Chapter Nineteen
His daughter.
Swiftly Sebastian looked back to Marian. The color had bleached from her face, her eyes silently begging him, and with the smallest motion of her chin she nodded. That, and no more. Not that he needed even that much confirmation. The girl's face, so closely echoing his own, was proof enough. In a moment's time, so many questions had been answered; the reason Marian had married so quickly, how she could have married a man she hadn't loved, her insistence on keeping their shared past secret, and why she'd taken such care to keep her daughter from his sight.
Now, though one question loomed even larger between them. He could understand perfectly why she'd clouded the facts of the little lass's conception when she was married to Lloyd and he himself was in Orlais. But once he came to Kirkwall, once he told her he loved her, why then hadn't she told him about her daughter? No, not her daughter. He couldn't call the girl that any longer. Their daughter. Unless she'd never meant to tell him. Unless she was so tangled in the mage resistance that she would have had to flee with Gabriel and leave him behind forever.
Damnation, why couldn't he think straight?
7-7-7
Marian watched, waited and silently prayed with all her heart that he'd understand. For nearly twelve years she'd both imagined and dreaded this moment, playing it through in her mind with a thousand different variations. In some of them Sebastian was angry, in others severe but forgiving. In her favorite ones he was overjoyed to discover he had a daughter, nearly as happy as Nova was to meet her father, and as in all the best stories, they'd all live together happily ever after. But not once had Marian dreamed they'd be standing on a beach, on a blindingly bright winter morning with half-dozen Templar bows trained upon them; nor had she ever pictured the expression that was now on Sebastian's face. Or, more precisely, the expression that wasn't there. His officer's face, she thought miserably, the one she knew he used to shut out the world. But not me, she prayed. Even after all that has gone wrong between us, please, please don't let him reject me now, not me and not Nova. Dear Gods, how will I find the strength to bear it if he scorns me now?
7-7-7
Sebastian turned around, squinting up at the men still lined along the top of the dune. "You, there," he called. " Corporal Keran, you stay with my horse. The rest of you are to join Knight-Captain Hunter's men and continue your search. I'll deal with these people myself and join you directly. He sensed their reluctance, saw it in how slowly they lowered their bows and how they hung back, waiting to see what would happen next. Damn them all, they were questioning his orders for a chance to ogle his private business. "Did I not make myself clear?" he roared. "You, there, Naylor. Did I order you to stand there gaping like an overworked whore?"
"No, sir," said the startled Naylor, snapping to attention. "No gaping like a whore, Knight-Commander."
"Very well. Then I have made myself clear enough?" The agreement rippled raggedly through the men and women, but at least now they moved on as they'd been ordered, and with a sigh Sebastian bent down to make himself nearer to his daughter's height. She was a pretty enough little lass, he'd grant her that, and with those great turquoise eyes, she was a Vael through and through. In a few years more she'd have the men flocking around her, he had no doubts. Being her father wouldn't be easy. He frowned at the prospect, and in response the set of the girl's mouth grew more stubborn still.
What in the Black Void did one say to a child, anyway? "What's your name, lass?" he asked gruffly. Well, it was a start, he couldn't go wrong with such a simple question.
"Nova Hawke." He caught the slight shuffle behind the girl as Marian prodded her into a more polite answer. "Nova Hawke, Messere."
"Ah. Nova." He cleared his throat self-consciously. He might not know a damn thing about children, but he knew a rebel the instant he saw one. "That's a pretty name for a pretty lass." The hostility in her swirling turquoise, to grey eyes didn't waver though, not a fraction. Well, he thought grudgingly, that was her Vael blood, too, as much as the brightness in her eyes. She wouldn't back down, but neither would he. She was a mage, too, though. That was Marian's doing, where the gray flecks in her eyes came from. And the irony that his own flesh and blood was a mage wasn't lost to him.
"Serha Vael said I'm your daughter," she said. "But he's wrong. Messere. You're not my father. My father's dead." Maker, she wasn't going to grant him even an inch.
"Messere Hawke, you mean." Desperately he looked to Marian for help, but all she granted him was a silent back and forth shake of her head. All right, then, he wouldn't pursue their newfound relationship. Even if the girl were having only half the trouble he was in accepting it, she'd have an excellent excuse for her behavior. "That's a pretty doll you have," he said, grasping at the obvious like a drowning man. "What's her name?"
Nova put both arms around the doll, squeezing it tight against her chest, almost daring Sebastian to try to take her. "Her name is Lady. Messere."
Sebastian smiled, wondering what had happened to all his much-boasted charm with the fairer sex. "Lady, is it? What is she the lady of?"
"Her name is Lady, messere," she said again, sharply, as if he weren't quite bright. "You're Sebastian, aren't you, messere?"
"Why, yes, I am." His smile widened, for he was pleased she'd volunteered something at last. "My name's Sebastian Vael. Your mama must have spoken of me, then."
"Yes, messere, she has," Nova said quickly. "I know all about you. You're a Templar and a damned traitor to your people, and you're certainly not my father and never will be."
"Nova!" cried Marian. "I've never said such things, as you know perfectly well!"
But beside her, Gabriel laughed.
"The little lass has ye' pegged right, Sebastian, does she nae'?" Sebastian rose, thankful for the chance to consider his brother, instead of his daughter. Marian had told him he'd be surprised by the change in Gabe, and she'd been right. Granted, more than a decade had passed since he saw him last, but the time had not passed easily for Gabriel. It wasn't just the first streaks of white that silvered his bronze mane, or how he'd grown heavier and broader than the brash young Lord that Sebastian remembered. It was more in the way his eyes had grown somehow empty, as if part of his soul had faded away. Even as Gabriel laughed, there was a sense of sorrow and loneliness that lingered around him, a weight that would never lighten. The death of Gabriel's wife had done this to him, or so Marian had said.
For the first time in his life, Sebastian could understand such grief. If he lost Marian now, if she left him, as it seemed she wished to do, then he wasn't sure how he'd be able to cope with the rest of his life without her. But it would be her choice. He would give that to her. At least this time he knew better than to try to force her against her will. To be strong when others were weak, to protect all that he loved and cherished most: that was what his grandfather had told him long ago, and that was what he'd believed he was doing when he came here to Kirkwall with the army. But maybe he'd been going about it all wrong. Maybe there was a better, more honorable path before him, if he'd only dare to take it.
Slowly he smiled at Gabriel, acutely aware of both the distance that lay between them and the closeness of the bond that still, despite the odds, seemed to remain. "Miss Nova can call me a traitor all she wishes," he said, falling into their old pattern of bantering, surprised how his brogue so naturally appeared. "Tis bound tae' be more honorable than whatever she'd call ye'. Ah' thought last night Ah' was rid O' ye' forever."
"Ha! Nae' so easy as that." Gabriel waved his hand over his wounded shoulder, and couldn't quite suppress the little wince of pain that the motion caused him. "Ye' always did pull yer' aim tae' the left."
"Tae' the right, ye' mean. Ye're the one who shoots wide tae' the left." Sebastian had seen the seriousness of Gabe's wound through the crack he'd spied through, and knew how closely he'd come to killing him. Enemy or not, he was fervently thankful now that he hadn't succeeded. "At least ye' did at The Green Dales, did ye' nae'?"
Acknowledgement gleamed in Gabriel's eyes. "So it was ye', eh? Ah' should have guessed nae' other officer would be fool enough tae' ride out there alone."
"Seein' as how The Green Dales is said tae' be Vael land, Ah' could say much the same o' ye', brother. Instead Ah'll' say we're even."
"Even?" repeated Gabriel with surprise. "The void we are!"
"The void we're nae," said Sebastian. "Ye' know, brother, ye' look like some raggedy-arse old blacksmith with that beard."
With a snort, Gabriel squashed his hat back onto his head. "Ah' willnae' say what ye' look like, Lord High Officer Jackarse o' The Lady Divine's bleedin' royal elite circus. Least Ah' willnae' say it before the lassies." He tried to smile, but managed only to twist his mouth to one side in a lopsided grimace. "So follow yer' orders, wee brother. Do what ye've come here tae' do. Ye've' caught me fair an' square, an' Ah'am ready tae' be marched in irons back tae' the city."
"Ah' haven't caught anyone, nae' yet," said Sebastian evenly. "Mah' orders are tae' capture the leader o' the rebels in these parts. But Ah' do believe Ah've' been mistaken. The man Ah' seek is a bold, fearsome, black-hearted rogue. Ye' look too feeble an' weak tae' walk ten paces, let alone lead half the rebel raids this man's claimed. Yes, Ah' must have been mistaken." From the corner of his eye, he watched Marian's eyes narrow in disbelief, heard her sharp gasp.
"Sebastian, what are you doing?"
He looked out at the ocean, unable to meet her eye. What was he doing? He was letting Gabriel escape to Antiva… To Starkhaven even. Any one of them could see that. His orders had been to put an end to the rebel raids, and to his mind that could be accomplished just as easily by sending Gabe away as by capturing him. But that wasn't all. Though she might not realize it, he was giving Marian her freedom, too, the freedom to decide her own destiny. He'd learn soon enough whether he'd have a place in the rest of her life or not.
7-7-7
"I'm following my orders, Lady Hawke," he said, his voice clipped, every hint of the jovial brogue gone. "Nothing more."
"No, you're not," she shot back, disbelief fading into desperation, as he still didn't look her way. She knew how important the Templar order was to him, how much it's righteousness and sense of honor, however misguided, was a part of his life. Could he really be so willing to put all that in jeopardy, even for Gabriel's sake? "You're not following your orders at all. By the Gods, Sebastian, what will happen to you if you do this?"
Impatiently Gabriel stepped forward, his long brown hair tossing in the wind. "Listen here, Sebastian. Ah' donnae' expect any favors like this from ye', an' Ah' donnae' want 'em."
"What makes ye' think this is a favor, ye' great fool?" demanded Sebastian, slicing his hand through the air before Gabriel's face. "Ah'd call it settlin' the score 'tween us, fer' once and fer' all. Ah'll admit tae' being mistaken about ye' here today, if ye' in turn agree tae' leave this city an' nae' return."
But Gabriel shook his head fiercely. "Ah' cannae' swear tae' that, Sebastian. Ye' could nae' either, in the same place, an' Ah'-"
"Halt right there!" shouted Dallas. He stood at the edge of the rock face, his feet widespread, elbows locked and both hands gripping tight to steady the bow he held trained on Sebastian. "Ye' just stop, right there!"
Gabriel swore under his breath. "What in the black void do ye' think ye're' doin', fella?"
Dallas tossed the hair back from his eyes, but the bow never wavered. "He nearly killed ye', Pa," he shouted, his voice going shrill with excitement and emotion. "Ah'am goin' tae' make sure he willnae' have another chance tae' try."
Gabriel rumbled with anger. "That's a damned fool thing tae' do, Dallie."
"Why, Pa? Ye' said yerself' the only good that comes from whitecoats comes from killin' them." Dallas raised his head defiantly, his hand drawing back the bow's string so harshly it's limbs hissed disapprovingly. "Better him than ye', anyways."
"What, an' let that one shot of yers' bring every blessed one o' his men runnin' back here tae' pepper ye' with arrows fer' yer' trouble?" demanded Gabriel. "Use the smarts Ah've taught ye', lad, nae' the bow."
"Dallas, please listen to your father!" cried Marian, her anguish real as she shoved Nova behind her. She didn't doubt that the boy was a capable shot; that was exactly what his father had trained him to do so well. Not only would Sebastian die, and her hopes and happiness with him, but Dallas, too, would suffer the rest of his own life for this one, impulsive action. "You can't do this! Look at him! Sebastian is your uncle, your kin! You cannot kill him, Dallas!" She saw how the strain on the bows limbs wavered, how the arrowhead trembled, the bright sun glancing off the sharp, silvery steel, and saw, too, how Dallas swallowed hard, swallowing his uncertainties.
"Ah' donnae' care, Mistress Hawke," he said, but the belligerence had slipped from his words. "Ah' am nae' allowed tae'. He's nae' mah' uncle anymore. He's a Templar, an' he's the enemy." Swiftly Marian glanced at Gabriel, who'd gone very still. Could he see what his bitterness, his hatred, had done to his son?
It was Sebastian who spoke first. "Ye're right, Dallas," he said, with a calmness that stunned Marian. "Ah' am a Templar, an' yer' enemy. If ye' plug me now, Ah'll die honorably, a good soldier's death. What more could Ah' want? But ye' willnae', nae' at all. It willnae' matter one bit tae' the Knight-Vigilant that ye're' a boy. He'll see ye' tried an' hanged as a traitor an' a murder anyway, an' leave yer' body in the Gallows tae' rot as an example. Do ye' truly think that yer' Pa wants that?" It seemed to Marian that Gabriel had aged another five years in the same number of minutes, his face haggard and pale.
