They decide to get married at The Tomlinson House, the place where it all began. Niall serves as best man for the both of them, and brags relentlessly that it was him who essentially brought the two of them together in the first place. He and Louis let him have his moment, especially since they’re jetting off half-way across the world again as soon as they say I do.

Harry frets with the collar of his jacket where he’s standing at the top of the creaky staircase. He can hear the strings die down and then start up again with the song they chose for their processional march, and he’s never been more nervous about potentially falling down a flight of stairs.

His mother takes his arm and gives it a light squeeze when she hears the cue of the music. She gives Louis’ mother a thumbs up where she’s waiting outside of her son’s door. She returns it, and then the two of them begin their slow descent.

His knuckles are white from so much attention as they float through the sunroom. They make it to the altar and his mother leaves a kiss on his cheek before taking her seat with the rest of their friends and family. It’s nerve-wracking standing by himself, but he’s only alone for a little while before the music swells up again and Louis is walking towards him with his mother on his arm. He looks just as gorgeous as he did the night they met in this very room, wearing a smile that would also be identical if it weren’t for the way his eyes are shining.

The attempt Harry had made to stay calm is forgotten when Louis’ mother kisses his cheek at the altar and leaves her son to stand beside him. Harry has been on the verge on tears all morning but he didn’t want to give Louis the satisfaction of him crying first, however he lets them fall when he sees that Louis has already forgotten his pride and is openly wiping at his eyes in front of all of these people.

The ceremony gets less emotional as the minutes pass, and pretty soon all Harry can focus on is the part where he becomes Louis’ husband.

Niall hands them the rings when they’re getting close. Harry’s heart feels like it’s in his throat when he slides the golden band onto Louis’ finger, a satisfaction like nothing else he’s ever felt in life when Louis beams up at him. Louis repeats the process and slides Harry’s wedding band onto his finger until it’s nestled against his grandfather’s ring.

Harry doesn’t hear anything else going on in the room, but his ears perk up when Louis is asked to say ‘I do.’ He watches Louis’ mouth form the words, his eyes shining again as he waits for Harry to repeat them. The officiant reads off the list of promises that he’s swearing to keep and Harry rushes to agree, saying ‘I do’ so quickly that Louis and everyone else laughs. They have to listen to some other stuff that Harry couldn’t care less about at the moment, and then finally the moment comes. His heart has never felt so full and light all at once when Louis reaches for him and connects their lips. Their kiss is fueled by excitement and adrenaline, and Harry is certain that he’ll never feel happier than in this moment.

*

“You two don’t even need a honeymoon. You’re never in the country as it is,” Niall grumbles as he’s hugging them goodbye. Camille nudges him in the arm to shut him up.

“He’s just jealous,” she laughs. “He’s been complaining about it for weeks.”

Niall turns to her with a traitorous look. “I have not! I love the Caribbean,” he explains like his fondness for the islands will change their minds about letting him join. “I’m just saying you could’ve invited me along. Not for the honeymoon parts but just, you know, for moral support or whatever.”

Harry smirks, pretty confident that he won’t need help or moral support from anybody to have a good honeymoon with his husband. Louis’ grin says the same thing when they lock eyes.

“Well, we have a flight to catch,” Louis announces out of nowhere, waving to their guests that have come to the entryway to see them off for their island hopping adventure.

Niall rolls his eyes. “It’s a private fucking plane. It leaves whenever you tell it to,” he says, leaning in to wrap them both in a final embrace.  “Goodbye. I love you both. Have fun. Get out.”

They are all too happy to oblige as they practically run out the door with the promise to see them all in a couple of weeks.

Niall was right when he said there was no rush, so they take their time getting to the airport. They’re only a little bit late from stopping off at Harry’s to change and get their suit cases. Now there’s nothing left to do, but sit back and enjoy the nine hour ride.

“What exactly are you looking for?” Harry asks when Louis has yet to relax beside him. His determined hands have been riffling through both of their bags since take off.

“The list,” he answers. “I know I packed it…I made sure of it.” His eyes light up when he produces a pen and the folded up list from a side pocket of his duffel.

He reads through the list of items until he finds the one that he needs.

“Marry the love of my life,” he reads as he draws a line through it. When he’s done he places his hands on either side of Harry’s face for kiss that’s a lot more heated than the one they shared at the altar.

Harry laughs when they break apart and Louis is still scanning the page. “Now what are you doing? You can’t mark off the Caribbean until after we’ve been there,” he reminds him.

Louis shakes his head. “No, that’s not what I’m looking for...I’m looking for-Ha! Here it is!” he shouts when he finds it scribbled in between Niagara Falls and Moscow. Harry’s eyes grow wide looking down at the paper.

“Now?” he asks, scandalized. “But- But they’ll know! The crew-” he tries, but he can tell Louis is already sold on the idea.

