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March 3, 1203
"Are you out of your damn mind?"
Ashe's experience with parenthood had not been free of occasions that would merit his asking such a question, but he'd always held it back before. As a general rule, his children's poor decisions were more dangerous to themselves than they were to other people, and such behaviors tended to be symptoms of some more serious issue that needed to be addressed, something personal and deep-seeded like Yvanette's anxieties or Aspen's reckless interpretation of purpose. His children, for the most part, weren't cruel--and to that, Darry was no exception.
But whether Darry himself was cruel or not, whether he'd meant to be cruel or not, the fact was that his actions had been. "Begging me to let you put one sister in a setting she's not ready for, insisting that you'd keep an eye one her, convincing me that it would be in her better interests--just so you could get another sister and some man drunk enough to get married? Why the hell would you do that? Don't you care about your sisters at all?"
"Obviously! I wouldn't have bothered if I didn't." His son's scowl widened with every syllable, cross-armed stance tightening in furious sync with the tug of his mouth. "No reason I gave Aspen was good enough for her to stay, so I gave her Nato. I'm not pleased that I was too preoccupied with Aspen to keep Celina from having more drink than she could handle, but she was still with me all night and she'll be fine and I'm not sorry. Excuse me for not wanting Aspen to more or less run off and kill herself."
"And marrying her off against her will was meant to prevent that? Jesus Christ, Darry! All you did was take yourself off of any list of reasons she might have stayed!"
"Nato isn't just some random stranger, you know. Aspen loves him! And he loves her, if you haven't been paying any attention. The only people who didn't know that were Aspen and Nato." Darry gritted his teeth, a low hiss shoving through like he was holding back a growl. "And you, apparently. She'll stay for him, but neither of them would have figured that out."
"My God! Are you even listening to yourself?" How had that idiot Falidor heard all of this with a calm ear and thought it a plan worthy aiding? How had Darry managed to convince someone to get Nato to the party before someone with a shred of sense could have found and revealed the plot? The only way Ashe could push those questions aside was to thank God that at least his new son-in-law hadn't been a conspirator himself. "It doesn't matter how they feel about each other! What matters is how they feel about what happened and how--and given that Aspen's locked herself up at Capricorn House and Nato's mother says he's been destroying training dummies all morning, clearly neither are happy about it! What did you think would happen, Darry? That Nato would insist she stay like some brutish husband and Aspen would be oh-too-happy to oblige? If you thought Nato was that sort, then you have no right to think you were doing Aspen a favor."
"That's a bold jab, coming from the man who won my mother in a tournament."
That did it. Darry was far too old for a cuff to the head, and Ashe had never thought it right to cuff him anyway. But twenty-two was no worse than any other age for a grab of the arm and a firm yank inward, nor did petty jeers or steadfast lack of repentance deserve any better. "You don't know a damn thing about your mother and me, or anything we've been through--but suffice to say that our official relationship didn't start well, and it took one hell of a lot to fix that. With Aspen graduating at the end of the month, she and Nato don't have the time for that amount of fixing--and if she's anything like her mother, the first thing she'll want is to be far away from here. Don't think I haven't sent guards to campus already in case she tries to leave tonight."
"She's not going to leave! She won't waste all that tuition spent by running off mere weeks before she graduates. Besides, they consummated the marriage; she knows there's no going back after that, and it won't take her long to figure out that she doesn't want to anyway."
"She already planned to waste that tuition by running off right after! And you can end a consummated marriage--in absentia. And unlike you, Nato might just respect Aspen's agency enough not to run after her."
"So that's it? You've just given up on your own daughter? Her agency means more than her life?"
"That's it! You don't get to make any assumptions about how I feel about any of this--and not just because that tiny brain of yours couldn't handle the complexities." And now, in addition to everything else that Darry couldn't handle, he had half a mind to toss his firstborn son out a tower window. "Go apologize to your sisters, and to your mother, and to Nato and his parents and everyone else you've left to clean up your mess. And don't let me see your face again before you've done that."
NEXT CHAPTER:
August 27, 1201
Whatever half-hearted platitudes Sevvie uttered, Yvanette's ears fell deaf. The only sounds she knew were the echoes in her head. Her frantic scratching against the floor as she fought to change back in time. Her son's desperate first breaths as she freed him from the surrounding membrane. Her own tears as they hit the floor, when she turned back and he did not.
Her baby. In the first second of his life, she had failed him. She'd failed him the moment he'd been conceived. Why hadn't she gone to Aerina Frey for herbs when she'd had the chance? It would have been a mercy.
"They should be back soon."
Yvanette choked. Did it even matter when they returned? If nothing could be done...
No. She wanted her baby--but more than that, she wanted to think, to hope, that there was the slightest chance of him being all right. As long as they were gone, she had that.
If they returned, and her baby--
"Yvanette?"
Her father's voice. Did she dare--?
"Yvanette, it's all right. He's fine. He's back to normal."
Her father was not a liar, but she had to look to believe it.
Her boy was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.
"He... he's all right." More than all right. "He's amazing..."
"He looks like you when you were a baby, actually." Her father handed him off to her and stepped back. Had she dared dream of this since she'd first begun to suspect his existence? Her healthy, human son in her arms? "Darker hair, though. And Lonriad said he couldn't be certain, but he thinks those must be Asalaye's grandmother's eyes, based on something her father said once."
Who cared whose eyes they were? So long as they were living eyes.
"All he said was turquoise blue, Ashe; no need to sound so cryptic about it."
Her father-in-law. And...
...her baby?
"Wait, why do you have...?"
"Yvanette!"
"Sevvie?" Surely she was hallucinating anyway. Her son still clutched tightly, she spun back to the sight of her husband.
And an even more baffling companion than her baby's kitten form.
What did Deian do?
NEXT CHAPTER:
August 27, 1201
"You know, I can't remember the last time I heard someone was looking for me and it didn't turn out to be you two." Deian's rocky features squirmed in disgust, but not without some hint of sadistic pleasure. Whatever he truly felt about their presence, Ashe didn't have any worry to waste on Deian. He and Lonriad had made for the forest in silence, the sounds of the wind and the leaves and the mewing grandchild in Ashe's hands more than enough conversation.
If anyone could restore the baby's human form, it would have been Deian. And, frankly--Deian had to be able to. If he couldn't, Yvanette would never forgive herself for the fate of her child.
Nor would Ashe forgive himself for the fate of his.
"Look, we don't have the patience for your shit right now." Thank God for Lonriad's dauntless, stupid boldness. "Yvanette--"
"Gave birth to that kitten." Deian yawned. "She's lucky, really. You humans have the hardest time of labor; I'd guess that shooting this tiny thing out of a cat's cunt would be more akin to defecating."
"Never mind the labor! Can you make it human again, or not?"
"Do you really want me to? Think of how easy this thing would be compared to a human baby. It would probably have a better life, too, judging by what wrecks the rest of you are."
"That doesn't matter. It's a human baby." Even if its tail hung between the gap of his hands. Even if its hind claws dug into the his palms, if each individual fur asserted itself on his fingertips. Ashe could no more betray his daughter by believing her firstborn a cat than he could push the sun back eastward and make the day begin anew. "Isn't a human supposed to live as a human? Even if by some fluke it happened to be born something else?"
"Hmm." Smirking, Deian ran a narrowed gaze down Ashe's form from top to bottom. Christ, those eyes might as well have been unwanted fondling fingers. "Is that the sentiment you soothe yourself to sleep with, little girl?"
"Hey!" Lonriad's bark was enough to jerk Deian's focus back to him as Ashe sought refuge in the sight of his grandchild's borrowed body. How small and cold a body it was. How fat and healthy the child might have been from a mother who'd had a father other than him. "You shut your fucking mouth about that. If you haven't lived it, you don't get to say what's what."
"And that's the tone you take with someone you want performing magic on your grandchild?"
"When that someone is you? Don't be surprised."
Ashe looked down at the baby again. Who cared what the hell he was, or what Lonriad thought he was or what Deian thought he was. All he wanted to be just then was someone with a happy daughter and a healthy grandchild. "It's fine, Lonriad. I don't care what he says about me. I just want him to help the baby."
"Ashe--"
"No. I want to go back to Yvanette with good news. I don't want to think about what she'll do to herself if we don't." A rudimentary purr rocked the tiny spine, its shiver amplified on the joints of his hand. A baby, in want of its mother. A mother, in fear for her baby. The rest of the world could have been on fire and it would have meant nothing to him. "Deian, I'll never ask anything of you again if that's what you want, but please do this. Please. Just save my..." It occurred to him that he hadn't checked. He took one hind paw between his thumb and forefinger and pried the legs just far enough apart to see what was between. "...my grandson."
Deian studied him again, frown firm. Then, he sighed. "You used to be much more fun to play with, you know that? Fine. I do know one way I can help--but, given that this is your daughter's energy at play here, I should warn you that it might affect her too."
Then--no. No... it was Yvanette's decision. She'd made it in a trembling whisper as she'd placed her son in his hands. "She said-- she said she wanted you to do whatever it took."
Lonriad, probably more on what would have been Sevvie's side--and Ashe's side too, if he were honest--of placing Yvanette as the higher priority, gave a reluctant kick to the ground with the toe of his boot. But, he said nothing. Perhaps placing Yvanette as the higher priority was more about respecting her wishes than anything else.
"All right, then. Now, I can't make the cat aspect go away, exactly--but I can separate it from the body, providing that the mother has exercised her powers enough by this point. If she hasn't, I suppose we could try again some other time. Though, granted, I'm just speculating in regards to Yvanette's case, since this is really only done on lycanthropes, but... well, I suppose we'll just pat ourselves on the back and call it science, shall we?" Deian winked. Eyes like that weren't much more accommodating solo than they were in pairs. "Any chance either of you are aware of the concept of a familiar?"
NEXT CHAPTER:
November 18, 1199
"You look beautiful." Ashe stepped back from his oldest daughter's arms and smiled. He would have known Yvanette anywhere, but he didn't quite fathom how that tiny baby he'd once held with a new father's clumsy grasp and the radiant young bride in front of him were the same person. Had it really been so long since Yvanette had been little? How much had he missed every time he'd blinked?
"Thank you, Father." Yvanette smoothed down the white velvet of her skirt--probably not the most atypical gesture of a young woman on her wedding day, wanting to look her best, but there was something in the tension of her wrist that struck him. "I'm still not sure about the blue trim, to be honest."
"Well, that's your call--but it does bring out your eyes."
"I suppose. Too late to change it now, anyway."
Hmm. It was--but she sounded almost... bitter? Ashe frowned. Cold feet usually weren't much to be concerned about, at least he'd gathered from what quasi-outsiders like him could glean from social spheres like Rona's family's, but the manner about his daughter wasn't nervous or panicked; it was resigned, frustrated, equal parts dread and the need to get a unpleasant task over with. He'd thought she'd cared for Sevvie. He'd seen how he was with her, the way she looked at him.
Had he been wrong?
"Yvanette, if you're having second thoughts--"
She shook her head. "I... I don't know. Maybe I care too much about Sevvie to tie him down."
"Oh." He could understand that--sort of. He'd been in that position with Rona once. But, back then, Rona hadn't known her own position. There wasn't a garden pest on Lonriad's castle grounds that didn't know Sevvie's. "I think anyone who knows Sevvie would be quick to tell you that he's spent the past few years thinking of little else than life with you."
"Is that fair, though? You know I can't add much to his life--not in the ways he's bound to want in the long run."
"If it isn't, then I still don't think you have any more claim to the fairness of life than Sevvie does." Ashe sighed. If Yvanette couldn't give Sevvie the life he deserved, then that was because Ashe couldn't have done the same for Yvanette. She didn't fully know that; perhaps she and her siblings deserved to, but neither he nor Rona knew what to tell them. "But I wouldn't equate being normal with being happy. Most normal people in the world probably bore themselves to misery."
Yvanette bit her lip--probably just because she didn't want to argue with him mere minutes before he walked her down the aisle. "Maybe."
"Don't worry about Sevvie. He loves you to pieces, and he doesn't have a resentful bone in his body." He pulled his daughter into another hug, having to remind himself just in time to be mindful of her hair. "And if it doesn't work out, you know you'll always have a home with your mother and me, or with any of your siblings if we're gone. It would be only a matter of time in this kingdom before the public had something better to gossip about than a knight's divorce, after all."
NEXT CHAPTER:
April 20, 1190
"So... umm..."
Lonriad laughed. Rona--like most normal-ish people--would have known how to ask, but she hadn't felt up to coming to see the baby today. That left Ashe and his undecided mumbling. Good thing that Lonriad had enough children by this point to know what the first thing most people asked was. "He's a boy. His name is Kaydren, but Morgan's taken to calling him Kay and the rest of us have caught on, even though my father keeps shaking his head at the repetition of syllables."
"What repetition?"
"You know. Kay Kemorin."
Ashe's head jerked up, mouth folded in puzzlement. Lonriad hadn't expected that. "Wait, the first syllable in your surname is pronounced 'kay'?"
"You don't know how to pronounce my surname? You're the worst best friend ever!"
"You nobles never say your surnames! I'm used to seeing it in writing."
"You ought to know that words aren't always pronounced as they're spelt. Hell, your own wife's full name starts with a silent 'W'."
"Fine, fine, fair point. But it's going to take me a while to adjust to not thinking 'Keh-mor-in' in my head." Ashe sighed. "Anyway, how's Morgan doing?"
"She's tired, but happy." And no doubt relieved after what had happened to her first baby. That poor little girl. "She was a bit worried about how Viridis would take it, not being used to sharing a mama and all. Luckily, my girls have been keeping her sufficiently distracted."
"And Searle's been... uh, better?"
Ah, God. Searle. That poor, strange kid. "Yes, I think he's realized that there are boundaries--and now that Kay's here, he's at least leaving Morgan alone. He's more fascinated with the baby now, and of course he likes every scrap of attention he can get, like his papa and uncles."
"That's no surprise. You're lucky enough that Sevvie managed to dodge that blood, so don't count on having another son with a sense of restraint."
"Lucky for you, maybe--since he's your future son-in-law and all." He choked back a smirk as Ashe shuddered. "Though hey--if it turns out that Rona's carrying a girl, maybe this one will be too."
"Arydath thinks it's a boy."
"Ah, that's just as well. Lonriad bowed his head to his little son and kissed him on the forehead. "Morgan and I need to get our fill of him before we marry him off anyway."
NEXT CHAPTER:
March 18, 1189
"Really?" Rona leaned forward in her seat, grimace sinking. "Huh. I won't pretend to know Morgan very well, but she's always struck me as... content, I suppose."
A little queasy, Vera nodded. There was a lot to be said about the ability to keep one's cool, but Morgan had taken everything in stride for too long. Hell--even Vera wouldn't have guessed anything was wrong if Morgan hadn't told her. And she'd lived with her for years now! "She's grown restless with contentment. She spends most of her life helping other people, and she's so independent that it's difficult for anyone else to know how to help her. Not that it's a bad thing to be independent, but..."
"But she needs a bit of a break."
"Exactly."
Should she have been talking about this, though? Rona had said it herself, after all: she didn't know Morgan well. If Vera had to discuss Morgan with someone, shouldn't it have been Lucien or Cherry or Lettie? Rona was only here because both sets of children had been in need of a play date, because Vera still had an extra crib from the twins that little Celina could nap in, because Lonriad had wanted to go look at hunting dogs with Ashe, and Vera's house was close enough to the kennel to make a good meeting place. Delicate conversations were not the purpose of the visit.
But Vera, apparently, had grown worried enough that she'd ask just about anyone.
"She needs to have some fun. And maybe she's grown to used to spending time with people who are a lot like her. There's nothing wrong with that, of course, but maybe she needs someone complimentary. They could balance each other out."
Why had Rona looked over at her husband when she'd said it? "Rona, I don't know if Morgan's looking for romance."
"Perhaps not. But if she should happen to stumble upon it, surely that would ease her burdens somewhat? Little Viridis would have a father, and they'd have two incomes, and she'd have more time to work on her writing and pursue some other things that make her happy."
"Well, maybe. But I don't think she's looking for just--"
A loose stair creaked. Ashe managed to jump the opportunity. "Hello, Morgan."
"Hello." Morgan cleared the last few steps and greeted the couple with a forced smile. She hadn't heard much, had she? It wasn't as if anything nasty had been said, but still--it wasn't any of their business. "Celina and Renata were stirring a little, so I lent them a few of Viridis's stuffed animals."
"Sweet of you, but you're not a nanny." Rona gestured to the seat beside Vera. "Please, join us."
"All right." Morgan strode over and took the chair. Vera wondered if Rona had anticipated what she said next. "What are we talking about?"
"Oh, just idle chatter before my brother gets here," Vera half-lied. Across the table, Rona's eyes lit. "He and Ashe are going to look at some hunting dogs."
"Oh!" Rona sprung from her slouch in mock-alarm--much to Ashe's surprise, Morgan's puzzlement, and Vera's horror. "Oh, no! I'm sorry, darling, but you can't accompany Lonriad today. I just remembered!"
Ashe, of course, did not. "Remembered what?"
"Dinner with my mother and stepfather, remember?" Surely, even Lady Celina and Sir Ovrean hadn't 'remembered'. "We'll have to round up the children and leave fairly soon if we don't want to be late."
"Are you sure it's tonight? Because I think I would have considered that when Lonriad--"
"Of course it's tonight! How could I have forgotten? My mother even sent a messenger over yesterday!"
"I don't recall a messenger--"
"You were busy." Rona stared at him, brows arched, willing it to be true. Or true enough.
"I don't--"
"What's going on here?"
In through the front door stepped Lonriad. Vera swallowed. Her brother, she'd been told--she never would have thought so on her own--was a handsome man, tall and silky-haired and olive-skinned. As he brushed his shoulder, his wedding band flashed. Its twin was six feet beneath the ground, but it had been long enough that a second marriage would not be untoward. And he was young enough that it would not be unnecessary.
Damn it, Rona! "Just waiting for you, brother. Nothing else."
"Oh, if only!" Rona practically danced out of her chair, slippers skipping against the floorboards as she moved to greet Lonriad with a hug.
"I must apologize, Lonriad, but I'm afraid there's been an oversight."
"What sort of oversight? Did poor Lemons hit her head and gain a personality fit for a hunting dog?"
"If only!" Rona laughed. "You see, it completely slipped my mind that Ashe and I are supposed to dine with my parents tonight, so I'm afraid he won't have time to browse the kennels with you."
"Really?"
"I could go with you," Vera offered as a saving grace. Surely Rona's meddling was the last thing either Morgan or Lonriad needed.
"Sweet of you to offer, Vera, but you'll be up all night with your lesson plan if you go." Rona winked at her--oblivious, apparently, to the intent behind that statement. Oblivious, or dismissive.
"You know," Ashe mused, rising from his own seat, "it's not that late in the day.
"Maybe if we go now and don't stay long--ow!"
He grabbed his arm and massaged, annoyed. Rona shook her head. "My mother wanted us there early, remember?"
Ashe opened his mouth to say something, but Lonriad beat him to it. "Ah, it's just as well. Come to think of it, I'd better keep my money away from the kettle master until his son apologizes to Adonis anyway."
"Of course you should." Did Rona think Vera didn't noticed the giddy sway in her stance? Did she think Morgan didn't notice? "But the afternoon needn't be a total waste. Perhaps Morgan would care for a walk around the village? She probably hasn't had any fresh air today."
Lonriad shrugged. "I suppose that's not the worst idea in the world. Care to get away from these lunatics for a while, Morgan?"
If not to the idea, Morgan was at least amiable to the phrasing. "Please."
NEXT CHAPTER:
October 26, 1188
"Wait, what?" Darry's father cringed. Maybe he ought to have mentioned the trees sooner. "This started in June?"
"Um. Yes." Darry rocked side to side. There hadn't been too much urgency--at least he could ignore the trees, unlike Yvanette and her cat transformations--but his parents had said to tell them if anything out of the ordinary started happening to him. He guessed they'd meant 'immediately'.
"Sorry. I didn't want to worry Mama while she was expecting, and you looked like you needed something else to think about after the ladies rushed in."
"It's fine. Just... we worry about you kids." And with what Yvanette went through, Darry guessed he understood that.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't worry too much about it. But thank you for telling me. We can tell your mother once she's recovered from your sister's birth."
Another sister? But he already had two of those, and only one brother. Besides, the baby wasn't even born yet! "How do you know it's a sister?"
"Magic." He didn't say any more. He never did when magic came up. "Sit down, Darry."
He did as he was told. His father slung an arm around him and rubbed his shoulder. "Maybe keep this to the family for now, all right? For the sake of your siblings' privacy. Yvanette doesn't want anyone knowing about her condition, and who knows about any of others, so it's best that we keep the speculation at bay."
"All right. It's not too interesting a power anyway. All the trees do is insult people."
"Maybe." Yet, his father's fingers tensed against his arms. "Who knows what they've seen, though."
NEXT CHAPTER:
March 27, 1188
"How are you holding up?" Rona stepped back out of the hug, hand still on Lonriad's arm. She knew perfectly well how her brother-in-law fared. The truth was, Jadin likely didn't have more than a week. She'd spent much of the year so far comforting her sister--and today, when Xeta wanted time alone with Jadin and the children--her first instinct had been to check in on Jadin's brothers and sisters. They'd left Riona's castle only to head straight to Lonriad's.
Ashe was too well-acquainted with Rona to be oblivious to her faults. He knew she could be selfish and histrionic, and he knew there were those who found her tiresome for it. But unlike him, those people hadn't seen much of a her loving side. They didn't get to see her with Yvanette in her lap, stroking her tear-stained curls after one of her episodes. They didn't get to see her with Darry and a black eye, Aspen and a wounded bird, Dally and a torn stuffed toy.
Nor did they get to see her with Xeta and her family, being a rock for them all day, then coming home to Ashe and crying herself to sleep in his arms, making him promise to live forever even though he could never keep that vow.
"I'm all right, I guess. Jadin's still up to joking around, so it's still fun seeing him. Even though it's sad."
His mouth smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. Ashe's gut knotted. Over the past decade, he'd grown far too used to Lonriad being the one comforting him. He didn't know how to proceed now, being on the other side.
"Jadin's a good man. And a fun man." For all Jadin was the one dying, he himself was the biggest comfort his loved ones could ask for. "Like his little brother."
"I guess he did teach me well." He gave up on the grin. Grief did add a certain heaviness to the lips. "You know, I never thought I'd feel nostalgic about all the times he put spiders in my bed. Maybe I'll put some in Donnie's as a tribute."
"I'm sure Jadin would love that," Rona agreed.
"And then I guess I'll take Donnie to a brothel."
"Jadin would love that even more." Jadin had taken all of his other brothers to brothels once they'd been old enough. Never mind everyone else he knew. "I guess that time he dragged me along is a better memory than I give it credit for. His heart was in the right place." And he'd been respectful enough to everyone there. Whatever else people said about Jadin, they couldn't deny that.
"It was." Lonriad's hands fell to his legs one at a time, drumming a mournful little beat. "Still is."
NEXT CHAPTER:
