In Which Rina Fulfills the Genuine Answer

May 1, 1202

"Thank you for all your help this whole time." Adonis began about half a minute after Rina sat down. She'd been at the bank all morning, but she'd opted to use her lunch break to check in on Dora and her family. Dora's husband must have thought that to be a larger gesture than it actually was. "You and Severin and Thetis."

"It wasn't a problem. Friends do that." A lesson she'd learned later in life than one ought to have, which was perhaps why it stuck so fervently. She also knew what it was to be ill and bedridden, and how little help it was when the best of the people around resorted to avoidance. "Thetis said she was breathing better?"

"Yes. She's still asleep, but it's a peaceful, healthy sort of sleep. Your husband says she'll be well when she wakes, at least in body." Dora's own husband sighed at the incompleteness of that assessment. "I worry about what he might mean by that, though."

"Well... there's still the memory issue, isn't there? That, and I don't think it's unusual to be stressed and agitated after recovering from an illness; there's a feeling of needing to catch up with life after essentially rejoining it."

"Hmm. I suppose that makes sense." But Adonis just drummed his fingers against his leg, enlightened but not reassured. "I just... God. I just want her to be well, you know? Healthy, and happy. I'd pull the stars from the sky if that would make her better, and I hate knowing that there's nothing I can do to help and probably a thousand ways to make her feel worse."

A thousand ways to make her feel worse. Rina knew how that felt. But, she also knew that many of those ways were more about intent than anything else. "Just be there for her, Adonis. She knows that you care about her; as long as you give her no reason to doubt that, you'll help her more than you know. I know that loving isn't always enough, but sometimes it is."

"I should hope so. Sometimes it's all we have, isn't it? Like now." A scuff of his boot against the floor took that bitterly. "Do you think she'll be all right, in the end? More than in body, I mean?"

'Think' wasn't always the best word at times like these. It wasn't a question for the mind, or at least not for their minds. How would they even know, necessarily? If Dora cared to, she could hide her misery beneath a mask of content for fifty years yet, and no one would know the difference.

A genuine answer required a different verb. "I hope so."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Rina Laments the Apparent Lack of Real Problems

November 9, 1201

"I'll level with you, Alyssin: this isn't exactly how I planned on spending my day off." And Alyssin was, at least, a person who could usually handle such honesty. She probably knew she could be a bit much for some people--and that, in most cases, Rina did enjoy her company. And it wasn't even her company that was the problem!

It was just this ridiculous conversation. "It's not my job to convince you that you don't look old, especially since your bedroom mirror ought to be enough for you in that regard. You don't look old at all!"

"And you're sure of this?" Dear Lord. It wasn't even like Alyssin to care much if she looked old or not! "I've noticed a distinct lack of male gaze lately."

"Knowing the males likely to throw such gazes? Take that as a stroke of good luck."

"Easy for you to say; unlike mine, your husband actually fucks you from time to time."

Not quite sure how Alyssin could think so casually about her own brother fucking anyone, Rina glanced over to the desk on the opposite wall, where Severin sat, slumped on the the table's surface. He hadn't had the day off, but he'd had an early enough lull that he must have seen fit to catch a break before he headed out to pick up the quads. The bedroom would have been more comfortable, especially with company around, but that spot did get a nice stream of sun at this time of year.

"If that's the problem, then talk to Aidric."

"Why? Half the time I don't want him fucking me anyway." Alyssin sighed. Severin had more than once voiced suspicion that both Aidric and Alyssin were in the habit of satisfying their urges elsewhere, but that wasn't any of Rina's business. "You know, I never had any problems like this before that Dora woman showed up. I don't think we look that much alike, but everyone else seems to think we do--aside from her obviously being younger than me. That seems to be the only reason anyone notices how old I am."

"Seriously? You're upset about random men not checking you out, and that's Dora's fault? Alyssin, don't you have any real problems to worry about?"

"Look, I get it--it's stupid. But it bothers me, all right? It's been bothering me ever since that forest-dweller pointed it out."

"Forest-dweller?"

Alyssin turned her head and Rina leaned over to see Severin stir in his seat. She hadn't thought he'd been paying their conversation any attention, if she'd thought he'd even been awake. And, now that she thought about it, he'd returned home after Alyssin had told her she'd run into that woman.

"Why the hell would Dora be on first-name terms with one of the forest-dwellers?"

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Rina and Severin Are Free

August 1, 1201

Not even five seconds since returning home and Rina couldn't contain her giddiness any longer. "I can't believe they're finally gone!"

Technically, the quadruplets had started at the school in April--but, their first term had been a brief introduction. There had been a few short sessions, most of which encouraged the attendance of at least one parent and all of which were brief enough that it wasn't worth leaving school property anyway, but most April through July had been a series of half-mandated playdates to encourage the children to get to know their closest peers. This would be the first day of school proper.

And while Rina herself had hated school to the point where she felt guilty about thinking it... what a relief it was.

Severin, at least, didn't seem to mind the hypocrisy--if he didn't outright share it. "I know, right? I can't remember the last time I looked at my sleeve and there wasn't a kid wiping snot on it."

"Me neither! I love them, but why did they all have to be born at once?" Rina sighed. Sure, having four kids reasonably spread between one and twelve would have had its downsides as well... but Rina couldn't think of any that she wouldn't have been willing to put up with in exchange for the difficulties of four perpetually at the same wild stage. "We're finally free."

"We are." Her husband smirked. "And neither of us are working today either."

"Indeed." That was by design--but worth noting again. "No patients, no clients, no children. Just several hours before we have to pick them up, and anything we can imagine to fill that time."

"And I know where I'd like to start." Severin leaned in, stubble brushing Rina's cheek, his nose nudging her hair out of the way en route to her ear. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

After all these years of quadruple chaos? How could she not have been?

"Oh God, yes."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Severin Is Found Fraternal

December 4, 1197

"Ladies," Severin greeted Rina and her visitors as he returned to their home for the day. The sound of high-pitched giggling drew his eyes to the four toddlers on the floor. "Children."

"Papa!" Renalie acknowledged him. The other three ranged from a turn of the head to no response at all. It wasn't surprising; Rina may have sworn to contrary, but Severin suspected that Renalie was the only one of the quads who liked him much. Either that or she simply felt sorry for him.

"Ladies? Children? That's all you have to say?" From her seat at the table beside Rina, Severin's sister rolled her eyes. "Dora's wearing a wedding dress, you dolt! Tell her how lovely she looks!"

Oh. Right. Dora was getting married later in the month.

Not caring to insult one of the few people on the planet he found at all interesting, Severin looked Dora up and down as Tiada fiddled with some adjustments to the dress's back. "You look lovely."

Dora smiled shyly. Why did she look like someone else when she did that? And why could he not for the life of him fathom who? "Thank you."

"Dora has something else to say to you, too," Tiada urged with a wink and a nudge--for Severin and for Dora respectively.

"Oh. Yes. Yes, I do."

"All right, then." Severin shrugged as Dora stepped forward. "What is it?"

"Would you... maybe walk me down the aisle?"

Severin blinked. He hadn't expected anyone to ask that of him until Thetrica or Renalie married, assuming that he grew on them. Sure, Dora didn't have family--and sure, Rina and Alina had befriended her--but weren't the two of them little more than acquaintances, at the end of the day? "Me? Really? Uh... don't you think Orrick or Adwyn or someone would be a better choice?"

Dora shook her head. "Orrick's my boss, so I don't know how appropriate that would be. And it certainly wouldn't be right to ask any of Adonis's family."

"What about Jothein, then? Or Laurie or Orrin?" Alina's husband or Tiada's brothers certainly would have been more approachable for such a shy woman!

"I thought about them, but my mind just kept coming back to you." Dora clasped her hands together, as if she might fall to her knees and start begging him. "Please? For some reason, I find you... I don't know. A little fraternal?"

He didn't have to look to see Alina's raised eyebrow. That was probably the last word any of his siblings would have used to describe him. "Fraternal?"

"I know it's strange. But... but it's just how I feel, I guess." Dora blushed, shy smile returning. That look of someone else returning. "Please?"

Severin sighed. He supposed there were worse jobs a person could get at a wedding. "All right. If it means that much to you, and if you're sure."

"Really?" That smile was not so shy--and she only looked like herself. Perhaps he'd never seen a smile quite like that. "Oh, thank you so much!"

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Dora Can't Recall a Stranger Thing

March 17, 1197

"Honestly? I'll be glad to be back at the bank come April. I love my babies, but I still need something that's just mine." Rina reclined with a fond smile, though not without a slight spark of impatience in her eye. Given her own field of work, Dora had to appreciate the attitude. It was difficult to maintain commitment to oneself as an individual when roles such as motherhood came around, especially in the case of someone like Rina who had struggled to conceive. Whenever Dora started her own family--and assuming things continued going well with Adonis, that may well have been sooner than she thought!--she hoped she could manage a similar balance. "My mother-in-law has been a godsend. She's been over more days than not, even spending a couple nights a week. She's upstairs putting the quads down for a nap right now."

"That's a relief. I'd imagine four babies require all the help you can get."

