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Child rearing isn't unknown to him, he's had his fair share of taking care of children from survivor caravans whilst on missions—Phainon thinks of them as his own siblings, even. Though he wasn't sure when this development happened.
It started months ago when a group of women whom he rescued with Mydei has asked for their assistance with the younger children.
Phainon had held the baby that he was given for hours.
Back to the present, during the Weaving Month; the ninth month—when Ascent Hours had just started and he was about to do his round of patrol in the marketplace before a group of children came running to him.
Gaggles of “Mr Phainon!” “Lord Phainon!” “Uncle Snowy!” made him laugh as he crouched to their eye level, smiling at them in question.
“Hello everyone, what's got you all excited?”
One of the children, a girl with the cutest pigtails, tugged on his hand, “Are you busy?”
“Can you play with us? Let's play Dragons and Princesses!” One of the boys interrupted her, tugging on his cloak.
Another boy in the group scolded him, “Hey, she was supposed to ask!”
“It's the same thing, isn't it?”
“Nuh-uh!”
“Yuh-uh!”
“Now, now…” Phainon diffused the situation before a fight could break out in the middle of the market.
He laughed at the sight of the children pouting at him, really trying to convince him to drop his duties to play with them. Don't get Phainon wrong, he'd love to! Spending time with the children was always enjoyable and their laughter kept much of his darker thoughts away.
But… he's not quite sure that Aglaea would approve of him skipping his duties. They were already in hot water with the Council Elders.
“I'm sorry, kids…” He tried to break the news to them as gently as possible, “I don't think Lady Aglaea would like it if I neglect my chores.”
Instantly, their expressions dropped and it felt like he'd just killed their favourite Droma.
“Oh... okay…”
The little girl let go of him and part of him wilted at her sad tone.
“Actually, Lord Phainon, I have a message for you from Lady Aglaea.”
The sudden arrival of a different voice made him jump, head turned towards the source only to see Castorice standing at a relative distance, smiling at him.
“Castorice! You nearly gave me a heart attack, by Kephale's light…”
She looked apologetic but there's amusement in her eyes, he could see it, which caused him to smile back at her.
“Apologies, Lord Phainon. I didn't mean to.”
“No harm done, Cas… A message from Aglaea, you say?”
At this, her smile widened and the Deliverer thought that she looked beautiful, wishing that she'd be blessed with never ending joy.
“Yes, she said that you're excused from today's patrol. She's assigned another guard for your route.”
Phainon raised a brow, “All of a sudden?”
Though Castorice simply shrugged her shoulders and waved goodbye to the children as she bowed slightly before disappearing amongst the crowd.
“Does this mean we can play?!”
The little girl tugs at his hand once more. Well, since his schedule is free now, he nodded at her question. Once he stood back up, he allowed the children to pull him towards wherever they pleased. Laughter rang through the market as a glimpse of white and blue zoomed by the stalls with small pitter patters around him.
They would be heard all throughout Okhema as the children tugs and pulls the Deliverer along, laughing and giggling with him as they narrowly avoid passersby.
“Oh my..!” A woman gasps as he barely ducks under her to avoid the basket of fruits she’s holding, “Lord Phainon?!”
“Apologies! Please don’t mind us—Woah!”
As Entry Hour begins to bleed into Ascent Hour, laughter finds itself around Okhema as a man in blue follows along, smiling without a care in the world. All of the weight of the world falling off his shoulders as he indulges in the children’s requests just for today.
Phainon’s not quite sure how long he entertains the children or how much time has passed but he's enjoying himself just fine.
The Garden of Life feels brighter with the presence of youthful innocence and despite the flower crown on his head, it doesn't feel like a burden; not like the weight he carries.
It's almost surreal to see him being surrounded by a whole group of children who didn't care for his titles and his status.
“Mr Phainon, why is your hair white?”
“Well, I got it from my mother.”
“Lord Phainon can we see your sword?”
“Uhm, I don't think your parents would approve—”
“Do you like Uncle De, Uncle Snowy?”
He chokes on his breathing, coughing up a storm as his cheeks flush red with embarrassment. The children all crowd around him, falling silent and the unanswered question with the brown eyes of the child who asked staring at him with laser focus.
Oh dear.
No one bothers to help him, not as he stumbles and stammers out a response, eyes blinking and flickering.
His hands are flailing around in an effort to distract the children.
It's a funny sight.
At least, the Crown Prince of Kremnos thinks so.
From his hiding spot behind a pillar, he watches with amusement as his Deliverer scrambles for an answer. He's cute, Mydei hums to himself. The panic, the thinly veiled ‘yes’ in his eyes and the soft light of Kephale’s divinity behind him—like an angel blessed by the Titan.
He is an angel, perhaps even a princess, the Prince concludes.
And every princess needs a prince.
So he leaves his little hidden nook, taking slow steps towards his joy and heart to fully take in the heavenly visage in front of him.
“It's good to see the Deliverer stumbling over his words for once. Can't even answer a simple question, saviour?”
Blue eyes snap towards him, widening at his presence.
