In Which Lonriad Confides in His Dog

June 22, 1189

"Well, Snowdrop." Lonriad scratched behind the ears of the now-inappropriately-named dog, not nearly so white as the day he'd brought her home. He'd gotten her for Asalaye back when she was a tiny puppy--and back when Asalaye had been pregnant with Sevvie. "You're getting rather up there in dog years, aren't you?"

Snowdrop yipped. Never in a thousand years would Lonriad have imagined that the dog would outlive his wife. It would have taken even longer to entertain the idea that he might one day find another woman he'd even consider marrying.

And yet, both had happened. He still wasn't sure what to do about the latter.

"Do you think Asalaye will understand?" He did still love her. He always would. He knew it, the kids knew it, even the dog probably knew it. But did Asalaye, wherever she was?

The dog sniffed. Helpful.

"I mean... if it had been me, I'd like to think she would have found someone else, eventually. But I guess that's easy for me to say, not knowing what it's like.

"Any point asking you how you'd take it, if you were gone and the stray from the butcher's back alley started humping some other dog?"

A yap. Nope.

"I just... I know enough people who made it work twice to know it's possible to love two people, you know? And if only one of them is alive, and you've had time to make peace with the other, then there's no sense in not trying, is there?"

Was there? Was there any sense in him at the moment?

He was talking to a dog, after all.

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Lonriad Invokes the Other Name

June 10, 1179

"Look, Sevvie!" Lonriad nudged his eldest as Ashe pushed through the door, little Yvanette in his arms. "It's your future wife!"

Sevvie glanced up for the briefest of seconds before returning to his toys, Yvanette's wondering blue eyes a little late for contact. Lonriad himself was on the receiving end of a green glare. "I don't think so."

Chuckling, Lonriad put down the doll he'd been handling and stood, ruffling his son's hair on the way up. "Hear that, sweetheart? Papa says no boy is good enough for his little girl."

Ashe's grip on his daughter tightened as if he feared he might drop her. Yvanette continued to take in the room, blue eyes wide and blond curls abounce. She was such a happy little thing. Lonriad couldn't guess where she got it from. "She was eager to go for a ride. I think she wants to show off her new boots."

"And she should; they're very nice boots." Grinning, Yvanette stretched one leg, the heavy leather grazing her father's torso. They weren't quite what Lonriad would have guessed Rona deemed suitable footwear for her baby girl, but if Yvanette had seen them in town and looked and reached and smiled, he struggled to see her saying no. "Sevvie has a pair like that, but they're prettier on you."

Yvanette beamed, then turned her head and smiled down at Lonriad's son, still thoroughly occupied with his own private play. "Aren't you going to say hello?"

"Hello, Eve'net," Sevvie muttered as Ashe set Yvanette down by the castle. The little girl crawled to her playmate's side and he offered her a doll; she wasn't old enough for the sophistication of play he preferred, but a kid didn't grow up with as many frequently-visiting cousins as he did without learning to share.

"Cute, aren't they?" Lonriad dropped to floor and slid back until stopped by the couch. He'd once overheard Asalaye lamenting that Sevvie took after her side, but it was a fact that he privately relished. He doubted he'd find his son half as adorable had he been some eerie miniature of himself. He wondered if Ashe felt the same about Yvanette. "I have to say, though--if anyone ever asked me to guess the parents of the cutest little girl I'd ever meet, I can't say I would've pegged you as her father."

Ashe sniffed, shooting a wayward glance at Sevvie. But no need; the kid was occupied and engrossed and at his age, he'd never remember any conversation long enough to make sense of it. "Uh..."

"But hey--between you and Rona, you know she's bound to be pretty."

A little queasy, Ashe shuffled to the couch and let himself fall back onto the cushions. God, it was hard to get a laugh out of him. Even Isidro knew a joke when he heard it. Even Sparron could choke up a snicker if he thought it was expected. It was almost to the point where he might as well have stopped trying. "I'm not pretty."

"Well, you used to be." Again, nothing. Perhaps another angle was merited. "You didn't take your boots off, I see. Finally learning?"

That derisive snort was probably the closest to laughter he was ever going to get. He supposed it counted. "I wiped them off when I came in."

"Well, one step at a time. Soon you'll be almost as manly as my sister." As if to prove his point, an open-handed slap landed on the back of his head. "Use a fist next time."

"Noted."

Odd. Comments like that usually merited some form of protest. "You all right?"

For a minute, nothing. Then-- "Yvanette coughed a couple times on the way here."

And seeing as she'd been around for the better part of a year, that was hardly news. "Yes, kids do that. Sevvie had a cough a couple weeks ago; maybe she picked up something from him."

"Or maybe she didn't." Ashe kicked the pillow by the arm of the couch and let his foot drop with as much of a thud! as the cushion would allow. "What if there's something wrong with her? I mean, the way she was conceived and all..."

Oh, brother. "The way she was conceived? Ashe, trust me--if you didn't have the required organs, Jadin would've told me."

"I don't want to talk about my organs!" Sevvie's doll fell headfirst into the castle and Yvanette whimpered. Ashe took a few seconds to collect himself before whispering. "But seriously, what if something's wrong with my... organs, and it affected her? What if she's sick? What if she gets sicker and sicker and dies horribly? Oh God--what if she ends up like me?"

"Ashe..."

"At least I was nobody. She's the duke's niece, for Christ's sake; people wouldn't let her just disappear. And what do you think that would do to Rona? Or if some boy was courting her, how do you think he'd react? And that's all assuming she doesn't die of shock after looking in a mirror. I never should've done this. I shouldn't have won that tournament. I shouldn't have pursued Rona. I shouldn't have--"

"Aspen." That seemed to shut him up, a few rasping breaths aside. Lonriad waited until the kids resumed their play before turning his head. "Aspen, listen to me: there is nothing wrong with Yvanette."

"But--"

"No." Whatever concerns Ashe had, Lonriad didn't see them. What he saw was a sweet little child sitting right in front of him, blond curls springing every which way as she bounced the doll in her hands. He didn't need to see anything else. "She's a very healthy, very normal little girl--and she's going to lead a miserable life if she doesn't know that you see that. So shut up and stop acting like she's about to explode."

A few more shallow gasps leaked out from Ashe's mouth. One last look at Yvanette, Lonriad turned himself to the side. Ashe's eyes were skyward and unblinking, almost like he was praying. "She's the only perfect thing in my life. If something happens to her--"

"Nothing will happen to her."

"But--"

A small, quick-crawling form brushed past Lonriad and pulled herself up using the couch, tiny fingers reaching for her father's beneath the back of his neck. "See?"

The angle wasn't ideal, but nonetheless he thought he saw a hint of a smile. "You can pull yourself up? Has Mama seen this?"

Yvanette continued to paw at him. Lonriad smirked. "I think she's trying to tell you that she's fine."

"Or maybe she's trying to tell me to get my boots off the couch." Ashe turned on his side and stood, scooping up his daughter and kissing her on the cheek. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't scare you, did I?"

Her giggles were as good a 'no' as any. Not quite sure if he was satisfied, Lonriad watched as Ashe nuzzled her little dab of a nose with his own and let her wrap her arms around his neck. "You're all right. You're all right. Please be all right..."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Arydath's Fears Are Unfounded

June 28, 1177

Arydath kicked the door shut and took a second to catch her breath. She'd never been so late for a birth before, but in her defense she hadn't anticipated being needed. This was Laveria's territory--not to mention, Laveria's great-grandchild--but it turned out Laveria was down with a bad summer cold. There was Arydath's own mother, but she was getting up in years and her bad hip didn't let her take on many clients outside the direct vicinity. That left Arydath herself, startled when a frenzied groom had shown up at her gates with the news of Asalaye's labor a shire away.

Though in hindsight... well, she would have made it here more quickly had she not tried to convince one of the twins to come with her. She had five daughters, two of whom were grown and two more nearly so now, and she'd always hoped that at least one of them would follow in her footsteps. Celina and Feoda, however, were every bit as uninterested as Lyraina and Hilla before them; it had been stupid of her to press.

"Sir Lonriad?"

The young man stiffened, his gaze never leaving the puppy in his hands. Oh, he was a tall strong lad now... but Arydath had pulled him from Lady Alina's womb with her own two hands, back when he'd been one of the tiniest, sickliest babies she'd ever seen. Frankly, she'd been startled that he'd survived; what if his own progeny was not so lucky? Or what of the young woman birthing it? Four babies before Lonriad and Lady Alina had never looked so faint.

"I... I've only been here about half an hour or so." The puppy pawed toward him as if to cheer him up; the poor thing's efforts were in vain. "I was out fishing with Searle. Stupid of me, wasn't it? I mean, we knew it would be soon..." The puppy yipped. Lonriad lowered it to the floor, then turned around to meet her eye. He had his father's eyes, and his had the same look to them that the other pair had worn ten years prior, for two years on end.

Oh, the guilt. She supposed she could sympathize... not that there was much he could've done anyway. "As a woman who's been married twice, let me assure you that husbands are all quite useless when it comes to childbirth. Now, who's in there with your wife?"

"Nanalie, plus Asalaye's maid and a couple other servant girls." Arydath raised an eyebrow. Despite not having any children herself, Nanalie wasn't completely lacking in delivery experience--she'd helped with Lyraina's last labor, and apparently Avine's last two as well if either Lyraina or Asalaye was in a position to know--but witnessing three births hardly qualified one to take charge of a fourth. Then again, someone had to take charge. And who knew? Maybe one of the other girls was a little more seasoned. "I went in there when I got back, but Asalaye swore at me and Nanalie kicked me out. One of the girls left a while ago and came back with a cup of something, but other than that I..."

He shook his head, the rest of his body responding in kind; in an attempt to steady him, Arydath placed her hand on his shoulder. "I haven't heard her screaming since the girl went back in. That's bad, isn't it? If she's screaming, then at least she's--she's--"

"Oh, she's fine, you dolt. I wouldn't expect sex any time soon if I were you, but she's fine."

Lonriad looked up and Arydath spun to meet the speaker. It was Nanalie, lingering in the bedroom doorway--and not unaccompanied.

"I sent that girl out to get some mint tea. I told Asalaye it would ease the pains."

Arydath frowned. All her years of midwifery and not one had she heard such a thing. "Does it?"

Nanalie shrugged. "Probably not; I just told her it would. I did the same thing with my father when he dislocated his shoulder last fall."

Well. That was... "Clever."

"Thank you." Nanalie landed a tickle on the baby's stomach as she carried him forward. It appeared that Arydath's fears had been unfounded; it was a wide-eyed, curious-looking little thing, complete a good complexion and a not-unhealthy size. "Anyway, Asalaye said you wanted to name the baby after your mother. Personally, I think his future wife will find that hilarious."

"A boy?" Oh, that grin. He wasn't the first man to have told his wife he didn't care what she had, and doubtlessly wouldn't be the last to have lied about it. Or maybe she was being too hard on him. He was probably just happy everyone made it out alive. "Can I hold him?"

"All right, but he might be disappointed that you don't have any cleavage to swat at. We've got ourselves a little breast man here."

As Nanalie transferred her nephew into her brother-in-law's arms, the baby looked up at Arydath with his grandmother's wide blue eyes, like he was telling her everything was going to be just fine. She returned the stare with a smile; at this point, it was always refreshing just to get something that wasn't outright bawling.

"He has my mother's eyes."

"And probably my father's nose, but I guess a little fellow can't win them all." Nanalie gave the baby a quick kiss, then turned back to Arydath. "Asalaye seemed fine to me, but if you wanted to look her over yourself, it probably wouldn't be the worst idea."

"I agree." She gave the girl a quick nod, then started off toward the bedchamber. "Well done, though."

Yes, well done indeed...

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Nanalie Doesn't Discuss Dogs

June 28, 1177

"Precious little thing, isn't she?" Asalaye cooed as she nuzzled noses with the puppy. Nanalie cringed; clearly the elevation through marriage hadn't come with an increased awareness of personal hygiene, for all her little sister did need it. "I hope she grows up to be just as cute. Lonriad says it's hard to trust the kennel masters around here."

Nanalie raised an eyebrow. Having never been fond of dogs--or animals in general, for that matter--she could agree with the sentiment herself, but it was an odd thought coming from a canine lover like Lonriad. "What do you mean?"

"Apparently they get a kick out of breeding all their dogs to look similar as puppies. It's only when they grow up that you learn what you even bought."

That was quite possibly the dumbest thing she had ever heard. "Is that even possible?"

"I wouldn't have thought so, but it's true. Lonriad says they had a pair of 'twins' once. They had to give them little coats to tell them apart. Green Coat ended up as Viridis's lap dog. Lord Severin uses Red Coat for hunting deer."

"Uh-huh." She didn't think she quite believed it, but she figured she'd let it drop. Not like she'd come all the way up here to spend the afternoon talking about dog breeding. "Well, for your sake, I hope she's cute."

"I likewise." Asalaye lifted the dog to eye level and gave a loving sigh while Nanalie fought the urge to tell her to save it for the baby. "Oh well. No matter how she grows up, I'm sure she'll always be cute to--"

Her voice reached a sudden halt, her eyes wide and startled like she'd just been punched in the gut. She moved her lips as if to say something, but all Nanalie could hear was a stream of fluid colliding with the hardwood. "Nan..."

No, they definitely wouldn't be talking about dogs.

NEXT CHAPTER: