I stole Nickel Creek,

But my endings always suck.

I love Naesala.

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13. Flutter, flutter, flutter

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It wasn't that her husband and her son weren't close. Quite the contrary, actually. Maedhros had inherited the best of both parents, and as a consequence could always be counted upon as the person to bring his father out of a dark sulk, usually with nothing more than irresistible good humor.

But Leanne knew, just as she had known growing up, the hidden parts of Naesala's heart: and she knew that their daughter was almost dearer to him than she herself was. From their early childhood, both children had shown fiercely unique personalities, and Lillia, the perfect image of her mother, had never been anything less than the daughter of a raven.

Leanne sighed, watching her grown son and his hawk friend roughhousing above the tower rooms. The game, apparently, was to pretend that one didn't have wings, and to use the turrets as a miniature battlefield, armed with only fists and boots. She knew they wouldn't seriously hurt themselves, but she was keeping any eye on them anyway, only half-concentrating on the blanket she was embroidering for a beorc friend's new child. Young laguz men were always to excited to prove that they were no longer boys, and as a consequence occasionally forgot that they couldn't exactly manage everything their elders could.

The corner of her eye, though, was concentrated on the far eastern horizon. Lillia had stubbornly locked herself into her room, maintaining that until her father returned home from the Begnion capital, she wasn't coming out. Just the thought of it made Leanne flush with frustration: one of Naesala's admirable qualities was his tenacious courage, and Lillia had certainly inherited that. Unfortunately, she'd also inherited his most frustrating personality facet, a tendency to stubbornly conceal his motives. Emotions were much easier: Leanne could read her daughter's feelings quite as well as her husband's. But sometimes she found herself unconsciously siding with Maedhros in verbal arguments, simply because she could understand his logic so much more clearly, his motives having either been explained or being explicitly obvious.

That, more than anything, frustrated her. It didn't bother her that she was closer with their son, and that Naesala was closer with their daughter; after all, when they were children she and her brother had immediately chosen favorites, when faced with looking up to both the king of hawks and the king of ravens. It was simply a matter of personality, so far as that went.

No, it was that Leanne felt herself becoming increasingly distant from her daughter. Lillia had always been more reserved and independent than Maedhros, whose cheerful placidity reminded her of no one so much as Tibarn's retainer Janaff. But this recent fight… Leanne wasn't sure who had been more upset, herself or Naesala, and the thought of him returning with the wrong news filled her heart with trepidation. Her worst nightmares were always those where her family fell apart, and while she knew that Lillia would eventually forgive her, if things didn't go well… the fear still lurked in the back of her mind.

Lillia had all but marched into their bedroom two mornings before, barely looking at them before cheerfully announcing, "I want to learn seid magic, Mama."

Leanne had merely stared at her daughter for a moment, feeling more dumbfounded that she could ever recall. She tightened both hands, her right on a damp, bloodstained rag, and her left on Naesala's bare shoulder. They were both sitting near the window, as she sponged blood from his back: a healthy batch of wounds, left by brigands seeking to annoy the bird tribes as their most well-known diplomat made his way back from Crimea.

"All right, Lillia," she finally managed to answer, knowing that she sounded exasperated, and felt, more than heard, her husband chuckling. "May I ask what made you decide right now is the right time?" They had discussed seid magic before briefly, but Lillia had always said that she didn't know if she could. Apparently she had changed her mind.

Lillia merely looked at her, glance flickering to the cloth. "To help," was her simple answer.

Leanne felt a chill slide down her back. Unrest had spread across Crimea for probably the third time in as many decades, and Queen Elincia had once more asked any diplomats from other countries to help intervene in minor land disputes, and to halt widespread political chaos: the Royal Knights could only suppress such things for so long, and by so many methods. Unfortunately, while Crimea was far more tolerant of laguz than either Begnion or Daein (and in fact were treated quite regally by the nobility), laguz diplomats were not always made perfectly welcome by the general population. This wasn't the first time Leanne had doctored Naesala, after he'd been attacked while sleeping somewhere in between Melior and Serenes. She knew it wouldn't be the last.

She swallowed down her fear and calmly said, "All right. I'll contact your uncle Reyson, and the two of us can begin instructing you soon. You're right: it's time we passed on our knowledge to you, Lillia."

"No," was the immediate answer. "I want to go to Mainal Cathedral and study seid magic there."

Leanne almost choked in surprise; she raised a hand to her mouth, to cover the gasp that would certainly otherwise have escaped.

Words completely failed her. Her daughter… wanted to go to Mainal Cathedral… to study seid magic amongst the beorc there. Not only did the idea rankle every nerve she'd inherited from heron ancestors, but the thought of a young female heron, alone amongst the Begnion nobility… "No," she said finally, and heard her voice shake as she continued. "No, Lillia. That's impossible."

"Why?" asked her daughter stubbornly, brows furrowed. That was one thing about Lillia: she never bothered to argue, since her motives were always either concealed, or so obvious that they didn't even need explanation.

Leanne, completely unable to come up with an intelligible response, felt a sublime relief as her husband got up, reaching out to take their daughter by the hand. "Lillia… you know why. We're not treating you like a child when we say that Sienne is not a safe place for laguz. I've travelled there many times since the end of the Goddess's War, trust me."

"I know that, Papa," answered Lillia calmly, green eyes clear and full of hope. "You can send someone with me if you want. For protection."

Naesala drew a hand across his eyes briefly, and said, "Lillia, I could go with you, if it came down to that. I think the point I'm trying to make is, why Mainal Cathedral? Did you hear your mother? She and your uncle can instruct you better than any scholar, especially a beorc who has never actually seen it in practice." Leanne heard the pang in his voice at mentioning Reyson; she herself was annoyed with her brother, who had seen fit to argue passionately over a beorc matter with her much more knowledgeable husband, and had stormed off in a huff. Naesala, of course, pretended to be indignant, but Leanne knew better.

Still Lillia was perfectly at ease. "I know. Mama, you and Uncle Reyson can teach me the beginning seid magic. I already know basically how it works. But I want to study like the beorc do. I want to be a priest, too."

There was an absolute silence; finally, Naesala replied, somewhat faintly, "You what?" Then, in a tone of complete outrage, "Lillia!"

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That had been the beginning of the argument. One way that Lillia most resembled her mother was in her refusal to change her mind. Leanne was torn between nostalgia (the memories of Reyson trying to argue her out of marrying Naesala) and deep bitterness, as she watched her husband try to keep his emotions in check. Naesala had what she considered to be a slow burn—it took him a long time to get genuinely outraged—but when he did finally lose control, it was complete. Once or twice she'd watched, highly entertained, as Maedhros provoked his father into a shouting match for the sole purpose of getting him into a better mood. Normally, it worked: once Maedhros started laughing, his exasperated, aggravated father would have no choice but to join in.

But this fight had ended in black, flat glares from both parties involved. Lillia rarely played one parent off the other to get what she wanted—neither of their children were petty or selfish, though both were certainly cunning—but this was the first time she had attempted to do so and had failed. Naesala had entirely sided with Leanne (if for slightly different reasons), and Lillia had delivered an ultimatum: either she went to Mainal Cathedral and got her way, or she didn't study seid magic at all.

What most upset Naesala, Leanne thought, was Lillia's refusal to understand the danger of staying amongst Begnion beorc alone. Both children had been born after the Goddess's War; but while Maedhros, with dozens of bird and beast laguz pals, had picked up the common sense of keeping to oneself, Lillia had been drawn like a moth to the flame. The more Leanne had explained under what circumstances beorc and laguz could and couldn't get along, the more Lillia's brows drew together, and her mother knew that she was thinking of ways to… to what? To be involved, somehow, with beorc matters.

Leanne had never been bitter about the Serenes Massacre. She remembered it, of course: but having been so young, she had forgiven much more quickly than her husband. Naesala steadfastly refused to talk about such matters with his delicate daughter; and somehow, even now, when her father came home literally bloodied from diplomatic journeys to beorc countries, Lillia seemed to have some sort of hidden obsession with becoming part of the beorc world.

A sudden flash of black, crashing into the courtyard before her, seemed to stop time for a moment. But a distressed "Ackgh!" indicated that it was simply her half-grown son, who had just lost the game. Leanne leapt up, the embroidery forgotten as she flew to her son's side. But he was unhurt, already rising to dust off his clothes, face red. "Sorry, Mama. I'm fine." Then, immediately and glibly he shouted, "Damn!" Above, his friend was laughing uproariously, evidently feeling quite victoriously unconcerned.

Leanne was torn between laughing with the boy and yelling at her son for scaring her so: but then, if she hadn't been lost in thought, she probably wouldn't have been worried. "It's all right." He seemed to hardly hear her, briefly smiling and squeezing her hand, before leaping upwards again. The downdraft from his powerful wings made her head reel for a moment, and Leanne suddenly had an image in her head of Naesala, the first time he'd ever helped her fly.

Abruptly she knew, and looked to the east: a form was beginning to take shape, and long before she recognized her husband's transformed shape, the young hawk shouted from above, eyes much keener than her own. "Your dad's home, Maedhros!"

Leanne didn't look up, just gathered up her embroidery and went inside: but she knew her son's eyes were on her. The argument about Lillia's future was about to be decided, and Leanne wasn't entirely sure she was ready for it.

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She knew before Naesala even spoke what the verdict would be. Quietly slipping through a back door, he'd managed to avoid her for several minutes, and she'd discovered him mindlessly paging through old documents, sent by the Daein embassy. Leanne paused for a moment to reflect, relieved, that at least he appeared totally unharmed. All things considered, Sienne was probably safer than Melior: but Leanne knew better than to think there weren't those in Begnion who still harbored a grudge against Kilvas. His body language said as much.

But most telling of all, he started when she spoke, and hesitated before returning her embrace, almost guiltily kissing her. "I know," she said, feeling glum. "You've decided to let her go."

It was amazing how much she felt her heart break when he finally nodded. Even though she'd known, the confirmation of it was almost devastating. "Leanne, I know you don't want this. You thought maybe teaching Lillia seid magic with your brother could maybe… repair relations in that direction." Now it was her turn to start, and Naesala smiled wryly. "Come on. I know I can't read people like you, but give me some credit."

"Yes," she said shortly, feeling a single, puerile tear slip down her face.

She'd expected him to plead his case at this point, explain all the logical reasons why it wasn't a bad idea; but suddenly he was still, standing unmoving and gazing at her. Finally, he dropped his gaze and said, "Leanne, you had a dream as a child, right? Something you really wanted, but knew it was pretty unlikely?"

The comment, so unanticipated, made her flush. "Of course. Every child does." Leanne hadn't even thought of anything before her re-awakening in a long time, and was unexpectedly embarrassing.

"And yours was…?" he persisted, eyes on her now.

Leanne glared at him. "You're going to make me say it out loud? You know perfectly well what I wanted, when I was a child."

He chuckled, evidently satisfied. "All right. Well, you and your brother both got your wishes, to all effects and purposes. You've left off being like your brother Rafiel, and Reyson is able to run all over the place leading the people with Tibarn. Not exactly what you had in mind, I'm sure, but I hope I and your children are small compensation for not actually becoming a raven yourself."

Her cheeks must be burning a hole in the air, she thought vaguely, and asked softly, feeling an irritation grow, "Naesala, can I ask what your point is? Because I ended up with what I wanted, I should let our daughter go off and betray her heritage?"

He finally looked uncomfortable, and held out a hand. After a moment, she sighed and took it. "No. Well, yes, but not really. I don't want to sound self-pitying at all, but I know what it's like to end up with a life you never asked for."

"You didn't want to be king of your country?" she asked, and immediately wished she hadn't. Naesala didn't smile, didn't frown, didn't even flinch. She knew he'd gotten over the literal pain of the blood contract, but every word of it would remain etched into his heart.

"Well, every fledgling raven wanted to be king. Of course. And when the throne isn't guarded by an entailment, it's always a legitimate possibility, too. But…" He sighed. "Well, you know. It was sort of a surprise, how horrific the choice between your people and another becomes. I'd never thought I would care, that I would always be perfectly happy making the right choice for the raven clan. Being king seems pretty easy, even to those of us who think we know better."

She understood. And while she'd known all along how it tore at him inside, all the other laguz (and any beorc who knew the situation) had assumed that, as a raven, Naesala hadn't even been bothered by choosing the lives of his citizens over those of Phoenicis. No one but her had ever seen him look back. "I know. But Naesala, Lillia will never have to make that choice."

"How do you know? You and I might be killed tonight, and she may end up taking my place in the Laguz Alliance with her brother." Naesala's voice was cold, and she could tell he was thinking of the other day. "Worse yet, she might have this dream for years, and when she's finally independent of us, it could be too late. The Begnions might be anti-laguz again, and without an influential word they might deny her the dream of becoming a priest."

"Why does she need to be a priest?" Leanne demanded, suddenly feeling all the indignance of her repressed heron ancestors pop up. A memory of the wolf queen Nailah surfaced in her mind, defending Rafiel's complacency and gentleness, and she fiercely pushed it away. "Naesala, she can go learn seid magic from the Begnions. From the Crimeans, for all I care. And if she comes home not knowing as much as I, then I'll help her. But why are you supporting her in this ridiculous notion of staves and holy chants when she can already do so much just as herself?"

"For one, because even seid can't teach you the magic of light tomes," Naesala reminded her, voice heavy with irony. "I think Lillia's got too much of me in her, and she's looking for a way to actively fight." Leanne felt a tug of horror as he continued, "Yes, I know it seems terrible to you. And it would bother me too, if I didn't think it was a good idea, at least pragmatically. Things are backsliding, as they always do in a time of peace. People are getting just a bit too lax, and before long laguz slavery is going to be a good source of income again."

A sickness settled in Leanne's stomach, and she looked up at him in despair. "We can't send her to the Begnion capital alone, if that's the case."

"Well, how stupid do you think I am?" Naesala exclaimed, and she was so surprised that she finally giggled, just a little hysterically. He smiled, gently. "Leanne, I've looked into that. Reyson might be angry with me, but Tibarn's not. I talked to him, and he's agreed to send someone, be it one of the ravens or the hawks, with Lillia. Probably one of his older men, someone who's bored of living in Serenes but knows better than to let down his guard."

Leanne opened her mouth, and closed it again. There was really nothing else to say, after all. She put her face against Naesala's shoulder, and sighed, refusing to cry. "All right. Just… just promise me that she'll be all right."

He pulled her to him tightly. "She'll be all right."

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It was another two weeks before preparations were complete, and before the necessary paperwork was all in place. The Begnion Cathedral had never accepted a laguz for training as a priest before, and Leanne had never heard the country humming as loudly as when they finally shrugged and agreed. Naesala had commented that the Begnions were madder about this than she herself was, but that it wasn't entirely prudent for them to refuse such a lucrative opportunity, no matter how the current senators felt about the laguz. "They can make history by letting Lillia become a priest," he'd explained, grinning widely. "And as of right now their knowledge of seid magic is strictly intellectual, most of them having never seen a heron do healing except when they were fighting us. So by helping her learn it, they can watch and see if their teachings are actually right."

Leanne had shaken her head mutely to most of this. She always felt a sinking in her stomach as he left once more to discuss things with an important someone, somewhere, the feeling that he wouldn't return a nagging sense in the back of her mind.

She'd sent the news to Reyson, attempting to make it as clear as possible that she herself hadn't entirely sanctioned Lillia's actions, and he'd finally answered, rather coolly. Still, she'd clearly sensed that he understood, and the fact that he was arriving soon was more than enough for her to forgive him.

Today was Lillia's departure for Begnion: Naesala had, somehow without even speaking to her about it, satisfied Leanne's continued disapproval of the whole situation by refusing to accompany his daughter to the Begnion capital. "I'll go tomorrow," he'd told her, in the secret darkness of their bedroom the night before. "But she'll never know. I don't want her to think I'll be there protecting her, but I will."

Somehow that meant less, though, than the fact that he was refusing to go today. Surprisingly enough, Lillia had actually become so upset at this that she had burst into tears, startling her mother even more by stamping her foot and imploring Naesala to go. It had obviously been due to his own stubbornness that he'd resisted. Lillia clearly wanted her father's approval more than anything else: Leanne was simultaneously torn between a mother's instinct to make her children happy, and her own implicit distaste for the whole affair.

Now the two of them stood together, alone on the parapet, light and dark silhouettes looking nearly the same when framed against the morning sun. Off to the side, one of Tibarn's hawk soldiers stood side by side with a raven Leanne recognized from back during the Mad King's War, someone Naesala trusted unhesitatingly. The two of them would be Lillia's protectors as she studied, and, little beknownst to the young heron, her father's eyes and ears. Leanne smiled to herself at the thought, feeling a wistful tear prick the corner of her eye; despite herself, she found that she was wishing Reyson would make it in time to see off his niece. Of course, he might still be angry with her, and might refuse to speak to her husband entirely, but it would still be worth something.

Naesala was saying something to his daughter, and she suddenly giggled, sniffling and throwing her arms around him. As she pulled away, Leanne vaguely heard, "… you can't sing, Daddy…"

"…what your mother's for," was the answer, barely audible in his deep tones, and both of them laughed softly. Then Leanne had a fleeting impression of white, ruffling feathers flying towards her, and her daughter's arms were suddenly wrapped around her.

Startled beyond words, all she could do was return Lillia's embrace. "I'm sorry," her daughter was saying, sniffling, thin arms too tight. "I'm so sorry, Mama. Please forgive me: I just have to go."

Something in her broke, and Leanne abruptly wasn't angry any longer. She couldn't think of a thing to say, and merely rubbed her daughter's back. It didn't seem to matter whether or not Lillia trained in seid magic somewhere else: maybe it was just her own foolish pride that had upset her about that. And what was wrong with learning beorc magic? Her daughter would probably become one of the wisest laguz ever to live.

Finally she found her voice. "It's all right, Lillia." Her own voice sounded wry, too unaffected, and she swallowed, before adding, "Really. It's all right. I'll miss you, darling."

Lillia stepped back a little, and Leanne smiled at her, finally feeling her tears let loose. Loose golden curls streamed from her daughter's temples, waving in the light breeze, but with the sun behind her she had her father's dark face. "Thank you, Mama."

She leaned forward to give her daughter one last kiss, then pushed her lightly in the direction of the two older laguz. "Go on. Catch your dream, before it slips away from you."

The next few minutes were a confused welter of watching her daughter transform with the others, fluttering upwards in a whirl of white, feeling Naesala slip an arm around her, trying not to cry, and helplessly laughing as her son followed after them, hooting and calling names at his 'little' sister. Finally they were gone, and she turned to her husband, unable to keep from crying. "She'll be fine. I'll go tomorrow," was all he said, the sun warming them both.

At last she managed to look up, and suddenly noticed another figure, one she hadn't seen, stepping out from a doorway. "Reyson!" She detached herself from Naesala with some effort, and threw herself into her brother's arms. "Reyson, you just missed—they left a moment ago—"

"I've been here," he said, interrupting her. "I came a while ago… not really to see Lillia off, though. I…" She moved away, to see him biting his lip, trying not to smile. "Leanne, I don't want to be angry with anyone. Ever again. It's a terrible thing, to fear seeing my niece because I'm upset with her parents, the two people who should matter the most to me."

Leanne only looked at Naesala for a moment, but her glance saw him stricken. "Reyson…"

"I don't know how she convinced you to let her do it," her brother continued stubbornly, "but I think it will be good. Really. Once I wrapped my head around it, the idea seemed better and better. The Begnions will be happy to train her, and they'll get used to seeing laguz right in the Cathedral. And if—when she stays safe, all the laguz will be much more at ease."

All of this flew quite over Leanne's head; she'd stopped paying attention after he'd said he wanted to have the fight over and done with. "Yes—yes, you're right. All will be well."

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She ushered her son inside with Reyson; the two of them seemed only too happy to act like idiots, immediately starting up a conversation about potentially going somewhere or other with Janaff and Ulki, attacking a bandit stronghold or something similarly testosterone-fueled. Leanne held her husband back a moment longer. "Naesala… wait a moment. I know you're eager to talk to Reyson…"

He smiled, eyes clear. "Yes, but it seems that can wait. What is it?"

"What was that I heard about singing?" she asked curiously.

Naesala flushed, contriving somehow to look simultaneously bashful and proud. "Well… she needed to know that even if I didn't go with her, you and I still loved her. That when she took off to make her own life, we would be the solid ground, if she needed to come back down… and the harmony to any songs she sings when she's lonely."

Leanne felt the tears prick again, entirely touched. She swallowed, and said, feeling her voice crack, "Well, she was right, wasn't she? You can't sing. Though I suppose I'm not the solid ground you meant."

He bent to kiss her lightly, and took her hand. "For me, maybe: but no, not for Lillia. Don't worry. Let's find breakfast."