In Which Yvanette Has to Learn

March 4, 1202

"Gah!" Little Lonriad bounced the kitten about, his chubby hands dangling the furry form clumsily from beneath the shoulders. The kitten--who probably should have had a name--squirmed, but only for want of his own mobility. The baby couldn't hurt him even if he tried.

The kitten couldn't hurt the baby either, as more than one unfelt scratch with no lingering marks had proven.

"Should be interesting, watching those two as they get older." Sevvie, of course, would call it 'interesting'. Yvanette needed another word, but she didn't think one existed that quite captured the sentiment of 'greatly relieved that her transformations were a thing of the past and that her son and any future children of hers weren't doomed to involuntary felinehood of either the temporary or permanent variety, but still wary of Lonriad's kitten and her cat and not satisfied with the information Imran's journals had managed to provide'. "I suspect our boy will be able to answer most of our questions better than any old diary can, once he starts talking."

Yvanette pursed her lips. Sevvie was too good a man to point out that she could have unlocked some of those secrets for herself if she stopped keeping the cat at arms' length. Perhaps it was her responsibility as a mother to do so. She didn't want Lonriad to hurt himself for the sake of his own curiosity, and certainly not for the sake of hers or Sevvie's. She would try, eventually.

But she wasn't ready yet.

Things had been so complicated for so long. Her last bout of true peacefulness had been long enough ago that she scarcely remembered, when she'd been so small a child she couldn't properly appreciate it. But now... well, things weren't perfect.

But, they were so much better than they'd been before. Her body was her own again. The child she hadn't dared consider was here and healthy and happy. The possibility of more children was no longer a thing to be dreaded for their own sakes, but a thing to be considered--even hoped for. She could attend weddings and feasts and parties and not have to worry about whether she could duck away for an hour, whether absence or tardiness would be noticed. She could come and go from her own home as she pleased, without worry as to what might happen if she was gone too long.

She was free.

For now, she'd savor that.

But...

"I'll look into things myself before he talks."

Sevvie squeezed her hand. "I hope you don't feel that you have to."

"I don't--or, not for the reasons you'd fear, at least." She burrowed herself further into her husband's embrace and watched as their son rubbed his face with a fistful of kitten. "No one could understand what I went through as a child, since no one who knew me had gone through the same. Lonriad, at least, can have someone who can empathize--and I'm the only one who can be that person. I just have to learn to trust the familiars."

Her son's--and her own, staring wide-eyed from her perch on the other couch.

"After all, it's because of them that our lives can be so much better now."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Yvanette Finds the Baffling Companion

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:

In Which Ashe Places the Higher Priority

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: