Chapter Text
When Matthew joined her in the kitchen approximately five minutes later, looking pale and withdrawn, Diana tried not to think about what her parents might have asked him to cause him to appear that way. He handed over Philip’s empty bottle, picked up Becca to drop her off back with her grandparents, and soon it was just the two of them standing over the sink, rinsing out baby bottles while the twins played with Rebecca and Stephen a couple of rooms away.
“They gave me ‘The Talk’,” he finally told her, “As soon as you left. You know, the ‘if you hurt our daughter, you’ll eternally regret it’ speech. They couldn’t exactly give distinct threats because they know they’re not there for you when we first meet. But Rebecca assured me she’ll be watching over you in the future.”
“It’s a little late now,” Diana muttered, drying her hands with a patchwork dish towel. “You can’t really give the shovel talk after your daughter has married and had two kids.”
Matthew frowned. “You’re upset.”
“No,” she shook her head, looking out the window. But then after thinking on it for a brief second, Diana admitted, “Yes,” and turned to hug him.
Despite the vampire’s naturally cold skin, the embrace he gave her was warm and tender. One of his hands came up to stroke over her hair, the other splaying out over her hip in a possessive, protective manner. “I didn’t tell Rebecca and Stephen anything about our sex life, if that’s what’s concerning you.”
“No, it’s… I was thinking about the letter my mother wrote to us when we found the first missing page of Ashmole 782.” Her fingers curled into Matthew’s sweater. “They’ve spellbound me at this point.”
Matthew emitted a quiet, “Oh,” of realization. His arms tightened around her. Diana had communicated her feelings of betrayal, anger and bitter disappointment towards her parents on the subject of her spellbinding as a child to the vampire before, but had never been face to face with them, with the actual opportunity to confront them. “Are you going to ask them about it?”
“I don’t know,” she murmured. “This trip was so they could meet you and the twins, not so I could shout at them about a binding spell that you’ve already broken.”
“It’s not broken in this time. Out near Niagara Falls right now, there’s a five-year-old Diana Bishop spending the weekend with her aunts - who is very securely spellbound, and has absolutely no idea about it,” Matthew said gently. “You have to have some emotions you’d like to express to your parents about that. You can’t bottle them up inside, mon coeur. It’s not healthy.”
Diana knew it wasn’t healthy, and could already feel the anxiety building up inside of her, making her fingers twitch and tingle with electricity and the beginnings of a witchwind clawing at her chest. The owl-feather fletched arrow from the Goddess poked into her shoulder blade. That was something she definitely needed to keep secret from her parents. There were so many things left unsaid and unsolved between them all - Diana felt as if the writhing ball of tension that was sitting uncomfortably on top of her lungs was going to explode out of her at any moment. She could sense how agitated her mother and father’s magic were as well; as much as they tried to hide it, as a weaver, Diana could see all of their life threads. Their black and red threads were quivering with concern and unease.
Stephen left in the late afternoon to go grocery shopping, leaving Diana, Matthew and the twins with Rebecca. Diana’s mother was perfectly content to sit on the floor of the family room and play with Becca and Philip for hours on end, pulling out some of her toddler!Diana’s toys for them to mess around with. Philip was thrilled with the box of large foam Lego blocks that Rebecca procured, and with his grandmother’s help, began building a wall around Becca, who was happily playing with a light-up plastic snow globe. Diana and Matthew sat on the floor next to each other with their legs stretched out, leaning back on the front of the couch. Matthew would wiggle his toes every so often in a way that always entranced Becca and caused her to try and grab at them, releasing squeals whenever she caught them.
Rebecca could obviously sense that something was off with Diana, because she addressed Matthew more than her when asking about the twins’ developments, casting her nervous and worried glances but never actually asking what was wrong. Diana didn’t know if that relieved or frustrated her more. Her mother felt awkward around her and that was only natural, but it was as if Rebecca didn’t want to overstep by jumping back into a maternal role around her grown-up daughter. It reminded Diana of how her father had acted when they’d met up with him in 1591.
