Author Notes:

I'll try to keep this short – I based the "village" culture of Celes on that of rural Russian villages from the eighteenth century. Why? Well... CLAMP really hasn't given us much to go on regarding Celes, but there is a manga image of Fai's speech in Tsubasa Reservoir (Chapter 68.) It certainly looks like the Cyrillic alphabet to me. So after reading this particular manga chapter, the little gears in my head start spinning: Cyrillic alphabet + very cold location + fur clothing + a king (a tsar?) suggests CLAMP may have been inspired by Russian culture. I'm certain CLAMP will eventually reveal Fai's background in which case this will become an AU fic.

Unfortunately, I have very little knowledge of the Russian culture. I live in a warm place that is struck by hurricanes, not blizzards, and I can count on one hand the number of times I've been in snow. Thus, I had to do a lot of research in the hopes that this story would come off semi-decent and not completely laughable to people who live in colder climes (so please let me know if I've written something completely absurd in here.) I have links to my research if you're really interested, but you'll have to check out my livejournal posts of October 22nd (linked in my profile) because FFNet won't let me post links within a story.

Disclaimer: The original characters and the setting of Celes do not belong to me. Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles is the copyrighted work of quartet of lovely ladies known as CLAMP. Please worship... er, support them by buying the manga.

Warnings: There may be occasional bad language in the story, as well as some violence, and possibly mild sexual references. Nothing that you wouldn't see in an American PG-13 movie.

Beginning

Forty-three. Forty-three. Faina D. Flowright scowled as she whipped the paste in the bowl with far more ferocity than the medicinal recipe required. It simply wasn't respectable for a woman her age, especially not one who already had five sons and three grandchildren. And the women would gossip, not that she cared what they chose to discuss in the slightest, but she was certain it would involve words like "greedy" and "flirtatious" and "lusty" and "silly" and -

The heavy sound of boots interrupted Faina's list of imagined insults, and she looked up, slitting her eyes towards in the direction of the south door and the perpetrator of her predicament. There was a rasping noise of a dull blade against ice shards and worn yak hide boots, and then a few words as the guilty party murmured his thanks to each of the three sun emblems carved on the gable: sunrise first, midday next, and sunset last before stomping inside (and letting the door bang shut as usual, Faina noted sourly.)

Faiik D. Flowright's huge frame filled the doorway of the hearth room a few seconds later, and he piously headed to the men's corner where the family icons hung. He bowed and reverently thanked the ancestors for their protection in the mines, then snarled a few words at the icon of Ashura-ou-With-A-Nimbus.

Faina quirked an eyebrow. Dealing with the residential spirits, ancestors, and the newer custom of king worship were traditionally patriarchal responsibilities, so Faina wasn't familiar with all of the established protocol, but she was rather certain that Faiik wasn't supposed to say "and thank you for our safety too, you moon-worshipping freak." She did not bother to correct him, however.

"Good evening, my radiant sunshine," Faiik boomed, walking over to her corner to warm himself by the stove. He leaned over the table to peck Faina on the cheek but froze as he glimpsed the look on her face. "Ah, good evening, my freezing moonbeam?"

With a snort, Faina turned her ample back to Faiik, pointedly pretending that she was too preoccupied with stirring the paste to be bothered with something so trivial as a husband.

"Ah, Honored Master Domovoi, see how my own wife treats me?" Faiik sighed dramatically as he squinted at the space under the stove. He knew he wouldn't see anything, though - no one in his family had the ability to see their household spirit or anyone else's for that matter, but Magmeteva had assured him that was where their spirit preferred to lurk. "Please tell me what sins I have committed against my beautiful wife," Faiik implored, hanging his head in exaggerated penance.

"Honored Master Domovoi would like me to inform you that this is your crime," Faina said, pointing at her belly. "You should be ashamed of yourself, a man of your years."

Faiik's blue eyes widened and he swayed backwards, nearly losing his balance. "You don't mean – a child!"

"Yes, a child. I'm three weeks pregnant," said Faina as she placed the bowl on the table and resumed glaring at her husband.

It wasn't necessary for Faiik to ask how Faina would know such a thing so early: she was one of the very few people in any of the surrounding villages with magic, and the only one in Faiik's extended household. Her magic was relatively small (according to Magmeteva, anyway), but Faiik felt incredibly lucky to have a wife with such talents. He dipped a finger in the bowl of paste and rubbed the mixture onto his numb hands, sighing with pleasure as the sensation of warmth sank down into his skin: Faina's small magics enhanced the properties of anything she prepared with her hands.

"Dear," Faiik said, flexing his now-warm fingers, "That's wonderful news. I couldn't be happier."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. A child is always welcome news," Faiik replied as he crept up behind his wife and encircled her with his massive arms. Gently, he placed one callused hand on her belly. "I'm truly blessed to have a wife who is carrying our sixth son."

"Silly Faiik," Faina said, placing a hand on his bearded jaw. "What makes you think this is a boy?"

Faiik pursed his lips as if in deep thought. "I possess magical powers of deduction. We have five sons. The three we buried were also sons. Therefore, this child is a son."

Grinning, Faina swatted his jaw gently and neatly stepped out from his embrace. "I've already decided on a name. Our child will be named Fai."

"Fai? Fai is a sissy name for a son. He'll be teased mercilessly by the other boys."

"Fai is a good name for a daughter or a son. It's a pretty name."

"That's the problem. A son needs a good, strong name like Forvin or Fdot. Not a pretty name like you would give to a fairy."

"We already have a son named Fdot, and maybe I'll just tell people that "Fai" is short for 'fairy.' As in, a fairy fathered my child because who could believe such an old man could be a father." Perversely, Faina stuck her tongue out as she gathered up a cord of wood for the stove.

"Ah, so that's what you've been up to while I've been hard at work in the mines, Honored Master Domovoi, you old lecher!" Faiik shook a fist in mock anger in the stove's direction.

Faina chuckled, her mood vastly improved. "Seriously, Faiik, aren't we a little old to be raising a new child?"

"Ah, if we croak too soon, we'll just foist him off on Falco. He's had practice now with two of his own already."

"Heyyy!" came a muffled cry of protest from the west wall, which adjoined Falco's own hearth room.

"Serves you right, you eavesdropper!" Faiik called out cheerfully. "Well, that takes care of the problem of passing the news along to the herd," he told his wife. "It'll be through the whole compound in five minutes." Three of his sons had started families of their own, but they had chosen to add their houses onto their parents' rather than building on separate plots, for convenience. Because all the houses shared the same roof, it wasn't necessary for one to risk a venture outside in order to visit family during the bitterest portions of winter. The barnyard, equipment shed, and storage rooms were also under the same roof, and the entire compound was encircled by a fence of fat, snugly slatted logs Faiik had hewed himself twenty years ago.

Leisurely, Faiik stretched his sore limbs, feeling quite content with this arrangement: all his people and animals were gathered close to him, under protection of both himself and the family domovoi. His new son would be welcomed into the warm household he and Faina had painstakingly crafted, safe from the biting winds outside.

It was a good life.