Chapter Text
September 28th
2 weeks after his graduation from law school.
And now, 2 infants.
Dainsleif hadn’t spoken to his girlfriend in months. She’d disappeared one day and he hadn’t been able to talk to her, find her. He just assumed that she’d gotten bored and moved on.
Until the phone rang, and the woman on the other line said that his girlfriend was in labor.
When did she get pregnant? Why didn’t she tell him? Where did she go and why would she abandon him with 2 infants after not telling him she was pregnant? These things Dainsleif may never now.
But what he does know is that two twins- a boy and a girl- sit in cribs before him.
Before he learns to change them, feed them, raise them, they need names. But what to name them? He had no time to think, he wasn’t even sure he ever wanted kids. But the idea of putting them up for adoption… just doesn’t settle right in his stomach.
Dainsleif sighs, rocking side to side on his feet. Names, they need names.
They have blonde hair— more like fuzz— like him. But lighter, livelier. He wonders if their hair will grow even lighter during the summer and spring. The sun always makes his hair a little lighter. Will they even like the summer, will they like going outside at all? Maybe one but not the other.
He gently reaches a hand out, resting his fingers over the edge of the boy’s— his boy’s— cradle.
“I hope you’re a good brother.” Dainsleif whispers, the newborn still soundly asleep, head lolled to the side.
They almost don’t look or feel real. Like baby dolls he’s seeing from a memory. Their skin glows beneath the light of early morning. He’s glad he’d been awarded a room with a window, even if it was because the nurses took pity on him.
He’d woken up to his phone ringing and ringing. He wasn’t groggy for long, as the words ‘girlfriend’ and ‘labor’ sent him in a frantic search for a shirt and shoes. For the love of all that’s good, he has pajama shorts on.
After multiple hours of screaming from his girlfriend, and restraining the screaming he wanted to do at her, came the twins. First, the boy. Then, the girl. Both with the light of dawn.
Dainsleif had conked out for a much needed nap, and by the time he awoke, his girlfriend was gone. Not even the staff knows where she’s disappeared to.
Two babies with the sunrise.
Two names start to form in the back of his mind.
The boy blinks, eyes bleary as he yawns. The girl wakes up just a few seconds after, miraculously in sync with her brother.
“Hello…” Dainsleif whispers, “Hello Aether… hello Lumine.”
—
September 28th, 5 years later
Aether and Lumine are still asleep, curled around stuffed animals and nestled into star-patterned blankets.
Dainsleif is slaving over the stove, praying that the smell of eggs doesn’t wake the two up. He pulls the pan off the burner, dishing scrambled eggs onto two plates.
Pan goes in the sink… not the dishwasher.
He sorts through the cabinet, pulling out some salt and pepper. Just a dash of the seasonings on each; the twins aren’t old enough yet to be big fans of fancy spices.
He turns off the second burner, letting the bacon sizzle in the leftover butter. After a moment, he removes it and pats it dry.
The kids get two each. I get three.
Admittedly, he usually ends up donating his third piece for the twins to split, because they always whine for just a little bit more. He would make more, but he’s trying to make everything in the fridge last.
This is just temporary housing. His boss had warned not to bring too much into this apartment- including food. He’ll be leaving it soon. It’s not a disappointment. There’s no back garden for the twins to enjoy and they’re on the third story with a broken fire escape.
He never expected that, when he signed up for the military, the biggest thing he’d be doing for them was moving.
Moving, maybe every month. Always on call, but never making the final cut. Sure, his college debts were paid off and he gets free insurance, which are two things most single parents could only dream of. But the idea that, one day, a director might decide it doesn’t matter if he’s a single parent…
…
He’d signed up for military at 18 so he could get away from his family as fast as possible. To think, now, it had brought him a new one.
“Daddy…?” A gentle voice whispers in the doorway.
Dainsleif turns his head, looking in his daughter’s direction.
“Good morning, Lumi.” He says, bringing his attention back to the bacon.
“Hi, daddy…” Lumine yawns, blanket dragging behind her.
I need to wash that.
A quiet chuckle escaped his lips, “Happy birthday. Is your brother awake?”
“Not yet.” Lumine rubs at her eyes, “Wha’s dat?” She waddles towards the stove, and Dainsleif holds out an arm to stop her from getting too close.
“Your first gift. Go wake your brother.” He says, patting her shoulder as an indicator to set off. He observes as she shuffles through the tight kitchen, wondering if Aether will actually wake up when he’s shaken. The boy tends to sleep heavy, very heavy. Something Dainsleif has considered bringing up with the pediatrician, however, there’s just been no time lately.
He pushes both pans to the back of the stove, and carefully takes both plates in his hands. He places them next to each other at the tiny kitchen table, with two hard, colored plastic cups and silverware.
The giggle from down the hall indicates that Aether has- in fact- woken up to his sister’s nagging. As they walk down the hall, Dainsleif mulls over the location of their gift in his head.
“Daddy, it’s our birthday.” Aether says, boosting his little body onto a chair.
“I know.” Dainsleif responds, the corners of his mouth turned up, “You think I’d forget?”
Seriously. How could he ever?