“Oh come on, Haz! We’re the only passengers! If not now, then when?” Harry can’t believe the amount of determination in his eyes. “It’ll be so hot and so much fun! Please? Please? Please?!”

He sighs, caving before Louis can break out the dreaded puppy eyes. “Fine,” he relents with a smile, “But I’m not going first.”

That stipulation doesn’t deter Louis in the slightest. He rummages through their bags again until he finds a packet of lube. He slips it into his pocket before bravely making his way through the cabin and inside of the bathroom. He’s only gone for about thirty seconds before he pokes his head out of the door to beckon him with the worst line Harry has ever heard.

“Hey, Haz… I don’t know how to work the sink… Come help me,” he calls out.

Louis’ pathetic excuse doesn’t catch the attention of anybody except the lone stewardess near the front who kindly pretends like she didn’t hear.

Unlike Louis, the thrill of getting caught makes him more nervous than anything when he stands to join him. His heart is hammering when he steps through the door and Louis is waiting for him with slick fingers and his joggers pooled at his feet.

“Hurry up,” Louis orders him.

Harry’s body responds immediately, his hands already working to shed his clothing before his mind has accepted that this is really happening. They make quick work of opening Louis up before he’s bending himself over the sink he claimed he didn’t know how to use and lets Harry enter him from behind.

Harry has never worked so hard to be quiet in all of his life, which turns out to be a wasted effort when Louis comes in just a few minutes with a loud cry that gets amplified in the basin of the sink. Harry gets pulled over the edge as well, but he isn’t nearly as loud with the soft whine he bites into Louis’ skin.

They stumble out of the bathroom one at a time even though there’s no way everyone didn’t just hear them. The stewardess is still hard at work smoothing out the same blanket she had been folding when Harry left, and again, he’s grateful for her false ignorance.

Louis unfolds the list and relocates, ‘Join the Mile High Club.’ He makes Harry mark through it with an overly pleased smirk.

“Thanks, love. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Harry fondly rolls his eyes. “Well technically you could’ve… you know,” Harry says in a low voice. “But, I’m glad I could help out.”

“Wanks don’t count and aren’t nearly as much fun,” Louis says like the rules of the Mile High Club are common knowledge. “Go on Harry, admit it. It was hot and you liked it.” Harry can’t help his smile as he shakes his head at his ridiculous husband. He still can’t believe he gets to call him that. He still can’t believe he can’t say no to the idiot.

“It was more than hot and I loved it… I’m also glad that you have the scary ability to talk me into doing anything you want.”

“I know you are, love,” Louis kisses his jaw before returning the lube, list, and the pen to his bag. “And that’s exactly why I married you.”

----

Six Years Later

Harry opens his eyes to bright sunshine and immediately closes them again. He’s just about to drift back off when Louis wrenches his arm away from his face.

“Oh no you don’t!  Wake up!”

Harry doesn’t fight it even though he’s exhausted. He and Louis were up most of the night from being too excited and wired to sleep. He has no idea how Louis is so bright eyed when he’s sure Louis got the least amount of sleep between the two of them.

“Good morning.” Harry’s words turn into a big yawn as he rolls onto his back to properly wake up. Louis moves to lay half on top of his chest.

“You mean great morning,” he beams down at him. “Go on, ask me what day it is,” he pushes.

Harry can feel his excitement radiating between them. He adopts a huge smile of his own that stretches across his face when his brain catches up to what Louis is so excited about. “What day is it, love?”

“It’s Due Date Day!”

Harry laughs at the way his eyes light up from finally getting to say it. They’ve all been waiting for this day, counting down for months and weeks, which is no easy task for someone as impatient as Louis. He’s surprised Louis slept at all last night.

Their surrogate, Sarah, has had two successful pregnancies for other couples in the past, and each of those babies came a few days early. Louis had been certain that their baby would come before his due date as well, but so far nothing has happened. Harry and everyone else knows that Louis is counting on their baby arriving today; no one except Harry has the heart to tell him that it doesn’t always work that way despite what the doctor says.

“Louis, remember what the doctor said…” Harry carefully reminds him, so as not to get their hopes up too high.

Louis waves him off just like he did with the doctor after they were informed that their baby is healthy and ready to join the world any day now. “It’s going to be today,” Louis assures him. “I can feel it.”

“You said that yesterday and the day before,” Harry points out with a smirk.

Louis pinches him in the arm. “It’s not my fault that our kid is stubborn.”

“Hmmm... Wonder where he got that from?”

“Probably the same gene pool that he got being an annoying prat from,” Louis quips back.

“Hey!” Harry yells, taking offense and pinching Louis in retaliation. He doesn’t even flinch, his smile growing wider as he moves to lie next to Harry, rather than on him.

