In Which Had Gets an Improper Sort of Answer

April 5, 1172

"What the hell, Had?" Lyraina broke into a grin as she rounded into the reception area from the corridor. "You don't need to dress up in your best tunic for a social call, you idiot."

Had smirked. This was his girl. Her cinnamon hair might have hung loose and her new day gown was nicer than the ones his sisters wore on Sundays, but she was still the same old Lyraina--blunt, fancy-free, and playfully insulting. "You're one to talk about dressing up."

She shrugged. "What can I say? Sir Tarien spoils us--Hilla has an even fancier dress."

"I'm sure." He watched the edged of her bleached linen under-dress sweep across the hardwood as she strode toward him; not sure he could wait, he stepped forward himself and met her in the middle. "So, any idea when he's going to officially become your stepfather?"

Amused, Lyraina snorted. "If you like your head attached your neck, never ask my mother that."

"I don't have to; I'm sure she has plenty of fancy new dresses too?"

"Oh, she does." She placed her hands on his shoulders and pressed herself against him; he took a chance to indulge in the flowery scent of her hair before she drew back a few inches and met his eye. "She's too proud to wear them, though."

Had chuckled to himself. It was a clear picture in his mind--a great fine castle, six children and their grandmother all dressed like lords while their mother sat scowling in her same old peasant dress. "That's our Arydath. Anyway, there's something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh?" Her teasing grin flattened somewhat. He wasn't sure whether that was a good sign or not; on one hand, she might have assumed something worse and would be pleasantly surprised, or she knew exactly what he was here about and she wasn't going to take it well.

But he supposed he wouldn't know until he'd said his piece, so he swallowed his pride and took hold of her hand. "Well... you know that my father's been quite prosperous these past few years, right?"

Lyraina nodded. Inhaling deeply, Had stepped back and looked her over; either her body language was indecipherably neutral, or he didn't know her as well as he liked to think he did. "Well, I've been helping him, and he's been giving me a bit of a wage, and he said if I liked, I might move into this little house he owns a couple minutes down from his barn--get away from my bratty little siblings for a while."

At the mention of 'bratty little siblings', she gave an appreciative snicker. He took that as a good omen and continued. "So, I was wondering... maybe you'd want to live there with me? I actually talked to your mother about this a few months back, but then the fire happened and you ended up living here and I didn't know if you'd want to leave your castle just for me. But I did some thinking, and really--" he reached forward and ran his fingers through her hair, relieved to find that she didn't flinch "--we could be living in some godforsaken cave somewhere for all I care; as long as you're there, it'll be a castle."

Of all the stupid things to say! Where the hell had that even come from? Had felt an uncomfortable blush wreak havoc on his face as Lyraina drummed her fingers against his shoulder. "Is this a proposal?"

Sheepish, he curled his mouth into a small grin. "I guess it is. Anyway, I understand if you want some time to--"

She didn't let him finish. "Uh... Lyraina? That would be my ass..."

"I know." A mischievous twinkle in her eye, she bent down and let her fingers spider their way down his thigh to his fossa; his jerked shut in response to the tickling. "I figured since you just proposed to me, you wouldn't care if I grabbed it; you can grab my ass if you want."

Awkward and dazed and his heart skipping beats, Had placed a shaking, tentative hand on Lyraina's thigh, only for her to take hold of his wrist and maneuver it around to the back; for such a thin girl, her posterior was surprisingly well-formed. "So... is that a yes?"

"What do you think, chowderhead?"

Her smile said enough. It was nice to know that after all these years, he was fluent enough in the language of Lyraina not to need a proper sort of answer. "I love you."

"I know you do."

Bliss, he figured, hadn't existed before then--not for him anyway, not like this. He ran the back of his hand across the side of her face, her flesh soft and smooth like rose petals. "I can't believe you just agreed to spend the rest of your life with me."

Rolling her eyes, Lyraina sighed. Had he heard her sigh before? Somehow, she made it seem pretty. "That's because you're a moron--but I love you, even if you are stupid and ridiculous and... short."

"Short?" He slung his arms around her form and pulled her closer. "Short? I'm taller than you, you know."

As best she could within his embrace, she shrugged. "Details, details; just shut up and kiss me already."

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