A/N: This has been re-written and characters have been added or removed, to better fit in with the re-written universe of And the Road wanders. Apologies for the confusion.
Some days, Aldariel muses, he wonders why he decided having more children was a good idea. Especially when they are intent on getting into trouble most days.
His eldest son, Nandil, glares up at him, his eyes only a few shades darker than his mother's, his hands pale fists at his sides. His mouth is twisted into a frown.
Aldariel leans back in his chair at the dining room table, setting his quill back into the inkpot and ignoring his letter for the moment. Sunlight slants through the open windows, the curtains bound back, and the distant sound of the market can be heard.
"Would you tell me what happened?" Aldariel prompts his son as the minutes drift by and his child says nothing.
Nandil mumbles something under his breath.
"A little louder, if you would," Aldariel says, "I have not the ears of a hawk, my son."
In the kitchen, there is the sound of something wooden hitting the floor, and a soft "Oh, dear," from Ilymnari.
"Everything alright back there?" Aldariel calls. It's unusual for Ilymnari to drop items while working in the kitchen to begin with but in the eighth month of pregnancy with their fourth child, she has begun to struggle with even the simple things. Aldariel fears for the actual birth, as all the signs have pointed to a difficult labor…
"Fine!" Neria shouts, "Alma just dropped a bowl, it's fine!"
"I'm alright," Ilymnari says, "Just a surprise kick is all."
"If you say so," Aldariel replies, refocusing on Nandil who is trying to sneak away. Aldariel grabs the back of his tunic and gently pulls him back. "We're not done here, Nandil," Aldariel says softly. "I would like you to tell me what happened this morning."
Nandil looks away and mumbles again.
Aldariel clears his throat.
"I egged Thane Greymist's house, and then an egg whacked Miss Greymist in the nose…" Nandil says sullenly.
"And why did you egg Thane Greymist's house?" Aldariel asks.
"Because he was being snooty and picking on Miss Cinna!" Nandil says.
Aldariel suppresses a snort of laughter. For some reason or another, Nandil has taken a shine to Thane Cinna, a Bosmer newly come to court and who currently resides in the small house opposite Falk Firebeard's.
Erikur doesn't like her, though Aldariel can't imagine why. She's a kind woman, quick on her feet in a fight and devotes herself wholly to her work.
"And he called her a-a whore!" Nandil says, eyes wide, "And Alma says that's a bad word!"
"Alma is correct," Aldariel says. "And you should never call anyone that. Ever."
He holds his son's gaze, making sure the message was understood. Then, "Did you mean to hit Miss Greymist with an egg?"
"No," Nandil says. "I didn't see her, honest! She poked her head out of the window, and I didn't mean to hit her, Ata, I swear!"
"Did you apologize?" Aldariel asks. "Even if you didn't mean to hit her, you still did. You should apologize for hurt, unintentional though it was."
"I said I was sorry," Nandil mumbles, looking away from Aldariel's stern gaze.
"Where she could hear it?" Aldariel asks because he's knows well enough Nandil's tendency to bolt when he gets caught doing something he shouldn't.
"No…" Nandil says sullenly.
"Come with me then," Aldariel says, standing and tugging Nandil after him.
Nandil resists for a moment, dragging his heels before relenting and following his father.
Gisli Greymist frowns through Nandil's quiet apology but accepts it with a nod. "If you must get revenge on my pompous brother," she informs him lowly, "Don't involve me."
"Yes, Miss Greymist," Nandil says, managing to look the woman in the eye. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."
"See that it doesn't," Gisli says sternly before turning to look at Aldariel. "And you should watch him closer."
Aldariel smiles. "Well, I have only one set of eyes, Miss Greymist," he says politely, "but I will endeavor to keep a closer eye on him."
Gisli scowls at him. "I should hope so. Good day, thane."
"Good day," Aldariel replies as she stalks away, slamming the front door behind her. "Really, she's lucky I'm doing anything about this mess," he gestures to the broken eggs that linger against the stone and wood of the Greymist house.
Aldariel waves a hand, concentrating and the eggs vanish silently. The two then walk quietly back to the manor.
"And you," Aldariel says, turning to Nandil as they arrive at the front door, "Will be helping your mother with supper for the rest of your punishment," Aldariel says. "Peeling ash yams is rather tiring on her and you can certainly assist."
Nandil makes a face. He hates peeling ash yams, as the vegetables have a tough skin that even after soaking took some work to peel.
"But Neria's already helping her," he says, clearly trying to find a way to wriggle out of the work.
"Yes, she is, and with two more hands, the work will go faster," Aldariel says smoothly, pushing the door open and nudging Nandil through it. "Go on."
Nandil grumbles but makes his way to the kitchen.
"What'd Nandil do?" Daris asks, coming down the stairs.
"Egged Greymist's house," Aldariel says. "Could you come help me with setting the table? Your Aunt is going to be here for supper."
Daris beams. He adores his aunt Taralin and is always begging her for stories about her journeys. "Yes, Ata!" he darts forward to hug Aldariel and then dashes into the kitchen.
A knock at the door diverts his attention and Aldariel opens it to find his twin sister on the other side.
"Aldariel!" Taralin says, embracing him. "How are you?"
"I'm well," Aldariel says, "You're early."
"The roads were surprisingly empty, so I made better time," Taralin says, tossing her pale braid over her shoulder. She stands at equal height with Aldariel, with rounder features than he, though they share the same eyes.
"Better empty roads than ones teeming with bandits," Aldariel says, "Come in, I'll let the others know you're here."
Taralin leaves her dusty boots in the entryway as Aldariel shuts the door.
Noise bubbles from the kitchen, the sound of clattering plates and Neria corralling her younger brothers spilling out into the rest of the house.
Aldariel peers in to find Ilymnari seated in her usual chair while Daris and Nandil peel yams. Daris has apparently set the table in record time and decided to help his brother. Neria is dicing the peeled yams and tossing them into the soup pot.
Ilymnari looks tired, rubbing one hand against her swollen belly.
Aldariel walks to her, leaning down to kiss her temple. "Taralin has arrived early, my dear."
"Oh, that's good," Ilymnari says, looking past Aldariel to offer a wave to Taralin who is standing in the doorway. "Hello."
"Hi," Taralin says. "How are you feeling?"
"Tired. Only a month now," she says with a grimace, "And this one is not making it any easier."
"Only a month, though," Taralin says.
Ilymnari nods. "Supper might be a while," she says, waving a hand towards her children.
"That's fine," Taralin says with a grin. "I can wait."
Supper isn't served until nearly an hour later, as Daris accidently knocks over the bucket of soaking yams and everyone save Ilymnari scrambles to grab the yams before they are squashed underfoot.
But supper is served eventually, and the happy chatter of Aldariel's family swells to fill the room. It is, Aldariel thinks, a perfect day in Solitude.