When Stephen arrived back home, he asked for Diana’s help in the kitchen to prepare dinner while Matthew and Rebecca fed the children again. The butcher had only had a lamb rack left by the time he’d got there, so Stephen had ordered a large beef shank and a venison steak to pick up tomorrow. Diana was touched by her father’s eagerness to be able to feed Matthew properly. He’d also bought a packet of cranberries and mixed nuts, knowing that apex predators usually ate those as part of their wild diet as well. Stephen chopped potatoes and carrots while Diana seasoned and seared the lamb, slicing a large section of blue meat off for her husband before placing it in the oven to cook. For Becca and Philip, she prepared a mash of apples, butternut squash and spinach (with a dash of blood from the lamb).
Stephen insisted on having everything covered, telling her to return back to the family room. Matthew had just finished feeding and burping Philip and was heading upstairs to place him down for a nap. Diana grimaced when she saw that her mother was struggling to get Becca to take her milk, the baby fussing and whimpering in her arms.
“She’s hungry but she’s not drinking,” Rebecca said, sounding distressed when Diana approached and took her daughter from the witch’s arms, shushing her gently until she calmed.
“Can I have her bottle?” Rebecca handed it over to her hastily. Diana examined the marker pen writing on the side of it. She and Matthew had taken to writing on the bottles discretely to show who the bottles were for, and the concentration of blood in them. “This is one of Philip’s bottles,” she explained. “It doesn’t have enough blood in it for her to stomach it properly.”
Rebecca looked relieved. “Oh. I must have picked up the wrong one from the fridge for her. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. Matthew and I have a bottle marking system but it’s hard for others to understand when we haven’t explained it. Here.” Diana handed Becca back over, stroking her thumb over her daughter’s brow to soothe her. “I’ll go and get one of her bottles.”
She didn’t want to mention it to her mother, but Becca should have been able to stomach the contents of Philip’s bottle just fine - it was one of his higher blood concentration ones. She was concerned, because that perhaps indicated that Becca needed another direct blood feeding soon, despite having had one quite recently. The idea of having her parents watch their granddaughter drinking blood from Diana’s arm was not a pleasant one.
“That bottle should have been fine for Becca,” Matthew said quietly, when they met on the stairs after Diana had dropped off a bottle with more blood in it than the one her daughter was being fed before. “I checked it myself. That means -”
“Yes,” she nodded. Diana quickly glanced back over her shoulder, into the kitchen where her father was glazing the carrots with hot honey. “I don’t want them to see.”
Matthew shook his head. “We can’t keep a secret like this from your parents, Diana. You’re hiding your emotions - I’m hiding mine - we’re withholding information about the future from them… the tension rising at the moment is the rain at the start of a hurricane. The only way we can reach the eye is by fighting through it together.”
“Good thing that I can control the wind then,” Diana said, moving away back to the family room.
The vampire caught her arm, releasing a soft growl. “Diana.”
“I’ll talk to them, Matthew,” she allowed. “But not tonight.”
They ate an hour and a half later and then they retired to bed early, as parents often did when they had young children. Diana and Matthew curled up under the blankets in the darkness of Em and Sarah’s room, the witch trying not to think about the scent of winterbloom hanging in the air which she associated with Emily, as she knew if she pondered on it, she would begin to miss her too much once again. That was one of the other things they were hiding from her parents - that Em was dead in the future.
Becca and Philip must have been able to sense her sadness because they slept fitfully, waking every hour or so and crying, forcing Matthew to get up to comfort them. The floorboards groaned and the walls thudded each time, the house expressing its exasperation at the twins’ restlessness. The fourth time they woke up wailing, Stephen stumbled into the bedroom with exhausted, bloodshot eyes, asking if everything was alright.
“It’s just an unfamiliar environment to them,” Matthew whispered to him, as if he was trying not to wake Diana up despite the fact that she was lying and staring at the ceiling at this point, insomnia plaguing her. “They’ll quieten down for tomorrow night. I’m terribly sorry.”
Stephen waved it off. “Nonsense. Just let Rebecca and I know if we can do anything to help, all right?”
Diana rolled over in bed to face him. “Can you…” She wiggled her fingers tiredly. She usually hated using magic on the twins but they needed to sleep, and a calming spell would work well on them. She was just too weary to stand.
Stephen frowned. “Yes, I suppose, but is that safe? It won’t hurt them?”
“Diana’s used similar spells on them before,” Matthew said. “If she says it’s okay, it’s okay.” At this point, despite needing little sleep as a vampire, he just wanted to be able to stay in bed as well.