“Mydei…?” Spoken with such… fondness. A soft touch that none will ever be able to recreate.
“It's me.”
“It's the Prince!”
“Lord Mydei!”
“Uncle De…”
The Kremnoan Prince walks forward to join them on the grass, outstretching his hands to pick up one of the children who wanted ‘uppies’ to place in his lap. Sitting on the grass, he joins their group; his gaze scans over the group, smiling mutely once he’s satisfied that everyone seems to be in good health.
Now, back to the question at hand.
“Don’t be distracted by my presence, Deliverer,” Phainon curses the handsome smirk on his face, “The children asked you a question, aren’t you going to answer them?”
The red on his cheeks is prominent over his pale skin. Mydei thinks he’s beautiful even without it. But now, his rival is clearly trying to avoid his and the children’s gaze as his fingers fidget at the hem on his coat, his mouth curling into an embarrassed lift.
“O-Of course I like Mydei. We’re comrades!”
Those words sound like heaven to his ears.
But they aren’t what the children want to hear.
“Yeah but do you like like Uncle De? Like how my Mama likes my Papa!”
Phainon makes another choking sound, hiding his face in his hands with pure shame as the children skip and run around him, looking forward to his answer. Imagine that, a grown man being teased and surrounded by children as they ask him if he likes another man.
Fondness makes itself home in Mydei’s eyes as he stares at the domesticity of it all.
Leaning back, he relishes in the quiet panic that Phainon is feeling and watches as the children continue to badger him for an answer before he finally takes pity on him.
“Alright, that’s enough. Leave the Deliverer alone or else he’ll burst into flames.”
Echoes of ‘aws’ and ‘noooos’ resound throughout the garden as Mydei beckons them all closer to him (and a bit further from Phainon to save him from the misery), “Enough of that,” He scolds them gently, “If you keep pestering him, you won’t have enough time to play. Isn’t that why you dragged him here?”
“That’s right! We wanted to play Dragons and Princesses!”
The Kremnoan raises a brow at the name.
“Is Phainon the Dragon?” He pointedly ignores how Phainon nearly swooned at the use of his actual name by the Prince.
“We wanted him to be the Princess!”
Nevermind, he makes another choking noise at the revelation.
“I wasn’t aware of that!” His Deliverer squeaks from behind the children, finally inserting himself into the conversation.
“Of course you’d be the Princess, Uncle Phainon!” One of the girls giggled at his shocked expression, “You’re the prettiest person we know!”
Oh, how Mydei loves seeing the colour red spreading brighter across Phainon’s skin. He wants to drape him in his colours and show the world that he belongs to him alone.
Alas, Mydei chooses to steer the conversation away from him again, else he wants the saviour to faint from all the blood rushing to his face.
“Are you all the dragons, then?”
“Yep!” A gaggle of children pretending to be mini-dragons as Phainon plays a princess; oh, the thought amuses him greatly.
He chuckles, allowing the children to lean against his shoulders and play with his hair idly, “Who's going to defend the princess from the dragon?”
“Lord Phainon doesn't need a defender, he's a strong princess!”
Excited nods and gasps share the sentiment. Mydei glances at Phainon with a humoured smile, he won't get to play the prince this time but maybe next time.
“Actually…,” A soft voice from the girl in his lap stops the commotion, “I want… Uncle Snowy to have a prince… Is that okay?” Something in Mydei crumbles at the hesitancy in her voice, he recognises the girl.
She's one of the children they recently saved from an ambushed caravan. Unfortunately, she was the only survivor of her family.
The Kremnoan remembers Phainon cradling her in his arms, hugging her tightly as he fights his own tears away.
It's good to see that she's been making friends, his mouth opening to respond but the children beat him to it.
“Of course!”
“That's okay with us!”
“Do you want to be the Prince?”
Oh.
The Chrysos Heirs melt when they hear the other children reassure her. Even in these dark times, the innocence of children remains intact and unblemished despite how tragedy has struck. Mydei only now sees that this group of children had Kremnoans, Okhemans, Aidonians and many others.
A melting pot of cultures united by the urge to play Dragons and Princesses.
Joy nestles in his throat. Like a dragon guarding its nest.
When he meets Phainon's eyes, their gazes soften in mutual understanding. This is why the fight for Amphoreus, why the Flame Chase journey, is in dire need.
And if playing Dragons and Princesses is needed for this journey then he’d indulge himself in the simple joys that life had to offer.
“Uhm…” The girl’s voice snaps Mydei back to reality, head tilted down to look at her as she tilts her own to look at him, “Is it… okay if Uncle De becomes the Prince?”
He blinks.
Ears picking up the sounds of the children murmuring ‘Hmm, he is a Prince’, ‘It would fit’ and ‘I don't think we can defeat him if he was the Dragon'—all of which nearly caused him to laugh.
But he does smile down at the girl in his lap.
“I’d be honoured if I'm given the chance.”
She lights up and the world feels less like a warzone and more like a playground.
