In Which Garrett Does Not Have One of Each

October 21, 1180

Red Severin--both dark-haired little boys on the floor were named Severin, and both were called Sevvie by their fathers, so Garrett had taken to distinguishing them by the color of their shirts--was Valira and Searle's younger son, the only child they had brought with them as their other three were plenty old enough to spend the night with only the nurses about. He and Karlspan were less than a year apart and played together well; Red Severin was by far the more outgoing of the two, but while many children his age might have been frustrated by quieter playmates, the boy had nothing but patience for his shy, mild cousin.

Blue Severin was Lonriad and Asalaye's eldest. He wasn't mean, but he seemed to prefer animals to other boys, if the plight of poor captive Sheba was any indication. His little brother, scared of the bigger boys as year-old children often were, clung instead to his father's tunic.

Garrett couldn't be sure what he might have done with little Karlspan if his brothers-in-law hadn't had the good sense to bring their own sons along. He would have done what he could for the boy, of course--what sort of horrible father wouldn't try to comfort his son when the only mother the kid had ever known could very well be in mortal peril?--but if he'd been the one distracting Karlspan, wouldn't that bring further emphasis to his own worries? Karlspan's preoccupation with his little cousins and the presence of the other men were the only things holding Garrett's own sanity in place.

Not that the men were doing the greatest job of it.

"Maybe Nanalie's at an advantage? You know, being a midwife and all." Searle's suggestion was a misguided attempt at reassurance where distraction would have been preferred. "She knows what to expect, and how to best compose herself. And she's not the sort who's prone to panic if something goes wrong, so extra stress shouldn't be a problem."

As if to punish him, Lonriad didn't only nod in agreement, but apparently felt the need to contribute. "Plus you know how everyone listens to Nanalie. She's probably nagged the kid out already, no problem."

Garrett glowered at them both. At least his father-in-law had the sense not to make such comments. But then he remembered that Nanalie's mother had died birthing her youngest and suddenly that wasn't any better. "Er, so... surely you've heard my uncle's thinking about throwing a tournament? Planning on entering?"

He drummed on the desk, fighting to keep a grimace in place as his brothers-in-law took their sweet time answering. Too much time.

And after all that--two shakes of the head.

"If I'm going to get that messy, I'd hope to have a better reason than some vanity contest of brute strength."

"And you think I'd risk this pretty face? What does that leave my poor extended family to refresh their eyes with after a glimpse at my sister's husband?"

His father-in-law's forehead collided with his open hand. Garrett could relate to the sentiment. "Really, nobody likes winners' purses any more?"

"What's the point? It'll just go to Casimiro or Ashe or Neilor anyway. Or Isidro, if he forgets his helmet and the mere sight of his ugly face scares his opponents right off their horses." Lonriad shrugged, planting a kiss on his little son's head before steering right back to the conversation Garrett had been trying to avoid. "What about you? Is your new little mite going to be able to see his daddy fight before he has the chamberpot figured out?"

For Christ's sake, if the next phrase out of your mouth isn't--

"Oh, hello Valira."

That hadn't been quite what he was thinking. Regardless, Garrett swallowed back some misplaced nerves and turned his head. His sister had indeed emerged from the birthing room.

And not unaccompanied.

Whatever the hell they'd been talking about forgotten, Garrett scrambled to his feet. "Nanalie--"

"She's fine." Valira gestured for him with a jerk of her chin. "Get over here."

Relieved and grateful beyond the point where disagreement was possible, Garrett did as he was told. Not that he needed to be told.

A little face stared at him: tiny baby lips in a half-imagined smile, a nose far cuter than whatever horror he'd braced himself for, eyes that were his own but somehow better. He hadn't expected this calm so soon. He'd been caught off guard. He was in love.

"Hello." He stepped forward and ventured a small wave; hazel eyes followed his hand. "I'm your papa."

The baby blinked. Valira propped up the little bundle for a better look at Garrett's face; this one had missed out on big brother Karlspan's newborn fear of large noses. "You're just adorable, you sweet little... uh, what--?"

Valira smirked. "She's a girl."

"A girl!" His heart somersaulted. Not sure how he wasn't bouncing off the walls, he glanced at his little son on the floor. "Here that, Karl? You have a little sister."

Karlspan dropped his doll, beaming. "Yay!"

"'Yay' indeed! Did Nanalie name her, or...?"

Valira nodded. "She wants to name her after her mother, if that's all right with you."

"Of course! Isn't this great, everyone? Now we have one of each." And he cemented that fact with a kiss to his daughter's brow. Nanalie was alive. Karlspan was glad to be a big brother. And the baby--his little Honora--was the sweetest little girl he'd ever seen. It was nothing like Karlspan's birth, what ought to have been a celebration marred by poor Elhina's fate, what he'd kept trying and trying and failing to tell himself would not happen to Nanalie as well. He did not think he'd ever been happier. He did not think he ever could be happier. Surely this was the pinnacle of happiness. How could it not be?

What could possibly make him any happier?

"Um... Garrett?"

It was his father-in-law--still quiet but no longer tense, calm and perhaps a little amused. But of course he would be. He had a new granddaughter, after all. "I'm not sure that's quite correct."

Eh? "Sorry, I don't quite--" Behind Adonis, a mischievous Searle gestured to the door.

Huh. Perhaps it was possible to be happier. "She didn't look that big."

"She is a tricky one, my sister." Mindful of Garrett's third child--holy shit, he had three children!--Asalaye kicked the door shut behind her. "You're lucky that they don't look the same."

Garrett took a minute to glance back and forth between the babies. It was true that they weren't identical--or even alike, really, despite being equally beautiful. They both had his eyes and they both wore them better, and they both had a few wispy strands of similarly brown hair, but that was where the similarities ended. There was the tiniest hint of a bump in the bridge of Honora's nose, and perhaps slightly more definition in the other's chin, and maybe some difference in the overall shape of the face. That would be more than enough.

Well, except... "So, this one--"

His sister and sister-in-law shared a giggle before responding in time. "Girl."

"Then we'll name this one for my mother. Hear that, Karl?" Garrett didn't have to look at his son to know the little mite was smiling. "You have two little sisters!"

"Yay, yay!"

And if ever Garrett needed two words to sum up this day, he couldn't think of any more fitting than those.

Yay, yay.

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