They watched as Stephen gently stroked his fingertips over each of their children’s foreheads, whispering hushedly under his breath. Within seconds, they were sleeping soundly. Diana wanted to weep with joy but settled on thanking her father profusely. Matthew was asleep before his head hit the pillow and Diana followed him into unconsciousness soon after that, his cool body pressed against hers.
The twins didn’t wake again until early the next morning. Diana shot up in bed as soon as she heard Becca start sniffling, her maternal instincts whirring. Her daughter was standing up in her makeshift crib, gazing over at her with tear-filled eyes. Philip wasn’t crying yet, but if he heard his sister, he would soon begin to. Matthew shifted minutely with a soft sigh, still asleep, as Diana carefully clambered out of bed, slipped her feet into socks, yanked on one of his sweaters and scooped Becca up into her arms. It was freezing in the house as there wasn’t any heating - just a fire in a grate that hadn’t been lit yet and candles scattered throughout the rooms. She took the baby downstairs quickly, recognizing her crying as meaning she was hungry. But she wouldn’t take any of the bottles Diana offered her.
“What do you want, chérie?” she murmured, rocking the baby back and forth. “Come on, Becca, give me something to work with here. Mommy wants to help but you need to show me what you need.” Becca stopped crying long enough to mouth at Diana’s arm, her little developing baby teeth scraping at the skin there. It wasn’t normal hunger bothering her - it was bloodthirst. “Shit…”
Matthew would wake up the moment Diana’s blood hit the air and his mad dash down the stairs would undoubtedly wake her parents up as well. But it was 5am and there wasn’t another option. Becca needed to be fed, so she would be fed.
Barely seconds after the cut was made and Becca latched on, Matthew was dashing downstairs in a blur, his hair looking very much like a bird’s nest and his eyes wide with panic, flitting over her as he searched her for injuries. Once he realized what Diana was doing, he dropped his tense shoulders with a sigh, sliding onto the couch next to her.
“You’re only meant to do this with somebody else present,” he said.
“I knew you’d come,” she shrugged, watching her daughter’s throat convulse as she gulped down mouthfuls of warm, iron-rich witch blood. Matthew gently adjusted Becca’s head with one hand. “Do you think we woke up my parents?”
“Your father is still sleeping - your mother is coming down the stairs now,” her husband answered, glancing over in that direction.
When Rebecca walked in, a myriad of expressions past over her face; first confusion and curiosity, then horrified realization, followed by more bemusement, wariness, and reluctant acceptance. Her eyes snapped between Diana and Matthew suspiciously before her gaze finally wandered down to her granddaughter. Diana watched her mother cautiously for any trace of disgust or fear, but relaxed when she saw none.
“So the twins don’t just ingest blood through having it mixed with your breastmilk in bottles, huh?” Rebecca asked weakly.
“You can go,” Diana said. “You don’t have to watch this. I know it turns most people’s stomachs.”
Rebecca sat down in one of the armchairs. “I’m fine,” she responded, and her voice was steady. “How often do Becca and Philp have to… um…”
“Draw from Diana directly?” Matthew finished for her. The vampire gave a small, reassuring smile, rising to strike a match and light the candles on the countertop and kindling in the fire. Within half a minute, he had a roaring blaze going, although that was partly due to Diana pushing a spark of witchfire into the dry wood. “Twice a week for Becca, once a fortnight for Philip.”
Eyeing the spot where the baby’s lips were latched onto Diana’s skin, Rebecca asked, “Does it hurt?”
“She’s teething, so she’s a bit nippy.” Diana slid her finger beneath Becca’s mouth to release the suction pressure. A droplet of dark crimson blood trickled down her arm. “It doesn’t hurt normally, though, no. I can numb the area with a spell. I feel tired afterward and sometimes a little dizzy, but that’s why I have somebody sit with me to make sure I’m safe.” Swiping the drop of blood with the tip of her thumb, she offered it to her husband. “Waste not, want not.”
Matthew gently took hold of her hand, sucked the drop of blood off and then settled their joint hands over Becca’s back. “Probably shouldn’t have done that in front of your mother, Diana.”
“Mom doesn’t mind,” Diana snuck her a glance. “Do you?”
