In Which Lonriad Measures the Luck

September 5, 1181

"So you splurged for a room with the fireplace, I see." It was barely September, but the pouring rains and piercing cold had gotten ahead of themselves. An hour or so after finding an inn and Lonriad still hadn't removed his heavy wool tunic and leather surcoat--and neither had Isidro, despite the crackling hearth in front of him. "Smart bastard. If I don't freeze to death tonight, I'm strangling Ashe in his sleep for being such a tightwad."

"I told you to bring more money."

"Yeah, well, my wife told me otherwise and she sleeps with me." In hindsight, he should have begged Asalaye to come. She'd always been better with money. Plus, of course, then he wouldn't have been missing her. "It better not be raining tomorrow."

"Knowing our luck, it will be." Knowing our luck. Isidro had used that phrase a few times since they'd left his grandfather's place the day before, though the visit had gone... better than Lonriad had expected, and no doubt better than Isidro had too. Just like any other family visit, with the bitter knowledge that the family that seemed to care was not the family who'd raised him. Knowing Isidro's luck indeed. "Did Ashe manage to get all that mud out of his hair?"

And knowing Ashe's luck, he would have been the one whose horse bucked in the middle of what might as well have been a swamp. "Well, the innkeeper's wife just looked at him and said there wasn't enough bathwater in the world. Riona's giving him a haircut right now."

He shut the door and stepped to the fire, hands well in need of a warming. Maybe Ashe would go for a room upgrade once he no longer had that mane of hair for added warmth. "Is Riona any good at that? Does she cut your hair?"

"It stops at around this length."

"Should cut it anyway--thin ends, you know." Not that Isidro was the sort to care. Hell, Lonriad himself probably wouldn't have been if Asalaye never cut his for him. God, he missed her! "I envy you, you know--since your wife came along. Even if I'll never guess what you see in her."

"Missing yours, I take it?"

"So much I might even brave her cooking again!" Not that Asalaye had any illusions about her cooking--hell, she was the first to crack a joke about it! He missed that too. If they'd been traveling in a manner that had allowed for free hands, he would have spent the rest of the return trip listing all the things he loved about her. What better souvenir was there than a record of how one was missed? "But seriously. Lucky."

Isidro grunted--but as Lonriad turned his head, he thought he caught a small smile. "Ah-ha! Either you know you're lucky, or you're imagining the most hilarious and disastrous possible result of Ashe's haircut."

"I think both are givens."

"Of course they are. Especially the latter." And especially the former. "You know... maybe it's just me feeling alone, but I think I might be ready to try for another kid, if Asalaye's feeling up to it." That was a big 'if', and Isidro's raised brow seemed to agree. Still. "A daughter, hopefully. I mean, I love my sons and all, but I think I'd be a good daddy to a little girl."

"I'm sure you would be. Girls are easier than boys." Isidro slouched, nearly slumping off the stool before he remembered at the last second that it had no back. It was Lonriad's turn to stare and frown. "Riona wants a brother for Nato."

Huh. That was... odd. Was Nato even a year old? "Already?"

"No, not yet, but eventually. My grandfather brought it up at some point and she told me later she agreed. I'm still not even sure how to raise one boy." Isidro scuffed a boot across the floor, like Roddie or Falidor whenever they were reminded they weren't so grown-up after all. It wasn't that hard, raising boys--or, it was, but it was the good sort of hard, the rewarding sort of hard. Surely not much different than raising a girl?

Or... "After the way my father raised me, I mean."

"You turned out fine." And Riona had to put up with this every day. Isidro was luckier than he'd ever know. "As for Nato, just do the opposite of what your dad did. Don't be an asshole. Teach him not to be an asshole."

Asalaye's face flashed in front of his eyes again. For Isidro, it must have been Riona. "Teach him to love."

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