Stepping in to the empty foyer, Agronak glanced around, feeling distinctly awkward. He'd been welcomed here several times before, but only as a guest. Hopefully they wouldn't change their attitudes about him when they learnt of his plans to become one of them in a more permanent way...
Cerisse gave his hand a reassuring squeeze as the light tread from the upper hallway reached his ears. Ah, well, he'd learn the truth of it soon enough.
"Reesy!" Evie's happy welcome burst through the air as she bustled down the staircase. "You're back already. And you've brought Agronak to visit again." She turned her smile to her visitor. "I thought you were leaving us to return home. I'm glad you've stayed on, it is ever so nice to have company...oh." For the first time, Agronak witnessed a remarkable sight—Evie falling silent as her lips twitched, the poor woman trying hard to suppress a smile and a flurry of questions as she stared at her daughter's dainty hand enveloped in his massive grey one.
"Mama," Cerisse quickly spoke as she tugged her hand away, taking advantage of the unnatural pause in her mother's usual banter, "where's Papa? There's something I need to discuss with both of you."
"Oh?" Evie couldn't help asking, though she managed to restrain her follow up questions. Her eyes glittered as her eyebrow arched and her mouth curled in—now he knew where Cerisse got that habit from. "He's in his study. Let me go fetch him." She broke out into a grin before stalking off down the hallway, her quiet calls to Alabyval becoming strident and demanding as soon as she turned the corridor.
"I don't think you'll have to worry about Mama's opinion," Cerisse whispered to him, giving Agronak a relieved smile. He tilted her chin up, preparing to kiss her, but a friendly voice in greeting halted the motion. He stepped away from her, under the impression she wasn't very comfortable with much physical contact around her family until this was all sorted out.
"Well stick a collar on me and call me a pahmar-raht,"a young man—yet another Hawkton, judging by his resemblance to Alabyval—hailed as he stepped out of the library. "If it isn't the Grey Prince himself in our entranceway. Ri Ri said you'd left High Rock."
"Mordy!" Cerisse ran over to greet her brother with a hug. "You're back from Elsweyr! Did you get those shipping agreements settled?" Suddenly recalling the rules of politeness, she waved a hand over to Agronak while tugging her brother's arm, pulling him down the hall. "Let me introduce you. This is Lord Lovidicus, Agronak gro-Malog, of Crowhaven." Turning to Agronak, she nodded over to her sibling. "This is Mordistyr, the middle brother."
"Pleased to make your acquaintance," Agronak offered, shaking the man's hand. He wondered if Mordistyr didn't look exactly like Alabyval had decades ago—the resemblance was uncanny. Though unlike his father the young man's skin was deeply tanned from days spent at sea, sun scorching flesh from both above and below as it reflected off vast stretches of water.
"Good to meet you. Y'know, I saw you fight years ago," Mordistyr stated before looking to Cerisse. "Reesy, you wouldn't believe how fast he can move. He's amazing to see in action."
"Really?" Cerisse murmured, winking conspiratorially at Agronak.
Mordistyr didn't notice, having turned back to Agronak. "Wish I'd known how true the rumours were. Wouldn't have bet on that other fellow," he admitted with a sheepish smile. "I saw you a second time, but you weren't fighting. I was in Cyrodiil when they announced your retirement—managed to get a seat at the battle for the new grand champion." The Breton snorted, shaking his head, a couple of curly tendrils escaping from his ribbon to bounce with the movement. "Still can't believe that weirdly-armoured woman won with a staff. Everyone was sure it would've been the Nord."
"Everyone didn't know I'd been helping her train for weeks," Agronak stated, a little smug. Good thing too—he was sure Lilia wouldn't have survived without his pointers. Sometimes he wondered how she'd done as well in the Arena as she had before he and Synderius stepped in. She had some skill, true, but she had the oddest methods of fighting...
"Really? So you know her real name? And don't tell me about that ridiculous rumour of her being our Empress, because that's just...no," Mordistyr gasped as he correctly interpreted Agronak's amused smirk. "Can't be. I've seen her in passing a few times, but she always looked so...regal. The hair's the same colour, but she can't really be the same person—I mean, that armour she wore, not a piece matched..." he trailed off as he thought about the concept, a chuckle escaping him. "Good thing she doesn't still carry around that ugly staff."
