"This is your room now, Serran. I hope you like it." Avon stood in the doorway, watching the little girl race around, trying to look at everything at once. It was a bright, airy room, very much a contrast to the general dark wood and furniture found in the rest of the house. Vila's hand, of course, was much in evidence here. The wainscoting was painted a soft spring-leaf green, with the upper walls a much paler version of the same color. He'd even had the furniture painted, using warm golds, pale yellows, and light blues. The drapes, needing to be heavy enough to keep out the cold, were lined inside with pure white eyelet lace, which was echoed on the canopy of the four-poster bed and the covers, as well. The floor's dark-finished wood was liberally scattered with colorful throw rugs.
"It's beautiful!" she exclaimed, her eyes alight, "and it's so big!" She climbed up onto the feather bed and bounced experimentally, making several of the multitude of pillows come tumbling about her. "It's so soft!" she said, a look of delight on her face. She pulled one pillow, shaped like heart, with ruffles all around the edges, to her, clutching it to her chest.
Avon laughed easily and Cally, beside him, marveled at how quickly he'd accepted his new role and the responsibility that went with it. She could see that she'd made the right decision to bring her cloned child here. And just as wonderfully, Serran seemed to be taking well to the two men and her new surroundings. She sighed lightly, some knot of tension she hadn't been aware of before releasing within her.
"Come on, Serran," Vila said, motioning her from the bed. "There's some tea and cakes waiting in the library, to tide us over until dinner. I'd like to get your opinion on which kind of cake is the best."
Her excitement over her new room forgotten, Serran left the bed and took Vila's hand, going with him into the hall. Vila looked down at her, saying, "That was quite a trick with the horse today."
As the two moved away, Avon stopped Cally. "Did you have any idea she could do that…with the horse?" he asked.
Cally shook her head, her collar-length auburn hair bouncing about her face. "None. I was as surprised as you were."
"Then it's not a normal Auron talent?"
She considered a moment before answering. "Normal, no, though it's not unheard of, either."
Avon nodded. "Well, we'd best catch up with them, before Vila teaches her something she doesn't need to know yet!"
Cally laughed, having a good idea of what Vila probably shouldn't teach Serran, and Avon joined in.
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They reached the library in time to see Vila 'magically' making coins appear and disappear. Avon hid a smile behind his hand. He'd seen his mate doing the same thing to amuse the children at the first manor where he'd taught while Avon was in the tower, as well as for the growing herd of children swirling about the house and estate. As their enterprises grew, so too did the population attached to Avilla. With the advent of Avon's horse-breeding and training stables, it seemed there were weekly, if not daily, additions to both the human and animal populations, not to mention the steady stream of workers and suppliers needed for the ever-expanding estate. It looked like he'd soon have to find a major domo for the estate outside the house. Of course, the large manor house was firmly under Vila's control already.
Catching sight of Cally, Serran exclaimed, "Watch, mamma! He's making things go away and come back again!"
Catching a troubled look on Avon's face, Cally asked, *What is it, Avon*
He answered, *She doesn't know what to call me, I think.*
*Then, why don't you just ask her, Avon* Cally sent back, amusement coloring her mental voice.
Shrugging assent, Avon approached the child. "Serran, you call him Uncle Vila. What would you like to call me?" he asked solemnly.
Suddenly serious, Serran replied, "Could I call you Father?"
Avon beamed. He had to swallow twice before finding his voice. "I'd like that, very much, I think." His happiness spilled over the room and infected the others.
After they had settled down and eaten some of Vila's idea of a light tea, Avon got an idea. "Vila, get Cally's harp, why don't you?" He turned to his new daughter. "Did you now your Uncle Vila can sing?"
"Nooo…" There hadn't been much music in her life, up to this point. The Kaarn Colony was too new, too close to the survival point, to allow for such things as musical entertainment. She'd of course heard other adults singing, if only to make work easier, but it had never occurred to her that this magical Uncle Vila could also sing.
"He can, but he doesn't like to do it in public. It takes a little extra persuasion sometimes," he hinted.
She turned her wide green eyes toward Vila, pleading, "Please, Uncle Vila?"
"How could I possibly refuse such beautiful eyes?" Vila agreed, as he handed Cally the harp and sat opposite her. The Auron and the former thief proceeded to put on quite a concert and were pleasantly surprised when Avon joined in occasionally, though his singing voice was a bit gravelly. He was much happier to play along on his bodhran, an Irish drum he'd been introduced to and taken a liking to. Of course, the skin drumhead had a painted representation of the Avilla sigil on it, the black circle, silver 'A' and gold 'V' standing out nicely against the mellow tan skin.
Later, after supper and back in the library, as the evening grew late, Vila left his perch near Cally, where they'd been reminiscing quietly together, and went to sit beside his mate. He took Avon's hand and nodded to Cally. She understood, picked up her harp and began to sing the song that had so much meaning to these two.
"The first time ever I saw your face…"
As the song progressed, Serran went over to the two men. Avon moved away from Vila just enough for the youngster to squeeze in between them, adjusting their arms about each other to include her. She looked first at one, then the other, her new father and uncle. She felt safe here, knowing that even though her mother would be leaving in only a few more days, she would be loved and protected by these two, her new family. In the warmth and safety of her new family, she relaxed, worn out by her first day in her new home. Her eyelids drooped and she leaned against Avon.
*I love you, Vila.* Avon sent the private message to his bondmate and saw the answering smile on Vila's face. Avon squeezed Vila's shoulder once, then withdrew. Gently scooping up the sleeping child in his arms, he rose and took her upstairs to her own bed.
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Vila caressed Avon's bare shoulder and smoothed the dark hair back into place. "I wish others could see what I saw tonight."
Avon glanced up languidly. "And what's that?"
"Oh, you know, the private Avon you keep hidden from everyone but me and Cally. And, I guess, Serran," he added thoughtfully.
"Private Avon?"
"Maybe I should have said the 'real Avon', then?"
He chuckled softly against the other man's chest. "You're not making sense, Vila."
"You know very well what I'm talking about," Vila countered, trailing a finger across the other's shoulder, then caressing the dip of his collarbone. "We've had this discussion before. But tonight, you weren't even aware, were you?"
"Aware?" He shoved himself up onto an elbow, so he could look Vila in the face, instead just hearing his voice reverberating in his chest.
"That you never put up your shields today," he said seriously, with a touch of wonder.
Avon thought a moment before nodding. "I…suppose you're right but I didn't really make a conscious decision one way or the other. It just seemed natural, to be the way I was. Besides, I've never pretended with Cally," he said with a wry grin. "She's known me for too long, seen me at my worst. There's no need to hide."
"But you didn't hide from Serran, either," Vila pointed out.
"I know. I…wanted to get off on the right foot with her, I think. She's part of our lives now, a very intimate part. I guess I wanted there to be only truth between us." He stopped, considering what he'd said. It was true-where there'd been two, for so many years, there were now three. Somewhere along the way, he and Vila had become a family of three, for good or ill, forever.
"I suppose I should be glad," Vila murmured, breaking into Avon's train of thought, "that there's a part of you that only a few will ever see."
"Ever the romantic, aren't you, Vila," Avon said, with a fond smile.
"Possibly," he replied in an excellent Avon imitation, "but it's a shame the universe will only know the public Avon, while I…"
He was forestalled from finishing the statement as his partner moved closer, a questing hand stroking through the light dusting of pale hair across his stomach, before venturing further downward, turning Vila's thoughts in an entirely different direction.
Years of incompleteness stretched out behind Avon and Vila. That night they celebrated the end of those years and the thread of a whole new future unspooling brightly before them.