Across him, Phainon shares his sentiments. The image of the children running around in joy, finding themselves all over Mydei and himself as if they were obstacles to conquer, he hopes—no, he'll ensure—that the children know no more pain.
“Well, princess,” An outstretched hand enters his view, he's not sure when Mydei had stood up, “Let’s not keep the dragons waiting, shall we?”
Phainon stares at him for a beat, noting how Kephale's light hugs him in a soft glow, making him look like the picture perfect image of Prince Charming. But he's not.
As Phainon takes his hand to stand, he takes the chance to lean in, placing a soft kiss on the Kremnoan's cheek.
“Wha—Deliverer, there are children around!”
Not Prince Charming but this man is his prince, regardless.
By the end of their 5-hour long play session with the children, they all but collapsed in exhaustion in the middle of the garden. Their 10-day duel was exhausting but pretending to defend a princess against a group of mini-dragons was just as tiring in Mydei's mind.
“We're here to kidnap the Princess, raahh!”
“Hand him over!”
“Shouldn't we make a pyramid to look taller?”
Phainon didn't help, giggling a storm behind him, taking shelter behind Mydei's form (he can clearly feel the Deliverer’s eyes on his back muscles.)
“Oh, don't take me away, mighty dragons!”
“Stand down, dragons,” He bellows out, “You'll never take the Princess from me.”
Instantly the mini dragons charged and the undying Mydeimos found himself overwhelmed by the sheer number.
Truthfully, they're no match for him but to deny them small victories would make him a monster.
“Oh no, my Prince! How could you possibly be this weak?”
However, beating Phainon in their little bet of who can last the longest while keeping the children distracted and entertained, is worth the hit he takes to his image. He'll show that man weak, alright; Little shit—
—One thing leads to another and both Chrysos Heirs find themselves on their backs, sprawled on the soft grass of the garden as they’re surrounded by sleeping children. Mydei has his left arm facing outwards in a straightened position, acting as Phainon’s headrest as the Elysian hums a soft Okheman melody to soothe the children’s nap.
His hand is rhythmically patting one children’s back, scooting a bit closer to the Kremnoan, tilting his head to the side to smile at his lover.
“Hi,” Soft spoken words said in the tranquility between them, “How are you?”
“Good. Are you tired?” Mydei leans forward to place a kiss on Phainon’s forehead before nuzzling into the crown of his head, smiling into the white strands of hair.
His Deliverer quietly nods, eyes drooping with drowsiness—the aftermath of having to entertain an active group of children for 5 hours has finally caught up with him. Blue eyes shut close as Mydei moves closer, being careful of the children, as he tucks Phainon’s head into the crook of his neck.
“You’re going to wake ‘em…” He mumbles sleepily, the tension leaving his shoulders.
“I’m not,” The feeling of metal brushing against his temple pulls his body deeper into slumber.
“Mmhn… Love you, Mydeimos…”
Lips press themselves against his eyelids, moving gently against his skin as he hears the words spoken to him, “And I, you. Sleep well, my dawn,” Spoken with nothing less of love and affection.
Hours would pass again before Castorice would inevitably find them, still, napping with the children in the garden. Word travels fast and before they know it, all of Okhema is talking about how the ‘Deliverer and the Kremnoan Prince have found themselves childrearing as practice for their own.’
An outrageous claim, Castroice knows. But as she memorises the sight of two of their strongest Chrysos Heirs in peaceful sleep in front of her, she simply can’t help herself.
A hand reaches for her camera as she takes a few pictures, with and without the flash, in quick succession before they would wake.
She makes several copies of these photos. One for her photo album, one for Agalaea and, shockingly, one for both Mydei and Phainon, each. The woman remembers seeing Phainon’s affectionate smile as he thanked her and the way Mydei’s eyes soften as he takes the photo, tucking it safely in his outfit before nodding his thanks toward her.
For now, they lay asleep amidst the children with matching smiles on their faces and flower rings on their fingers.
For now, the war has yet to break this illusion.
When the children would, as all things, wake and whine about the hunger in their bellies, Phainon would nudge Mydei awake with a kiss to his cheek, just like before. Together they'd corral the children with them towards their shared abode, filling a space fit for two with the sounds of loud and happy laughter as Mydei teaches them how to make honeycakes while Phainon ensures they're clean from any dirt.
They'd share a look (and a kiss here and there) once Phainon slots himself into Mydei's side, smiling at one another as a similar feeling begins to pool at the bottom of their stomach.
One day, after the war ends and the prophecy is fulfilled, this would become a daily occurrence with their own children instead. Perhaps with a girl, who has Phainon's hair and Mydei's eyes, and a boy, carrying Mydei's strawberry blond hair and Phainon's eyes instead.
"One for each of us," The Deliverer jokes, prompting the Prince to shake his head in disbelief but he didn't disagree with him. Another kiss is shared, this time it's followed with the 'boos' and 'bleurghs!' from the children.
Phainon sends a prayer to Kephale, for better and brighter days ahead.
They're close to finding Nikador. Once he undergoes the trial of Strife, surely all would be fine. Right?
