A Little Help from Friends

Regin looked helplessly down at the red-faced baby in his lap, unsure of what to do next. His wife had asked to visit her family for Midwinter's Day, but they apparently did not appreciate small children at their celebration. Since Regin was still trying to impress his beautiful, sophisticated wife, he had offered to watch their daughter, forgetting at the time that their nanny was off for the holiday. Still, he had put on a brave face as he helped his wife into the carriage half an hour before, assuring her that he had handled far more difficult situations—though at the moment, he was struggling to think of one.

Things had gone well at first. He had given his daughter some milk as he had seen the nanny do dozens of times, and she drank it eagerly. Unfortunately, once she had finished the bottle, she began screaming immediately. Regin had attempted to give her another bottle, but she had turned her head, refusing it, still screaming. At that point, Regin had begun going down a mental list of people he might ask for help. His wife and the nanny were both too far; he really needed to find someone at the Guild. Most of his friends, however, were childless and would likely know less about dealing with an infant than he did. There was one person, however, who he was sure would know how to help him. She would also tease him mercilessly, he was sure, but the screaming was beginning to grate on Regin's nerves, and he was getting desperate.

Out of options, Regin grabbed his daughter's coat and wrapped it around her before stepping outside. He created a heat shield around both of them, walking quickly down the cleared path to his destination. When he reached the front step, he took a deep breath and raised his hand to knock, but the door swung open before his fist reached it, revealing the person he had come to see. "Regin. To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure?" Sonea asked, canting her head to the side.

"I can't get Maeva to stop screaming," Regin said, gesturing to his daughter with his free hand. He had assumed his problem would be rather obvious.

"Where is Vera?"

"With her family. Please, Sonea, you know I would not have come asking for your help unless I was desperate." Sonea studied him for a moment, eyebrows raised, before stepping out of the doorway.

"Come on in." Regin gratefully stepped into the warm building, and the door swung shut behind him. "Have you tried feeding her?" Sonea questioned.

Regin huffed. "Of course. I am not completely incompetent. She drank her whole bottle and did not want anything else, but she still won't stop screaming. Can't you just. . . I don't know. . . do whatever it is you do to make babies stop screaming?"

"How have you been a father for six months without knowing how to take care of your daughter?"

"I've never been alone with her before!" Desperate, Regin thrust his hands out, and Sonea automatically took Maeva from him. She raised the infant to her shoulder, but Maeva continued to scream inconsolably.

"Looks like we'll need Akkarin," Sonea remarked, heading toward the stairs. Regin's eyes widened. He had assumed he could just bring his daughter to Sonea and let her calm Maeva down for a few minutes before taking her home. He had no intention of bothering Sonea's frightening husband on a holiday.

"Why Akkarin?" he asked, following Sonea.

"He's far better than me at calming babies. I do not know how I would have survived Orson and Eoghan's early months without him—they were both colicky." She made her way down the upstairs hallway to a sitting room where all five of her children sat on the floor, surrounded by gifts. Akkarin sat in a chair nearby, an eyebrow raised in question when he saw the visitors.

"Lord Regin. I was not expecting you today."

"Regin got himself in over his head," Sonea explained, stepping closer to her husband and holding out the baby. Akkarin took her and raised her to his shoulder with practiced ease.

"Indeed?" One of his large hands splayed across the infant's back as the other supported her bottom, bouncing her gently. "Gas, it seems," he remarked after a moment.

"Did you bring a burp rag?" Sonea asked, turning to Regin. His brow furrowed.

"What for?" Sonea gave an exasperated sigh, but her husband interrupted before she could berate him.

"It is too late now." Regin turned, his face reddening when he noted the white stain on Akkarin's robes. As he watched, the spot dried, presumably with magic, leaving only white streaks which were still quite visible. Regin began to stammer an apology, wondering if his morning could possibly get more embarrassing, but Akkarin surprisingly waved him off. "It is not the first time."

Sonea studied the baby closely, and Regin realized with a start that she did seem to be calming. At least, her cries were far softer now. It seemed that Sonea had not been exaggerating about her husband's skills with babies, and Regin briefly wondered what other hidden skills Akkarin might have before deciding that it was probably best he did not know. "Has she slept yet this morning?" Sonea questioned suddenly.

Regin looked at her, confused. "I'm sorry?"

"Has she had her morning nap?"

"She woke up less than three hours ago!"

Sonea sighed, rolling her eyes before looking to her husband. "I believe the cradle is still in the attic," he remarked. Sonea nodded.

"Come on, Regin. You can make yourself useful and help me bring it down."

"What?"

"Your daughter needs somewhere to sleep. Unless you plan on holding her for her nap? I'd say you could take her home, but I worry about her safety if it's just you and her there." Regin wanted to object, but he realized he had no true grounds for objection. Instead, he followed Sonea toward the attic.

"I could get it by myself if you want to stay," he told her, trying to be helpful.

"You don't know where it is; it will be easier if I come with you."

"Are you sure your husband will be okay with all the children?"

Sonea gave a small snort of laughter. "Trust me, he can handle it. Unlike some, he has experience watching children alone." Regin glanced back at the sitting room, noting that Sonea's youngest had climbed into her father's lap as well, but he had effortlessly shifted a now quiet Maeva to the side so he could hold them both, seeming perfectly comfortable doing so. It should have seemed incongruous to see so formidable a man with two small children in his lap and four more surrounding him, but it oddly seemed to fit him well, and Regin realized that there was a great deal he did not understand about Sonea's husband and likely never would. But perhaps he could still learn something from Akkarin.