“Who do you think he’ll look more like?” he asks dreamily as he stares up at the ceiling.

Harry links their hands between them as he thinks about it again. They had originally planned to use Harry’s sperm and a donor egg from the surrogacy agency they used. Back then, he and Louis had hoped the baby would look somewhat like Harry. Then one day, of her own accord, Louis’ eldest sister volunteered to donate an egg for them. Their child will have both of their families’ genes, so now the possibilities are endless.

“I want him to have your hair, I think,” Harry finally decides.

Louis tugs at a random lock of Harry’s hair that is so long now that it grazes his chest. “Yeah, me too,” Louis teases, causing them both to laugh.

“I hope he has Tomlinson eyes as well. They’re so beautiful and blue.”

“Really?” Louis flips onto his side with a look of disbelief. “I was hoping they’d be green like yours... I’ve always loved your eyes,” Louis admits. Harry can feel his cheeks warm from the compliment. Louis ruins the moment about five seconds later. “I hope he grows up to be as tall as you and as graceful as me.”

Harry frowns at him, half tempted to pinch him again. “Hey! What are you implying?”

“Nothing at all,” he grins with the face of innocence. “Simply that our child should inherit your supermodel height.” The part where he’s low-key calling Harry clumsy goes unsaid.

They lie there, daydreaming about their son until Louis can’t stand being still any longer. He’s up and on the phone with all of their friends and family, declaring today as the day their baby comes. Harry fondly shakes his head at him, praying that he’s right.

He’s proud of him for not driving Sarah insane all day, however, around three in the afternoon Louis starts to get anxious. He calls her up and asks the same barrage of questions he has asked her all week. The questions range from how she’s feeling, if she needs anything, to if there has been any sort of change. She says no, giggling like always at Louis’ dedication, but swears to call the millisecond that something happens.

Louis flops face first onto the couch around six o’clock with a long drawn out sigh. “Your kid is taking forever!”

Harry makes an offended sound at the back of his throat. “My kid? He’s got half of your family’s genes. He’s your kid too.”

“Not when he’s being stubborn like this, he isn’t. I mean really, how hard is it to be born on time? I did it and I’m never on time for anything.”

Harry is quick to agree with that last statement. “He’s just trying to make a grand entrance. He likes the attention just like his dad.”

He knows things are really getting to Louis when he doesn’t even laugh at his joke. Harry leaves his armchair to come sit on the sofa with Louis. He holds him close, cradling him against his chest.

He seems less on edge with Harry holding him, but something still seems off. Louis clears his throat after a few minutes, his voice sounding small and scared.

“Haz? Do you think something might be wrong?”

The question does something funny to Harry’s chest when he asks it. He doesn’t even want to consider that. He can’t, but he can help put Louis’ mind at ease.

“The doctor said our baby is healthy and that everything looks great. Sarah is healthy and she has done this before…I don’t think anything is wrong. I think it’s just taking a little longer than we expected, love.”

The worry etched onto his face starts to fade. “You really think so?”

Harry can’t know any of that for sure, but he sure hopes that he’s right.

“I’m sure of it, love.”

*

It’s just after ten o’clock when Louis drags himself out of the nursey room for the hundredth time today. Harry tries to comfort him in every way he knows how, but he can still tell that he’s disappointed. They go to bed soon after that, feeling exhausted even though the only thing they did all day was wait around the house.

As they lie in bed, Harry holds Louis close to him, praying that their baby comes soon for both of their sakes. He gets his wish when his phone rings at half past two in the morning.

Louis springs up with eyes so bright, no one would ever be able to tell that he was just asleep. The phone isn’t even in his hand yet, and already Louis is asking questions.

“Who is it? Is it her?”

Harry nods to confirm and puts the phone on speaker. “Sarah? Hi, how are you?” Harry rumbles into the receiver.

She greets them sounding wide awake. Harry glances at the clock; it’s two thirty-eight. He’s impressed. “I thought something had changed about an hour ago, but I wanted to be sure before I woke you two up. I’m definitely having contractions, so I’m heading over to the hospital soon.”

Louis snatches the phone out of his hand even though he can hear her perfectly through the speaker. “Sarah, are you sure? These aren’t like those fake contractions or anything…like, it’s really happening? These are real?”

There’s a sharp intake of breath from the other side of the receiver that makes Harry wince for her. “Oh yeah,” she grits out. “These are painfully real.”

Neither of them needs more convincing than that before they’re jumping out of bed. They promise to meet her at the hospital as soon as possible. Harry has never moved faster to get somewhere on time in his life.

Each of their phones are working overtime as they hurry to call everyone and inform them that baby Tomlinson-Styles is officially on the way. Most of their loved ones arrive at the hospital just after they do, a palpable energy thrumming through the waiting room as they settle in.

