In Which Severin Does the Math

July 3, 1160

As of eight days ago, Severin was the father of six children--three daughters and three sons. His new baby daughter had been born on the twenty-fifth of June, anno domini 1160; the brother before her had been born on the fifteenth of July the year prior. This meant that between Lonriad and Riona was an age difference of eleven months and ten days, or three hundred and forty-six days considering that it was a leap year--twenty days short of a full year.

And of course, Viridis was three hundred and thirty-nine days older than Lonriad, and Searle was three hundred and fifteen days older than Viridis. Jadin was three hundred and twenty-one days older than Searle. Only his eldest two were more than a year apart; if Raia had been born on the seventeenth of October, and Jadin had been born on the twelfth of November of the next year, which also happened to be a leap year, then Jadin had been born three hundred and ninety-two days after Raia, or one year and twenty-six days.

Raia was now one thousand, seven hundred and twenty-one days old, meaning that the age difference between the first of the six and the last of the six was one thousand, seven hundred, and thirteen days. Therefore, since October the seventeenth, 1155, Alina had given birth approximately once every three hundred and forty-three days.

Severin had first become a father shortly after his twenty-third birthday, and a few months before Alina's twentieth. He was now twenty-seven--though admittedly closer to twenty-eight than he would have preferred to believe--and she, twenty-four. If he rounded his age to twenty-eight, or if he considered the fact that he had not had a birthday between the arrivals of Jadin and Searle, then Alina had given him a child each of their years since he was twenty-three and she was nineteen.

Assuming that his mental arithmetic was at least marginally correct, then his next baby would be born on June the third of next year, and if Alina continued to have a baby every year until she was forty-five, then they would have twenty-seven children, or one for every year Severin had lived to date.

Now, he loved his children more than anything, and did not for a second regret having any of them... but this was getting rather out-of-hand. Really, what twenty-seven-year-old man and his twenty-four-year-old wife had six children, especially considering they had not yet been married for six years and his wife been a maiden until her wedding night?

And aside from that... was it really fair to the children? The last thing he wanted to do was allot certain times he could spend with each of them. They were individuals, and they deserved to be treated as such; he did not want his brood to grow to the point where it was seen simply as a whole.

"Papa?" inquired a small voice from the rug on the floor as Severin planted one last kiss upon Riona's forehead.

It was his youngest son, twelve days shy of a year old, playing on the floor with the ark that was older than four of his children. "Papa?"

Eight days had not been long enough for Lonriad to get used to not being the baby of the family. The poor boy still expected to be picked up and cuddled every time either of his parents walked by, only to find that Riona already occupied their arms. This was precisely why Severin sometimes wished his children weren't so close in age; really, only Raia was at a stage where she could be moderately independent, and she had always been a rather precocious girl in the first place.

Sending one last fond smile Riona's way, Severin approached the boy and his toys and joined him on the floor. "Sorry about all this, Lonriad. Did you want to play?"

Lonriad stubbornly shook his head as he gnawed a doll's wooden feet.

"Well then, what do you want, you silly boy?"

His son dropped the figure and looked him straight in the identical eye as he gave his command of "Up."

Chuckling slightly, Severin pulled himself to his feet, then lifted his fifth-born to eye level. "That better, son?"

Almost a year later and he still felt the lingering relief of the boy's recovery. Lonriad had been born dreadfully small and ill--the fact that he'd been hastily christened after Severin's father was evidence enough of that--and for the first few months of his life, they had been unsure as to whether or not he would live. When he was first born, he had been too weak to even take to his mother's breast; they had fed him by dipping a cloth in milk and pressing it to his mouth.

But now, he was as strong and healthy as any year-old child; in fact, it seemed he was even moreso than his older sister Viridis. If only he'd been given a better name--it almost seemed an insult to Severin's mother, whom the child resembled in all but gender.

Lonriad shook his head once more as Severin pulled him closer. "But you just said you wanted to go up," laughed Severin. "Do you want to go back down?"

Another shake of that dark little head. Severin closed his eyes. "Then what is it that you want?"

He didn't have to wait long for his son's reply. "Hug."

"A hug," he repeated as he indulged him. "Why didn't you say so earlier?"

Lonriad didn't answer; he was not a shy boy, but he was not yet so verbal as some of Severin's older children.

Oh, but such things did not matter. Really, Severin had never been happier in his life, and he wanted nothing more than for things to remain as they were. He did not wish for any more unfortunate youngsters to find themselves lost in the hustle and bustle of uncountable siblings, if only for a moment. Nor did he care to be toting around infants as he approached his fifties, walking daughters down the aisle well into his seventies. This--what he had now--was all he could ever need.

He already had the six most perfect children a man could ever ask for--he saw no reason to actively try for any more.

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