Becca broke off and turned towards her grandmother with a faint growl, as Rebecca rose from her seat and slowly approached to perch on the other side of Diana to Matthew. It came off as a warning snarl, although whether that was to make sure she gave the right answer, or alert her that she was getting too close to the baby’s precious blood source - they’d noticed Becca was starting to get territorial when it came to food - Diana and Matthew didn’t know. But it triggered Rebecca to laugh.
“Don’t worry, Becca-bug, I’m not going to take away your mommy’s blood or get angry with your parents,” she told the toddler.
“Becca-bug?” Matthew repeated with amusement.
“Stephen and I have given everybody nicknames. Becca here is Becca-bug. Philip is Pippin. Diana is pumpkin, or peanut. You… we haven’t decided yet, but you’re either going to be Matty or Dark Prince.”
“I’d prefer just to be called Matthew,” the vampire muttered.
“What are yours and Dad’s nicknames?” Diana wondered.
Rebecca winked. “Delicate ears in the room, Diana. Wouldn’t be appropriate to tell you.”
Diana wrinkled her nose. “Ew.”
Rebecca and Diana made breakfast together while Matthew tended to the twins, having a full layout of bacon, sausages, grilled tomatoes, hash browns and toast ready by the time Stephen woke up and made his way downstairs. Matthew enjoyed a glass of Riesling while they ate, bouncing Becca and Philip on his knees.
“I need to make a couple of calls,” Matthew announced, draining his wine and standing. He deposited the twins on their grandparents’ laps. “Rebecca, Stephen, do you mind if I use the landline?”
“Not at all,” Stephen answered.
“Thank you. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
“Who is he calling?” Rebecca asked, once the vampire had vacated the room. “Surely in this time, there can’t be anybody he needs to contact.”
“I think he wants to check that this time’s Matthew is doing what he’s meant to be doing,” Diana replied, sipping at her tea.
“That makes sense,” Stephen nodded. But then he winced, placing his hand on his chest.
Diana ran her eyes over him worriedly. “Dad? You’re not having a heart attack or something, right?”
“Bennu,” he murmured. “He’s annoyed at being cooped up. Usually I let him out for a fly in the mornings.”
“Let him fly.” Diana finished off her toast, licking the crumbs from her fingers and taking her plate to the sink. Taking Philip from her father and propping him on her lap, she continued, “I would let Corra out to join him, but I released her a couple of months ago - well, by my time.”
“Corra?” Rebecca echoed.
“You didn’t tell her?” Diana questioned her father, surprised.
“It’s a weaver thing. Rebecca said weaver things are just for you and me to share,” Stephen responded with a shrug.
“Well, Corra was my familiar, a firedrake,” Diana explained. “I ended up setting her free though after mastering my weaver abilities.”
“Do you think the twins will have familiars?”
She frowned. “If they’re weavers, it’s highly likely they will,” she replied carefully. “But we don’t know if they are.” Seeing the way her father was twitching, she encouraged him, “Let Bennu out for a fly. Becca and Philip will love him.”
The gleaming heron burst free from Stephen’s chest with a flurry of silver wings. Perching atop the man’s leg, the heron ruffled out his feathers, a faint blue hue of watery magic streaming out of his beautiful tail feathers and flowing down Stephen’s back. Becca and Philip immediately gasped in awe, reaching up their tiny hands. Bennu chirped and fluttered down to the floor. He allowed the twins to stroke over his feathers, glowing softly with power.
“Hello,” Diana greeted him, holding out her hand for the heron to nudge his head into. The familiar recognized her, arching and tucking his wings happily. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” The smile faded from her face. “I wish Corra were here. She would love to see him again.”
“Do weavers only ever take one familiar?” Rebecca asked. “You could take on another.”
“Weavers gain their familiar after weaving and casting their own first spell. As far as I’m aware, that familiar stays with the weaver for life, unless they release them. Diana could take on an animal companion, but not another familiar, I don’t think,” Stephen said.
“I wouldn’t want another anyway,” Diana mused. “Corra was my one and only.”
Rebecca smirked. “Maybe you could adopt a herd of stags and a pack of wolves, like your namesake.”
“No deer. Matthew eats deer for breakfast. Literally,” Diana chuckled. “And for lunch and dinner as well, when he gets the chance.”
“And we already have a wolf living in our house in our time,” Matthew said, walking back into the kitchen. He dropped kisses on the twins’ heads and then gently lifted Diana’s chin to press his lips to hers. “No more wolves, please, mon coeur.”