"She's just got a new one, much more appropriate," Agronak murmured, noting Cerisse cover up her snicker with a pretend cough.
"Ah, well, who's the new grand champion now? Last I heard it was some woman out of Leyawiin with a thing for axes." Mordistyr swiped the air as he mimed two axes slicing through opponents.
"Really? I'd heard it was a little Bosmer fellow with orange hair," Gondyn stated as he walked down the hall. "I remember because he sounds like somebody I once met." He drew near, made a show of looking Agronak up and down, then spoke with one his eyebrow wiggles. "You're back. Again. I don't see any roots coming out of your shoes, so that doesn't explain why we can't get rid of you. Nice shoes, by the way. Another new pair? You're almost as bad as Ri Ri..."
"Dyn," Cerisse warned, her lips curled up with delight. "Behave."
"Reesy, have you not paid the poor man in anything but shoes yet? Mara's mercy, let him go home already. Just because you...hey!" Gondyn dodged out of the way of her darting fingers, narrowly avoiding a tickle. "Too slow...oh, damn!" Unfortunately for him his movements brought him within reach of his brother, the nimble man, with a speed and strength Agronak didn't doubt came from hours spent climbing ropes and dodging wayward cargo during storms, grabbing Gondyn in a modified head lock.
With her quarry captive, Cerisse began to tickle him mercilessly. "It's good to have you back, Mordy," she said loudly, over Gondyn's gasping laughter. "Dyn's been a complete jekosiit since you left."
"Cerisse Hawkton, what have I told you about using such language?" Alabyval asked, the hall falling silent as Mordistyr (reluctantly) let Gondyn go.
"If I'm going to swear, do it right," Cerisse answered with a sigh.
"Exactly," Alabyval nodded, stamping his cane for emphasis. "Remember, the je- part should sound rough, like you're coughing out the slur—"
"Dear," Evie interrupted as she tugged on her husband's arm. "You'll have plenty of time to discuss that later. There's something Reesy had to tell us." She beamed over at her daughter.
Cerisse frowned, looking between her brothers—Gondyn raising an eyebrow at her, Mordistyr contemplating her with a stern expression—before pointing towards a near door. "In private, Mama."
"Ah, yes, of course," Evie chirped, waving a hand at her sons. "Boys, if you're going to wrestle, go do it outside. You know it's not allowed near the sculptures."
"C'mon, I know Ri Ri'll be delighted to see you again," Mordistyr called to Agronak, pointing in the direction of the back door.
"No," Cerisse stammered, slight blush creeping onto her face as she grew flustered, "I need him for a moment first."
"It's alright, Mordy," Gondyn muttered, giving his brother a slightly too firm pat on the arm, "he knows where to find us. Let me show you the newest changes to the garden."
"Right, the garden," Mordistyr replied. Their use of the word, tainted with a hint of conspiracy, set Agronak on edge. One Hawkton brother was bad enough, but two? He wasn't sure if the mischief would simply add together, or even worse, multiply.
"Dear, why are you pushing me?" Alabyval complained as the brothers walked away down the hall, leaving the remainder of them to adjourn to the salon. Or was it the parlour? Other than the library that didn't look like a library, Agronak always got the names of the rooms confused.
It took a moment for them to get settled on opposing settees, Alabyval growing increasingly frustrated with Evie's flurry of helpful pressures as she tried to make him move faster. Agronak didn't appreciate her nervous excitement—while he had a good idea of her opinions on the matter, he wasn't sure what Alabyval would have to say. Irritating the man before they got a chance to speak wouldn't make it easier if he had any reservations.
"Now, Reesy, what did you have to tell us?" Evie asked, grabbing Alabyval's hand to somehow pat, rub, and squeeze it at once. The woman never did seem to do only one thing at a time—except when it came to her art.
"Mama, Papa," Cerisse began hesitantly, nodding at Evie and then Alabyval, "I've got something to say. It may be a bit of a surprise." She paused when Alabyval dryly raised his eyebrows at her, clearly expecting something unpleasant, before plunging in. "I...we," Cerisse reached over to lace her fingers in Agronak's, "are getting married."
Evie's twitters of delight were drowned out by the shriek from the window, Ria's head popping into view as she let out a high-pitched squeal of happiness. Gondyn's and Mordistyr's mildly guilty-looking faces soon joined hers. Agronak ruefully noted Gondyn's eyebrows were wiggling so much he expected they'd crawl right off his forehead.
As her siblings began calling out congratulations while they took turns clambering through the window, and Evie commenced a torrent of talk about the plans and arrangements for the upcoming festivities, Cerisse lowered her head with a mild groan, covering her face with her free hand. "Dibella's grace, does no one in this family know how to behave?"
"Am I not a member?" Alabyval's tone—serious, commanding, and incredibly fatherly—brought instant quiet to the room. Ria, who'd slunk in first, hushed her gushing, slowly relinquishing Cerisse from her enthusiastic hugs as she sat down quietly next to her sister. Mordistyr straightened up from his bent position helping his brother through the window, leaving a surprised Gondyn to slip awkwardly to the floor with a muffled thud. Even Evie quieted, though Agronak could see it was a silence that wouldn't last, her lips already twitching as she prepared to cajole, sweet-talk, or agree, depending on what her husband said next.
"Lord Hawkton," Agronak spoke, squaring his shoulders and raising his chin, "I love your daughter. I promise I wish nothing but to bring her happiness for the rest of her days." He nodded at the Breton, making sure he had the man's full attention, before continuing. "I hope you'll support the match, but know that I will marry her, no matter what obstacles present themselves."
Cerisse gaped along with the rest of her family, the group of them surprised at Agronak's boldness. Alabyval merely returned the stare for a while, his face impassive, his expression unreadable. Suddenly a large smile broke through as he laughed, a contented sound launched from deep down in the belly. "Agronak, there are many things I thought of you when I met you, and many more I've come to think since I've known you. At no time did I ever think you a coward. As far as my feelings about you marring my Reesy, I'm delighted," he suddenly slipped in the Orcish word.
Ria swooned as she murmured about romance and true love, while the brothers hastily provided the rough translation—Alabyval approved—to clear up Evie's confusion. She started to sniffle, more so when Cerisse flashed her little green ring, earning loud comments from Ria about how symbolic it was that is was Orcish, what with Agronak being part Orc, and how he'd even chosen Cerisse's favourite stone, an emerald (he briefly pondered claiming credit for such cleverness, as it sounded far more meaningful than explaining he'd chosen it because it was so very green).
As the women began to speak of plans for the wedding—suggestions for dates, food, and potential guests streaming out of Evie and Ria to pour over Cerisse—Alabyval caught Agronak's eye. "Come, let's go to my study. We'll leave them to their fun."
Leaving Cerisse after giving her hand a squeeze—as he didn't feel much like giving her a kiss in front of five intently watching pairs of eyes—Agronak adjourned with the men to Alabyval's sanctuary. As the Breton poured out a measure of sherry for each of them, Gondyn and Mordistyr arranged chairs for them all near the fire.
Once comfortably settled in, with Morag's feathery tail flopped across his feet, drink in hand, and congratulations gruffly given, Alabyval leaned forward in his chair to stare Agronak straight in the eye. "Agronak, what I'm about to tell you is something known only to the men of the Hawkton family. Heed it carefully, and you will always be happy." He glanced over to his sons. "You'd do well to pay attention."
Mordistyr reached over to smack Gondyn lightly on the shoulder, trying to get his brother to stop petting Dar long enough to listen properly.
"There are many things they say will guarantee marital bliss—flowers, gifts, hiring a maid—but it boils down to one simple thing." Alabyval pointed at Agronak, his eyes dancing with delight. "And do you know what that is?"
"A study?" Agronak guessed, recalling the advice he'd received in Tamborne.
Alabyval's jaw dropped open, his brow furrowing as he gaped at Agronak. "You...how..." he suddenly grimaced, taking a sip of his drink, before lightly asking a question. "Did Rodyrick tell you?"
Seeing no way around it, Agronak nodded sheepishly, a bit chagrined he'd already managed to get his future brother-in-law in trouble.
"Maybe we should send him the map," Gondyn whispered to his brother as Alabyval sighed into his drink, wryly amused smile on his face. At least he didn't seem too angry.
Mordistyr quickly shook his head, dismissing the idea. "You do that, and you'll have to face Cyovta's wrath for sending that git to her door."
