In Which Farilon Gets an Apology

November 18, 1181

There was little Farilon was less inclined to do than to wait at the door for expected company, especially if he dreaded seeing the adult half of the arriving party--which seemed to be any time children and adults were expected in even numbers. But today was his niece's birthday, and not only was she the only one who ever wanted to see him, but it so figured that she and her parents and brother were the last to show up; waiting with his mother was a better alternative than enduring everyone else at once.

Of course, if he was waiting for Yvanette, that also meant he was waiting for Rona, and he had mixed feelings about that. She'd been the frostiest with him at first, but over time, starting when she'd been pregnant with Darry, they'd forged an odd bond of mutual confusion and misery, a somber connection that Abrich and Xeta and of course Lorn couldn't fathom. Odd as it was, Rona had been his closest sibling for the better part of the year.

Now, he supposed he ought to have been happy for her, but every minute he spent with her now was a tiresome eternity. He rarely saw her without Ashe, and only ever for a few minutes at a time, then his brother-in-law would show up again and they'd be lost in their own little world of second honeymoon bliss, leaving Farilon with nothing to do but to look on in his uncomfortable gloom. At least his mother had been sympathetic when he'd told her what the matter was; she had told him to try to understand, but she'd promised to mention something to Rona and Ashe.

Surely she hadn't wanted to, though. From what he understood, it had been years since his mother had seen Rona so full of life. It had been selfish of him to say a thing.

But at least today, they could all be focused on the kids. Even Rona and Ashe had to redirect at least some of their attention to their little girl, three years old today. And little Darry would need ample attention too, because what small child could stand being overshadowed by a sibling?

Finally, a couple pairs of boots shuffled in the front room. Farilon's mother smiled. "Oh, good."

"Sorry that we're so late," Rona crossed the sitting room threshold, Darry in her arms and Ashe right behind her, Yvanette in his. She flashed both Farilon and their mother a quick smile and Ashe nodded in turn; Darry didn't look up, but Yvanette gave a tired wave. "I was a little sick."

Not unexpected. He wondered if she knew that she was pregnant yet.

His mother seemed to at least guess. "Feeling better now, though?"

"Yes, much." She'd answered their mother, but her eyes fell on Farilon. That talk must have occurred already. He did notice Ashe making a point not to smile. Even the kids seemed a little subdued. "These two tired themselves out, though. Yvanette was too excited about her birthday to sleep last night, and of course she kept Darry up too."

"Well, maybe some cake will perk them up."

Mid-yawn, Yvanette piped up just a little. Darry, probably a little young for the concept of cake, drooled on Rona's veil. She wiped his mouth with a loving thumb, then resumed studying Farilon. What had his mother told her? He didn't need this much of her attention.

Ashe nodded in response to his mother-in-law's offer. "I think we've kept everyone else waiting long enough. A round of cake for all?"

"Probably two rounds. The cooks went a little overboard," she added with a wink for Darry. Grandma's boy as always, he turned away from his mother and reached instead for Farilon's.

"Sick of me, I see," Rona teased as she handed the boy over. "But you do give him cake, so I suppose I understand."

Ashe chuckled. "He hasn't tried cake yet."

"Well, he can try it tonight. At the rate his teeth are growing in, we'd best introduce him to solid foods anyway."

"It's good," Yvanette assured her brother as their father and grandmother carried them into the corridor, Farilon and Rona trailing behind. Ashe rounded the corner first, then Farilon's mother. Then, though not particularly keen to rejoin the others, Farilon himself went for it.

But something was holding him back. "...Rona?"

No sooner than he'd turned around, her arms had snapped around him, face buried in his shoulder. She wasn't still sick, was she? Or still a little sad? Even if he missed her companionship, he didn't want her to be sad...

"I'm sorry, brother."

Oh, no. She didn't think... "Rona--"

"I'm sorry I was so awful to you. I was... really confused for a very long time. About everything." She stood on her toes and turned her head just far enough to kiss him on the cheek, then slumped back down. "Can you forgive me?"

She hadn't been awful. Not what he'd call 'awful', at least. But maybe it was too much to ask anyone else to understand. "It's all right."

"Thank you." She gave him another kiss, then took to moving the hand between his shoulder blades counter-clockwise, massaging him as she had when he'd been barely old enough to remember her doing so. His other siblings had never bothered with that. "I really hope you can be happy soon."

He supposed he appreciated the thought. But he didn't see it making a difference, so he just stood there and let her hold him a while longer.

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