In Which Nythran Is and Is Not Impulsive

May 24, 1187

"You know, it occurs to me that I haven't been at my house for a few days."

And it was not the first time in recent months Nythran could have said it. Since he'd finally worked up the nerve to court Cherry, he and Haldred had spent more nights than not at her house. Haldred had more or less taken over one of the spare rooms, and Nythran... was also sleeping in a spare room. As far as anyone else knew, anyway. Though it had been going on long enough that Farilon next door might have been suspicious had this been the sort of thing he paid attention to.

But really? Nythran couldn't pretend to care what Farilon or anyone else might have thought, at least of him personally. For the first time, in a long time, someone other than his son had managed to make him happy.

He was in love.

It wasn't a thing he'd thought he'd feel again.

"Of course you haven't. You still haven't even unpacked since you moved there. Hell, more of your stuff is here than there." Cherry squeeze his hand and turned her head for a quick peck to his stubble. He wasn't sure how her lips could stand it, but she'd stopped him shaving the one time he'd tried. Probably a good thing, given the shape of his chin. "You might as well just give Raia the house back and move in here."

"Tempting, but I'd prefer not to tarnish your reputation." The poor woman got enough questions, being twenty-six and never married. But having been married himself at fourteen--married to a girl only six months older than he, who'd died birthing a baby she may not have been big enough for--twenty-six did not seem too old in the slightest.

"What reputation?" Cherry smirked, a sunfire lock of hair flicking at his hand. "Nythran, it makes no sense, a perfectly good house just sitting there. Raia could give it to someone else."

"I suppose. Still, I'm reluctant to do that to you."

"Sweet of you, but I really don't mind." She didn't--he was sure of it. Still. "What if we got married? Would you move in then?"

Nythran's heart twitched. That wasn't an idea he'd thought he'd hear again. "What are you asking?"

"You heard." Cherry slung her legs across Nythran's thighs and bounced herself into his lap. "Don't embarrass me by saying you've never thought about it."

"I have thought about it." More than anything! But-- "Isn't it a little soon, though? A little impulsive?"

"Not for me, it isn't. I'm almost twenty-seven; if I'd wanted to marry impulsively, I could have done so ten times over by now. I was lucky enough to be raised knowing I didn't need a man, so I held out for one I actually wanted--knew I wanted." She leaned into him, nuzzling the tip of her nose against his own beak. "That's you, silly. I've known I wanted you for a while now."

Huh. He could have lived to be a thousand and not once would he have thought a woman would feel that way about him. Learianna had loved him, and he her, but it had been a different love--a cultivated love, grown from years of childhood friendship and the knowledge that they'd one day be man and wife. Not inherently worse, but different.

Nythran didn't mind different. "I've known I wanted you for a while now too."

"Then let's not wait any longer." The nuzzle slipped down to a kiss, and then she pulled back, beaming. "You and Haldred go home and get on your good tunics. I'll put on my best dress, then grab Farilon to witness, and we'll meet the two of you at the chapel."

He nearly laughed--but there wasn't a joke in her eye. Not that he minded, but hadn't she just said...? "Right now? I thought you didn't want to do this impulsively."

"I said I didn't want an impulsive marriage." She drew herself up from his lap and took him by the hand, pulling him to his feet. "I didn't say anything about an impulsive wedding."

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