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The sun is bright (which Neuvillette doesn’t appreciate), the water is warm (which he does), and Nadine is screaming with absolute delight as she slides out of his grasp and goes careening toward the water. He turns his eyes to the heavens, briefly wondering how his three-year-old daughter always manages to be slick and sticky at the same time, and then sends a brief glare in Wriothesley’s direction.
“Not my fault,” Wriothesley says, hefting baby Rainier in his arms. Rainier, just barely eight months, sucks furiously and anxiously on Wriothesley’s collar.
“At least half of that is your fault, and she takes entirely after you.” Neuvillette sets down his beach bag, leaving Wriothesley and Rainier to set up their spot on the otherwise empty strip of sand, and chases after their daughter.
Nadine, her black hair and silvery rhinophores streaming behind her, runs as manically as a toddler can through the surf. She takes mighty steps, splashing the water as much as she possibly can and soaking the hem of her dress.
Knowing the damage is already done, when Neuvillette reaches her, he strips the dress over her head in a single motion. With a shriek of utter delight, she dives into the water, transforming as she goes.
Her dragon form is as svelte and lithe as Neuvillette’s own, long and slender with sweeping cerulean fins. But where he is iridescent, pearly white, she is as midnight black as her hair. Sighing, Neuvillette watches her weave through the surf just below the surface, her fins cutting curling lines through the water. She can swim better than she can walk, so he is not overly concerned, and the current at this secluded beach is easy and the waves gentle. She is safe enough.
She breaks the water in an elegant breach, trumpeting her pleasure, and then crashes back into the water, vanishing beneath the surface.
Neuvillette turns back to Wriothesley, walking up the beach with Nadine’s dress in hand, amusement curling his lips. “She is your daughter.”
“I’m not the one who laid her egg,” Wriothesley is quick to reply. He’s already stripped off his clothing, revealing his expansive chest and swim trunks of charcoal gray, and laid out two large towels side by side. He sits on the edge of one, his legs bent and loosely crossed at the ankle to give Rainier a safe corral in which to play. Rainier, with Wriothesley’s brilliantly blue eyes and Neuvillette’s silvery hair and blue rhinophores, sits on the sand in nothing more than a diaper with a wide-eyed expression, as if he doesn’t know what to make of it. His fat little hands pat the sand. His feet kick. Abruptly, he begins cooing with delight, his rhinophores glowing.
Behind them, Nadine squeals and splashes in the water.
“That is all you,” Neuvillette says flatly.
A grin pulls across Wriothesley’s face. “You love it.”
“I love her,” Neuvillette corrects. He shrugs out of his clothing, stripping down to his swimsuit as well, and eases onto his knees beside Wriothesley.
In silence, they watch Rainier grab at the sand and marvel when it falls between his fingers. He coos with delight, kicking his feet even more—and then brings his sandy hand to his mouth.
“Ah-ah,” Wriothesley says, quickly ducking in to catch Rainier’s hand. “We don’t eat sand, baby boy.” He nods to one of their bags. “Can you grab his pacifier?”
Neuvillette reaches into the baby bag and pulls out a blue pacifier, pressing it gently between Rainier’s lips. Rainier suckles it eagerly as he claps his hands together and showers himself in sand.
Beyond, Nadine continues to throw herself out of the water and splash back into it. She is a delight, Neuvillette thinks. Far more energetic than he will ever be, yes, but a delight nonetheless.
A small, tender smile pulls across his face. “We should try to put Rainier in the water,” he says.
Wriothesley grimaces. “You really want that bad of a day?”
“We must try. He hasn’t changed form in months.” Indeed, two months after Rainier hatched, he and Nadine got into a “fight,” if a toddler can fight with a baby. She, jealous of the attention he received from their fathers, had pulled his rhinophores until he screamed, nearly dragging him off the couch before Wriothesley and Neuvillette had been able to separate them. Rainier immediately turned from hatchling to human baby and, since, has refused to turn back.
That’s why they’ve come to the beach: Neuvillette holds out hope that contact with the waters of Fontaine—not just what comes out of their tap—will convince him to take on his draconic form.
Contact with water generally, however…
“They’re your arms,” Wriothesley says, rubbing his hands down the red scratches that cut across his own arms.
“We must overcome this with him. He is a Hydro Dragon,” Neuvillette says. “His aversion to water, too, must be tackled.”
Rainier, as though aware his fathers are talking about him, flops to one side in a bid for attention, bracing himself against Wriothesley’s legs. He wriggles in the sand, seeking purchase with his knees, before Wriothesley scoops him up under his arms.
“You want to work on that now?” Wriothesley asks.
Neuvillette nods. “I will take him. I heal much faster than you.” He holds out his hands, accepting Rainier from Wriothesley, and, together, they make their way toward the surf.
As they approach, Rainier wriggles in Neuvillette’s arms. Though he remains in his human form, he warbles softly, unhappily. His pacifier slips from his mouth, and Neuvillette catches it, sliding it into his pocket. Rainier’s struggles increase as Neuvillette steps into the water, and the hatchling lets out a loud wail when water splashes against him.
At the sound of her brother’s cry, Nadine bursts out of the water. She prances around Neuvillette and Wriothesley in the surf, splashing them even more. Fat droplets of water splatter against Neuvillette’s hips and chest—and against Rainier.
Rainier lets out an ear-piercing wail of distress. He rakes little claws down Neuvillette’s shoulders and chest, peeling skin, and the water around Neuvillette’s ankles swirls in a sudden and vicious torrent.
Before Nadine can be swept away from the shore, Wriothesley plucks her from the water around her middle. She wriggles wildly, braying with frustration. “Bad Rain!” she exclaims, little legs windmilling. “Bad Rain, bad water! Stupid baby.” She sticks out a long, draconic tongue—which would be comical if Neuvillette and Wriothesley weren’t exchanging aggrieved looks.
“Sigewinne,” Wriothesley says.
“Sigewinne,” Neuvillette sighs.
Every time they leave Nadine alone with Sigewinne, even for the briefest of moments, they find her trying to teach the toddler a bad word. Sigewinne thinks it’s hilarious. Neuvillette disagrees, and Wriothesley, well. Neuvillette caught Wriothesley encouraging Sigewinne on at least one occasion. He is not entirely blameless.
Wriothesley tosses the draconic toddler in the air, catching her under her forelegs as she spins to face him. “Mademoiselle Nadine,” he says sternly. “What have we said about mean words?”
She wiggles, her tail lashing back and forth. “I love Rain,” she declares, wiggling until Wriothesley loses his grip and she splashes back into the water only to zip off.
“I’ll chase her down,” Wriothesley says, wading deeper into the water.
Neuvillette watches Wriothesley go. With a small shake of his head, he turns to Rainier, who, nestled in the crook of his papa’s arm, watches Neuvillette with wide eyes. “My good sir,” Neuvillette says to the baby. “It is time we work on your association with water. You are a Hydro Dragon, darling boy, and are thus possessed of a mastery over water that you must understand. You cannot possibly understand it if you fear it.” As he speaks, Neuvillette lowers himself into the water.
The closer they get to the water, the increasingly tense Rainier becomes. His nose scrunches up. He balls his hands into fists and kicks out with his tiny feet, parting his lips to let out a furious (or perhaps terrified) yowl.
Neuvillette stills. Knees bent, hovering over the water and sinking just a little into the sand, he peers down at his baby. His little hatchling, face twisted with misery.
“Oh, my darling,” he says with a sigh, and he kneels the rest of the way down all at once, doing his best to ignore Rainier’s shriek. Anguish spikes through Neuvillette’s heart. Of course he doesn’t want to distress his son. How could he ever want to cause Rainier—or Nadine—any kind of pain? No, he wants nothing more than to shield them both from all unpleasant and awful things. “But we must face adversity in our lives,” he says to Rainier, holding him well away from the water as he sits in the surf.
Waves wash over him, lapping at his hips and his waist.
Rainier flails. One hand rakes sharp claws across Neuvillette’s chest. Rainier won’t assume his draconic form, but he has no qualms about using his claws. Or his teeth.
Purring deep in his chest in an attempt to soothe his irate child, Neuvillette rocks back and forth and turns his gaze toward Wriothesley.
Wriothesley splashes in the surf, chasing after Nadine. Nadine leaps from the water in graceful arcs, using her tailfins to flick water directly into Wriothesley’s face. He sputters and swipes at his eyes. Nadine disappears once more beneath the water.
“Don’t you want to play with your sister?” Neuvillette asks Rainier, rocking gently from side to side, soothing as the waves themselves. “We could all swim together, exploring the waters that are your birthright.” It is his dream to explore the depths of Fontaine’s waters with his children at his side, all of them in their draconic forms. Where once, he was solitary and alone, he has found the warm embrace of family. There are wonders in the world he wishes to share with his family. “You are a master of wave and current, my Rainier.” He lifts one hand and smooths his thumb over Rainier’s soft, full cheek. “The moisture in the air will one day bend to your will. What need have you to fear the waves, hm?”
Rainier’s mewling cries ease into soft, snuffling warbles as Neuvillette speaks, and Neuvillette smiles broadly, warmly at his hatchling. “There, now,” he says gently. “You see? There is nothing to fear.” He dips his fingers into the water and lifts them to Rainier’s face.
Recoiling, the hatchling yowls his distress. He arches his back dramatically, but Neuvillette is well accustomed to this. Though Rainier is dramatic in his distaste for water, yes, he has nothing on Nadine, who would twist so violently to escape the milk they fed her in her human form that Neuvillette dropped her.
Twice.
He manages Rainier easily, cradling him close and withdrawing his hand.
With a heavy sigh, he regards his hatchling. “Nothing can hurt you while I’m here. Papa will keep you safe from all the evils of the world. And how could the water hurt you, hm? You are the water, the rushing currents, the waves that lap against the shores. When you inhale, the surf recedes, and when you exhale, it washes over the sand, does it not?”
Rainier squints up at him. Shoves a little fist into his little mouth. Gums at his fingers.
Neuvillette extricates those fingers before he can accidentally claw himself. “Look,” he says, shifting his hold on Rainier, tipping him forward so that he can see the waters.
With a gesture, Neuvillette lifts globes of water from the sea. He shapes them into Rainier’s favorite animals—bunnies and puppies and kittens—and sets them to frolicking about.
Rainier wails, twisting into Neuvillette’s chest.
Immediately, Neuvillette lets the animals collapse back into the water, curling over Rainier. “Hush, hush, my darling droplet, my sweetest one.” He croons wordless reassurances, rumbling deep in his chest, rocking back and forth until Rainier’s tears cease.
When he looks up, he finds Nadine standing before him in her human form. She holds out a fist. “Guess what I have, Papa!”
Neuvillette glances over her shoulder to Wriothesley, who shrugs. Returning his attention to his daughter with an indulgent smile, he shakes his head. “I haven’t the slightest, sweetheart. Why don’t you show me?”
“No, Papa! Guess!” She stomps one foot, splashing water over him and Rainier.
Rainier lets out an indignant howl, flailing in Neuvillette’s arms.
Patting the baby to soothe him, Neuvillette leans forward. “Do you have… a little fishie in your hands?” he asks.
Nadine shrieks with laughter. “No! Papa is silly! I can’t hold fishes. Guess!”
Neuvillette’s smile grows. “What about… a lumitoile?”
“Too big!”
“What about… a message in a bottle?”
“No! Papa can’t guess,” Nadine says, giggling and very impressed with herself. She opens her fist, revealing a seashell of shimmering, soft pink and vibrant lavender, sparkling in the afternoon sunlight. “Look, look! It’s so pretty, Papa.”
As Neuvillette leans closer to make sure the shell, which twists around itself in an elegant spiral, doesn’t contain a living creature, Rainier coos with interest. He leans forward in Neuvillette’s arms, reaching for the shell.
“No! Bad baby,” Nadine snaps, leaping back.
Neuvillette wraps a hand around Rainier’s middle, holding him steady, and watches with no small amount of awe as Rainier continues reaching for the shell. He babbles, grasping with his hands, heedless of the water he dangles over.
“Nadine,” Neuvillette says, careful to keep his tone bright and inviting. “Why don’t you let your brother see—”
“No!” She hops back again. “My shell!”
Rainier strains more, grunting. He grabs at the shell that is far out of his reach with a shrill, happy scream.
Behind Nadine, Wriothesley sets his hand on her shoulder. “Nadie, we’ve talked about the importance of sharing,” he reminds her.
Nadine holds the shell out to one side, trying to keep it away from both Rainier and Wriothesley. “Mine!” she says again, utterly emphatic, taking another step back and to the side.
And Rainier, quite abruptly, is no longer in Neuvillette’s arms.
He hits the surface of the water with a plop. Neuvillette reacts immediately, plunging his hands into the water, but his son is slippery and sleek and no longer a rotund baby with a bit too much fat. No, he’s transformed into a form of vibrant cerulean streaked with white, and he propels himself easily through the water, circling Nadine once before climbing her body.
She screams and laughs. “No! Bad baby!” she exclaims, and then she, too, is abruptly a dragon, the shell plopping into the water, forgotten. The two of them chase each other beneath the surface, going round and round Neuvillette and Wriothesley in sweeping circles.
“Well,” Wriothesley says, watching them with an amused eyebrow lifted. “That’s one way to get Rainier to transform.”
Neuvillette, hunched over with his hands still dipped into the water, heaves a sigh. He rises, lifting one hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “And here I thought we’d have to work at this for months.”
Rainier darts around his legs, weaving between them with the natural grace of a Hydro Dragon, pursued by his sister. Nadine seems to understand that Rainier, considerably smaller than her, is not as fast. She gives him plenty of opportunities to dart away from her. When she nips his tail, she slows down, and he zips away only for her to pursue.
“All we needed was one pretty shell that Nadine wouldn’t share,” Wriothesley says with a laugh. He makes his way through the water carefully, watching his feet to avoid the hatchlings, and joins Neuvillette in the surf.
Draping an arm around Neuvillette’s shoulder, Wriothesley draws him close. “You were right,” he says, pressing a kiss to Neuvillette’s temple. “That we should have a beach day.”
A smug smile curves Neuvillette’s lips. “Perhaps don’t say that yet. We’ve only just arrived, and—”
And Nadine bursts from the water, her brother’s smaller, draconic body in her jaws. She breaches, arched like a graceful dancer, and then crashes back into the water.
Neuvillette exhales heavily. “As I said. She is your daughter.”
This time, Wriothesley doesn’t disagree with him.