skip to main |
skip to sidebar
June 15, 1202
"Well... I suppose now I'll always be able to pester her about how I managed not to vomit while she was the one giving birth," Honora drawled, in some effort to sound exhausted but rather on the well side for a woman mere hours past labor. "In all seriousness, though, I hope she isn't ill. She's been green at the gills all week."
"Hmm." Nanalie eased her grandson's hiccups with a pat to his back, and eased herself into the thought of speaking of one of her twin daughters with the other. Honora and Nearina had an odd sort of relationship, too different to be often drawn to each other's company but quite aware of each other's deficits, each seeing themselves as the other's protector. In terms of anything that required any caution--in action or emotion--Honora was the expert of the two. But, she was not so in tune to her twin that she didn't need the occasional hint. "Nearina might be hoping she is."
Honora stood, lashes pried apart as the eyes beneath them bulged. Preoccupied with her own timely, convenient, healthy pregnancy, the early detection of someone else's less desirable one couldn't have been a priority. "You think she might be with child?"
"I think it's a possibility," Nanalie affirmed as she handed little Garrett back to his mother. Her second grandchild, her first grandson. It may not have been long before she had a third grandchild, possibly a second grandson. A shame, though, that such a grandchild--if there was one--would never know their father. "Oswald hasn't been gone so long that she'd necessarily know if she wasn't."
"I suppose you're right. Poor Nearina." Honora shifted her son into what he seemed to find a comfortable cradling hold and sighed. "If the thought's crossed her mind, I don't know if either possibility could comfort her. Either Oswald will have a posthumous child he'll never see, or she'll know for certain that he'll never have another child."
"Indeed. Maybe don't mention it for her; if it somehow hasn't crossed her mind, then there's no sense in us pushing it in front of her, especially if she's not sure how she'd feel about it." And she wouldn't. Who did, in times like these? For someone dealing with Nearina's loss, there were both too many feelings and too few to predict them all.
"Right. For now, let's just do like poor Asalaye's doing and... hold her hair back if we catch her face in the bucket."
NEXT CHAPTER:
February 15, 1201
"So... do they ever spend any time together without their tongues in each other's throats?"
If either Nearina or Oswald heard Arkon's question, they didn't care enough to protest. On her own part, Honora--much as she loved her sister and while she had nothing in particular against her future brother-in-law--made a point not to lie to her own betrothed. "Not so far as I've seen, no."
Nearina and Oswald had, of course, spent time together outside of Honora's presence--but she didn't want to think about what they must have been doing then.
"Hmm. Well, if it makes them happy." Arkon, being a Kemorin, never had much more of a reaction to lewd-but-harmless behavior than a shrug and a smile. Some part of Honora envied him that. "They might have more self-control than they let on, though. I know we were all shocked when my sister walked the aisle in white, but I suppose you can be sexual without technically having sex."
"It amuses me that your family was shocked by your sister's white dress, but no one thought much of her husband wearing something similar."
"Hey, you were there; you know it wasn't similar at all." Arkon threw back his head and chuckled the way only a Kemorin could. "Adonis's dress was much prettier. I'm sure it won't be as pretty as whatever you have in mind for your wedding dress, though--if only because you'll be the one wearing it."
"That's sweet of you to say," Honora acknowledged, still watching her sister with mingled concern and envy. If twins had to fight in the womb over every available trait, then Nearina must have claimed nearly all of the libido there was to go around. That wasn't to say that Honora had no libido, exactly... but it took a while. And it wasn't nearly powerful enough to override any of the worries surrounding any extensive premarital activity--because if Nearina had taken most of the libido, then Honora had taken most of the worry.
Secretly, Arkon must have found her dull and prudish.
While Oswald--who was not a Kemorin, who probably hadn't grown up expecting adult life to mimic the stuff of dirty novels--probably thought himself the luckiest man in Naroni.
"Oh! Here I was, thinking I'd be the first one here."