Harry and Louis have to stop to compose themselves before going in to see Sarah. They only enter the room once they appear less manic for Sarah’s sake. Louis calms down a considerable amount when the doctors tell them it’ll still be a while before there’s a baby, but he looks so thrilled that Sarah is even in labor that his smile never fades.

The two of them get quieter as the hours pass and blur. Louis has been pacing in the corridor or choosing to wait with their families, but he hasn’t said much. No one would be able to guess that he had been wide open this morning.

“You alright?” Harry asks him when they’re just stepping out of Sarah’s room again.

He nods enthusiastically. “I’m great. Fantastic even.”

Harry laughs at the way he’s over compensating.

“You look scared out of your mind.”

Louis covers his face when Harry draws a laugh out of him. “That’s because I am… but it’s a good scared, you know?”

When it comes to Louis, Harry has been scared shitless plenty of times. Riding in a hot air balloon, riding the world’s tallest rollercoaster, and even jumping out of a fucking plane over the island of Hawaii after Louis had to practically push Harry out of it are just a few examples, but being here for the birth of their child is by far the scariest thing they’ve done together. It also happens to be the best.

“I know exactly what you mean,” Harry grins.

*

The sense of calm that had settled over the night gets demolished once the doctor says it’s time to push. Sarah had said they could be in the room, but Harry doesn’t want to be one of those fathers that ends up fainting, so he chooses to stand outside of the door, and because his husband is so wonderful, he opts to wait with him.

Neither of them dare speak a word as they listen at the door. Harry feels like he has been standing there with his ear pressed against the wood for ages, and then finally they hear the unmistakable first cry of their son.

The world feels like it’s underwater when a nurse comes to usher them inside. He registers the room full of hospital staff and the words that they are saying to him, but nothing stands out until a nurse walks towards them with something settled into the crook of her arm. He sees the baby nestled there, but he doesn’t believe he’s actually real until the nurse asks which of them would like to hold him first.

Harry shakes his head and places a hand on Louis’ shoulder to give him the honor. After all, Louis has been waiting a very long time to meet him.

During their time together, Harry has only seen Louis cry a handful of times. Once, when he proposed, a second time at their wedding, and again one morning when he found, ‘Start a Family’ scribbled onto their list in Harry’s handwriting. Those few times hardly matter at all when their son is finally placed in his husband’s arms. He sucks in a ragged, wet breath as he stares down at their son crying in the quiet room. Louis spends a long time just looking at him, memorizing him like he’s having trouble believing he’s real as well. He places the gentlest kiss Harry has ever seen on his forehead before turning to Harry and offering him a chance to hold him.

It still feels like a dream, even with the very real and tiny weight he’s holding in his hands. Harry counts each of his fingers and runs his finger along the slope of his tiny nose, thanking heaven that it looks just as cute as Louis’. His hair is dark like his own. It’s too soon to tell if it’ll be straight or curly, but Harry thinks it would be perfect either way. His son blinks his eyes open for a fraction of a second to reveal a sliver of light blue and that’s all it takes for Harry lose it. He hands the baby back to the nurse when he starts crying so hard that tears start to fall on the soft blanket covering his son’s tiny feet.

Louis is all smiles again with his eyes still swimming with tears when he pulls Harry into him. It’s the wettest kiss they’ve ever shared, but Harry also thinks it may be the best.

They walk to the waiting room together to tell their friends and family the good news. Congratulations and questions fly at them from every direction, but the question that sticks out the most is the same one he and Louis have spent the last nine months debating over.

“What are you going to call him?” Louis’ mother asks, looking just as excited about having a grandson as he and Louis did this morning about becoming dads.

There were a few names that both of them liked, but could never agree on. They decided to wait until he was born to see which one would fit him best, and now that they’ve met him, the choice is obvious. They lock eyes wearing identical grins when they tell the room in unison that their son will be called Matthew.

*

The sun is shining bright when he and Louis manage to sneak away from everyone and head downstairs to get something to eat. They almost make it to the cafeteria as planned, however Louis grabs his hand and guides them in a different direction.

They spot their son sleeping in the nursery along with three other babies with his little fists balled up on each side. Louis’ voice is quiet even though Matthew can’t hear from the other side of the glass.

“I can’t believe we really get to take him home. I keep thinking I’m dreaming and I’m going to wake up.”

Harry drops a kiss to his temple. “I promise you’re not dreaming. I can pinch you if it’ll help.”

Matthew yawns wide like a tiny kitten. Louis coos through the glass at him, but doesn’t miss a beat. “Pinch me and I’ll be forced to retaliate in front of our son.”

Harry bites down on his stupidly happy grin. They have a son.

“I can’t believe we’re here. A year ago this was just another item on the list, and now it’s something real that we can cross off.”

