In Which Falidor Has Some Unexpected Guests

January 30, 1172

"He isn't exactly fond of sharing, is he?" laughed Raia's grandfather as he slung his arm around her grandmother. Falidor half-expected Laveria to push him away, but she never did; perhaps having just had a great-grandchild together did merit some celebratory cuddling. "Good thing Nora's about to pop any minute now, otherwise I doubt you'd be able to make him leave."

Laveria fell back onto Lonriad's shoulder, then sent a wink her granddaughter's way. "Frankly, I think the only thing that's keeping him from kidnapping her right now is this ridiculous heatwave--doesn't want her to get accustomed to such weather during this time of year."

"Do you mind keeping it down?" Those must have been the first words out of Lord Severin's mouth that hadn't been directed toward the baby. It was nice to know that the rest of them still existed in his world, really. "I think she's trying to sleep."

From her seat on the couch, Raia smirked. "Well, it isn't as if she didn't have a chance last night--not that she used it. Kept us up until dawn, didn't she, Falidor?"

And yet, here she was--fully dressed, ready to entertain obnoxious family members just as if she hadn't spent the better part of the previous evening shoving a baby from between her legs. Where did she get the energy? Ailede had spent a good week or so in bed after each time she gave birth, just because she figured she could; he knew she'd been milking the circumstances for all they were worth, but he'd thought most women might have taken at least a day or so to recuperate.

Then again, this was Raia.

Lord Severin shot a knowing glance back at Falidor, then resumed his gentle bouncing of the infant. "Raia, you tell me this as if I haven't gone through the exact same thing eight times already--going on nine! And by God, I'll have you know that you were the worst of them. Prepare yourself for many sleepless nights, my girl."

Shuddering, Raia pulled her legs up onto the couch and reclined. Falidor sent her a reassuring grin, then turned back to his father-in-law--God, that was such a bizarre thought! "Might I hold my daughter for a minute?"

"No!" That figured.

The duke, looking as if he was about to make a grab for Laveria's breast, chuckled. "What did I tell you? He used to be like that with his toys too."

Raia rolled onto her back and laughed, just as someone knocked on the door. "Falidor, do you mind getting that?"

"Might as well, seeing as apparently I can't be trusted with my own child." He sent a mock-glower Lord Severin's way, then proceeded to the door with a smile. Who might it have been? One of Raia's siblings? The duke and duchess, perhaps?

Or not. "Oh. It's you."

In response he received a wide smile--half apologetic, half amused. That he could have expected, he supposed, but... "My God! Are you actually wearing clothes?"

"Well, that more comf'terble for you, yes?" Suspicious, Falidor nodded; Tavrin seemed to take that as a blessing to continue. "Not comf'terble for me, though--very scratchy. How you Dovans wear these things?"

Stupid questions didn't deserve answers. Falidor sighed. "I take it you're here to see the baby?"

His eyes alight, Tavrin smiled again. "I right, then? Yesterday?"

"Yes--yesterday." If only because Raia wouldn't have been too happy about him denying her friend entrance, Falidor gestured for Tavrin to follow and returned to the living room. Lord Severin, now seated on the couch, had finally surrendered the baby; now it was Raia who was up and about, pacing around the room with little Alina in her arms. "Managed to get her back, I see."

"It wasn't easy." Shifting the baby into a cradled position, she caught sight of Tavrin and laughed. "Where the hell did you get those clothes?"

"Stoled them off laundry rope." He brushed past Falidor and proceeded instead to mother and child. Raia held out Alina so he could get a closer look; the baby's brown eyes widened. "She look just like you, yes? Your eyes--his hair, though."

"So it seems at this point, anyway."

"Oh, I think she always look like you." Falidor stepped around the table and planted himself firmly behind Raia as Tavrin waved at the little girl. Not even a day old and he was already wary of the men around his daughter--strange how that worked, really. "What her name?"

"Alina," Raia answered, raising the baby back to her shoulder, "for my mother."

Satisfied, Tavrin took a step back. "Pretty."

"Yes, we thought so too." As Raia began to massage the baby's back, someone else knocked on the door. "Falidor, could you get that?"

Sighing, he relented. This time, at least, it would probably be family--one of his siblings, no doubt, or perhaps one of his children.

...or maybe not. "Oh dear God!"

"Hello, I'm looking for the man who stole my clothes..."

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