Except, perhaps, for his cousin Marsden.
That wasn't to say that Arkon's cousin Celina had the same reputation as some of her Kemorin brethren, but there had always been something somewhat... off about her. A little mischievous, a little sinister, more than a little sensual. Perhaps a little predatory.
Or perhaps she was just strange, and Honora was a judgmental bitch who couldn't by a loaf of bread without making a hundred snide assumptions about the baker in the process. "...Hello, Celina."
"Honora. Cousin Arkon." Celina paid them a polite wave, but quickly transferred her attentions elsewhere--to the precise reason Honora was wary of her. "Nearina!"
Surely it wasn't too bitchy or too judgmental to have thought she'd seen those grey eyes flicker to her sister's ass? And then to her breasts as she turned around?
"Celina! It's been a while." Nearina, of course, hadn't noticed a thing. Not now, not when she'd been twelve with brand new breast and Celina had been a shyly ogling ten-year-old. "Think your cousin will be surprised that not only his old housemates will be here for his birthday party?"
"Probably. He never catches on to these things until it's too late."
Nearina snickered, unaware of her own pot-and-kettle situation there. Or maybe Honora was seeing things that weren't there, again. Celina seemed to like Marsden well enough, after all.
Then again...
"Are you all right?"
Honora snapped back to reality as Arkon snuggled up to her. Or snapped back from reality. In any case, it was for the best.
Probably.
"Just... wondering if your brother will be as surprised as we all hope."
NEXT CHAPTER:
October 21, 1180
Red Severin--both dark-haired little boys on the floor were named Severin, and both were called Sevvie by their fathers, so Garrett had taken to distinguishing them by the color of their shirts--was Valira and Searle's younger son, the only child they had brought with them as their other three were plenty old enough to spend the night with only the nurses about. He and Karlspan were less than a year apart and played together well; Red Severin was by far the more outgoing of the two, but while many children his age might have been frustrated by quieter playmates, the boy had nothing but patience for his shy, mild cousin.
Blue Severin was Lonriad and Asalaye's eldest. He wasn't mean, but he seemed to prefer animals to other boys, if the plight of poor captive Sheba was any indication. His little brother, scared of the bigger boys as year-old children often were, clung instead to his father's tunic.
Garrett couldn't be sure what he might have done with little Karlspan if his brothers-in-law hadn't had the good sense to bring their own sons along. He would have done what he could for the boy, of course--what sort of horrible father wouldn't try to comfort his son when the only mother the kid had ever known could very well be in mortal peril?--but if he'd been the one distracting Karlspan, wouldn't that bring further emphasis to his own worries? Karlspan's preoccupation with his little cousins and the presence of the other men were the only things holding Garrett's own sanity in place.
Not that the men were doing the greatest job of it.
"Maybe Nanalie's at an advantage? You know, being a midwife and all." Searle's suggestion was a misguided attempt at reassurance where distraction would have been preferred. "She knows what to expect, and how to best compose herself. And she's not the sort who's prone to panic if something goes wrong, so extra stress shouldn't be a problem."
As if to punish him, Lonriad didn't only nod in agreement, but apparently felt the need to contribute. "Plus you know how everyone listens to Nanalie. She's probably nagged the kid out already, no problem."
Garrett glowered at them both. At least his father-in-law had the sense not to make such comments. But then he remembered that Nanalie's mother had died birthing her youngest and suddenly that wasn't any better. "Er, so... surely you've heard my uncle's thinking about throwing a tournament? Planning on entering?"
He drummed on the desk, fighting to keep a grimace in place as his brothers-in-law took their sweet time answering. Too much time.
And after all that--two shakes of the head.
"If I'm going to get that messy, I'd hope to have a better reason than some vanity contest of brute strength."
"And you think I'd risk this pretty face? What does that leave my poor extended family to refresh their eyes with after a glimpse at my sister's husband?"
His father-in-law's forehead collided with his open hand. Garrett could relate to the sentiment. "Really, nobody likes winners' purses any more?"
"What's the point? It'll just go to Casimiro or Ashe or Neilor anyway. Or Isidro, if he forgets his helmet and the mere sight of his ugly face scares his opponents right off their horses." Lonriad shrugged, planting a kiss on his little son's head before steering right back to the conversation Garrett had been trying to avoid. "What about you? Is your new little mite going to be able to see his daddy fight before he has the chamberpot figured out?"
For Christ's sake, if the next phrase out of your mouth isn't--
"Oh, hello Valira."
That hadn't been quite what he was thinking. Regardless, Garrett swallowed back some misplaced nerves and turned his head. His sister had indeed emerged from the birthing room.
And not unaccompanied.
Whatever the hell they'd been talking about forgotten, Garrett scrambled to his feet. "Nanalie--"
"She's fine." Valira gestured for him with a jerk of her chin. "Get over here."
Relieved and grateful beyond the point where disagreement was possible, Garrett did as he was told. Not that he needed to be told.
A little face stared at him: tiny baby lips in a half-imagined smile, a nose far cuter than whatever horror he'd braced himself for, eyes that were his own but somehow better. He hadn't expected this calm so soon. He'd been caught off guard. He was in love.
"Hello." He stepped forward and ventured a small wave; hazel eyes followed his hand. "I'm your papa."
The baby blinked. Valira propped up the little bundle for a better look at Garrett's face; this one had missed out on big brother Karlspan's newborn fear of large noses. "You're just adorable, you sweet little... uh, what--?"
Valira smirked. "She's a girl."
"A girl!" His heart somersaulted. Not sure how he wasn't bouncing off the walls, he glanced at his little son on the floor. "Here that, Karl? You have a little sister."
Karlspan dropped his doll, beaming. "Yay!"
"'Yay' indeed! Did Nanalie name her, or...?"
Valira nodded. "She wants to name her after her mother, if that's all right with you."
"Of course! Isn't this great, everyone? Now we have one of each." And he cemented that fact with a kiss to his daughter's brow. Nanalie was alive. Karlspan was glad to be a big brother. And the baby--his little Honora--was the sweetest little girl he'd ever seen. It was nothing like Karlspan's birth, what ought to have been a celebration marred by poor Elhina's fate, what he'd kept trying and trying and failing to tell himself would not happen to Nanalie as well. He did not think he'd ever been happier. He did not think he ever could be happier. Surely this was the pinnacle of happiness. How could it not be?
What could possibly make him any happier?
"Um... Garrett?"
It was his father-in-law--still quiet but no longer tense, calm and perhaps a little amused. But of course he would be. He had a new granddaughter, after all. "I'm not sure that's quite correct."
Eh? "Sorry, I don't quite--" Behind Adonis, a mischievous Searle gestured to the door.
Huh. Perhaps it was possible to be happier. "She didn't look that big."
"She is a tricky one, my sister." Mindful of Garrett's third child--holy shit, he had three children!--Asalaye kicked the door shut behind her. "You're lucky that they don't look the same."
Garrett took a minute to glance back and forth between the babies. It was true that they weren't identical--or even alike, really, despite being equally beautiful. They both had his eyes and they both wore them better, and they both had a few wispy strands of similarly brown hair, but that was where the similarities ended. There was the tiniest hint of a bump in the bridge of Honora's nose, and perhaps slightly more definition in the other's chin, and maybe some difference in the overall shape of the face. That would be more than enough.
Well, except... "So, this one--"
His sister and sister-in-law shared a giggle before responding in time. "Girl."
"Then we'll name this one for my mother. Hear that, Karl?" Garrett didn't have to look at his son to know the little mite was smiling. "You have two little sisters!"
"Yay, yay!"
And if ever Garrett needed two words to sum up this day, he couldn't think of any more fitting than those.
Yay, yay.
NEXT CHAPTER:
