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March 17, 1198
"So... what do you think it'll be? Boy? Girl?" Had asked mainly for the sake of asking something. If he'd been asked as a young father who of all the boys he knew would be the most likely other grandfather of his first grandchild, he wouldn't have considered Fenrick Wythleit as a possibility. Fenrick wasn't that much younger than he was, if he forced himself to remember that, but he'd never quite shaken the fact that one of his best childhood friends was this man's stepmother; in that way, he'd somehow lodged Fenrick in mind with the next generation.
This was ridiculous, as there was particularly youthful about Fenrick. Had didn't dislike his daughter-in-law's father, but he struggled to name a more serious, almost grim acquaintance off the top of his head.
"I see no reason to guess. All that matters to me is that my daughter delivers safely."
"Ah, yes, of course." Fenrick did, at least, have his priorities in order. "I didn't mean to imply that anything else mattered more. I was just curious as to whether or not you had an inklings."
"On what could I base an inkling? It's not as if we can see through Geneva's skin and seek the telltale signs."
"Huh. Wouldn't that be something if we could." Had smirked, remembering something Raia had once said about an idea that bats saw by sound. If that same principle could be somehow applied to a developing fetus some day... "Could be useful, knowing beforehand. Then again, I'm sure there are some who'd use that knowledge the wrong way."
Fenrick shrugged. "The same could be said of most knowledge--all about who uses it and how."
"I suppose you're right there. Perhaps for Hal's sake, it would be more immediately useful if we could see through doors." Arydath had had to lock it to keep the silly boy from intruding on the birth--and try as he might, Had hadn't been able to pry him from the keyhole. But better silly boy than a careless husband?
"Can't say I blame him," Fenrick agreed, coming the closest to smiling that Had had ever seen from him. "No one ever told me quite how tough this would be, waiting for my daughter to give birth. It was tough enough waiting for my wife to give birth. You just... you never know when it will go wrong. Knowing for sure that all will be fine? That would be useful prior knowledge."
Had nodded--but, the sight of Fenrick's wife on the stairs, spring in her step and grin on her face, was ample assurance of the favorable outcome. "Eilyssa?"
"Had. Fenrick." She finished her descent and kissed her husband on the cheek. "Geneva did wonderfully. She and the baby are both in excellent health."
Fenrick sighed. "Thank God."
"Definitely." Hal, no doubt, had burst into the room at the first possible second. Winter and Arydath probably stood at the foot of the bed, Winter with a hand over her own growing middle. As for Geneva and the baby, they must have been cuddled up together in the bed, like Lyraina had been with Hal when he was new.
And Had?
Had was a grandfather. Happy as he was, he doubted he'd ever be used to the idea. "Thank God indeed."
Eilyssa traded smiles with him and Fenrick both, then nodded toward the stairs. "Come along, you two. Come and meet your grandson."
NEXT CHAPTER:
April 3, 1178
Fenrick did not typically indulge his niece by being a compliant playmate, but today--as the mourners and well-wishers and passer-by filed out of the house at last--Geneva had taken him by the wrist and dragged him to the toys and he'd followed without protest, even if only halfheartedly. Not that Eilyssa would have expected more than a half-hearted effort. Not with what they said about twins. Poor boy had spent the past three days missing a piece of himself and he was never going to get it back.
Her father had returned home that afternoon just in time to say goodbye before the light in Lornian's little eyes flickered out, just in time to see Celina crawling back into bed, complaining that she was feeling warm again. She barely made it through the next morning.
Now short two siblings, Eilyssa had spent the past couple hours at the side of her stepmother--who was now short two children. She'd scarcely said a word since Lornian had died and even fewer since Celina, but that was fine. Words were insufficient anyway.
"I'll bring Geneva over tomorrow." It wasn't much, but it was something. "I'll bring her every day if you want. She and Fenrick seem to be..." What? 'Having fun' wasn't the right phrase. Fenrick wouldn't be having any fun for a while. But at least he had a focus, sort of. At least he wasn't wondering around mindlessly searching for his twin like he'd been yesterday.
Alsina nodded and Eilyssa took to sharing a glance with her brother, seated nearby. He hadn't spoken much either, but he seemed to be coping better than his mother was. But that was to be expected, wasn't it? It hit the parents worst. If anything were to happen to her own daughter, Eilyssa doubted she'd have the strength to get out of bed.
Her brother had their father's eyes. He had Alsina's eye color, but they way he stared had Aldhein Denvus written all over it. He could speak in stares if words did not suffice, and he was doing that now.
A pity that his mother wasn't looking.
"We could spend the night if you like." That wasn't an imposition, was it? In her head it had sounded like an offer... "You and Father could take a break. Fenrick and I can watch... uh, Fenrick."
It used to be that Alsina would laugh over the name confusion, but nothing was funny today. "Thank you."
Her father's eyes darted from her husband to her and he nodded. Eilyssa's mouth twitched, but she hadn't quite smiled. Her father hadn't either.
She didn't think any of them would be smiling tonight.
NEXT CHAPTER:
April 16, 1175
"Cord!" Perhaps a little more eager than was acceptably ladylike, Riala greeted her friend with a quick hug. Fenrick and Eilyssa and the baby were visiting at her father's house and her other siblings were at their grandmother's and Lord only knew where her mother was. Even the cat had been out on the prowl since morning. She'd been alone all day and a face other than her own reflection was a welcome relief.
Besides, she needed some details. "How did it go? Did you end up asking Asalaye to marry you? What did she say?"
Cord said nothing--odd, seeing as there was nothing he cared to discuss more than Asalaye, and certainly that preference had only strengthened since talk of marriage had begun. Suspicious, Riala lifted herself to her toes for a better view of his face. Of course he'd said nothing. His eyes answered every question.
Badly, No, and Nothing, because of the last answer.
"So... Old Man Indruion didn't budge, then?"
Cord's head fell to incline, his fist balled to steady its shaking. She'd never seen him like this--strong Cord, tall Cord, Cord the rock. He was a man on the verge of falling apart and she wouldn't be enough to hold him together. "Not if Nanalie wasn't going to get an offer first."
So not a single one of those boys had come through for him. Cowards. Ingrates. Cord had been running favors all week, anything to get the tiniest chance of cooperation from any of them--and unbeknownst to him, Riala had thrown in her own brand of persuasion too--and it had all been in vain.
And what was wrong with Nanalie anyway? Sure, she wasn't the most personable of people... but she had worked hard and had a good head on her shoulders and might not have been anything horrible to look at if she tried a little harder. Most of those boys could have done much worse--and besides, she might not have even said yes!
"Oh Cord, I'm so sorry." The shaking in his hand intensified somewhat; not sure what else she could do, she steadied it with her own. "I can't believe that not one man asked her."
His fist tensed within her grasp as a tortured sigh escaped him. It was alarming. Cord was not the sort of man who sighed lightly. "One man did."
"And yet, he--oh!" What had she been about to say? Something about Master Indruion going back on his word? That had been dumb. Cord would have found a way to get past that. Stupid, stupid, stupid! "Oh Cord! Why did you do that?"
Why had she asked that? It was obvious. "I thought she'd say no."
Poor boy. His only crime had been falling in love with the second sister and a marriage of convenience was too harsh a punishment. But he knew that--obviously. And there was little he could do now without looking like an insensitive ass who withdrew proposals like lots in a game of dice. He was just here to sit, most likely, to talk while she listened. Or maybe he wouldn't talk at all. Maybe he just wanted someone to hold his hand for a little while, to lend him the strength he never thought he'd lack.
Nodding, Riala pulled him up the stairs and ushered him into her mother's bedroom. It was the warmest room in the house, the coziest--and for once it was unoccupied. She gestured for him to take a seat on the bench by the foot on the bed, then closed the door and joined him.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Is there much point?" He slouched into a drawn-out collapse, elbows to his legs, catching his forehead with the palm of his hand. "I may be just a pig farmer, but I'm a man of my word. If I asked Nanalie to marry me and she accepted, then I suppose I have to. I'll marry her and go through life with her and have babies with her, and Asalaye will see me all the time and hate me forever."
"You don't know that for sure." Of course it was the strongest possibility... but that wasn't necessarily a guarantee, was it? "Have you had a chance to talk to her yet?"
Cord shook his head. "Why would she ever want to talk to me again?"
It was a stretch, but she had to give him something. A good friend would give him something. "...closure?"
He sniffed. Poor boy. He'd never wanted to give Asalaye 'closure'. He'd hoped what they had would never need it. So much for all of that now. "I... I don't think I want to talk anymore. Can you just..." he reached across the gap between them and took the fold of her skirt between his fingers "...be there? You were always good at the, uh... comforting."
So that was what he was after. Why hadn't he just said so in the first place? Then again, heartbroken boys weren't always the most methodical of people. Maybe he hadn't known what he needed just then. But if he did now...
Well. What could she do? She was his friend, after all.
"All right. I'll comfort you."
She pulled her legs onto the couch and crawled on top of him, the muscles of his abdomen firm beneath one hand and his heart vulnerable beneath the other. At least he knew what he needed. There would be much comforting required.
So there was no sense in wasting any time.
"The fuck?"
"Get your cock out of my SISTER!"
NEXT CHAPTER:
January 27, 1165
"All right, settle down, you two," scolded Fenrick's father from the couch. "Don't you go messing up your Aunt Nora's sitting room."
Beside him, Aunt Nora sniffed dismissively. "What is there to mess up, Falidor? My kids run around in here all the time; it's not a problem."
Fenrick's father dragged the foot of his boot along the grain of the floorboards. "Mine are older, though; they should know better. Besides, Aldara's being a perfect angel here and Cuthron's upstairs with Rifden. Seriously, Fenrick, Riala--please, just stop running around!"
Fenrick exchanged a quick glance with his sister, then rolled his eyes. This was the great thing about having a twin; whenever something concerning your age came up, you had an ally, even if she was taller than you. "But Papa, we're only making the most of what's left of our childhood."
Smiling, Riala nodded in agreement. "You see, Papa, we're seven now, and seven is close to ten, and ten is close to sixteen. Weren't you married at sixteen, Papa?"
A vein in their father's temple throbbed, which was rather out of the ordinary; ordinarily, it only emerged when he was speaking with their mother. "Riala..."
"And at seventeen, you were a father!" piped up Fenrick. "That means it won't be long before you're a grandfather!"
Defeated, his father sunk further into the couch, nearly falling onto Aldara. "Fenrick, what have I told you about using the G word?"
Fenrick cackled as he tagged Riala and dashed toward the kitchen. "It works!"
His father might have protested, but he found he was too distracted by the swishing of his Aunt Alsina's skirts as she trudged down the staircase, emerging from the upper level. Fenrick stopped; there was something odd about the way she moved. Aunt Alsina was usually a carefree, energetic girl who pranced around like a show pony, climbing fences and sliding down banisters. Her dull, lifeless tread was unsettling--there was something wrong.
Riala seemed to sense it too. "Aunt Alsina? Are you all right?"
Her concern was disregarded--perhaps even unnoticed. Brushing past the children, the older girl proceeded to her sister, not even bothering to greet her brother; in fact, it seemed to Fenrick that she was reluctant to even look at him. "Nora?"
Fenrick's older aunt frowned. "Alsina? Is something wrong?"
Alsina swallowed. It occurred to Fenrick that she was almost sixteen; suddenly, that age didn't seem so old anymore. "I need to tell you something... and I'd rather we were alone."
NEXT CHAPTER:
February 2, 1161
The twins played as they always did, Fenrick chattering away loudly as he maneuvered the figurines about, barely allowing his sister to get a word in, while Riala rolled her eyes and followed along, occasionally committing some rebellious act such as stealing an animal or 'accidentally' kicking her brother in the leg. It was just another day for them; the little dears didn't even realize that their mother was noticeably absent, giving birth to their sibling on the floor below.
Half-sibling, Falidor corrected himself hastily. How bizarre this was, his wife was about to have a baby that was not his. She hadn't even bothered to pretend that it was, nor did she claim rape or immaculate conception or anything of the like. She had simply been unfaithful--end of story.
Perhaps she knew he was a soft man, and did not fear him. What would he do to her? Nothing. Maybe he should have. Maybe he might have if he honestly cared more.
His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a knock on the nursery door. "Yes?" he called with a sigh.
"Everything went well," Laveria assured him as she barged into the room, Ailede's baby in her arms, "or, as well as it could have gone, I suppose. Ailede named her Madelheina, for her mother."
Falidor had to admit, he was somewhat surprised that his wife had named a child for one of the parents she so despised--it seemed almost a crime to willingly christen a baby after a person one loathed, a mark of some similar emotion felt toward the child herself. He had spent little enough time feeling sorry for himself, but even that which he had might have been better spent feeling sorry for the baby.
"Madelheina," he whispered as he pulled himself from his seat and made his way toward the pair; the name seemed somewhat prettier when not applied to his shrewish mother-in-law. "Does she resemble Ailede much?"
Laveria quickly glanced down at the infant's face, frowning. "Not really. Looks more like Willott's former apprentice than anyone else. I hear he's set up shop in Chalwin Village in Tetranshire if you feel the need to go pound the stuffing out of him."
"Thanks, but I'll pass," Falidor declined; he did not think it wise to pick a fight with Grayer Maesflein, who was not only considerably bigger than he was, but also a man who tore apart dead animals for a living.
She allowed herself to laugh, for which he was grateful--he didn't appreciate the way most people had come to walk on eggshells around him upon learning of his wife's infidelity. "Come and see her."
Shrugging, he did as he was told. At first, he had no idea what to make of the girl--though he could not claim to love his wife, the baby was a sort of symbol of his humiliation--but as those brown eyes met his and that little mouth formed a small smile, he could not help but return the grin. This tiny angel, he was fully aware, had nothing to do with her own conception. This was a little girl, with a distant mother and no father, and all she could ever want was just a little bit of love.
Falidor was not the smartest of men, nor the strongest of men. He was neither a smith of words nor a great visionary. Even he himself was well aware that there was nothing at all remarkable about him.
And yet, he had a lot of love--more than enough for his wife's baby.
"Can I hold her?" he asked as they continued to gaze at one another.
Laveria nodded, then gently lowered the baby into his arms. She was not a small newborn, but all the same, Falidor could not recall seeing anyone ever so tiny.
"Papa?" asked Riala suddenly from the floor. "Papa, who's that?"
"This is your sister, dear," Falidor informed her--the word 'half' seemed suddenly insignificant. "Be gentle with her, though--she's only a baby."
His daughter nodded solemnly. "All right."
"Good girl," he muttered as he held the baby close. "God, she's warm."
"She's perfectly healthy, if that's what you're thinking," insisted Laveria. "Besides, I'm somewhat warm as well. It may just be the room... or you."
Falidor raised an eyebrow. "Me?"
"Most men are a little colder when presented with their wives' bastards, you realize," she sighed.
He snorted dismissively. "Well, maybe their wives' bastards just aren't as sweet as this little one. Isn't that right, Maddie?"
The baby replied with a small yawn, then snuggled herself into his shoulder. She was such a darling; it was true that he wasn't her father, but he was perfectly happy to be her papa.
NEXT CHAPTER:
December 1, 1157
"Mama!" called Rifden as he ran into the house, toddling along as quickly as his five-year-old legs would carry him. "Mama, Falidor's here! Falidor's here!"
Riala pursed her lips, caught somewhere between hope and disbelief. "Is he?"
"Uh-huh," her youngest son insisted. "He's outside talking to Nora and Grandpapa."
Stepping away from the water bucket, Alsina sighed. "Great. He probably brought stupid Ailede with him."
"Alsina, don't call your sister-in-law stupid," Riala scolded softly, though privately, she did not blame her daughter in the slightest.
"Why not?" demanded Alsina. "She is."
Rifden bounced indignantly, as if worried that his family had forgotten his very presence. "Ailede didn't come!"
Ceidrid, Riala's middle child, gave a sigh of relief as he lowered his nose to the pot of soup Nora had been preparing. "Good. I hate her."
"Ceidrid!" exclaimed Riala. "Don't you dare say that when your brother comes inside!"
He shrugged. "You know, Ma... I think some part of Falidor hates her too. It's not like he married her out of love or anything. She's just some hussy who was looking to take advantage of some drunken idiot, and it turned out that the drunken idiot was him. Besides, have you seen the way she talks to him? It's obvious that there's no respect there whatsoever."
Riala sighed. "You shouldn't talk that way in front of your little siblings."
"Rifden's heard worse, Ma--and Alsina says worse."
She opened her mouth to ask exactly what sort of things Alsina was saying these days, but before she could, the door opened to reveal her firstborn... and someone else.
"Falidor," she addressed him, not fully capable of saying much else. "Oh, Falidor..."
"Hello, Ma," Falidor replied with a nod. "Ma... this is Fenrick."
Riala took a moment to cough, then smiled. "Fenrick? Your father..."
"I named him for Father," he confirmed. "He looks just like him, doesn't he?"
"And just like you," she added, her dark eyes meeting the baby's blue ones. Those were the most beautiful eyes in the world, she realized all over again. She had married those eyes... her three older children had those eyes... and now, her grandson did as well.
Falidor beamed at her fondly, as he had as a small child, fully in awe of his mother. "Do you want to hold him, Ma?"
She nodded. Gently, Falidor lowered the baby into her arms; the little boy was the spitting image of his father at that age, she saw only too clearly.
"He was born on the fifteenth," admitted Falidor sheepishly, "but he was sick, and I didn't want to take him anywhere until he got better."
For the first time in a week or so, Riala let out a slight laugh. "He's beautiful, Falidor."
"I know."
"How are you liking Fenrick, Mama?" asked Nora as she strode inside--Riala had to look twice.
"Oh my," she gasped between frantic blinks. "That baby looks just like Fenrick."
Falidor nodded. "She's his twin, Ma. Her name... is Riala."
She felt herself smiling again--she had to cough, but she resolved to keep it in while she was holding the baby. "I... don't know what to say, Falidor."
"You don't have to say anything," he assured her--God, he looked so much like his father.
Beside him, Nora nodded. "Sometimes words aren't enough, Mama."
Riala's grin only widened. "No, but oftentimes, they are all we have. When these two are older, you will understand."
NEXT CHAPTER:
