Monika

It's few and far between, but sometimes I find myself on the other side of Slade's discipline. He's a stern husband of course, with high expectations for how he treats me, how the world treats me. I sit at the edge of the bed, in quiet reflection.

He stands in front of me, his arms closed. "Now when I tell you I'll do something I expect you to what?"

This is a misunderstanding. I asked him to get me food and then went and got myself and apparently, I've done that twice, and he's now concerned I don't believe in him. It's really not that deep. But he's a god, after all his pride is important to him.

I lay on my hands and allow his lecturing.

"Sit down and let you handle it," I intone.

"Exactly! You don't have to ask again, you don't have to do it yourself or follow up because I'm going to do it because I am your husband. Okay?"

I nod and look at our son, who sits as usual on his shoulders, resting his little head on Slade's. It makes it hard for me to take him seriously. But apparently, it's tradition, all of his children have lived the first of their lives on the shoulders of a god. Zephyr rests his chubby hands on his father's head and looks at me.

I smile.

"Do not entertain yourself with the baby," he chastises me, grabbing my face. I grin and he turns to putty, melting in my hands. "Fine," he grunts.

I get into my tippy toes and kiss his cheek. Then his neck. And then our son's head. He giggles, and reached for me, jumping from his father's shoulders. My heart leaps out of my chest, as I hurriedly craft vines to catch him. His father's hand cups the vines I've created, providing a sturdy barrier.

Zephyr balls his hands and giggles wildly. He looks about two years old, though it's been about 5 since he was born. Slade assures me that the growth of gods isn't as linear as humans and that he'll be a child longer because his life span is longer.

I've just grown to enjoy him being small. I get to cherish much longer than other mothers, and I don't mind it. Slade sighs.

"I've told you not to do that," he frowns down at our son, lifting him in the air and back on his shoulder. Zephyr kicks his feet happily but of course, he'll do it again. Because he knows we'll catch him. Slade often says it may turn him soft, and it'll do his skull some good to hit the ground once in a while. But I make sure I let his head hit the ground and then he changes his tune.

I consider it a coincidence.

Slade kisses my head and sets our son down who quickly takes to the halls, no doubt to wreak havoc on some unsuspecting member of the family. Slade allows him with his blessing. I follow behind him carefully, as he bumbles along the marble floors. His chubby little legs jiggle as he patters across the floors.

He stops stumbling backward. I make a leaf to catch him, shaking my head. Such a reckless baby. He looks up at the family portrait. I float on one end, and Slade stands tall in his armor on the other. The kids line up from eldest to youngest between us, with Zephyr sitting in the middle with a joyful grin.

Zeph leans back on the large leaf and yawns, babbling up at the photo, pointing his hand to each member of the family and saying their names.

Fallon is Fa. Dion is Ion. Mama, Papa, and of course Sol. Nathaniel, who's just Thaniel. And on the very end, is a shadowy figure, whose name he doesn't quite know. Azareal, who was painted in, because he simply refused to come down.

He yawns, his long back hair down to the floor, as he shifts, and turn over on his leaf,and rubs his eye. So cute. I made him didn't. 

"Soldier!" Slade calls from behind me. 

Zephyr sits up suddenly, groggily, looking up at his father. Slade raises his brow. "We do not sleep on the floor. Come," 

Zephyr groans and toddles to his father opening his hands with a yawn. Slade picks him up, settling him in the crook of his elbow, rocking him gently. Slade looks down at me with a grin.

"Would you like to see something that our little one has been hiding from you?" Slade murmurs. I frown. My baby? He's not even capable of hiding anything he's a baby! 

Slade sets Zephry down. "Zeph!" he whispers. "Daddy has a sword you can play with."

Vines shoot from his little fingers, crawling over the hallway, sprouting from the walls combing for the sword.

"Never mind. I put it away," Slade whispers.

The vines crumble to dust. I blink. "He could use both our powers this whole time."

Slade grins. "He's been making vines to pick the locks in the weapon room."

That little...no wonder he kept getting in! I grin, and kiss his head. Just like his father, that child. 

Slade hums, rocking him as he walks off. I float behind him, my hand on his shoulder. He smiles up at me.

"I love you so much, little wife." he murmurs.

I smile back and kiss his head. "I love you too, Slade."