"Right," Gondyn muttered as he snapped his fingers, "that's why we never sent it to him in the first place. Hmm, maybe wives are good for something after all."
"Now Mordy, you know it's not that fast," Ria gently scolded her brother from her comfortable spot on the rug, fingers plucking a jaunty little tune on her lute. Agronak hadn't heard her play before, and though she claimed to be rather rusty, he felt her to be quite skilled. "Look at Roddy and Cyovta."
"What's to look at?" Mordistyr replied, arching his brow as he settled further back into his chair. "He was sent to meet a supplier in the A'likr. Not only did he manage to offend the man, ruining months of negotiations, but he wound up bringing back a wife, ending his career before it'd barely begun."
Ria frowned as she strummed an off-key chord, before quickly repositioning her fingers to create a more melodic sound. "You make it sound like a bad thing," she protested. "It's incredibly romantic. Love at first sight in the foothills of the Dragontails." Smiling over to Agronak, light of the fire highlighting her in a rosy glow, she asked him a question. "It was love at first sight for you, wasn't it?"
Cerisse snickered from her spot on the other side of the fireplace, laying flat on the rug, the same Ta'agra novel propped up in her hands. She seized the opportunity to ignore the page she struggled with to look over at Agronak. "Don't even try to say it was."
"Oh?" he inquired with a grin. "What makes you think it wasn't?"
"Because if it was," she replied flatly, "then you wouldn't have been so rude. Or so grumpy. You didn't even smile until we hit the mountains."
"You weren't exactly the friendliest thing to ride with," he teased gently, waving at her book. "You did nothing but read."
"Better get used to it, Ags," Gondyn advised from the settee he'd claimed, stretching across the length of it, pillow propped behind his head, eyes closed. "Reesy's a dull one when she's not witching about."
"It's Ag-ro-nak," he growled, discouraging yet another nickname from the young man. Grudgingly he'd accepted Ria wouldn't call him anything other than Aggy, not after he'd invited her to, but that didn't mean he'd accept it from everyone else. So far Gondyn had tried Aggy, Nak, and in a fit of flippancy, Agrocakes. That one had been vetoed not only by him, but Mordistyr, who'd been very appalled to hear his brother use such a ridiculous name.
"Still, it seems awfully quick," Mordistyr murmured, eyes glancing between Agronak and Cerisse. "I travel to Elsweyr, then come back to find my baby sister engaged."
"I'm your baby sister," Ria corrected.
"No, Ri Ri," he grinned at her, "you're the baby."
Abandoning her lute to steal the little pillow from beneath Gondyn's head, causing the man to open his eyes with a start as his head fell down to the cushion, Ria launched it at Mordistyr. He caught it with a laugh, then let out another when he noticed Gondyn's outstretched arm awaiting the return of his pilfered pillow. With a contented smile, Mordistyr tucked it behind his head as he settled back into his chair.
"When are you going back to Elsweyr?" Gondyn grumped, shifting around on the settee as he tried to get comfortable again. "Tell me it's tomorrow."
"Oh no, I'm not going anywhere for a while. With my luck I'll get back to find you marrying a carnivorous Bosmer who squeaks." Mordistyr lightly shook his head, curls crushed against the pillow. "Or a Telvanni. Or, Dibella forbid, a cousin of Elysana's."
"Ugh, don't even say things like that." Gondyn stuck his tongue out at the thought. "Having to spend time at court, with all that gossip, and all that nattering. Do they do anything besides talk, talk, talk?"
"Don't mind Dyn," Cerisse advised Agronak with a grin. "He has no concept of irony."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Gondyn asked, regarding Cerisse with narrowed eyes.
"Means you're daft," Mordistyr answered for her, "and don't realize you natter more than the lot of them combined."
"This close," Gondyn snarled, holding his fingers a tiny distance apart. "You're this close to me showing you what Aggykins taught me while you were gone."
"It's Agronak," he rumbled, leaning forward as he interrupted the conversation, "I'd suggest you remember that, unless you want me to teach you not to forget it." His knuckles cracked as he clenched and unclenched his fists.
"Oh, good, it's so nice to see you all getting along," Evie's happy voice floated in from the doorway. She entered the room, trailed by Alabyval and the hounds. With a scold to sit up straight, and a gentle demand for him to scooch over, she settled herself next to Gondyn on the settee. "I've written everyone about the good news. It will be so nice when Roddy comes to visit tomorrow. I hope he brings the family—oh my, we're getting another member." She pressed her hand to her chest as she beamed at Agronak. "It's ever so exciting. Just wait until you meet the aunts and uncles. And the cousins—you'll not be the first Orc marrying into the Hawkton clan. Of course there's also my side...I know, I'll find you a copy of our family tree tomorrow, so you'll know who is who when they start arriving for the wedding—"
"Dear," Alabyval gently called to her as he stepped across the rug, "I thought we had an agreement."
"I wasn't talking about the thing," Evie breezily answered, "I was talking about the families. We really should get Agronak familiar with their names before he meets them at the thing." She glanced over at Agronak, a sympathetic smile on her face. "It's a shame you won't have many from your side joining us for the thing. Isn't there anyone else you can invite who could come out? Though it is a bit far," a shadow of hesitation held her words in a minute pause, before she carried on with some delicacy, "so perhaps you shouldn't worry about inviting the Emperor and Empress..."
"Lilia would have my head if I didn't invite her," Agronak interrupted in an attempt to reassure Evie she wouldn't be committing a highly embarrassing faux pas by extending an invite to the rulers of the Empire for a minor noble's wedding. He found when he called them by their names—which they both insisted on whenever they weren't bound otherwise by formality—it helped convince Evie he really was good friends with them.
And he didn't doubt Lilia's wrath would far surpass anything he'd seen from Ysabel if he failed to give her the opportunity to attend. Even if by Synderius' account she soon wouldn't be able to do much travelling at all, given her continuously growing condition.
"Really?" she twittered, somewhat flustered at the possibility they might attend. "Well, if there's a chance we'll be entertaining the Emperor, maybe we should reconsider the menu. Reesy, what do you think about adding some foreign dishes, something a bit more exotic? I've heard they're both partial to Elsweyran cooking..."
"Evie," Alabyval leaned over from his spot next to his wife, gently pressing his finger to her lips. "You're doing it again. Remember, no more wedding talk until tomorrow." Satisfied she'd stop—at least for a time being—he placed his hand on her back to rub soft circles up and down her spine. He addressed the room in general. "What were you kids talking about before? That would be better than discussions about the you-know-what."
"Mordy was just telling us he doesn't believe in love at first sight," Ria stated lightly, her eyes flashing a message of triumph at her older brother.
"Mordistyr!" Alabyval scolded, frowning at his son. "I thought we raised you to know better than that."
"That's not what I was saying, Papa," Mordistyr answered, giving Ria a dark look. She smiled smugly before pointedly ignoring him as she plucked at her lute. "I was expressing my surprise at finding Reesy engaged after such a short time."
"Short time?" Evie blinked, surprised at the statement. "They've known each other, what, almost a month? That's four times longer than it took for your father to propose. And look at Roddy—he met and married Cyovta within a fortnight."
"You might not know this," Mordistyr said dryly, "but in other families they don't marry off quite so quickly as ours. There's a quaint custom they have, called courtship. Maybe I should get my siblings to try it sometime."
"Been there, tried that, won't do it again," Ria snapped, discordant twang vibrating from the lute strings. She sighed, head shaking away the painful memories. "No, Hawktons are destined to love fast and true. If it moves too slow it isn't meant to be."
"Ri Ri, it works perfectly well for many others..." Mordistyr began saying.
"Love is," Gondyn quoted in Orcish as he stood, escaping his mother's gentle ministrations as she attempted to smooth his perpetually ruffled hair. "You're arguing a losing side, Mordy. No Hawkton would dare disagree with the idea." Moving to perch on Agronak's armrest, reconsidering at the crack of knuckles, Gondyn hesitated a moment, before plopping himself down on the rug in between his sisters. He strummed a finger over Ria's lute strings, earning a glare from her, before snatching Cerisse's book from her side and flipping to a random page. She didn't protest the loss, having abandoned her attempts at reading it for the evening.
"I'd hope not," Alabyval added with a smile, "because if it wasn't true none of you would be here today. Well, Agronak would be, but he certainly wouldn't be sitting here in my salon."
"Tell him why, Papa," Ria pleaded when she noticed Agronak's confusion. "He hasn't heard the story of how you met Mama." Turning to look over at Agronak, he noticed her wearing what he thought of as her 'swooning' face—the one she wore whenever anything remotely resembling the topic of love was discussed. "It's so romantic."
Mordistyr snorted, while Gondyn buried his nose deeper into Cerisse's book. At Cerisse's nod, and Agronak's polite request to hear the details, Alabyval began his tale, paying no heed to his sons' pointed ignorance of his words. "There's not much to tell. I used to sail with the company's ships—this you know. One sudden bad storm destroyed my ship and shattered my knee. I washed up on the coast of Menevia, and when I woke up, the world had changed."
"How?" Agronak asked, wondering what the man referred to. "Evie found you?"
"Oh, no, but that would have been very sweet," Evie chirped, patting Alabyval's knee.
"It means my life, as I'd known it, would never be the same," he answered, the hand on Evie's back slowing. "I'd spent years travelling the Empire, from the Summerset Isles to Vvardenfell, but with the damage done to my leg when the mast hit, there was no way I'd be able to crew a ship again. Do you know how hard it is to walk above deck with a cane?" Alabyval ran the fingers of his free hand through his hair as he let out a tired sigh. "It wasn't an easy thing to accept, at first. Didn't help I was stuck in Chesterbrugh, far from family, at the mercy of some less than skilled healers."
"You're exaggerating, dear," Evie lightly scolded. "They were inexperienced, not incompetent."
"Either way, my knee never stopped hurting." Alabyval resumed the stroking of Evie's back, a smile creeping over his face. "Good thing, too, or else they wouldn't have bundled me up, stuck me in a wagon, and sent me off to the chapel in Tamborne."
"You wouldn't have recognized him back then," Evie added, unable to resist providing further details to her husband's tale. "Scruffy, scrawny, with skin tanned like amber. Nothing at all to look at."
"In other words, he looked just like Mordy," Gondyn, suddenly listening to the conversation again, winked over to Agronak. His words evoked a growl from his brother, as well as a rough toss of the small pillow. Catching it with a smirk, Gondyn resettled himself, lying on his back with his head near the fire, pillow tucked below, book propped up in his arms. He appeared decidedly comfortable.
"But you," Alabyval murmured, admiring Evie as he ignored the antics of his sons, "were enough to stop any man's heart." She blushed, muttering gentle disavowals of his generous praise. Alabyval looked back to Agronak as he resumed his tale. "The moment I saw her, I knew she was the woman I'd marry. Too bad I didn't know her name."
"So he stalked me," Evie explained with a smile.
"Followed you," Alabyval corrected. "I followed you back to the finest home in Tamborne, limping as quickly as I could to keep up. You went in the front door, then you didn't come out."
"I was sick." Evie's gentle protests were made to Agronak as she justified her side, the soft words ones she'd repeated throughout the years. "Spent three days in bed with a touch of the collywobbles."
"Every one of those days I waited from dawn until dusk, hoping to catch another glimpse of her, perhaps speak to her," Alabyval admitted.
"The servants thought he was homeless. Do you remember when the cook sent Marie out with a bowl of stew?"
"Very well, dear," her husband quickly replied with a chuckle. "It was the first hot meal I'd eaten since I fell in love with you." He turned back to his future son-in-law. "You've seen the grounds in Tamborne. There used to be a thick hedge behind the fence, only the gate allowing a glimpse into the yard. On the fourth day I took up my usual spot in the only patch of sunlight in that dark street, fully prepared for another uneventful day. Imagine my surprise when I heard the sweetest voice, translating a tender love letter into fluent Aldmeris. As I listened, I grew convinced she was writing it for me."
"I thought you didn't speak anything besides Common," Agronak asked Evie, perplexed by Alabyval's narrative.
"I don't," she answered with a happy laugh. "That was my tutor, desperately trying to find some way to make me interested in languages. It didn't work—I was much too occupied with sketching a freshly bloomed rose to pay attention."
"Those damn bushes," Alabyval muttered as he took up his tale. "The idea she was writing to me—ridiculous as it was—combined with the days of waiting, made me reckless. I wanted so badly to see her, I tried climbing up the fence, hoping to peer over the top."
"But your knee..." Agronak pointed out.
"Made it impossible, yes," Alabyval admitted with a grin. "I ended up swearing up a storm, fortunately in everything but Common, as I struggled. After a while I gave up, deciding to try getting a glimpse of her through the gate. So I stepped towards it at full speed without watching where I was going—"
"Knocking me right off my feet," Evie interrupted. "I was on my way to visit my friend when he tripped me."
"Accidentally, dear," Alabyval sighed lightly, this part of the story one he'd qualified many times before. "And I did try to help you right back up."
"So you claim," she gently teased, patting her husband's hand, "but I distinctly remember you falling on me instead."
"Knee gave out."
"Whatever happened, I ended up helping you up." Evie kissed Alabyval, earning a happy sigh from Ria, and an eye roll from Mordistyr. "Then taking you back to the chapel. I never did make it to my friend's house."
"You fell for me just like I fell for you," he said, kissing her in return.
"Fell on her," Gondyn muttered under his breath, adjusting his book to hide his parents from his view.
"He finally proposed three days later—three unnecessary days later." Evie grinned at Agronak, before kissing Alabyval on the cheek. She then whispered something in his ear, punctuating her quiet words with a meaningful giggle that made Mordistyr visibly cringe.
"So, you see, love at first sight is real," Alabyval hastily summarized as he grabbed his cane. He planted it firmly on the floor, rising off the furniture with Evie clinging to his arm as she helped. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we're off to bed. Goodnight."
After a round of polite words, Evie and Alabyval left the room, Alabyval for some reason ordering the hounds to remain behind. Ria's gleeful murmurs about her parent's romantic tale were met with scathing calls from her brothers to stop talking about it. She finally quited down with a huff, pout on her face as she fiddled with her lute.
"Reesy," Gondyn suddenly exclaimed, pulling the book close to his face, before stretching his arms out as far as possible, as if he couldn't quite focus on the words, "where did you get this book?"
"Give it back, Dyn," Cerisse demanded, scrambling to snatch it out of his hands. But he rolled away too quickly, clutching it to his chest, preventing her plan from succeeding.
"Oh, no, not until I've finished reading it." Popping up from the rug, he quickly walked over to the other side of the settee, putting the piece of furniture between him and his sister, his eyebrows rising up and down as he wagged his finger at her. "I've never seen one of these before. I didn't even know they wrote this kind of thing in Ta'agra."
"Dyn," Cerisse's word held a dark warning, but the brilliant flush of embarrassment on her cheeks somewhat mitigated the intimidating effect.
"What is it? I've brought Papa back a whole crateload of Ta'agra books—whatever it is, I'm sure I've got more of the same," Mordistyr called, leaning over the armrest of his chair as he twisted to look at the cover.
"I somehow doubt that," Gondyn quickly replied, side-stepping around the settee, eyes locked on Cerisse as he attempted to keep her safely on the other side of the furniture. "I don't think you bought Papa an erotic novel starring a couple of carnivorous Bosmers." He chuckled at Cerisse's furious growl of frustration. "Rather clever, the way they substitute whipped cream for regular things like strawberries—at least there isn't any references about certain lengths of meat..."
With a yelp, Gondyn fled to the doorway, suddenly aware he was being pursued not by Cerisse, but her two incredulous siblings. Ria and Mordistyr called strategy to each other as they ran after him, intent on getting their hands on this most illicit of prizes.
"Bosmers, eh?" Agronak teased as he stood up. "If I'd known you liked that kind of story, I would've bought you a novel instead of a ring. The jeweler's wife had one written in Orcish, about a warlord and a Breton serving wench..."
"Good thing you didn't get me that one," she answered with a purr. "I've already got two copies."
"Really?" He scooped her up, feeling her feet brush against his calves as they dangled in the air. "I take it that's your favourite?"
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as she kissed him, warmth of her touch igniting an entirely different kind of warmth within him. "Nah," she whispered when she pulled her lips out of reach. "It's the one about the Orcperial and the nymph. Would you like me to tell you what happens in that one?"
With a chuckle, he set her feet on the ground. He followed along behind her, holding on to her hand, letting her lead the way. He had a suspicion she would find them a quiet spot—a hidden spot—where she could safely share the tale. Hopefully she'd need a bit of audience participation...