In Which Neilor Learns the Trick to Fate

December 13, 1180

Neilor del Marinos did not live in the most aesthetically pleasing of castles, and for the most part, he didn't mind. It was more than large enough for himself and Landus and the servants, even more than large enough for all of them when Ellona and her children had been living there. It was structurally sound and designed with defense in mind. The location was reasonable--not set with any splendid features, but it came with plenty of good farmland and wasn't far from any convenience besides. And it was comfortable enough at the most utilitarian of levels, floors neither too hard nor too soft, furniture perfectly useable, neither too warm in the summer nor too cool in the winter. It served his purposes. It didn't have to be beautiful.

But it was not all that often that Neilor was granted an opportunity to enter his bedchamber and fail to notice its bleak plainness. Welcome distractions were few and far between--much less, seated in full view of the door in all their strawberry blond, violet-eyed glory. "You're a long way from home on your birthday."

"Sweet of you to remember." The corner of Tivie's mouth curved upward. "But if we're defining 'home' as either birthplace or childhood residence, you're not exactly close yourself."

Neilor granted her the courtesy of a quick chuckle. With his birthplace and childhood home, he didn't care for either definition, but it occurred to him that he lacked a better one. It had always been easier to assume there was no such thing as belonging. "What are you doing here, Tivie?"

She rocked back in her seat before she stood, hands to arms of the chair as if she needed the extra force. She didn't. She was force in and of herself and he loved that. "My mother sent me. Be warned--I brought a lot of luggage."

"So you mean to stay a while." She nodded. It was his turn to smirk. "I thought you were supposed to be grounded forever."

"Actually, my mother's words were 'until the birth of my first child'. That could very well be nine months from now if we end up giving your mattress another good workout."

She winked, the violet of one eye somehow just as bright as that of two. He supposed it had been a while since that mattress had gotten any exercise. "Your eyes would look cute on a baby."

"As long as it didn't get the freckles." Neilor opened his mouth to disagree, but was preemptively silenced by a kiss. An unfamiliar burning sensation raged across the inner layers of his face. Great. The last thing he needed was some sporadic, intermittent fever. "Hmm. Your blushing clashes with your hair."

"I don't blush."

"Maybe ask a mirror if it agrees." And so the fire spread. Whatever it was, he hoped it wasn't contagious. Hardly seemed polite to greet a guest by passing along some uncomfortable ailment. "Do you mind if we take lunch a little early? I haven't eaten yet today."

Neilor shook his head. "We'll eat whenever you want. You still haven't told me why you're here, though."

"I did tell you. My mother sent me."

That was akin to answering with a question. "Why?"

"Honestly? I'm guessing she was just bored." The words were almost laughed. If Lady Danthia was anything like her daughter, Neilor supposed he could believe it. "We were sitting around a couple weeks ago, mending some old baby things for my new brother or sister--one of the dullest activities in the world, by the way, so you ought to thank your lucky stars every day that you'll never be expected to do that--"

"Eh. Just between you and me, I mend my own clothes all the time." He blinked at his own nerve. He'd never told anyone that before and Tivie's eyes betrayed a certain shock, though not of the sort he might have expected. More like the sort one found upon stumbling into a goldmine. "But enough about that. Go on."

"Right. Well, we were about halfway through the pile when Mother looks up at me and says 'Tivie, go to Naroni and get that boy'. I'm assuming she meant you, so here I am. So..." She cocked her head to the side and broke into a grin. "What do you say?"

What could he say? He hadn't dared expect to see her again; fate wasn't that kind. Or maybe the trick to fate was to play hard to get. "Um... are you proposing to me?"

"Well, I was proposing that we put that mattress to good use, both before and after that lunch--and perhaps during, if you're not averse to eating in bed." She winked again, freckled hands landing on his shoulders with a comforting firmness. "But I guess we could get married too, if you like. I wasn't planning on doing anything better for my birthday."

Eh. He didn't have any other plans for the afternoon either. He looped one hand behind her knees and swept her up as she clung to his neck. "All right. First one, then the other."

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