“You have a pet wolf?”
“Our family has three dogs,” Diana rolled her eyes. “Matthew has his hunting hounds, Fallon and Hector, and our son Jack has a Komondor, a Hungarian guard dog named Lobero. Lobero is almost as big a wolf and definitely as heavy as one so that’s what Matthew likes to call him. He’s also been called a beast before.”
“We were thinking of getting a dog, to grow up with you and keep you safe,” Stephen said with a grin. “Sarah protested, of course. She said that if anybody in the Bishop family was ever going to get a pet, they should get a cat.”
Thinking of Tabitha, her aunt’s tabby cat who hated her with a passion but loved Matthew, Diana smiled. “She would say that.”
Stephen took the twins and Bennu out for a walk in the woods to escape dishwashing and drying duties while the rest of them cleaned up. When he arrived back, his heron familiar had been reabsorbed, apparently content after his flight around the forest. He and Rebecca then insisted on looking after Becca and Philip for a couple of hours so Matthew and Diana could enjoy some time to themselves. The witch and vampire decided to take a stroll around the woods themselves, losing themselves in the quietness of nature, hand in hand.
(They ended up having a very heavy make-out session against a tree, Diana’s legs wrapped around Matthew’s waist and her shirt hiked up as he trailed freezing fingers over her back to make her gasp. The mood was ruined, however, when a mound of snow fell from a jostled branch onto their heads and down the back of Diana’s collar.)
Diana’s parents shot them unimpressed but amused looks when they returned to the Bishop house with slightly swollen lips, red cheeks and ruffled, wet clothing. Swallowing her embarrassment, Diana busied herself with making raspberry rice pudding to feed to the twins for lunch, listening to her husband discuss the new Walt Disney World that had just opened in Florida with her mother.
Stephen went out to pick up the meats he’d ordered from the butcher’s. When he came back an hour later with the two plastic bags, he had a concerned, solemn expression on his face. “I ran into the O’Neils,” he told them. “It’s the new moon tonight and Sarah told them last month they could come and pick some feverfew and coltsfoot from her herb garden at twilight for some of their New Year good luck charms.”
“What did you tell them?” Rebecca asked.
“I couldn’t exactly tell them no, could I? They could already tell by my aura that something was up. If I told them they couldn’t come, they would probably call the coven in to investigate.”
“So they’re coming?”
“Yes.”
“Shit,” Rebecca said, and it was the most serious Diana had heard her mother since they arrived.
“It’s fine,” Diana said. “I can weave an invisibility spell for Matthew, the twins and I. They won’t see or find us.”
“That’s not going to work,” Rebecca shook her head. “They’ll know we have a vampire on the property as soon as they step past your father’s wards. And even with your glamour on, you have a huge magical presence, Diana - they’ll be able to detect you from a mile away. You’ll need to hide out in the woods.”
“I can weave a spell to shield us,” she protested. “It will be fine.”
Stephen wouldn’t accept that. “Your mother is right, peanut. You’ll need to leave the property and stay out of the wards. It will only be for an hour or two. We’ll come and get you once the O’Neils have gone.”
Her frustration flared. “You’re not listening to me -”
“Diana, even if you do weave a shield spell to hide you, Matthew and the twins, the O’Neils will be able to sense such a giant magical glamour being in place.” He peered around anxiously. “You shouldn’t use any magic in the house anymore - at least not for the rest of the day. It’ll leave traces behind and be detectable.”
Diana stared at her father in disbelief. “You’re forbidding me to use magic?”
“It’s for your own good,” her father tried.
But Diana’s anger had overtaken her, and she took a threatening step forward. “And what are you gonna do if I do use magic? Spellbind me?” she spat. “Again?”
Her father looked as if she’d just slapped him. Her mother had her hands covering her mouth in shock and shame, her eyes filled with tears.
Diana turned and stormed away without a second thought.
As Diana strode off, she heard Matthew call her name quietly, but ignored him, just picking up Philip in her arms and striding out of the house. Becca was sitting on her father’s lap and she didn’t want to look Matthew in the eye after her outburst at her parents. She was too emotional and she knew that if she saw an ounce in disappointment in her husband’s gaze, she would burst into tears.
She stalked through the snow over to the hay barn, let herself inside and then sank down into the frosty straw against the wall, Philip cradled to her chest. Her breaths stuttered and uneven, Diana tipped her head back and struggled not to cry. Philip moaned and buried his face in his mother’s neck, trying to comfort her, but it was no use.
Diana hadn’t meant to say it - yet, she had. She’d squashed all of her fury and fear and misery down, unwilling to accept and understand her feelings, but now it was impossible to keep them contained. Like Matthew had said, it was unhealthy to keep them all bottled up; she couldn’t control them anymore. Her head felt like a boulder on top of her body, thick and fuzzy, while her heart ached and muscles refused to respond to her brain. Diana hugged her son tightly, panting and fighting back her panic attack.
She could sense Matthew coming, hear the crunching of the snow under his feet. Diana pushed herself to her feet, closing her eyes and swallowing at the dizziness that washed over her. Keeping Philip held securely in her arms, she floated carefully up into the rafters of the barn, picking out one of the sturdier support beams to land on. Her husband was alone, which was a relief, as she would have no idea what to say to her parents, but Diana wasn’t particularly looking forward to having a conversation with him about what had just happened either.
She’d curled up in the corner where two support beams met the wall, creating a cozy nook, when the vampire stepped inside. His gaze immediately rose to find her as he inhaled deeply. Matthew stood for a moment, seemingly debating what he should do. He settled on slowly clambering up into the loft and sitting down beside her.
They sat in silence for a moment. Diana found that the anxiety clenching at her was loosening, falling away. Matthew wasn’t passing judgment on her at all and was just there to support her. His cold side pressing into hers was a reminder that no matter what happened or where they were, Matthew would always have her back.
“Give me Philip,” he requested softly. “He’s shivering.”
Guilt striking her, she passed Philip over to Matthew, who babbled excitedly and grasped onto his father’s sweater. The baby was indeed shaking from the cold. Matthew gently freed his sweater from Philip’s hand so he could shed it quickly and use it as a blanket to wrap him up. Diana pulled off her own sweater (which was actually Matthew’s) and handed it over to use a blanket for Philip as well, before the witch coiled up into a protective ball, hugging her knees. She didn’t mind being cold; her magic was coiled up in her chest acting like an internal space heater, radiating warmth through her veins.
“What happened after I left?” she asked, her voice small. “My parents…”
“They were upset,” Matthew told her. “But not because of you. For you. Spellbinding you as a child has been haunting them for several years now and I don’t imagine they ever thought you would get the chance to confront them about it. They asked me what it was like when you found out; how, where, why and what your reaction was.”
“Did you tell them?”
“As much as I could,” he replied. “Is that all right?”
“I wouldn’t be able to talk much about it anyway,” Diana muttered. “I’m always going to be angry that I was half myself for my entire life up until that point I met you, and that was their doing. But I know they were trying to keep me safe - that they did keep me safe. Everything with Ashmole 782, Peter Knox, Satu, and the Congregation would have been a thousand times worse if the witches knew the true extent of my powers. So I understand why they spellbound me. I honestly do. But it’s always going to sting.”
“I told them that,” Matthew responded. “That you understand why they did it. I think that might have actually upset them more. It’s worse for them to know they’ve done something awful to you to protect you, and even though you appreciate why they did it, you’re understandably furious with them.”
“I don’t know really how I feel.”
“Angry,” the vampire said quietly. “And sad, and anxious. I can smell it.”
“I haven’t felt this anxious since before I met you,” she admitted.
Even with their two sweaters blanketing him, Philip was shivering, so Matthew took him back to the house to warm up and dress him in his snowsuit. He asked Diana if she wanted to come back with him, but Diana shook her head and said she wanted a couple more minutes of quietness in the barn. She couldn’t face her parents so immediately after what happened. Content to remain up in the barn’s support beams, despite the bitter cold, Diana occupied herself by trying out some new knots with her weaver cords.
She must have lost track of time when attempting to link a double tenth knot together, because soon Matthew was back with both of the twins in their snowsuits and a jacket, gloves, scarf, and hat for Diana. It was late afternoon, approaching onto early evening, and the O’Neils would be arriving at the house in half an hour or so. The vampire had the great idea of wandering out into the forest - beyond the Bishop boundary - and building a campfire for the evening to sit around with the kids. He had to traverse back to the house to grab a backpack full of blankets, the venison steak, and pots of baby food for Becca and Philip, as well as a shovel for clearing snow. The shovel was left behind, though, once Diana pointed out she could just use a spell to get rid of it.