"And then some! At least none of them seem to be particularly demanding. No colic or anything of the like."

Dora nodded. Back in Dovia, a neighboring couple had had a colicky young son. He'd grown into a sweet boy, but back in his early days, his cries had carried well down the lane. "Thank goodness."

Rina laughed. "Good thing Alina isn't here. Her second daughter spent most of her first six months screaming her little lungs out."

"Mmm." No, Alina wasn't here, because she was at the bank. But, now that it had been said... why was no one else here? Dora hadn't thought she and Rina were quite at the point in their friendship yet where a one-on-one visit would be a valid plan. Of course, it couldn't have been polite to say so if Rina felt differently. "She's a well-behaved little girl now, though."

"She is," Rina agreed, though her eyes darted to the corner staircase at the sound of a woman's footsteps upon it. "Oh! Dora, this is my mother-in-law, Thetis. Thetis, do sit down and join us."

"Oh, I don't need to intrude," Mistress Tumekrin insisted. Dora's ear twitched. She didn't think she'd ever encountered this woman before--but there was an uncanny familiarity about her voice.

"Nonsense! Sit down. Meet my friend." Rina clapped her hand against the seat cushion beside her. That was enough for Mistress Tumekrin to relent, shuffling to the couch and sitting down next to her daughter-in-law. "Thetis, this is Dora Floren."

"Ah, the famous Dora." Huh? "Hmm. You know, you're right. She does look rather like Alyssin."

Alyssin. Right--Severin and Alina's sister. Of course Rina would want to introduce Dora to Alyssin's mother. "I still need to meet the famous Alyssin."

Mistress Tumekrin's lips curled to a warm grin. She did have a motherly, embracing countenance about her, even if she did look far too youthful to be a grandmother so many times over--and even if she was probably what scowly, sullen Severin might have looked like had he been a woman. This Alyssin must have looked more like Alina--and the twins' father. "I'm sure that can be arranged, though I'll warn you she can be something of an acquired taste--rather like her father. Then again, she's also rather like Severin, and he seems to think highly of you."

"I quite like Severin. I find him... I don't know." They'd been acquaintances for a while now, and she still couldn't quite put a word to it. "Comforting, I suppose. Sort of... fraternal."

"Well, with the number of siblings his father and I made for him, I guess it would be inevitable that he'd end up fraternal in spite of himself." Mistress Tumekrin gave a fond shake of her head, then squinted, studying Dora further. Dora wasn't quite sure what to make of it. It was a prickly, claustrophobic feeling, being examined like a moth pinned to a board, but there was a kindness in those eyes that made it somehow bearable. "My... forgive me for staring, dear, but you even have Florian's eyes. You must be related to his side of the family somehow."

"Maybe?" If they went back far enough? Though, it must have been fairly far... "I'd never heard of any Tumekrins before I met Severin and Rina, though."

"And we'd never heard of any Florens, though it does sound similar to my husband's given name. Perhaps Florian was derived from Floren at some point?"

"Stranger things must have happened?"

But as far as Dora could recall, nothing quite this strange had ever happened to her.

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Severin Finds It Easy

June 21, 1196

"Four of them." Four of them. Even the most backward, bone-headed, presumptuous assholes alive would think twice before giving Rina shit now. That thought would have to provide significant intermittent relief and comfort over the next couple decades, with four crying infants and then four troublesome children and then four bratty teenagers all at once.

But it would never be as comforting as the sheer fact of Rina's survival. "I'm just... I'm so happy you're all right. I'd never been so terrified before, and I've never been as relieved as I am now."

"They're here, and I get to see them grow up." Tired as she was, she still found the strength to laugh. "And none of them will ever ask about more siblings."

I'll say. That sort of suggestion from a child old enough to keep their mouth shut would merit a cuff to the back of the head. "You're probably right. It was enough of a pain growing up with a twin."

"I suppose we ought to talk about names now."

"What, we can't just dress them in different colors and call them by their clothes?"

"Only if you want your father to have a fit about why he didn't think of that first, Blue." Rina pecked him on the cheek, then let her head droop back against his. "I always wanted to name my third son Tertius, if I had three sons--for my grandfather. We have two sons, but the younger one is our third child; there's no reason Tertius couldn't be a name for a third child instead of a third son, is there?"

"I don't see why not." Hell of a lot better than naming either of the boys 'Felron'. "And in that case, my father will kill me if the older boy isn't Florian."

"That's the boys settled, then. But the girls might be trickier. I want to honor our mothers, but my grandmother has been so supportive since my father cast me out. Same with Aunt Nanalie."

"Hmm. I don't know if there's any way we can combine two and two into anything half-decent."

"Yes, good luck stumbling across two winning names that way." Rina sighed. "I don't know... Thetrica and Renalie?"

"Huh." Hadn't expected it to be that easy. "Those are actually both kind of pretty."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Renata Is Given the Date

May 28, 1196

"Big enough to be kicking! God, what a relief." Renata beamed down at the bump of her growing great-grandchild, then met eyes with her granddaughter. She had to marvel at how calm Rina had managed to remain since she'd decided to keep the baby, even with the high risk of miscarriage, even with the increased danger to her own life.

That calm, Renata hoped, had aided in the sustenance of the child. If it had aided in the sustenance of the child, then--she prayed--it would aid in Rina's own survival when the time came.

Rina gave her stomach a rub, a soft smile on her lips. "They're a survivor, all right."

"They?"

"Oh. Arydath says she keeps getting conflicting boy vibes and girl vibes, and I'm not really comfortable using 'it'. So it's a singular 'they', for now."

Renata chuckled. Rina's mother had been a twin, and her husband was a twin. And in addition to Rina's aunt and mother, Renata had also birthed triplets. "Maybe they're a pair of boy and girl twins."

"Oh, God! Severin would hit the roof.

"But, he'd manage--if only for my sake. Plus, it's not likely there will be any more after, and I'm sure Arydath would chase after him with butcher's knife if this somehow happened again."

"Woe behold the husband who invokes the wrath of Arydath. Good thing a doctor would know how to prevent a pregnancy without having to deny the pleasure."

Rina laughed. God, how good it was to hear her laughing! "I should hope so!"

Hope. Hope was everything here. For Rina's baby, Rina's life, everything. "I'm so glad things have worked out for you so far, with the rotten start you had to your adulthood, and that horrible man you had to call your father. Just... let's all do everything we can to make sure you're around to see the good things to come, all right? You and me and Severin, Nanalie and Arydath, the whole team. Let's do everything we can for the next month or so, until the baby's born."

Rina nodded. "On the twenty-first of June."

Renata tilted her head to the side. "You don't have a guess about the sex, but you're sure of the date?"

"It's the only one the makes sense." Said with a smile that Renata hoped her daughter could see from heaven. "The first day of summer. The first day of something new."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Nanalie Recalls the First Three Lessons

December 12, 1195

Arydath stopped at the foot of the bench, her trek from the door of a slower pace than Nanalie recalled as typical for her. She may have been smiling or frowning, one of those inscrutable expressions a midwife had to adapt when the potential mother could have any possible reaction. Nanalie herself had studied under Arydath. She knew the senior midwife's ethics well, and those ethics did not include projecting her own feelings onto her patient.

In this particular case, Nanalie doubted Arydath was even sure of her own feelings. Lord knew she wasn't.

"So... I've checked the mixtures a few times now for good measure. It seems that, against all odds, you are pregnant."

Within Nanalie's own, Rina's hand shook. Nanalie offered a forced, but hopefully reassuring hint of a smile just in case her niece could see her in her peripheral.

Not that it mattered. Nanalie was not Rina's focus right now--and Rina was too focused, and too unfocused, to notice the subtle changes in the corner of her eye. "Oh. Uh... do you think it's safe, me giving birth?"

Arydath sighed. It had been Nanalie's second lesson: Never lie to a patient. The first had been to never make the patient feel afraid. Then came the third lesson.

Sometimes, you couldn't adhere to both the first and second lessons at once.

"I won't lie to you, Rina; your womb was in rough shape last I examined it and I doubt it could have healed itself naturally, at least to the point where a pregnancy would be sustainable. You said your last course was some time in the earlier half of September?"

Rina drew her hand from Nanalie's, in favor of a meeting with her other one. Her knuckles might have been those of a marble statue. "Around then."

"Was that course any easier on you than any of your previous ones?"

Nanalie took to running prayers in the back of her mind as she caught Rina biting her lip. Even if, by some miracle, the body could repair that sort of damage unaided, it wouldn't have happened in the span of a month. "...No."

"Hmm." Arydath pursed her lips. There was, Nanalie was sure of it, a course of action Arydath would have taken had it been her own self. In the same place--if she let herself think about it--Nanalie had to relent that she'd probably do the same. But, Rina was neither Arydath nor Nanalie, and neither Arydath nor Nanalie could much understand the inner workings of Rina's heart. "I suppose all I can tell you at this point is that I won't make your decision for you. It will be a risky pregnancy, but if you decide it's a risk worth taking, then it's your risk to take and I'll help you take it. If you decide otherwise, I'll help you too. And given how much you have to think about, I don't expect you to decide right away."

