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September 21, 1203
"I still can't believe Ceidrid's old enough to be starting at the school next week! They grow up so fast, don't they?" Her mother's eyes sparkled with pride, but as usual, a pang of guilt hit Dora's heart at the sight. Her mother was, of course, her son's grandmother, and she loved him and doted on him like any of her other grandsons.
But only her mother and Severin and Ylwa knew who she really was. From what Dora could see, Ceidrid loved his grandmother as a grandmotherly figure, loved her like he loved his other grandmother--but he didn't know she was his grandmother. That had been a conflict of brain versus heart, and Dora's brain had triumphed, ruling that Ceidrid would be better off not knowing about his mother's secret past. That didn't mean her heart was free of the consequences, of the agony of the boy not knowing her family as family.
And her mother! Even if her mother knew Ceidrid for her grandson, it wasn't fair that she wasn't known in turn as his grandmother.
"Dora? What's wrong, dear?"
Dora bit her lip. She didn't like to lie to her mother. Even if she had the excuse of her altered memories--and she didn't, not when she'd chosen them--she'd done enough of that.
"I... I'm so sorry that I chose not to tell him. I think it's in his better interests, but I wish he at least knew who you were. And who Father is, and his aunts and uncles and cousins."
Never mind that her father and all but one of her siblings had no idea.
"No need to be sorry, dear. It's... unfortunate, perhaps, but we both know that we can't have it both ways there. And I did promise you that I'd support whatever decisions you made; Lord knows I have no idea what you've been through, so I won't presume to know better."
"Yes, and thank you for that--and everything." But the acceptance, the understanding... surely it didn't undo the hurt. It certainly didn't for the rest of them, who didn't know, who might never know--who might have benefited from not knowing, but who regardless would never know closure, or what they could have had but never did. Her father. Her sisters, brothers. Her husband.
Her son.
"I just... I wish there was another way."
NEXT CHAPTER:
September 12, 1202
"Interesting way of learning that the kids are old enough to come over on their own--all barging in to attack your father before Renalie remembers all of a sudden that she was supposed to tell me to get over here as soon as I could." On a day when she'd thought Severin's clinic was open for business, no less! But the kids hadn't seemed upset, so it couldn't have been an emergency--unless it had been an emergency that they hadn't been told about. Her first thought had been that in spite of everything, Rina had gotten pregnant again, and she and Severin were in a panic over it.
But that couldn't have been the case now, given that Rina was nowhere to be seen and Severin--while somber enough--wasn't in any particular distress.
That said, she spied Dora over his shoulder, seated by the hearth, fingers fidgeting with the fabric of her skirt. "Dora? This is a surprise."
With a distinct twitch, Dora nodded her way, then let her eyes fall to her lap. How odd. Dora was shy, yes, and could be skittish--but she wasn't impolite.
"Well... you see, Mother, it's actually Dora who needs to speak with you. I've just been keeping her company for moral support."
Moral support? For a talk with her? Yes, she liked to think she and Dora were friends--but if Dora wanted a confidante, then surely she would have chosen someone her own age! Come to think of it, Severin likely already knew what she wanted to discuss. Shouldn't he have been sufficient?
"Is everything all right?"
"I think it will be, but I can't blame her for being nervous. Please try to keep an open mind, Mother. I'll be downstairs in the clinic when you're done." He kissed her on the cheek, then cut around her with a swift step and ushered himself out the door.
All as if there was nothing odd about any of this.
Not that she should have been unused to oddness, after all these years of being married to Florian. Thetis made for the empty bench beside Dora's and sighed as she sat down. "You know, he may just be my strangest child."
Dora grimaced. "I don't know about that..."
"Yes, I suppose Alyssin would be up there too. Just never tell either of them how like their father they are--and never tell their father that either." She didn't expect uproarious laughter, but all Dora managed was another forced smile. This in spite of now having met Florian. "I'm sorry, dear. You wanted to talk to me about something?"
"Uh... 'want' isn't really the right word." No--not by the way she bit at her lip. "I don't even know where to start..."
NEXT CHAPTER:
April 30, 1202
"How's she doing?" Thetis's son asked as he shut the door behind him, little more than whispered as he noticed Dora's sleeping form. Florian had given the side-eye when Severin had settled on a career in medicine, insistent that the boy simply didn't like people enough to enjoy it--not that that was a bad thing, of course, but there was only so much satisfaction a puzzle could give if part of solving it required a good bedside manner.
Thetis had disagreed from the start. The proof of it had shown its face when he'd met Rina; he may have been grouchy and socially-averse, but it wasn't for lack of caring. It may have even been for an excess of caring. Working as a physician gave him an outlet for pent-up concern that he was otherwise ill-equipped to express.
"Mmm... not much different from when you were here yesterday, unfortunately. She was awake for a while this morning, but she had to rest again."
Poor girl. The inexplicable illness was one thing, but even more troubling was her panic over her lost memories. Whenever Dora woke, those around her would take care to keep conversation to the present--or to the future, even, thanks to young Ceidrid's creative variety of (mostly) harmless amusement attempts.
But, inevitably, something would remind her that before arrival in Naroni... well, there was nothing to be reminded of.
"I wish there was more we could do. If parents' background was anything like mine or your father's, I don't know if any church would have records of them, but she needs... I don't know. A starting point, at least. Some hint as to who she is and where she came from. Do you suppose trying to trace our own lines back far enough might yield something? She does look so much like--"
"Alyssin." From the foot of the bed, Severin squinted down at her. It might have been two seconds, it might have been a whole minute; there was a fog about the room that both stretched and squeezed time, made any guessed measurement impossible.
But, however long he'd studied her, the day-wide haze broke with a sudden clear-eyed gasp. "...Mother, you don't have anywhere else you need to be today, do you?"
"No, I think Esela and Hamrick can handle anything that comes up at home." Perhaps her soft spots had grown too broad, but she didn't think she could leave Dora for long without any concrete news for anything short of an emergency. But, if that enlightened, end-tying stare toward the window meant anything, concrete news may not have been so distant a thing. "What is it? Do you know why she's sick? What she has? Why she can't remember?"
"No. Not quite." Or--as she knew innately, as the woman who raised him--not with enough certainty for him to say. Yet. "But I know someone who does."
NEXT CHAPTER:
June 21, 1196
"Look, if there really is a God, and you really did piss Him off, killing Rina would be the least imaginative way for an all-powerful deity to punish you." If Florian still had to explain things like that, then he'd failed as a father. At least they'd had Thetis. "I don't know, maybe one of these days you'll wake up with a pair of butterfly wings or something. But Rina's not going to die."
Severin squirmed, dull brown sleeve rustling against its dull brown tunic. Maybe when Rina did survive this dangerous pregnancy, he'd start wearing some more interesting clothes. "There are negative outcomes other than death."
"Again--not going to happen. That punishes Rina, not you."
"Oh, yes, because Rina's never been unjustly punished before."
"Hey, not everything needs a rhyme and reason to it. Maybe God got bored and left us for some other stupid mortal species, and now we're subject to the whims of chaos. If I were God, I would have ditched our sorry asses eons ago, and don't pretend you wouldn't have done the same; you're even more miserable than I am."
"I'm not miserable; I'm just pissed off." As if the uncalled-for thud of his foot didn't say it even better. Not that Florian much minded the motion. It wasn't his floor, and it was an ugly floor anyway. God, this baby was doomed to suffer from horrible taste! "Pissed off, and I'll be a wreck if she dies. I'll be a wreck, and she'll be dead, and I suppose Mother will have to take the baby in because I'll be too drunk off my own self-pity to even care."
"Not going to happen, son. I've had more than enough whining babies under my roof to volunteer to raise someone else's."
"Besides," chimed Thetis's voice from the opening bedroom door, "none of that happened. Rina's as well as any woman I've ever seen."
Ha! There was nothing quite like being right. "Told you. Now, have fun raising one of these perpetual noise-and-shit machines, then apologizing to me for your mere existence. Thetis, what kind is it?"
It was only when her eyes rolled that he noticed just how alike she and Severin looked. "The human kind, Florian."
Florian sniffed. "No need to be snide."
"Never mind that. Severin, come hold the baby."
He did as he was told, probably only because he'd been told, despite the fact he hated doing as he was told. The news of Rina's survival must have rendered him oblivious to everything else. Now might have been an excellent time for Florian to bury his face in Thetis's breasts. "Babies. I guess this one is at least half Rina."
Rina, Rina, Rina. God, Florian's kids were pains in his ass even when they were happy. "It's also half me."
"Nice math, Father."
That was Alina's voice. Florian scowled. "Alina, stop questioning my math and tell me what kind of baby this is."
"That baby, Father?
"Or this one?"
HA! Somehow, the world was a better place knowing that Severin of all people was now stuck with twins. "Both would be nice. Also, I think we've figured out God's plan for Severin's punishment now."
"I guess two half-Rinas makes a whole Rina, right, brother?" Alina teased.
"Anything that stops my eye from twitching."
That, apparently, did not. Florian rubbed his hands together in glee. "I hope they're just as bad as you two were. Now, what kinds are they? Same kind? Different kinds?"
"Same, different? Which baby, compared to which baby?"
Oh, that would have been too good.
Far, far too good! And not. "All right, now there are three of them? And I don't know what kind any of them are?"
At least he knew Severin was probably never going to loose that stunned perma-blink. "Three of them? Really? Three?"
"Three! Hooray, we can all count!" Three new Florians. Or Florianas. Or hell, they could call the girls Florian too, if any of them were girls. It was a manly man's name, but it wasn't ugly. "But seriously, what kinds are they?"
"Father, I think the quantity is the more pressing concern."
Quantity. Florian snorted. "Talk to me about quantity when you have thirteen."
"Most of your thirteen came one at a time." Severin finally managed to curb his rapid-fire eyes--shut. Probably because the inside of his eyelids was now the last baby-free view in his world. "Three. Three. I can't deal with three babies."
"Good thing you don't have three babies, then."
Severin's eyes shot right back open.
"...This seriously can't be happening."
But it was. And God... Florian fucking loved it.
"This is the best day ever!" His most annoying child, now the father of quadruplets. Or more? Nah--surely the world wasn't that kind. "See, that's what you get for yelling at God. Now, are any of you going to tell me what kinds any of them are? Or do I have to unswaddle them myself?"
NEXT CHAPTER:
April 19, 1196
"Rina's taking a nap?" Thetis asked as she pulled up a seat at her son's table. Her daughter-in-law had reached the third trimester of her miraculous pregnancy with far less difficulty than Arydath had said to expect, but no matter how well Rina fared, Severin had been on edge since he'd gotten the news.
In truth, she might have found a lack of an edge more troubling--he wouldn't have been so agitated had he not cared so much about his wife, after all. But as big and grouchy as he was, he was still her baby.
Thetis hated to see her babies hurting.
"Yes." Severin rocked forward in his chair. Once, when he'd been less than a year old, he'd thrown such a violent tantrum that he'd sent his highchair crashing to the floor. "This is all my fault."
"Sweetie, you're a doctor. We both know Rina had to have had some part in it, unless you were a much worse man than you are." And after her first marriage, Thetis had prided herself on not raising boys like that. "These things happen. And Rina seems... very calm about the whole thing, since she made up her mind and got used to the idea. If she's not blaming anyone, then why should you?"
Severin was enough his father's son that she wasn't quite how he'd respond. Even considering that, though, she never would have thought to expect the answer he gave. "Because I tried to call God out on his shit."
Thetis took to massaging her own wrist beneath the table. It wouldn't be long before she had to roll her eyes at the very thought and recount the tale to a giddy Florian. But that wasn't immediate. "Sorry?"
"I went outside, I yelled at the sky, and if my math is correct, Rina would have gotten pregnant within the next few days." Eyes, shut, Severin sighed. "Careful what you wish for, I guess. Careful what you fucking wish for."
"Watch your mouth." Had he still been a child, Thetis might have swatted him across the back of the head, but she instead reached over only to rub his shoulder. A stressed adult had more cause for the occasional profanity than an unruly youth. "It's a coincidence. Odd timing. Plus, if you wished for better for Rina... I don't think God would kill her just to punish you."
"We might have different opinions on God, then."
"Maybe." She took her hand from his shoulder and brushed some of his hair back from his face. "I suppose for now, we'll just both have to hope that mine is right."
NEXT CHAPTER:
August 18, 1194
"So... it's only a few more weeks before Alina starts her leave." Esela said it mainly for the sake of something to say. Thetis was well aware of when Alina started her leave, but with the level of conversation required to distract the household these days, it was the most relevant topic not to have been exhausted.
That wouldn't last for long. "Yes, not long now."
"Will you be staying with her?"
Her mother-in-law nodded. Esela took that mostly with relief; with all this worry over Teodrin, maybe Thetis needed a change in walls.
"Perhaps I'll send Leonora along with you, in case you and Alina need help around the house."
"Oh, I doubt she'd enjoy that."
Esela doubted it too, but that was hardly her main concern. "Maybe not, but it never hurts to have an extra pair of hands around with a new baby, and Leonora's at the age now where a little extra work shouldn't be unexpected."
"Still, I'd feel better if you at least asked her to come with me rather than told her to." Thetis sighed. As far as Esela knew, the poor woman had never thought of herself a day in her life--and a missing son was how the world repaid her. "We should be fine if she chooses not to; Jothein works just downstairs, after all."
"I suppose so."
But maybe it was in Thetis's better interests if she could just focus more on her newest grandchild, without much interference from anyone else? A present and demanding baby would leave little time for thinking about Teodrin.
That, or the stress of the two combined would be too much to handle.
"Any chance that Florian might go along with you?" Her father-in-law, going by his oddly... well, not-odd behavior of late, might have needed a change too.
"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to ask." Her mother-in-law adjusted the pillow behind her back and sighed. "I'm sure the baron would be willing to give him some time."
NEXT CHAPTER:
April 16, 1194
"It's good of you to come and visit, dear," Thetis assured her son, though she privately wasn't surprised to see him. On the weekends, Aldhein went with Shahira to her parents' place to visit little Isidro--and while Teodrin didn't seem to have any explicit issues with the other young men in their residence, he wasn't fond enough of any of them to stick around for an entire two days without classes. Thetis saw Teodrin more weekends than not. "We've been taking good care of your cat--though if you find that she's been trained to ride sheep, blame your father."
"Uh... thanks?"
Thetis smiled, or at least tried to. Teodrin had never quite known what to say about anything, even a simple favor. "Not at all. I'm assuming you'll want to take her wherever you decide to live after you graduate." A worrisome thought, how soon that would be.
Teodrin shrugged. "I guess so."
"Have you thought about that at all?" She thought she knew the answer to that. But, given that most non-firstborns tended to want to stretch their wings and fly away at their first opportunity, perhaps it was worth asking?
Her son sighed. Her hope, she knew, had been false. "I don't know."
"Well, you know you're always welcome to stay here for as long as you like." Though--for his sake--she hoped it wasn't permanently. The poor boy had had some setbacks in life, but surely it wouldn't do him any good to spend his prime years moping around his childhood bedroom.
But... she didn't want to push him either. It seemed he had so little opportunity for comfort.
"I don't know if where to live is my biggest concern right now."
"Hmm?" Thetis raised an eyebrow. Employment, perhaps? He may not have had the people skills to run his own counseling center, but surely Orrick Wythleit over in Ravenhold would be needing some help. She made a note to ask Falidor about it.
"Oh. Nothing." It wasn't nothing--not if that swallow was any indication. But, if Thetis had learned anything as a mother of fourteen... well, it was that children were individuals. Individuals were people. People were entitled to their secrets, even when it would have been in their better interests to share. "Forget I said that."
She wouldn't.
But, for the next however odd minutes, she'd try to. "All right. Care for a piece of the pie your sister made for dessert yesterday? It's quite good."
NEXT CHAPTER:
January 7, 1191
"Alina! Your great taste never fails to impress me." Ellie, looking tasteful herself in a lovely red and gold dress Lady Rona had given her, squealed as she gave her sister a hug. "Yellow and pink. A welcome touch of spring for a winter wedding."
"A winter wedding without snow on the ground," muttered Alyssin from the bench. Beside her, Evera shot her a warning glare, but Thetis let it slide. A comment on the weather was merely a comment on the weather. Alyssin was very much her father's daughter and therefore didn't care much for emotional events--but like her father, she wouldn't ruin Alina's special day in any way Alina herself hadn't sanctioned.
"The colors were a splendid choice, dear," Thetis agreed. Blushing, Alina smiled; she'd probably worried that her parents would question a dress that wasn't pure white, as if they didn't have more important things to worry about. "Don't you agree, Rina?"
"Definitely." Rina must have felt so out of place among all the yellows and golds in the room--and being the only young woman in the room who hadn't spent nine months in Thetis's middle. She would be Thetis's daughter-in-law before the year was up, but her other daughters-in-law had opted not to help Alina prepare, as there would be enough of a crowd and someone needed to mind the children (and Florian). But Rina knew only Alina well, and it was important that she get to know Severin's other siblings.
The three oldest girls would make for a reasonable start. Evera liked everybody. Ellie could be shy at first, but if one made an effort, she'd double it in return. Alyssin could be tough to please, but Severin was even tougher to please and Alyssin knew that--so if Severin loved this young woman, there had to be something Alyssin could at least like about her.
"You should see the fabric Father picked out for Severin's wedding tunic." Alina grinned with wicked glee. "It's so yellow it makes this dress look blue! Mother, promise me you'll let me be there when Father shows it to him."
Thetis sighed. In Severin's mind, love of one's family came with no obligation to love or even tolerate one's family colors as well. In Florian's mind, notice of one's lack of fondness for their family colors came with every obligation to force the colors upon said person whenever possible. "Don't give your brother a hard time."
"Why not?" Alyssin craned her neck to the side and cracked it--to Ellie's obvious alarm. "He always gives everyone else a hard time."
Evera squirmed in her seat. "I don't think it matters anyway. Severin obviously loves Rina more than life itself. He'd still marry her even if he had to wear Alina's dress."
Alyssin snorted. "What do you think of that, Rina?"
Rina allowed herself a quick roll of the eyes before quipping back. "I think it would be a shame to let him stretch the pretty thing."
"As much as I'd love to see it, I have to agree--and the bride is always right on her wedding day." Alina winked. "Make note of that, Rina. The sky can be red if you want it to be, because no one will dare argue otherwise."
"I'm sure I'll find something better to be right about."
Alina laughed--and so did Thetis. "You may not be the bride today, but I believe you're right about that."
NEXT CHAPTER:
