Chapter Text
BAZ
The first thought that hits me when I get back to our room is that I’m going to kill Simon Snow.
The second thought, following the first so quickly it gives me whiplash, is that I want Simon Snow to be the co-father of my children.
Children that hopefully won’t look like the monstrosity Snow is currently cradling to his chest.
“Congratulations,” I narrowly avoid gagging at the stench. “You didn’t tell me Wellbelove had been with child in my absence.”
Simon scowls at me, “Rude.” He turns his body away slightly, as if shielding the thing from my negativity, but his glare stays on me. “You have to help. Truce!”
“I fail to see how our truce would extend to me getting involved with that ghastly creature,” I say, resisting the urge to sniffle. Or gag. Or both.
“I can’t help you if I’m taking care of Ariel by myself,” he says.
He could just throw her back out the window and into the moat. Why did he have to name her?
“Ariel?” I do my best to look unamused.
Snow juts his chin out, “She wants to be where the people are, Baz.”
I can’t believe I love this idiot.
“Okay,” I say slowly, working out a plan as I go. I guess somewhere between walking into this mess and the Chosen One reciting The Little Mermaid lyrics, I decided to help him. Perhaps I knew I would all along.
“Well, first things first: where did you acquire…” (Do I really have to call it by its name?) “… Ariel?”
Simon shrugs, “Moat. Where else?”
This renews my interest in wanting to kill him.
How has Bunce dealt with walking him through his penchant for disaster? Lists? Hmmm… not a bad idea…
I pull out my wand and Simon flinches.
“Don’t hurt her!”
I roll my eyes, “I won’t.” Does he really think so little of me?
I turn to the wall between our beds, ignoring the pang of hurt in my chest. I guess I did tell him our truce didn’t extend to the little monster.
“And why did you think it was a wise idea to bring her up here?”
Simon fumbles his way through an answer while I begin to write with my wand in the air. Merwolves — What We Know.
“She was shivering, I wanted to warm her up.”
“She was probably shivering because you pulled her out of the water,” I remark. Simon huffs, and the words tremble in the air. I wish I had a regular chalkboard.
“She couldn’t swim!” he says. That gives me pause. What kind of merwolf can’t swim?
It’s enough to convince me to face him again, halfway through adding “atrocious creatures” to the list.
The thing is awfully small. Smaller than Swithin. The fin on one side of her tail is shorter than the other.
I feel the ache in my leg acutely when I look at her.
Fine.
“Come on, Snow. Let’s run a bath for her.”
SIMON
I shift Ariel into the crook of my left arm, making sure her head has enough support, while I lean over to open the tap. Baz watches me with a critical gaze from the doorway.
“Not too hot!” he scolds. As if I don’t know how to run a bath. It’s all hands on deck for the littluns in care.
I shoot him a glare as I nudge the tap a touch colder. Ariel wiggles and whimpers softly. I glance down and bounce her a bit, murmuring softly, “It’s all right, love. We’ll get you sorted soon.” I lift my hand to scritch her softly behind one ear.
Once the bath is filled, I gently place Ariel in the water. It’s deep enough to cover her whole body but shallow enough so she won’t drown. I don’t notice Baz approaching. I’m too busy watching Ariel’s happy splashes to be on guard.
Baz quietly turns off the tap, “Crisis averted.”
“For now…”
He’s so close, I can feel his cool breath ghost over the back of my neck. Crowley, I’m knackered. Diving in the moat and stressing over a baby takes a lot out of you. I lean back, just a little, against Baz. He tenses up, but doesn’t move away or yell at me. He keeps breathing slowly.
“So… What now? Food?”
“Do you think she’ll eat salt and vinegar crisps?” I ask, looking up at him with a grin.
“Or aero bars?” he retorts, but he’s smiling a little bit too.
Embarrassingly, my stomach chooses this moment to gurgle loudly. I can feel the heat rise to my cheeks.
Baz just stares at me, the corner of his mouth still the ghost of a smile, “I should have known better than to bring up food.”
“Ehm… do you think the dining hall is still open? Or, do you still have access to the kitchens?” I peek up at Baz, trying not to look too hopeful. Maybe they have some fish for Ariel. Merwolves eat fish, right? Or maybe scones. For me, obviously. I’d share with her, of course. I’d share with them both.
Baz checks his watch. “It’s after curfew. But I could get us something from the kitchens.”
“I’ll go with you,” I say. Quickly. Too quickly. I’ve already got Ariel out of the bath and wrapped in a towel. Her whole tail wags when I rub behind her ears.
Baz frowns at me. “Who’s going to watch Ariel?”
“We’ll bring her.”
He frowns more. “You should wait with her here.”
And I should. But I can’t shake the feeling that if I let Baz leave, he’s not coming back. That he’ll spend the night with Dev or Niall or in the catacombs just so he doesn’t have to help. And I need his help. I need him here.
“We don’t know what she likes to eat,” I say, instead of all that. “She’ll help us pick out her dinner.”
Baz rolls his eyes, but he holds the door open for us. “Don’t get us caught.”
Everything is dark and cold, and I can’t hide my sigh of relief when Baz closes the kitchens door behind us and spells on the lights.
It’s weird to be here during the night, the whole room is unnaturally silent and clean. I shiver, and hold Ariel closer to my chest. I think she’s asleep.
Baz moves around the room swiftly, piling on a tray a couple of plastic containers and a bottle of what I hope is milk. My stomach growls again, and yet I don’t think I could eat anything right now. There’s a weight lodged somewhere in my chest, and not even Ariel’s warmth is helping. Not even her quiet breaths that reassure me that she’s safe. With us.
(I think she would’ve drowned, earlier, if I hadn’t seen her and dived for her. I don’t know if it’s some weird connection between people who have no one to take care of them — well, I have Penny; I believed I had the Mage, too, sometimes — but I’m pretty sure she’s all alone. No one will teach her to swim. To survive out in the world.)
(Well, she doesn’t have to be alone anymore. She has me.) (Baz, too, maybe. If he doesn’t kill me when I ask him to share his bathtub with our baby for the rest of the year.)
(He wouldn’t kill me, right? Then he’d have to take care of Ariel all by himself.) (He could do it. I know he could.)
(But he doesn’t have to. I’m here for him, too. To keep him safe. To…)
I don’t realise that Baz has gotten so close until he snaps his fingers in front of my face.
“Snow?” he frowns. The tray is floating next to his shoulder, and his eyes are focused on me.
I clear my throat. The weight on my stomach seems to have turned into a cloud of sand. “Sorry,” I say. Baz’s frown doesn’t smoothen. “Did you get something for her, too?”
“Of course.” He rolls his eyes, but his voice is soft. Quiet. He glances at Ariel’s sleeping form. “Though it doesn’t look like she’s going to eat us anytime soon.”
I look down at her, too. “She wouldn’t. I think she considers us her parents, now.”
Baz’s eyebrows shoot high on his forehead. He rarely uses both, and the drama of it all makes me chuckle.
“Her parents?”
I nod. There’s something in Baz’s expression that melts the knot in my throat. “Yes,” I whisper. “If you want.”
“Simon…” he says.
And then I kiss him.
Baz makes a quiet sound of surprise, and for a moment I consider pulling back, but then his arm comes up around my waist, tugging me closer, though I’m mindful not to squish Ariel between us. I cup his cheek. He’s so cold, but he warms under my touch, leaning into my hand. I don’t want to part, but after a long moment, I need to come up for air. Baz gasps a little as I pull away, and my chest aches with the need to get more of these soft sounds out of him.
“Parents,” he says reverently, eyes wide and pupils blown.
“I think it’s time we get our little one to bed,” I say gently. Baz nods, but doesn’t move, so I lead the way out of the kitchen and back towards Mummer’s House. Halfway across the lawn, he takes my hand.
I’m worried about leaving Ariel in the bath all night in case she drowns, but her tail can’t get too dry. Baz wets a flannel and wraps it around her tail.
“That’s dead clever,” I say.
“It’s common sense,” he responds, but there’s no bite to his words and I can tell he’s preening a little at the praise. He spells the sink squishy and places her in it. It’s the perfect size, a little merwolf bassinet.
“So…” Now that everything is taken care of, Baz looks around helplessly. “Does this make us…” He trails off.
“Boyfriends?” I finish his sentence for him. He bites his lip and nods. “Well, I kissed you, didn’t I?”
“Shut up, Snow. I’ve never done this before.”
“You called me Simon before.”
“Shut up, Simon.”
I grin.
We sleep on the bathroom floor that night. I bring in blankets and pillows, and Baz casts nice and cozy. It’s quite peaceful, really. Ariel occasionally makes little yipping noises, and I like to think she’s chasing fish in her dreams. Baz curls into me, and I wrap my arms around him. It’s good to have them both close to me, to hear their sleeping breaths and know they’re safe. That none of us are alone, anymore. We’re a family.