They only had to walk around twenty minutes into the forest to find a nice, small clearing deep within the woodland that was beyond the Bishop property protection spell, where they wouldn’t be detected by the O’Neils. They pulled out one of the blankets and dropped the twins down on top of it with their teething rings so they could get to work. Diana cleared the snow and dried the ground with a spell made up on the spot and then began gathering kindling for the fire while Matthew built a little shelter for the twins to sit inside, to shield them from the wind, as well as a ring of large rocks for the fire to be set up in. It was already getting darker and colder. The vampire might be able to withstand the dropping temperatures, and the twins would be resilient due to the vampire blood in them, but Diana knew that they needed to get the fire started soon otherwise she was going to freeze to death.
Diana and Matthew worked together, the witch providing the sparks to light the tinder as Matthew tended to the flames carefully, ensuring they had enough oxygen and fuel. Once the blaze was steady, they set a couple of larger logs around the edges that would burn smokelessly and settled down into the shelter with the twins on their laps. It was a simple shelter made of two tripods with a pole balanced between them and a blanket thrown over the top; it was a bit of a squeeze to get all of them in, only because Matthew was so tall, but it blocked off the wind pretty well, keeping them and the fire safe from the cold breeze.
They would have to wait a good while for the fire to die down into white coals, that would be hot enough to sear and cook the venison on. Meanwhile, they fed Philip and Becca their food from the pots Matthew had picked up. After her feeding that morning, Becca wasn’t particularly hungry and most of the spinach, broccoli and squash mix ended up on her face rather than in her mouth.
“We should do this again when we get home, with the rest of the scion,” Diana said, wiping Becca’s mouth off with her bib. “Jack and Marcus would really enjoy this. Maybe we could turn it into a family camping and hunting trip. We could travel up to Canada for the week and rent out one of those lakeside cabins.”
Matthew poked a long stick at the wood, which crackled as the flames licked at it. “That’s a lovely idea. It would work well when we start teaching the children how to hunt. We’d start them off on small mammals of course, like whitetail and mule deer fawns, maybe some hares and weasels. Slowly build up them to the bigger animals and predators such as foxes, wolverines and mountain lions. Jack’s never hunted with a wolf pack before, so I’m excited for him to try that. Marcus will revel in teaching him and the children how to take down a moose or, heaven forbid, a grizzly bear.”
“You know it’s not normal for a father to be so enthusiastic about his kids hunting a 1200 pound animal in the future.”
“Our family has never been normal,” Matthew said, quirking an amused eyebrow.
“Touché. But you cannot let Sarah know under any circumstances that your son will be teaching his baby sister how to attack a grizzly bear. She’ll throttle Marcus, then you, and then me.”
Matthew grinned. “My mother will be delighted. She was immensely proud of me when I took down my first lynx. She’ll be ecstatic when the twins start hunting.”
“Ysabeau would be,” she sighed.
They fell into a comfortable, amiable silence once again, cuddling the twins while leaning into each other’s sides. The fire kept Diana warm despite the cold wind and Matthew’s freezing skin, and it was nice to have the nature surrounding them. Thinking about the situation they were in, however, just reminded the witch of why exactly they needed to be here in the forest - and made her start thinking about her parents again.
“Do you think they regret it?” Diana asked suddenly.
“You mean your parents, spellbinding you?”
“Yes.”
“No,” he said honestly. “I think they would’ve if they’d spellbound you for life, but they tied it to need, and me. They knew your magic would be freed eventually.” He paused. “I think they regret the pain it caused you. Seeing you as an adult, grown up with a family and full control of your weaver abilities, they finally understand what exactly their decision has done to you - and will do to the child they’re currently raising.”
The witch picked at her nails nervously. “I don’t want them to apologize. There wouldn’t be any point.” She shot him a sharp look. “I’m not apologizing to them either. I refuse to suppress my magic in any capacity anymore - my dad was out of line basically ordering me not to use my powers.”
“I agree,” Matthew said. “But you do need to have a conversation with them about this, Diana.”
“I know.” But not anytime soon, she thought.