In Which Rona Pays It Back

August 2, 1179

Yvanette squirmed in protest as Rona lowered her into the crib. For all the little girl usually fell asleep within a minute of being put down, she never failed to put up a fuss about her afternoon nap--tiring herself out, no doubt. Rona supposed she out to be grateful. "Aww, sweetie, we both know you'll be cranky if you miss a nap."

Her daughter gave a succinct argument of "Mmm-mmm-ba!" as Rona set her on the mattress, tiny features set into a firm pout. Rona had to giggle as she ran a finger through Yvanette's curls. Based on her siblings and nieces and nephews, she expected that Yvanette would start talking soon, but she privately hoped it wouldn't be the 'any day now' her mother had predicted. If Yvanette could talk, then Yvanette could talk back--and oh, how she'd miss that frustrated, semi-verbal cuteness!

"'Mmm-mmm-ba' to you too." She nuzzled her baby's nose, then tapped it gently; Yvanette made a swipe for her finger, but she wasn't quite quick enough. "Sweet dreams."

"Ga!"

"Love you too, bunny." She planted a firm smooch on Yvanette's forehead and dipped her down to a lie. The baby kicked a few times, but sure enough, her eyelids drooped. "Nighty-night."

Rona waited a moment to be certain that Yvanette was asleep before draping a blanket over her and tiptoeing to the door. She opened it just enough to slip through and stepped back into her own bedroom. "She's sleeping."

"Oh?" Ashe dipped his quill into the inkwell and turned his head, eyes bright and green despite the cloudy sky outside. She loved Yvanette's baby blues, but God did she hope at least one of her children got the green. "She wasn't still sneezing, was she?"

"No, and I'm not worried. Mother and Xeta say it's just seasonal allergies; I had them when I was little, and Dalston has them now."

"Still. She's so little." Men. Yvanette was exactly the right size for her age. "I don't want to think she's sick."

"Then it's a good thing she's not." He didn't look convinced--not that he ever was convinced of their baby's good health. They'd be better off talking about something else. Curious, Rona glanced over at the piece of parchment in front of him. She couldn't read it from this distance, but the letters had lost much of their shaky uncertainty and the words looked to be in reasonable lines. "Your handwriting has improved."

She might have expected a 'Thank you' or a 'Really?', but the only acknowledgement she got was Ashe shooting to his feet and shoving the note under a stack of books. Rona blinked, stunned. It had just been a harmless compliment! "What the hell?"

"Oh, uh--damn." He grimaced. She didn't see the need. "I guess the ink's all smudged now. Stupid of me, wasn't it?"

I'll say. "What was that?"

He frowned. "Sorry?"

"That piece of parchment. What were you writing and why didn't you want me to see it?" Nothing. She didn't want to raise her voice with Yvanette asleep in the next room, but if he didn't give her an answer soon she couldn't promise to keep that resolve. "Well? It's not that difficult a question, is it?"

"No. No, of course not. It's just... Isidro wanted a report on some of the squires." Of course he did. "I guess I'll have to start over later, but I think I remember most--"

"Stop lying to me!" The following silence was practically deafening. Weary, she glimpsed toward the door and strained her ear for a cry from her daughter. It never came. Thank God the girl was a good sleeper. "Ashe, please. Just tell me who you were writing."

"I can't." She froze. There was a gentility in his voice that didn't quite add up. Like he did, deep down, truly want to tell her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you, it's just--"

"What?" Her own voice had softened. Hands to his shoulders, she pulled herself nearer and stared; his eyes seemed to be fighting to keep contact. "Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I do." He leaned in to kiss her, but she turned aside. He reminded her of no one so much as herself in the earlier days of their courtship. All the poor boy ever did was admire her and she kept closing him off, shoving him aside. But that was the past. They'd gotten married and she'd had a baby and she thought she might kind of love him. And now, all she wanted was to know him better and he wouldn't let her in.

"I'm sorry, Rona. I just... I can't. I'm sorry."

"Ashe--"

"It's not important. Let's just move on, all right?"

He squeezed her hand, then let it drop to her side. She watched as he shuffled to the alcove, retiring to the couch with his head hung. The few yards between them might have been leagues. She wanted to reach out and hold him close but she wasn't sure she loved quite far enough. How could she? She barely knew who he was. "Ashe..."

"Please--"

"No." She sat down beside him and took him by the hand; he flinched, but he didn't squirm away. "Was the letter for someone back in Dovia? A family member?"

He shook his head. "You're my family. You and Yvanette. No one else."

"A friend, then?"

Another shake. "All my friends are here too."

"You must have had someone--"

"No." Eyes wide, he pulled back his hand and sank forward, barely catching himself with his own hands. "Please don't ask me about life before you."

He'd promised he'd never hurt her. She knew he hadn't meant to, but it stung nonetheless. She'd figured he never could. "I just want to get to know you better."

"Why? You already know me better than anyone else does."

"That's not good enough." Had she done something wrong? Was this her comeuppance for being so frosty with him before? She'd never meant to put him through so much. And she'd never thought he'd make her pay it back. "You know everything about me and I know next to nothing about you. Why shouldn't I want to know more about the man I married? My daughter's father?"

"I know. And I'm sorry." And yet, instead of slinging an arm around her or taking her hand back or even nudging her foot with his, he stood up and started to walk away. "It's just... I used to be..."

He trailed off. She wanted him to finish on his own, but found she couldn't wait. "Yes?"

A light sigh broke the quiet that followed. Rona had risen from the couch and poised her chin on his shoulder before he finally answered. "...different."

"Bad different?" He shook his head. "Good different?"

"No. I... I was..." She steered him around and let him rest his brow against her own. His eyes were even greener up close, scared and sad and so alone. She did believe he wanted to tell her. She wished she could be so sure that he actually would. "It doesn't even matter. You wouldn't want anything to do with me if you knew."

Stupid, stupid boy. "You don't know that."

"But I can't risk it." A twinge of some compound emotion shot through her as he pressed himself against her, twirling her about as if it were the only way to keep the world turning. "I love you. I love you so much. I swear to God, I loved you since I met you. And it used to be that I could tell myself that nothing would ever come of it and I could live with that. But now that I know what it's like to be with you... I'm sorry. You deserve to know and I'm being selfish, but I can't tell you. I could never go on without you."

The remains of a shattered tear lingered on his lashes. Unsure of what to say, Rona brushed them away with her thumb. "You should lie down."

Swallowing, he let her lead him to the side of the bed. She set herself down by the pillow and patted her lap; he took the hint and joined her, soft red hair falling back as he laid his head on her thighs. His form felt tense, rigid. She'd never seen him like this and she wished she never had. She didn't want him to be afraid of her. "I really care about you. You know that, don't you?"

He nodded, his near hand reaching up to took her hair behind her ear. She brushed back a few locks of his own, the green eyes even wider without the contrasting frame. "And I like being with you. I want us to be happy. I want you to feel comfortable around me."

She landed a tickle on the side of his torso. He yielded a short breath of a laugh, but it was enough to set her smiling. "You'll tell me some day, won't you? You don't have to tell me now, but some day?"

His eyes left her face and fixed on a knot in the ceiling plank. It was several seconds later before he looked back. "Some day."

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