Rina's fingers fell to her stomach. A couple twitched at the contact as she swallowed. "Thank you."

"And if you have any questions or concerns, call on me at any time, day or night. I'll tell my household that you're welcome to come as you please. I'm sure you can expect a similar offer from your cousin Nata, as well as your aunt here."

To confirm, Nanalie nodded. She'd been a midwife in her own right for many years now, but with a situation like Rina's, she preferred that Arydath remain the primary authority. Still, Arydath couldn't be everywhere at once. "Absolutely. I can even come stay with you and Severin if you need me to."

Rina gave the slightest of nods, no doubt preferring not to think about what could go so horribly wrong that a midwife would be required to stay in her house. Arydath's eyes fluttered shut--no doubt not keen on the sight of someone in such a state. "For now, all we can do is try to keep you from miscarrying. Make sure to get plenty of rest and eat well, and perhaps cut down your hours at the bank if need be--and tell your husband to keep his hands to himself for the next few months. I'll meet with Aerina this afternoon to discuss potions and tonics; we'll both come by your house as soon as that's been settled."

"All right." Rina drew her hand from her gut and to her chest. Her heart, maybe--as if an answer lurked in its beat, waiting to be found. "Might I leave now? I think I want to be alone for a while."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Alina Does Not Begrudge

September 21, 1195

"What's wrong?" Severin demanded as Alina emerged from the bedroom. He'd been seeing a patient when she'd escorted Rina home from the bank, but he would have heard them come in. His usual clinic hours weren't yet over, but she should have guessed that he'd come upstairs anyway. "Is Rina all right? She's not ill, is she?"

"No, she's not ill. Just..." Reminded? Invoked? God--why wasn't there a word for it? "...recovering from an incident."

"What sort of incident?" Her twin brother knew full well that the bank couldn't be open if neither Alina nor Rina were present, and that Alina choosing to close the bank and take Rina home herself rather than letting her go alone or sending someone else would mean something serious indeed.

And, in spite of himself, he would be sensitive enough to take this particular incident seriously, even if the affected individual hadn't been his own wife. If anything, Alina feared he might take matters into his own hands.

"A couple at the bank today. The husband was giving his wife grief for not being pregnant again three years after the birth of their last child. Kept making it about her worth and how he ought to have married her more fertile sister instead."

As she could have guessed--and would have hoped!--her brother scowled. Severin may not have been the warm and cuddly sort of 'good', but their mother had instilled an unbreakable moral code in all of her children. "Who the hell is this man?"

"I don't know his name; they weren't regular clients. I kicked him out and said that we'd only deal with his wife in the future. I set her up with one of the staff, but Rina had heard the whole thing and had to retire to the vault. I sent the other customers way and closed up once the woman had finished with her business."

"Fuck. Despicable enough that he should say such things to his wife in private." It was no doubt the tamest he could manage, but at his sides, her brother's hands clenched into fists. "How is Rina now?"

"She's calmed down, but still shaken up. I gave her some mead and a bit of cake."

"Thank you. And let me know if you ever get that bastard's name; if he ever comes to see me, I'll find some medical reason to castrate him." She didn't doubt it. She wasn't sure she agreed with the method, but she appreciated the ire. "Can I see her?"

Alina nodded. "She'll probably want you anyway."

Her brother brushed past her and knocked on the bedroom door. "Rina?"

"Yes?"

Permission granted, he headed in. Alina followed, just in case they needed her, though she told herself she'd leave if asked; Rina didn't react to her presence, so she settled herself on the chair by the window.

Severin joined his wife on the bed, equal parts sympathetic and barely hinged. "Men are the worst."

Beside him, Rina shrugged. "A little bit."

He muttered something, too faintly for Alina to hear, but it seemed to lift Rina's spirits somewhat. Alina dug the nail of her thumb into the tip of her index finger. It hadn't been all that long ago when she'd made her own foolish comment to Rina's face, but at least hers hadn't been meant in malice, and she'd been quick to apologize and change the subject. It wasn't, she knew in her heart, a matter of over-sensitivity. Rina could be around small children and pregnant women without issue. She could even tolerate discussion of other people considering having children, so long as no one asked her about her own plans or passed any judgments on people who seemed to have difficulty.

But some comments were personal. Some hit too close to home without warning.

What sort of sick person would begrudge someone being upset in such cases?

At least Rina was smiling now, even if it was a little tired, a little half-hearted. And at least Severin was smiling for her--even if Alina saw behind it a blazing fury only a twin could see.

NEXT CHAPTER: