Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.
Summary: The General of Narnia can handle anything. Even this unexpected change. He hopes.
A/N: This story is the sequel to Christmas Surprise and comes before Sweethearts and Sweetings, which is on the fringe of my A Light in the Darkness universe and is officially AU to the main series. Enjoy!
A Changing
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"You're sure you can handle this?"
Oreius gave a slight bow. "Of course, Your Highness. I am certain the task ahead is not entirely beyond my grasp."
A moment later, he grunted as a slender fist connected with his ribs. Alambiel glared at him. "I've half a mind to leave Leeta here so she can take care of Oriana. Being cheeky is not allowed."
He considered giving a proper response but then he noticed his wife's hand was resting precariously near the sheathed dagger on her dressing table. He inclined his head slightly. "My apologies, Wife. However, I am perfectly capable of watching our little filly for the few minutes you will be absent from our quarters and I've no business that must be attended to until this afternoon."
Alambiel glared at him once more and then her expression completely transformed as she went back over to the crib. A soft smile curled her lips as she reached down and adjusted the blankets covering their daughter's swaddled form for the twenty-seventh time in the last half hour (not that he was foolish enough to mention it or that he was keeping track of such things). Oreius stayed in the nursery door, watching from a safe distance. In the four and a half weeks since Oriana's birth, he had learned that Alambiel's maternal protectiveness did not exclude him as a possible threat to her foal, even if he was the sire. A fact that was more amusing when she was not armed. Keeping her voice low, Alambiel murmured, "She's fed and she's only been sleeping for a half hour, so as long as you don't make any loud noises to disturb her, she should stay asleep the whole time I'm away."
"I understand."
Alambiel straightened, her smile fading as a warning gleam entered her gaze. "And, don't open the curtains. It's snowing and much too cold for her right now."
He glanced at the thick drapes. "I won't."
"And, Oreius?"
He looked back at her to find that his wife was now directly in front of him and the warning gleam still hadn't faded from her intense gaze. He resisted the sudden urge to step away from her. He was not afraid of his wife . . . but he did wish that he knew how many knives she had at the present. "Yes?"
"Don't forget that the Dogs are not welcome in our quarters because the idiots can never remember to keep quiet when they come for a visit and their barking always disturbs Oriana."
"No Dogs," he echoed even as Alambiel swept around him to pick up a large shawl and drape it around herself.
She nodded then collected a basket of sewing and shoved two files into it. "And, don't undo her swaddling."
Apparently, he was still in trouble for not figuring out how to properly swaddle the foal a fortnight ago. "Yes, Wife."
Oreius continued trailing in her wake as Alambiel finally began to move toward the outer doors, still issuing instructions, "And, Peridan has a cold. Don't let him in."
"I understand."
"And, don't forget to stay with Oriana." She gave him a pointed look. "And, if she shows any sign of distress, summon Tuulea. I'll come with her. Just don't drag her into the healers' wing. There was an incident with one of the junior healers frightening a Skunk family earlier this morn and, well, they're still airing the rooms out so the entire wing is freezing."
"I understand." He stole a kiss just before she spun away and left with the door closing softly in her wake. Chuckling to himself over Alambiel's instructions, Oreius walked back into the nursery and then braced his forearms against the crib's railing as he gazed down at his tiny filly. Keeping his voice at a low whisper, he rumbled, "Your mama's list of what I shouldn't do is growing, little one. No curtains, no Dogs, absolutely no Peridan, no going to the healers' wing, and what else? Ah, yes, no unwrapping you. And, no waking you."
The foal didn't open her eyes. Although, her little rosebud of a mouth opened slightly as she tried to suckle in her sleep. Oreius smiled down at her, marveling once again that this rather tightly bundled miracle was truly his. Unable to resist, he stretched out his hand and carefully brushed the tip of one large, dark finger against his daughter's fair cheek. She turned her head, mouth still moving, toward his finger but he kept away from her mouth. Oriana's eyes fluttered open and her unfocused gaze stared up at him. A squeaky cry escaped her.
Oreius winced and glanced at the nursery door. Not even five minutes. However, Alambiel didn't come rushing in, snarling at him for waking the filly. It seemed she had actually gone to her meeting with Tuulea and some of the other ladies of the Cair (although he wasn't entirely certain what the meeting was about). He glanced back down at Oriana, who fussed quietly. Picking her up, he snuggled her in the crook of his arm and kept his other hand protectively braced against her torso, the tips of his fingers just butting up against her tiny chin. Murmuring nonsense to the filly, he hoped to lull her back to sleep. When that failed and her fussing began to gain strength, he switched to humming the lullaby of his people.
Oriana still fussed and then Oreius felt dampness against his supporting arm. "Oh." Carrying the little one to the changing table, Oreius laid her down and then began to carefully unwrap her swaddling. He glanced at the foal. "I know, your mama said I was not to undo your swaddling. However, in this particular case, I think she will understand." He paused just as the rest of the swaddling went lax. "I've forgotten something."
He glanced around, trying to think of what he was forgetting, and then his eyes lit upon the neat stacks of clean nappies and gowns and blankets. "Ah." Nappies would be the most important. He grabbed one neatly folded cloth triangle. Oriana wriggled in the mass of blankets and her fussing took on a shrill edge causing her sire to abandon the task of grabbing a gown or fresh blankets as he quickly turned back to the filly. He looked from the clean nappy to the wriggling blankets then set the clean nappy to one side. He pulled the little gown off and then, as he had observed her dam do, he carefully lifted Oriana's feet and observed the decidedly wet nappy sagging around her.
Oreius set her feet down again, smiling slightly as his daughter gurgled in apparent amusement. Then, he stared at the pins holding her sagging nappy in place. He wasn't sure he knew how to get them out. Perhaps he should simply lift the foal and allow gravity to work. Carefully picking his filly up (and being sure to support her head and neck), Oreius held her so the nappy would fall off but it only sagged a little closer to her chubby knees. "Humph."
He laid her back down and then worked at the pins until they finally came loose and he was able to lift Oriana free of the nappy. He carefully set her down on the soft toweling covering the changing table and then scooped the soiled blankets, gown, and nappy up and tossed them into the basket next to the table. He looked back at the squirming filly. "What else does your mama do?"
Oriana's only reply was to blow spit bubbles as she waved her fists in the air. He glanced at the clean nappy but didn't grab it yet. Instead, he found a soft washcloth and carefully wiped the filly with it before tossing it into the basket too. He paused again, allowing Oriana to grab one of his fingers, her tiny fist not yet able to wrap all the way around it, as he went over what he had seen when watching Alambiel change the filly's nappies. If she had not done it, then the task was taken care of by Leeta or Tuulea or even Queen Susan and the High King (both times occurring when Alambiel had not been around to protest). He had never been left alone with Oriana long enough for a nappy change to be necessary before now. "I should have let your mama teach me as she wanted. Although, that was with other sires' foals. I have no desire to change any nappies that don't come from my own foal."
Oriana blew more spit bubbles. Oreius chuckled as he tickled her chin, making her squeal and wave her fists about more as her little feet kicked up. "Now for your new nappy." He picked up the little cloth triangle and it unfolded into a sheet. He stared from the cloth to his daughter then he pursed his lips. It should not be that difficult a task. Alambiel was putting nappies on their daughter in the middle of the night, after all. If she could do it when half asleep, surely he could do it while wide awake.
Oreius folded the cloth back into a triangle and then carefully lifted Oriana's legs up so he could slide the nappy beneath her. The filly squirmed when he let her down again and kicked her legs out as vigorously as any young Centaur foal. Never mind that she only had two legs. He had no doubt that as soon as she was able, his filly would enjoy running through life and kick even more than her dam. A swell of pride filled his heart and he leaned down to press a kiss to her little brow. "My fierce little filly." Straightening, he pulled the nappy's wings and tail into place, muttering under his breath, "Tail first and then each wing." He knotted the last knot and picked the filly up. "There." No sooner had he spoken then the nappy slid right off to crumple on the changing table and Oriana gurgled, offering him a gummy smile as she patted at his arms. Oreius sighed.
What had he done wrong? Laying his daughter back down, he tossed the hopelessly knotted nappy into the basket and grabbed a fresh one from the stack. Although, this time he was careful not to let it fall out of shape. Instead, he unfolded it until the triangle was big enough to slide beneath her. Tail. Wings. His gaze fell on the pins he had taken out of her old nappy. Of course. He picked them up and quickly pinned the wings to the tail of nappy. "Now, it is secure."
He picked Oriana up and the nappy sagged alarmingly. Then, it slid off her.
Oriana started blowing spit bubbles again, completely unperturbed by the difficulty her sire was having with what should have been a very simple task. He desperately hoped that she would not have need of the nappy before he could get it on her. That would be very . . . unfortunate.
He put the nappy's wings and tail in place once more. "Tighter, perhaps." He pulled the wing more snugly against her and then he prepared the pin. Oriana kicked and wriggled just as the pin went into the cloth and then she shrieked. Oreius jerked, the pin pulling free, as the filly curled her legs up and immediately began bawling. "What happened?" There was no answer, of course. He swiftly pulled back the nappy's wing and his breath caught when he saw the bright drop of red marring Oriana's fair skin near the top of her little thigh. He grabbed a cleaning cloth and carefully dabbed the blood away. "I'm sorry, little one. Da is so sorry."
His murmuring didn't stop her bawls. However, he did feel some relief that the pinprick didn't seem too deep. Although, he would have Tuulea check her to be safe (Alambiel would carve his heart out slowly if she found out he had injured their daughter, accident or no). Abandoning the pins for now, Oreius carefully knotted the nappy in place and then picked his sobbing daughter up. "Shh, Da has you. Da has you, my little Oriana." He rocked her, holding her against his heart and murmuring soothingly to her until her cries finally began to die down.
"Poor filly," he murmured as her bawling slowed to little hiccoughing breaths. "Poor filly, Da is so sorry."
Oriana hiccupped and he picked up the cleaning cloth again, his heart twisting with guilt as he caught sight of the blood staining it until he folded it over, and then he gently wiped her face of the tears, mucus, and spit. Her little face scrunched suddenly and the nappy grew heavy. Oreius sighed. "Another nappy change then."
It was much worse than the wet nappy. That was all he allowed himself to think as he once more got rid of the soiled nappy and cleaned the filly up. He put her down on the next clean nappy and, reluctantly, reached for the pins again. He noticed that Oriana wasn't wriggling as much and a glance proved that her eyelids were drooping. Nearly worn out again. That was good. Hopefully she would be asleep by the time Alambiel returned.
The pins rested in his palm. Their pointed ends seemed dangerously sharp as he stared at them. He wasn't certain that he wanted them anywhere near his daughter. At least, not when being wielded by his own incompetent hands. Any weapon he could handle without bringing harm to an innocent, but a simple pin and he had already injured the most precious and utterly helpless member of his herd. Oriana sighed, her round tummy moving with every breath, and Oreius couldn't help but marvel at her trust in him. At the moment, he certainly did not feel deserving of it.
He glanced at the pins again. It was tempting to just knot the nappy in place and leave it until Alambiel was able to change her. However, that would mean admitting defeat to a ridiculous piece of cloth. He was Oriana's sire. He could and would master the deceptively simple art of changing his daughter's nappy.
Determined but cautious, Oreius once more pulled the wing of the nappy snugly against Oriana's hip. He slipped the pin through the layers of cloth, only releasing the breath he'd unknowingly held when the end appeared through the cloth again and he was able to close the pin. Oriana's breathing was growing steadily slower as sleep enveloped his little filly. Feeling slightly more confident, Oreius repeated his actions to the other wing.
The nappy looked right. Oriana had not suffered further injury, thank Aslan. And, she was nearly asleep again. Carefully picking her up, Oreius cradled the filly against his chest and kissed the top of her head. She just gave a little sigh. And, the nappy did not fall off or sag.
He knew he should put her in a gown or wrap her in a blanket. However, in that moment, Oreius was content just to hold her. He finally turned away from the changing table and froze.
Alambiel was sitting in one of the rocking chairs, her eyes on him. Her gaze flicked to Oriana and then she looked back up at him. He didn't say anything. She rose and approached him, her gaze still more on the foal. Who was most definitely not swaddled.
Oreius swallowed then asked in a soft whisper, "How long have you been back?"
"Since your first try."
He tensed, realizing that she had been there for everything, including the fact that he'd injured Oriana. "The pin-"
"Oriana wriggles." Alambiel seemed remarkably calm and not at all like the fiercely protective dam he'd been living with for the last four and a half weeks. She glanced at him and added very softly, "It's also not the first time she's been pricked. Although, you definitely handled it better than I did the first time it happened. She was three days old. She cried. I cried more. And, you missed all the drama."
Alambiel had also . . . He stared at her. "I do not know how deep it bit." He began to shift his hold on the foal to give her to her dam but Alambiel shook her head.
"You handled it a lot better than I thought you would when I came back to find you attempting to change our daughter's nappy. Took a bit long but at least you succeeded."
"Why did you not take over the task?"
"Oh." A hint of mischief entered Alambiel's eyes as she answered sweetly, "I didn't want to interrupt your lesson. A sire should know how to change his daughter's nappy, after all."
Oreius huffed. "I know how to change a nappy, Wife."
She snickered. "Now."
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A/N: Please Read and Review! So, that wasn't as painless and easy as Oreius thought, lol. Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one.