[This post is from Cameron’s point of view.]
Cameron listened to the tune of the song Neve sang, his eyes closed as he sat leaning against a tree a little ways below the forge. Neve was bathing the twins nearby, the words to the song lost but the tune achingly familiar—though not so painful that it didn’t bring a wistful smile to his face. It was like a memory from a long-forgotten dream, something that stirred strands buried in his soul. It was idyllic, almost, this moment, her tune melding with birdsong and the faint rustle of the wind through the trees. Further away was the sound of Matt’s hammer in the forge above them, and further still was the sound of arms-training near the walls, by the Wild Hunt’s encampment.
He should have been down there with them, honing his skills with Caliburn, but there would be time enough for that later. Right now, he didn’t want the moment he was living to end—not yet.
It just felt so normal, and feeling that way was far nicer than he cared to admit.
The song stopped and he opened his eyes, twisting to peer around the tree. He watched Neve swaddle Artorius, then lean down to kiss him on the nose. She glanced toward Cameron and smiled.
“Could you hold him while I give Anne her bath?” she asked.
Cameron nodded, standing and stretching before he headed over to take Artorius. His son yawned as Cameron cradled him but didn’t go to sleep—not just yet. He traced a fingertip down the infant’s cheek and smiled.
“What kind of adventures do you think they’ll have?” he asked softly, glancing toward Neve as she lifted Anne free of the Moses basket she’d been sleeping in.
“Oh,” Neve said quietly. “I don’t know, Cam. Hopefully the best kind.”
Cameron chuckled. “The best kind, huh?”
Neve nodded, unswaddling Anne. “Mmhm.”
“The kind where they go out with their friends, don’t get into much trouble, come back safe and sound?”
She laughed. “I didn’t say anything about them not getting much trouble. Getting into trouble—and getting out again—is the best kind of adventure.”
“Really?” He turned to her, brow arching slightly. “That’s the best kind of adventure? How do you figure?”
Neve grinned at him—a warm, wicked grin that he knew by now signaled mischief and much more. “Oh, Cam. The stories I could tell you. The stories I could tell you.”