to ruin ⸻ ❞ An indignant squawk escapes the vampire’s lips as one hand recoils, the other suddenly dropping the bags he’d previously stolen from the biting biter.
❝ You wretched beast ！Ugh, Shadowheart dear, your rabid husband is attempting to spread his diseases again . . . ❞ Spoken as he swats Puck away from bending down to grab the bags off the floor. ❝ And he’s doing things again, too. ( Will you stop it, you hound ！) ❞
❝ When he does that, he’s your wife, actually. ❞ Gentle but firm, Shadowheart copies Astarion’s move from earlier, taking Puck’s hand in hers & tugging him away from his ever-present need to help with every little thing in the world.
❝ Wait, what does he mean, ❛ ruin ？❜ And Astarion hates holding things, ‘s not fair that he has to just because . . . ❞ Puck continues to grumble under his breath but allows himself to be dragged down the hall anyway.
Once out of the vampire’s earshot, Shadowheart finally replies, suspiciously only to Puck’s second comment, ❝ Yes, you are very lucky that he likes you taking care of yourself & your baby more than he hates holding things. ❞
Luckily for Shadowheart, Puck is still easy to distract. She hums thoughtfully at that as her spare hand finds its way to rest on her stomach. ❝ I suppose that’s quite sweet of him, yes. Though he undoubtedly cares more for the former than the latter. ❞
Ah, was that a hint of bitterness in his tone ？
Until recently, the vampire was rather good at pretending little Dandelion simply did not exist at all. ( Puck has a feeling Tempest threatened him about it somehow. Awesome woman. )
Shadowheart purses her lips. Her irritation regarding Astarion’s reaction has always been loud & clear. But then her expression softens with a sigh. ❝ He’s more afraid than anything else, I think. Not exactly a common situation we’ve landed ourselves in. Though that would be the standard for us, of course. When have we ever done something the normal way ？❞
They share a brief, knowing smile between one another. Shadowheart squeezes Puck’s hand. ❝ He does care. In his own way. Or he's trying to. ❞
There's a distinct shift in the way she speaks about it ; it's much different than before they had left home, and it has Puck side-eying his wife, then. ❝ You know, you two have been very cryptic lately. Care to tell me what’s going on yet ？❞
A coy smile stretches across Shadowheart’s face. ❝ Oh, so you did notice. I suppose I should have known. You’ve always preferred to mind your business about the strangest of things at the strangest of times. Perhaps you’d better ask your twin about it. ❞
She gestures down the hall, towards where the spare bedroom was, before giving Puck a little nudge forward. ❝ Go on then, mama bear. ❞
❝ Oh, haha. ❞ But curiosity is already propelling Puck forward. It isn't long before he reaches the end of the hall, just in time for the door to slam shut before he can peek inside. A breathless, wild-eyed Iago stands in front of it now.
❝ Hey. You missed a spot, ❞ he snickers, pointing at the paint smear on the side of Iago's face they neglected to scrub. ❝ Yeah, we decided to come back early because I had the strangest feeling there was some sort of intruder in our house. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you ？❞
But before Iago could even think about coming up with a witty remark to continue their banter, Puck catches a glimpse of the dandelions on the door. Golden eyes glitter & lips part as wheels begin to turn in their sister's head.
❝ Wait. Is that- You didn't- Did you ⸻ ？❞ Puck brushes past Iago, heart jumping into his throat, as he rests a hand on the door handle. Now, he suddenly has the strangest feeling he's about to get teary-eyed. ( As if he weren't already a crybaby before all of this. )
Puck turns to stare at Iago. Barely a whisper, he asks: ❝ Are you about to make a pregnant lady cry, Ia ？❞
The answer is yes, of course. Puck's eyes land on the crib for only a second before he gasps, as if he hadn't already guessed what he'd find behind the door, tears threatening to spill over at any moment. ❝ Oh ！Ia, what have you done ！❞
Not an accusatory statement, that. It sounds positively delighted. Overjoyed.
Puck covers her mouth in awe, stepping inside the nursery with another gasp. ❝ Ohhh, it's perfect. I- Oh, look at that . . . ❞
He gravitates towards the crib, watching the mobile spin as the softest smile in the world lights up his face. Then he takes in as much of the room as he can, every once in a while turning to look back at Iago to fawn & gasp & laugh.
❝ Gods, I can't believe you did all of this while we were gone . . . I- I don't even know what to say. Thank you. Really, I love it. ❞ Currently, she's looking all around the room again as she sits in the rocking chair, having gently pushed the plushy army aside to make room for herself. She looks quite comfortable there. At home.
❝ Oh, I'm so excited ！❞ She kicks her feet a little, childlike in her joy. Giggling & wiping stray tears from her face. ❝ I'd get up to hug you, but I'm really quite cozy at the moment. You understand. ❞