"Listen to your uncle, muchacho!" young man, Zevran called, coming toward them from where he'd been waiting on the beach. "Taking his life, it's not worth yours." The bow wavered, uncertainty and questions written on Dallas' face as he leveled Zevran with confusion. "But, uncle Z," he said plaintively. "Ye' said…"
"Come, Dallie, an' give me the bow," interrupted Gabriel, catching his sons eyes once more, holding out his hand as he began walking toward the boy, one slow, cautious step at a time. "Just give me the bow." Closer he came, and finally Dallas let his elbows droop, and the bow fell to the packed sand with a heavy, harmless thud. His face crumpled with the tears he could no longer hold back, and he wheeled around toward the water to hide what Marian knew he perceived as shameful weakness. When Gabriel rested his arm across Dallas' shoulders, the boy roughly shrugged himself free. But when Gabriel tried a second time, Dallas slumped against him, his arms around his father and his face buried against his side. "The lad an' Ah' will be clearing off now," said Gabe heavily. "If our boats captain will still take us, that is."
"Of course, I've waited this long, hermano, brother, leaving now without you would simply be anti-climatic… and I do so enjoy a good climax." Zevran winked mischievously, padding back to his waiting boat.
"Ye' will leave Kirkwall then?" asked Sebastian, purposefully neutral. Not taking his eyes from Gabriel.
"Aye. Though Ah'll nae' swear tae' more than that." The two men looked hard at one another, a wealth of feeling unspoken between them.
Sebastian nodded. "Ye've a good lad there, Gabe."
"Ye've a good lass, too, if ye' take care nae' tae' misplace her again." Gabriel sighed tiredly. "An' ye've Marian."
"Good luck to you, Gabe," said Marian, struggling with the tears that knotted her throat. "And may the Gods keep you safe."
Gabriel shrugged, than winced. "The Gods will do what they please, especially with the likes o' me." His face softened. "Ye' keep safe, also, Marian Hawke, ye' an' Nova both. Ah' only wish Ah'd found ye' sooner myself."
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak further. She might not love Gabriel Vael, but she would miss him and Dallas, too. She felt Nova come to stand beside her, slipping one hand into Marian's while she silently waved goodbye to Dallas. Another time, she thought sadly as she raised her own hand in farewell, and she and Gabriel might have been happy together. Another time, and how different their lives might have been!
Not until then did she realize how closely Sebastian was watching her, his face once again a chiseled, dispassionate mask that revealed nothing. The golden trim on his jacket and the polished brass gorget around his neck glittered in the sunlight, and his hair was a shining bronze, all so bright and grand it almost hurt her eyes to look up at him. "You're not going with Gabriel?" he asked, with disinterest so patent that it chilled her heart, his spicy brogue once more non-existent. "Why come this far only to turn back?"
"He asked me to, but I told him no," she said, unable to hide her wistfulness. "I came with Gabriel to my cousin's house because I didn't believe he'd manage on his own, and to bring Nova home, as well. I followed them to the beach only to say goodbye. But I never would have gone with him. I belong here in Kirkwall, with Nova. And with you, Sebastian. The words froze, unsaid, at her lips. I belong here in Kirkwall… with you!
7-7-7
Sebastian wanted to believe her. How could he not? He wanted to believe, more than anything he'd ever wanted in his life, and now that he let himself at last look at her, really look, and see the love that shone so desperately from her eyes, he knew he'd be the greatest fool under the Maker's sky not to. There were so many fences to mend with her and their daughter both that he didn't know where to begin. But the one truth remained that Marian loved him – not Gabriel, not the rebel cause – but him, Sebastian Vael, maybe almost as much as he in turn loved her. He tugged off his glove and held his bare hand out to her. "Come, my love," he said softly. "High time we went back home."
7-7-7
Marian sat curled in the little armchair in her bedchambers, sipping her cup of coco while Nova played with Lady and the new tea set before the glow of the hearth. They'd retreated here for an early supper together and for a few quiet moments before Nova was put to bed and Marian returned to the taproom downstairs to welcome whatever guests The Rose might have this evening. It was the kind of simple evening they'd shared more times than Marian could count, the hour of the day she enjoyed and relished the most. But tonight the closeness she and Nova had always shared seemed missing, and sadly, Marian knew the reason why.
She watched her daughter play, carefully arranging the tiny cups and dishes as she murmured little sing-song conversations between Lady and an imaginary guest on the opposite side of the tea table. Though it was still two days until Solstice, Marian had decided to give Nova the tea set early, as a kind of homecoming gift. At least that was what she'd told Nova. What she'd secretly hoped was that the magically charged tea set might become a peace offering between them, a bridge that Marian might use to breach the hostile silence that Sebastian's presence had dropped between her and her daughter.
So far, as a gift, the tea set was an overwhelming success. Nova hadn't let it out of her sight. But its role as a peacemaker was far less certain. Marian sighed, setting her empty cup on the table beside her. She hadn't seen Sebastian since this morning, when he left them to report to the Knight-Vigilant and tend to the other business of his regiment, but he could be expected to return to the tavern at any time. If she was going to speak to Nova, she'd best do so now. "Nova, dove," she began softly. "We must talk about Knight-Commander Vael."
Though Nova's hand paused over the tea table, she didn't lift her head. "Don't want to," she muttered rebelliously. "Don't ever want to."
"Well, then, I shall do all the talking, and you shall do the listening," said Marian quietly. "No matter how you might wish it were otherwise, Nova, Sebastian Vael is your father."
"But he can't be!" cried Nova as she rocked back on her heels, hugging Lady tightly in her arms. "My father's dead!"
Marian nodded; trying to remember the explanation she'd been composing all afternoon. This wasn't going to be easy for either of them, especially when others began to take notice, the way they inevitably would. She was surprised that Orana hadn't already. "You're far more fortunate than most children, Nova. You've been blessed with two fathers instead of one," she said carefully. "Lloyd raised you for the first year of your life, and by the Gods, little dove, he loved you and was so, so proud of you. But Sebastian is your father, too, the one most people will now call your real father."
"How can he be my real father when he isn't even married to you?" Nova's voice trembled uncertainly. "Besides, I only want one father, like everyone else."
"Oh, dove…" Marian held her arms open and Nova flew to meet her, wriggling until she found her favorite place in her mother's lap. "I know it's hard to understand, But I do believe that Sebastian wants to learn to love you, too, like a proper father, if only you'll let him."
Nova sighed, a ragged, sobbing hiccup of a sigh. "How can I let him, when he's a Templar and I a mage?"
"You must try, that's all," said Marian gently as she stroked her daughter's silky hair. "You might find he's actually a very nice man, no matter what color his armor. And I don't think he knows any more of what to do with you, than you do with him." For a long time, Nova considered this, tracing her fingers back and forth across Lady's painted face while she did.
"Do you love him, Ma?"
Marian smiled fondly. "Yes, little dove, I do, and I believe he loves me, too."
"Oh." Nova burrowed more deeply against Marian. "Then will you still love me?"
"What a question, sweet dove!" exclaimed Marian gently, her arms tight around her daughter. "Of course I'll still love you, even more than I love you now, if such a thing is possible. You'll always be my sweet Nova, and that will never, ever change."
The girl sighed again, and unhappily Marian knew her doubts remained. "If you love him, Ma," said Nova slowly, "and he loves you, then you must marry him. Otherwise he can't be my real, real father."
"Oh, Nova." Marian was grateful that Nova couldn't see how she flushed, for this was one question she had no answer for. "That's not something we ladies can decide. We have to wait for the gentleman to ask."
The knock on the door came then, and Marian's heart beat faster with anticipation. It must be Sebastian; at this hour, who else would it be?
"Down with you now. I must get the door," she said as she disentangled herself from her daughter. She smoothed her robe and hurried to the door, still conscious of how Nova hung back. Poor baby, thought Marian with concern. How hard this all must be for her!
Sebastian bowed when she opened the door, his smile warm and his eyes filled with the pleasure of seeing her again. Yet he looked worn and tired, too, and when he bent to kiss her cheek – a chaste, genteel salute for Nova's benefit – Marian squeezed his hand in silent sympathy.
"I've missed you," she said, her words quick and low. "Very much."
"And I you." His smile turned wry, and she knew from the way he was studying her mouth that he wished he could kiss her there next. "After a promising beginning, my day proved most tedious and filled with drama."
Her smile faded. "You're in trouble, aren't you? Over Gabriel?"
"Maker, no," he said lightly. "Only a dozen different reports to make to the Divine and the Knight-Vigilant both, and a laundry list of explanations to be written as to why the sun did rise this morning and why it most likely will set again this night. The sort of boring nonsense that fills any soldier's days in camp. But where is Lady Nova?" He swept past Marian and into the room, and as he did, Marian's uneasiness grew. Sebastian's breezy cheerfulness might reassure Nova, but she herself feared the explanations to the Knight-Vigilant had, had a great deal more to do with Gabriel's escape than with the sunrise.
7-7-7
Carefully Sebastian set the willow basket he'd been carrying on the floor. He'd noticed how Nova hadn't greeted him – how could he not? – And how she clutched that hideous cross-eyed doll as if it were a talisman against him. Well, so be it. He was willing to begin again with her and this time he was determined to win her over. As in any sort of battle, he'd reasoned, victory was all in choosing the proper weapon.
The basket lurched to one side, rustling strangely. Curious Nova leaned closer, close enough that she could hear the faint huffs from within, and her eyes lit with excitement.
"Go ahead," said Sebastian. "Open it."
Eagerly Nova crouched beside the basket and unfastened the pegs that held the lid in place. Even before she had finished, a small pink nose had thrust itself from beneath the lid, and with a squeal of delight Nova pulled the tiniest, pure white Mabari pup from the basket. "Oh- oh!" She giggled as the pup launched its tiny body toward Nova; merrily flicking it's little tongue in wet kisses to the girl. "Oh, serha, what a beautiful pup. Mabari too, very Ferelden, my home! But it's white… and it's eyes… Red?"
"Aye, and I had rough time finding this pup too. I never realized how rare a Mabari is out of Ferelden. But I guessed you'd be a Mabari type warrioress like your mum, and so persevered until I found this little beauty. The man I bought her from said that eighty percent of all Mabari pups born are male, the females usually pass at birth and all come as your little pup, with red eyes and white fur, to prove how rare and special they are. Why, once he told me that I snatched her right up, for I know this rare and special little lass that the pup without doubt could imprint to." He wasn't being quite truthful on several counts. The pup was rare indeed, but no beauty, instead she was a scrawny white runt, with her eyes too close together and an undocked, wispy tail better suited to a rat. Keran was the one who'd scoured the city for a mabari pup so far from Ferelden, and who'd had to pay dearly for this sorry little example, too, though he'd done it on Sebastian's orders. And as for predicting that Nova would want a puppy more than anything else? Well, what child wouldn't want their very own war beast? Sebastian himself had always wished for a mabari, but no money in the world could imprint the great hounds to their owners, it had to come naturally, and it hadn't for him. But he was certain by the pup's reaction to his daughter, that the pup wouldn't have a problem with imprinting.
So he'd not been entirely truthful, perhaps, but he was overly successful. The ecstatic look on Nova's face told him that, and the quick glance over his shoulder to Marian confirmed it. Gently he stroked the pups ears, and was rewarded with a rumbling growl that sounded more like a cats purr, a rumble far bigger than seemed possible from so scrawny a body. "Of course, it will be up to your mother whether or not you can keep her," he said seriously, as if he didn't already know Marian's answer. "She's going to take a great deal of feeding and care."
"I can do that, serha," said Nova quickly. "I know I can!" To prove it, she jumped up and scraped what was left from their supper onto one plate, and carefully set it in front of the hungry pup before she looked back to Marian. "Mama? You'll let me keep her, won't you? Please?"
7-7-7
The scene before Marian now was so exactly as she'd pictured it that she could do little but grin foolishly. The two people she loved most in the world, sitting side by side on the floor, their heads bowed together over the pup as she gobbled the scraps, their bronze hair nearly identical in the dancing firelight. If it had taken a strange little stray to bring them together, then as far as Marian was concerned, the pup was forever guaranteed a place of honor at her hearth. By the way the pup made certain to keep apart of herself attached to Nova - even while she ate – Marian, knew from experience with her own honored Mabari, that to try to separate Nova from the pup would turn quite deadly, even with a scrawny, runt of a beast like the albino rarity anyways.
"If you tend to the pup as you say, Nova," she said as she knelt to stroke the animal's sleek, white fur for herself, "then yes, you may keep her. But you must feed her, keep her from mischief and be certain to train her. A Mabari pup without proper training can be a fearful beast. She will also need a name, as well."
"You have a Lady already," said Sebastian, and Marian mentally gave him extra credit for remembering the doll's name. "Why not name the puppy Princess?"
"Princess?" Marian wrinkled her nose, kneeling beside them. "By the Gods, Princess is hardly a proper name for a great mabari war hound."
Nova rubbed her cheek against the pups back. "I don't care. I shall name her Princess, the Princess of War hounds, so that when she grows up she can be the Queen of War hounds, too."
7-7-7
Sebastian leaned back against the seat of the chair behind him and linked his fingers around his bent knee, enjoying his victory more by the minute. He liked watching the little lass cradle the puppy, and listening to her giggle as the animal snuggled closer for a nap.
She was a winsome little creature, his daughter, and his smile widened with pleasure at the sound of that. His daughter. Strange how much this sudden fatherhood had changed the way he saw the world. Throughout this very long day, his thoughts had constantly been here with Marian and Nova, and he'd turned down an invitation to dine with the other officers in his regiment to come back to the tavern instead. It wasn't the wisest move, perhaps, especially not after the endless stream of questions from Cullen that he'd had to face down this afternoon. For the first time in his career, he hadn't been entirely truthful with his commanding officer, and his conscience was far from easy. But by letting Gabriel escape, Sebastian had done what he believed was for the best, and sitting here in Marian's bedchamber, in the glow of her happiness, he found it impossible to regret his decision. How could he? After being in the wind with the Divine's elite for so many years, this small, plainly furnished room was, because of Marian, the closest thing to a home he'd had for a long, long time. In a way, he felt as if he'd finally come full circle. If his grandfather had taught him the honor to be found in protecting and defending what he loved most, then now, at last, he felt as if he'd found it.
"I danced with a princess once," he said lazily. "At a great ball in Nevarra, though I don't remember who or what was being honored."
"Truly, serha?" Once again Nova's eyes lit with curious interest. "Was she very grand?"
"Hardly. She was one of the king's poor relations, from Cumberland, and she spoke not a word of English. Short and stout, and laced so tightly that she wheezed as she danced. Stepped on my toes, too." Somehow he kept his face serious, even though he could hear Marian laughing. "But she was a full-blooded princess."
Disappointed, Nova shook her head. "That's not how princesses should be."
"No, I can't say she was," he agreed. He looked to Marian, their shared gaze lingering over the top of Nova's head. "But your mother, now, she'd make a most admirable princess. Drape her in silk and jewels, and she'd have every gentleman in the land bowing at her feet."
"Stop speaking such foolish nonsense, Vael," scoffed Marian, yet still blushing from the tops of her exposed shoulders, on up. "I've no wish to live in some haughty, drafty palace and wear a crown. Besides, what could I possibly have-"
"If you married my Mama, serha." Nova interrupted, rocking the snoozing pup gently.
"Then she'd be a true princess, seeing as you're a prince and all. That is, only if you love her of course."
7-7-7
Marian's mouth fell, her good humor tapering off to embarrassment. Marian had always made certain Nova spoke her mind, taught her to never let anyone burn out the fiery light inside. But sometimes, like now – as silence filled the room - that outspoken fire could really come back to bite Marian in the ass.
The little Cuckoo clock over the hearth chimed nine, and Marian jumped to her feet glad for the diversion. "Time for bed, Nova," she said briskly. "You know I'm past due downstairs. Come along now. And before you ask, yes Princess can sleep with you."
"Thank you, Mama!" Carefully, so as not to wake the pup, Nova slung an arm around Marian, hugging her awkwardly. Then she turned toward Sebastian, and bobbed a shy, jerky curtsy, with the pup still in her arms. "Thank you, too, serha. For Princess, I mean. And please think about what I've said, about my mother and all." She skipped off to her own room before Sebastian could answer, and Marian followed to help her change, though, not because the girl needed help, but more because Marian wasn't sure how to face Sebastian, after their daughter's bold words.
Making it through the door to Nova's bedroom though, she glanced back toward Sebastian. Saw how he lingered, uncertainly in the doorway of her bedchamber. And her heart broke for him. She could tell by how he leaned awkwardly on the doorframe that he wasn't quite sure were he'd fit in such a normal routine. She admired his respect for her and Nova, how he didn't want to push his welcome. "You can say goodnight to her, too, if you wish," she called over her shoulder. "And to Princess."
7-7-7
Sebastian jerked, startled how Marian seemed to read his mind and cleared his throat self-consciously as he went into the little room adjoining Marian's. A tall candle – tall enough to last far into the night – burned in a tin lantern beside Nova's low bed. The little girl herself lay beneath a soft wool blanket, the cross-eyed doll tucked beside her on one side and the puppy curled against her on the other.
"Princess looks comfortable enough," he said. "So do you, for that matter."
"I am." For the first time, Nova smiled at him. "That is, I am, serha, thank you."
Sebastian reached out to stroke the pup's head. "Do you think we could do away with that 'serha' business?" he asked. "That is, if your mama thinks it not too ill-mannered."
"She won't mind." Nova shifted to her side leaning her head on her hand as she curved herself around the sleeping mabari. "Mama told me that you truly are my real father, and that everyone will know because I favor you."
"Well, it is true," he said uncomfortably. "On both counts. It's only that I've been away, that's all."
"Eleven years is a great long while to be away," said Nova. "But you're here now, and that makes Mama happy, so I suppose Princess and I shall be happy, too. Even if you are a whitecoat." She flopped back down on her pillow with a drowsy, contented yawn. "Goodnight… Papa."
"Goodnight, sweet lass," said Sebastian gruffly, surprised by the lump that seemed to have swelled in his throat. He bent down to brush his lips across his daughter's forehead, and found it the most natural thing in the world to do.
"The mabari pup was a masterstroke," said Marian as he rejoined her in the larger bedchamber. "You couldn't have chosen a better way to please her."
"A lucky guess," he murmured, once again glancing back to the sleeping child. "I don't really know where to begin."
"You, my love, are managing admirably," said Marian fondly as she smoothed stray locks of her hair back into the golden pin she wore. "Continue as you've begun, and she'll quite forget I exist."
"Will she be safe alone in there?" he asked with concern. "She looks even younger when she's asleep."
"She'll be fine," said Marian, with amusement in her tone. "You forget that she's only known a mother who's toiled hard paths her whole life. When she was a baby she spent most her hours amongst the city guard, or with Carver. But since Orana came into our lives, she's been able to stay first at our family manor, and then The Rose. I lock her in at night, of course, but leave another key tied to the latch on her side, as well, so she can come out and find me if she needs to."
Sebastian watched as she nervously hooked the key ring to the tether at her waist, her eyes meeting his uncertainly. "Listen, about what Nova said, about us and marriage-"
"Marian, what if I asked for your hand right now?" asked Sebastian earnestly. For he did want to marry her, wanted to go about this… them, the right way for once in his life.
"I'd be mortified!"
"Mortified." Sebastian repeated, utterly confused. Searching her face for answers, only to be confused further by the odd smile on her face.
"I love you Sebastian Vael. You have shown me the world in a way I've never been able to see it before. But for you, to ask me, now… It would seem cheap, forced even and I don't want that for us. Right now, I'm happy just knowing you love me, and I you. Now, do you wish to come with me, or shall I meet you later?"
Sebastian felt his heart pound with her sweet honesty, he could understand her thinking, though he knew for himself there would be nothing forced about a proposal now. But there would be time for that in the future. His face fell at the latter part of her speech however. " I had thought we'd stay here, my love," he said, reaching for her hand. "Together."
Gently she touched her fingers across his lips, the caress easing his eyes closed. "I can't, Sebastian, not yet, as much as I wish to," her tone regretful. "I must see to my guests in the taproom, the way I do every night."
"There aren't any guests," he said, his voice low and suggestive. "At least there weren't any when I came in earlier. And even if there were, they could spare their Viscountess just this once."
"Sebastian I can explain that. It's just that… I-"
"Shh, lass." He chided playfully, pulling her closer, near enough to kiss her lightly, and the sound she made was suspiciously similar to the little pup's growled purr.
"It doesn't matter Mari. Now just stay," he whispered against her lips. In fact, it was almost an order. "I haven't given you your gift, you know."
"Later," she breathed, and slipped free. "I swear it."
7-7-7
In the hall, her fingers were trembling as she locked the door after them, and he kissed her again, enough to make her resolve melt away to near nothingness. Near, but not quite. If she'd come this far without giving in, her scrambled conscience reasoned, then continuing the rest of the way downstairs, to her responsibilities in the public rooms would be easy.
But her conscience had forgotten that between her chamber and the public rooms lay the chamber that was Sebastian's, a chamber with a feather bed, a fire and the sweet, heady memories of the night before, and as he latched the door after them, Marian's conscience at last fell helplessly, obligingly silent. Sebastian was right the city could do with out her Viscountess for the night.
So, because ElyssaCousland asked so nicely, and because I don't want her poor heart to burst, I decided I could push this next chapter out tonight, instead of leaving it on that cliffhanger!
Night all!
-Scar