Louis sighs, still captivated by their son doing absolutely nothing except existing. “Yeah, I know. Too bad it’s at home.”

Harry smiles to himself, thankful he had the presence of mind to grab it before they ran out of the house.  “You mean this old thing?” he asks as he produces the list and a pen from his back pocket. It’s faded and so creased that it’s tearing a little at the edges, but Louis still smiles when he sees it like it’s an old familiar friend.

“You remembered!”

“Of course I did. Someone had to. You were so insane when Sarah called that you probably couldn’t even spell the word list, so I got it right before we left.”

Harry carefully unfolds it and finds the item he’s looking for. He hands the pen to Louis and feels his heart overflowing with pride when he draws a line through their latest achievement.

Louis pulls him in for a long kiss that makes Harry feel even lighter (although he didn’t think it was possible). Louis holds him afterwards to let the moment linger and resonate between them.

“So, we’ve officially started a family. What next?” Louis smirks. “World domination?”

A nap is Harry’s first thought, but then he takes time to read through the list of things they have yet to do. They can go anywhere in the world and do whatever they want. Harry looks through the glass at their beautiful son and realizes that for now, he just wants to be right here.

“I was thinking that maybe we could stick around for a bit? See what trouble we can get into around here with Matthew.”

He’s grateful when Louis grins and takes his hand, proof that he feels the exact same way.

“I was really, really hoping you’d say that.”

The End


“Okay, guys, stay close and let me know if you need any help identifying the plant life. No picking yet!”

There was a chorus of acknowledgement and Raya’s small class of children scattered from the lowest level of Fang. Two warriors from the palace stood guard not far away and Raya nodded to them awkwardly, more concerned with keeping an eye on the kids than making nice with her escorts. Glancing around she noticed how one of the girls had stayed behind, small hands fiddling nervously as she looked up at her new teacher. The princess smiled as warmly as she could, moving to take a knee so they could speak at eye level.

“Do you have a question about the lesson, Tala?”

The dark haired girl seemed to search her eyes for a moment before she whispered, “Can I work with you, Princess Raya?”

“Oh.” Raya blinked in poorly suppressed surprise. In the month she had been working with the students of Fang, none of them had ever seemed particularly clingy, likely because of their village’s reputation as fierce warriors. It had honestly disheartened Raya a bit in the beginning, but now with Tala looking up at her with big, sad eyes she felt put on the spot. “Of course, if you want.”

The two brunettes set out to forage, creeping low to the ground to keep from disturbing any wildlife. The children were meant to be identifying local flora that could be used for tonics and medicine and Tala was at a supreme advantage with the teacher tagging along with her. The girl was quiet and serious and probably Raya’s favorite child in the class so far. She was younger than a lot of the others which made her natural skill for everything taught extremely impressive. Raya liked to think she saw a bit of herself in Tala, but had to admit at some point she saw much more of Namaari. The children of Fang adored her wife and the second princess wondered if the only reason they were so good for her was because they did not want a bad report to find its way back to Namaari. The infrequent times she would visit during lessons was a fascinating display of the young ones all devolving into awestruck chaos before being quickly herded back into shape with a stern look from their future chief.

Raya wasn’t jealous of this fanfare per say, but she longed for the day

anyone

 in Fang would be that excited to see her. As it was, not even her wife showed much of a reaction when she walked into a room. She and Namaari were no longer perfect strangers, but more like cool acquaintances. They still slept in separate rooms and trained on separate fields and basically spent a good chunk of their days trying to avoid each other without making it look like they were avoiding each other. Raya had realized with time that contrary to her first impression, her wife was not actually horribly unlikeable. Servants, warriors, and civilians alike seemed to both admire and respect their princess and in return Namaari treated everyone fairly and as an equal to herself.

Everyone except Raya.

Namaari acted as if Raya simply did not exist and Raya mirrored the treatment in kind, though she wasn’t quite positive which one of them were actually on the receiving and returning ends. The princess from Heart had stubbornly refused to make any efforts to find common ground with her wife even though she just knew her Ba would call her stubborn and pig-headed for her behavior. She wasn’t going out of her way to be cruel, obviously, but she also didn’t attempt to make conversation over the several meals they shared and never visited her room again after the first time. She got news of her spouse through the grapevine and Atitaya who had remained friendly and social after their initial encounter.

“What’s Princess Namaari like?” Tala questioned suddenly, pulling Raya from her musings. She looked over and saw her student squatting beside a bush blooming full of flowers that could be pressed into a syrup that alleviated coughs, but her wide eyes were turned towards her teacher. Raya blinked, mouth working soundlessly for a moment before she moved her gaze away.

“She’s...nice,” she settled on, not sure what a child could possibly want to know about an adult, but not wanting to tarnish her wife’s reputation. “She’s strong and kind and—“

“Everyone knows that,” Tala interrupted, tiny brow furrowed in a way that could only be described as suspicious. Raya stood and started to closely observe nearby tree branches in a ploy to hide her blushing face. “What’s she like when you guys are all alone?”

“W-Well, we’re not alone that often,” the Dragon Gem guardian found herself saying much to her own humiliation, “Princesses are very busy, you know?”

“What about at night when you sleep?” Tala seemed scandalized and the absurdly pregnant pause that followed her next question only caused her to scrutinize the princess harder. “Mother and father sleep together in their own room.”

“The princess and I...Iike our space.”

This explanation gave the little girl pause and Raya tried to quickly formulate an escape route from the conversation. Looking around, she was glad to see the palace warriors were too far away to hear this impromptu interrogation, but she also cursed that an emergency didn’t suddenly pop up that needed the immediate attention of the new princess. The other children were scattered about and didn’t appear to need any help at all with their assignment and so Raya was well and truly trapped. Daring to risk a glance at Tala out of the corner of her eye she noted that the girl no longer looked suspicious, but instead vaguely sad and confused.

“Are you and Princess Namaari...not friends?” Stunned silence. “Is it because you have an estranged marriage?”

Her verbal slip put her young age on display and Raya felt a heavy breath whoosh out of her. She knelt back down, smiling sincerely at her favorite student as she placed a hand over her chest. “The princess and I have an

arranged

 marriage, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t be friends.”

“But you aren’t,” the girl noted matter-of-factly, “Why?”

Raya winced. “I think it’s because I’ve been a little...shy.”

“Why?”

“Well...I’ve been homesick since coming to Fang and I don’t really know if Nama-...the princess would understand.” As she said it, Raya realized it was actually the truth of the matter. She didn’t truly believe Namaari could sympathize with her longing to be back in Heart and so had shut her wife out, all the while telling herself it was

Namaari

who was being cool and distant. Trust her star student to make this clear as day.

“Princess Namaari is very smart,” Tala advised wisely, moving on to another plant as she grew bored with the conversation. “You should talk to her so she can make you feel better.”

 “What are you doing in here?”

Raya hadn't meant to sound quite so harsh, but surprise had gripped her vocal cords tight when she walked into her room and found her wife standing in the middle of it. Namaari glanced over her shoulder casually, drawn away from where she had been quietly observing an old painting Raya kept on her writing desk. It was an official portrait of the chief of Heart and his two ‘daughters’. Raya had spent several lonely nights in Fang gazing at the oil depiction of Ba and Sisu and wished she could fly back to them. She didn’t particularly care to have Namaari studying it so closely, lest she spot the lack of familial resemblance between Raya and her ‘sister’.

The first princess of Fang didn’t show a hint of shame or modesty as she turned fully towards her spouse, a scroll held lightly in her hand. She tossed it to Raya without warning and the other woman caught it on instinct. “A courier brought this for you.”

A letter from Heart!

Raya moved to rip it open to read immediately, but then recalled a former enemy was in the room and froze. She eyed Namaari warily and slipped the scroll into the waistband of her loose fitting pants. “Thank you for delivering it. Was that all?”

Namaari scoffed, “You know since you’ve come, our couriers have had to do twice as much work carrying letters back and forth between you and your family.”

It could only be taken as an accusation and so Raya squared her shoulders defiantly, chin high as she met her wife’s eyes. “What? Am I not allowed to fraternize with my own village anymore?”

“

Fang

 is your village now.”

“

Heart

 will always be my homeland.”

“You could at least have the decency to try and make a place for yourself here instead of running our messengers ragged just to tell your kid sister you miss her.”

“If it’s that much of a problem then why don’t I just go back to Heart?” Raya snapped, teeth bared as the taller woman blanched visibly. “Then your couriers will get plenty of rest since I know

you’ll

 never write.”

It was the first conversation they had had in nearly an entire turn of the moon and it was also their first argument. Namaari’s face was twisted with irritation as she stomped forward into Raya’s space. “Why would you return to Heart? We’re married!”

“Well, I can be married from my village,” Raya responded stubbornly. Her heart was hammering loudly in her chest as Namaari leaned into her face. Brown eyes met and the room suddenly didn’t have enough room for the two of them. The Fang princess looked her wife up and down as if inspecting her and Raya fought back a shiver.

“Is that what you really want?” she challenged, “To ruin the fragile peace our union has created between our homelands?”

“It wouldn’t ruin-“

“Do you even care about my people?”

It was a serious blow to her pride and honor and they both knew it. To say Raya didn’t care for Namaari as her reluctant bride was one thing, but to say she didn’t care about the people of a village she was meant to one day lead was quite another. She sputtered, “Of course I-!

“You don’t take anything about this arrangement seriously,” Namaari interrupted, drawing away from the shorter woman as she heaved a sigh through her nose. She sounded tired and frustrated.

“I take our marriage seriously, Namaari,” Raya defended, but her voice was small as she recalled Tala’s tiny face pinched in disappointment as she accused her teacher of not being friends with her own wife.

”This is our first talk in weeks and you're threatening to abandon the village,” Namaari pointed out, dark eyes slit with irritation as she paced the area between the bed and the door. Raya thought not for the first time that she was just like a cat. “I hardly ever see you!”

“I could say the same thing!”

”Because you avoid me!” The princess’ voice sounded different raised like this; higher and slightly shrill. Raya winced. “In the halls, on the training field; you go out of your way to be everywhere I’m not! Why are you even here if this is how you’re going to act?”

“I just-“

“No one forced you into this marriage, Raya.” Namaari’s voice was back to its usual low grate, her whole body tense as she glared at her partner icily. “I didn’t

ask

for

you

.”

Raya’s breath caught in her throat and she unconsciously backed into the door at the harsh look on the other woman’s face. Namaari was right of course. Even though their marriage had been arranged, Raya had not been forced to accept any type of proposal against her will. The proposal hadn’t even been meant for her, it had been meant for Sisu; Heart’s most preciously guarded secret. When the scroll from Fang had arrived all those months ago it had been with a sincere suggestion from Namaari herself that she would wed the youngest daughter of Chief Benga and form an alliance between Fang and Heart as a sign of good faith for generations to come.

They had all known immediately that there was no way Sisu could marry the princess, her hidden identity as the last dragon making it impossible to trust her in the hands of another village. Still, to refuse would have been an insult too great to ignore and so Raya had volunteered herself in her adopted sister’s place. It was a far greater sign of trust to offer up the next in line for the chieftain than the quirky younger daughter who had not been introduced to society until only a few years prior. And so Raya had left Heart Land, married Namaari, and had been avoiding her ever since.

“It’s not that simple,” the former guardian murmured, fire gone from her form as she shrank under her wife’s gaze.  “You don’t know everything.”

Namaari didn’t respond, just stood there with a hand on her hip and looked down at the shorter woman as she always did. Raya could feel a blush splashing over her cheeks as a heady silence stretched out between them punctuated by the sound of village life filtering in through the windows. Namaari had gone into this hoping for a wife that would help her unite their lands and had gotten Raya instead.

“I’m sorry, but...this has been hard for me and you and I aren’t even

friends

 so...I don’t know what to say.”

The confession lifted a weight off her chest and her next breath wasn’t nearly as ragged as she had expected it to be. Since arriving in Fang Raya had constantly felt like everyone was studying her and judging her, but in that moment she felt as if Namaari was simply looking at her. Like she was seeing her for the first time. The silence continued, but it was less tense, and slowly but surely the sharp lines of Namaari’s face smoothed out and her shoulders slipped down in a non-rigid slope. She didn’t seem as big anymore as she moved around Raya to finally head for the door.

“Don’t miss dinner tonight please,” she said lowly on her way out.

Raya hardly caught an ounce of sleep after her discussion with Namaari, the harsh accusations of the other princess playing over and over again in her head. She didn’t go to dinner. Laying wide awake in her bed, the Dragon Gem guardian had to admit that her wife had made some rather cutting but true observations about their union so far; Raya wasn’t taking it seriously. The fate of the peace between their villages rested on her shoulders and she was letting everyone down with her stubbornness. Which was why she rose with the sun the next day and went in search of the palace kitchens.

She would start this journey to her redemption with the first step.

Even with the day barely started, the grounds of Fang were alight with activity and it wasn’t hard for her to find someone to point her to where their meals were prepared. She had been getting the lay of the land over the last month and felt confident she could find her way back after she’d completed her mission.

The kitchens here were not unlike the ones in Heart; full to the brim with ingredients hunted or gathered from the surrounding land and bustling with people coming and going as they prepared the meals for the day. A heavenly smell was wafting through the air and Raya felt tension slide off her shoulders as she recognized the scent of her favorite soup. With ingredients from every village, it was the perfect combination of flavors and a fitting representation of what Kumandra could be if they all worked together. She made a note to definitely make time to attend lunch and then started searching around for the necessary pieces to make a pot of tea. Her plan, simple though it was, was to offer Namaari a peace offering in the form of a spicy tea that was extremely popular in Heart. Fang seemed to favor green tea and chrysanthemum and Raya had been dying for chai for a while and now she finally had a reason to make it herself. To share with her wife.

The servants were very helpful once she explained what she was looking for. With a familiar ease from spending years in the cooking area, a young boy brought her black tea leaves, milk, spices, and some sugar. He offered to make the pot himself, but Raya dismissed him politely, confident that she could make the tea from memory, but not that she could properly explain the process to someone else. It wasn’t as if she measured every ingredient out carefully every time; it was a sprinkle here and a pinch there until it tasted perfect. That couldn’t be taught in the timeframe she was looking at. Everyone gave her a respectful amount of space as she stood there, taking constant sips of the unfinished brew until it tasted just like Ba used to make. A girl a few years younger than her brought her a tray and some cups and then Raya was ready.

Careful not to drop her precious cargo, the Heart princess wove her way back through the hallways, thankfully only getting turned around once. She kept her pace steady but brisk since she knew Namaari rose early and didn’t want to miss her. Nor did she want the tea to grow cold. The scent of spice wafted into her face from the steam out of the pot and her stomach grumbled enviously. Raya hoped Namaari did in fact feel like sharing with her and straightened her shoulders nervously as she finally found herself outside her wife’s bedroom door. With one more steadying breath and being careful to readjust her tray, Raya knocked firmly on the door and waited. If there was movement within, it was muffled by the thick walls and Raya worried that maybe she had missed her chance. However, as she moved to knock again, the door swung open and there was Namaari dressed and ready for the day while her wife was still in her sleep clothes.

Raya noticed this with a flush of embarrassment as she thrust the tray out towards Namaari, lips pressed into a thin line as the warrior eyed it critically. “A peace offering.”

Her wife’s brow ticked minutely and she leaned forward slightly to sniff at the pot, the spicy scent no doubt foreign to her. Raya told herself the chances that Namaari was double checking that the tea wasn’t poisoned were high, but that she would politely not accuse her of anything. “What is it?”

“Masala chai,” she said, lowering the tray slightly as her arms began to ache under the weight. “I’ve been rude and I wanted to show you I’m sorry. This is a tea we make back ho-...in Heart, and I’d like to share it with you.”

Namaari looked rightfully suspicious for a moment, but she still opened her door wider to permit her wife to enter. Raya heaved a huge breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding; she hadn’t been positive the other woman would let her in. She moved to set the tea tray down on one of the wide window ledges, careful to step over Buwan’s tail swishing back and forth on the ground. The serlot was lounging near the foot of the bed and looked up at Raya with a low purr as she passed. Once the tea was safe, the two women stared at each other awkwardly in the early morning silence.

“Uh...how old are you?” Raya questioned, embarrassed this was something she had not known before. Namaari blinked, guard lowering slightly as she considered the question and Raya got the distinct feeling her wife already knew how old

she

was. Tala had been right to frown so heavily at her the day before.

She answered, “Nineteen.”

“Oh...I’m eighteen so I guess I’ll serve you,” Raya noted haltingly, reaching out to grab one of the empty cups and the pot.

She could feel Namaari’s sharp eyes on the back of her neck as she poured the steaming tea, the heat insulated from her hands by the thick stone of the cup. She passed the spicy drink off to her wife with a quick dip of her head, and then moved to pour her own serving. Namaari waited patiently, not drinking until Raya was ready and then they both stood there sipping in silence. Warmth flooded all through the Heart princess’ body as the familiar flavors spilled over her tongue and down her throat. It tasted like home and if she closed her eyes she could almost pretend she was sitting in her room back in Heart, Sisu flung across her bed lazily and Tuk Tuk peeking in through the window. However, when she opened her eyes she was back in Fang and Namaari was there tasting her tea lightly, eyes soft and unassuming as she hummed.

“This is good,” she noted, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. Buwan jumped up after her, large body acting like a cushion as his mistress leaned back against him. The bed had to have stone underneath because it barely dipped under the massive feline’s weight. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Raya leaned back on the window ledge, reaching to pour herself another cup as she tried to piece together the wording for what she wanted to say next. “Do you...have anything to do today?”

“After breakfast I need to meet with a merchant from Heart to discuss trade deals,” Namaari informed blandly. Her wife nodded.

“Oh...alright then…”

“Did you...want to do something?” Namaari looked as surprised as any adult from Fang was probably capable of looking, brows raised slightly as Raya waved her off hurriedly.

“Not if you're busy!” she insisted. “I’m sure I can find Atitaya once my class dismisses.”

“She’s on a scouting detail in Spine.”

“Oh…”

The other princess watched her wife closely and shared a meaningful look with her cat before standing. Her cup was empty and she passed it back to Raya, a silent request for more. “If you have nothing to do once the children are gone we could...do something together?”

Raya smiled and nodded, moving to silently pour her wife another cup of tea. It was nothing more than a plan to make a plan, but for a married couple who hadn’t truly spoken or spent any quality time together in weeks it felt like progress. The two of them stayed together sipping tea and talking lowly until it was time to attend breakfast. For the first time since arriving in Fang, Raya took the seat that had been set beside Namaari.

Egregiously enormous progress.