In all the bustle of court life as it settled into place after the True Queen regained her throne, there was one small family who were still unsettled for now. Though Conall and Liayna were a part of Clan Tarven, who had returned to the lands around Phalion to resume their nomadic existence, they had chosen to stay in Loscar a while longer, to see their friends settle into these new lives. Yet it was not only for that reason they had stayed.
By the time life in the capital had grown peaceful once more, Liayna had been too heavy with child for them to consider the month-long journey to the north, and so their daughter - the unexpected blessing that had come on them in the midst of war - was born in a small grove outside the city of Loscar, watched over by an honor guard from the clan of the Doma who had born both Liayna and Rory, delivered by the Goddess-born Kari, her great-grandmother. Vespera, they had named her, for the stars that shone on them without the moon to dim their light on the night she had finally been born; a name in the old tongue the Wild Ones still used among themselves.
The weeks that followed were devoted to Liayna's recovery, and to learning how to be parents to the little life that now depended upon them; to sharing their joy with the friends who visited them whenever they could. It was a new beginning, and one they seemed ready to embrace.
For a man who had once been a blacksmith and then a soldier, second in command to the leader of the rebellion, Conall Riordan seemed oddly content with his new life as a husband and father and clan member. If he'd known he was half Wild One, his life might have been different, but he had no complaints. How could he complain when he at last had the life he'd always dreamed of, and that included a loving wife and a healthy daughter"
Soon, they would pack up and head north, to rejoin Kari and Clan Tarven and find their place among their clansmen in this strange time of peace. But for now, this time was their own, to share or to protect, whichever they chose to do. The summer was just around the corner, bringing with it warm sunshine and fragrant winds, and the calling to the wilds that lived in their blood.
Liayna sat on a high, smooth boulder near their campsite, her bow at her side, and their daughter nestled comfortably against her as she suckled, breathing in the clean air of the summer to come with a contented smile on her face, heedless of the curious glances that came her way from the main road in and out of Loscar. She might have been visible to the Arctrans passing by, but they couldn't reach her. Not without Conall removing their spines for their rudeness in trying, anyway.
There was nothing more beautiful to Conall's eyes than the sight of his wife nursing their daughter, but every time one of the Arctrans glanced over, whether out of curiosity or interest or disgust, they turned quickly away due to the look of warning on the big man's face. "Why are we here, Liayna?" he asked, his voice betraying his impatience.
She chuckled softly, unmoved by the curiosity in the eyes of those who looked toward them. "Because there is company coming, eniro," she told him fondly. "It would be rude to force them to hunt us out when we can just as easily be visible to their eyes as they approach. We are in no danger."
"It's not danger that troubles me," the man replied, with a pointed glare toward those who were glancing their way. He almost growled with displeasure and bared his teeth, like a bear protecting his cubs. It did the trick though as the onlookers hurried away with some mumbled remark about "heathens".
"And if we hide from the eyes of those who have heard only stories of our brutality, then we do ourselves more harm," she pointed out to him with a smile. "Look at them, eniro. They are curious because it is obvious that we are not like them. Because they have heard stories about the savages in the wilds, who attack without warning and eat the flesh of their enemies, who use magic of blood and bone and necromancy, and who cannot possibly be anything like them. And what do they see when they look on us" A family, very like their own. Not so frightening, after all."
"Perhaps," Conall admitted grudgingly, his expression softening a fraction, though he was not going to let anyone get close to his wife and daughter without his say so. He'd lived most of his life among Arctrans and was half-Arctran himself, but ever since learning that he was also half-Clan Tarven, he had become even more protective of his wife and her people, as they were also his own. "What do you want me to do?" he asked, unsure what she expected of him.
Liayna laughed softly, lifting one hand from their daughter to touch his cheek with a fond look in her eyes. "Talk to me," she told him. "I know there is company coming, but I don't know when they will arrive, or even who it will be. Rory would know, but he's in that appalling cesspit they call a city."
"I don't know, either," Conall admitted with a scowl. He'd assumed his wife knew why they'd been sent to wait here, but it seemed he'd been wrong. If there was one thing that annoyed him, it was subterfuge. Now that Arctra was at peace - even if that peace was a tenuous one - he was hoping to join the clan and learn what it meant to be one of them, but he could not completely turn his back on the people who'd become his friends.
Liayna would never ask him to do that, either. She, too, had become fond of those few in the city she was privileged to call friend - of Liam and Shaye, of Ariana and Rory. Their friendship was something she would not willingly give up. She could foresee many visits to this stinking city just to see them in the years to come. "Why are you so on edge, eniro"" she asked him curiously, gently raising Vespera to her shoulder. The little head bobbed around until clear green eyes stared, unfocused, at her father as her back was rubbed.
"I don't know," he repeated, furrowing his brows. He was on edge - that much was certain - but he wasn't quite sure why, other than the fact that he wasn't a very patient man and wasn't overly fond of waiting for something, especially when he wasn't too sure what the something was that he was waiting for. "Something just doesn't feel right to me," he replied, though it was hard to say. He had always had gut feelings about things, but without any training in how to interpret those feelings, he'd always had a hard time understanding them.
Liayna's smile was a little crooked as she looked over their daughter's head in his direction. "How does it feel?" she asked. Some instincts they shared, she knew, but she had a lifetime of understanding them. He had only been aware of his connection to the Wild Ones for a little under a year, only just beginning to explore what that meant for him.
He didn't want to repeat himself a third time, but he wasn't really sure. He hadn't had much practice in interpreting those gut feelings, but there was only one way to learn and that was to try. "It feels ..." He trailed off, dark brows furrowing as he considered her question. "It's something to do with the First Blade. With De Winter, I mean." Though not close friends, Liam had spoken highly of the man, and Conall trusted Liam's word implicitly.
"Does it feel troubling, or more that you're waiting for something to happen?" she questioned him further. There was a purpose to her questions; he needed to be able to interpret those feelings if he was ever going to be able to fully embrace what it meant to be touched by the Goddess.
By the time life in the capital had grown peaceful once more, Liayna had been too heavy with child for them to consider the month-long journey to the north, and so their daughter - the unexpected blessing that had come on them in the midst of war - was born in a small grove outside the city of Loscar, watched over by an honor guard from the clan of the Doma who had born both Liayna and Rory, delivered by the Goddess-born Kari, her great-grandmother. Vespera, they had named her, for the stars that shone on them without the moon to dim their light on the night she had finally been born; a name in the old tongue the Wild Ones still used among themselves.
The weeks that followed were devoted to Liayna's recovery, and to learning how to be parents to the little life that now depended upon them; to sharing their joy with the friends who visited them whenever they could. It was a new beginning, and one they seemed ready to embrace.
For a man who had once been a blacksmith and then a soldier, second in command to the leader of the rebellion, Conall Riordan seemed oddly content with his new life as a husband and father and clan member. If he'd known he was half Wild One, his life might have been different, but he had no complaints. How could he complain when he at last had the life he'd always dreamed of, and that included a loving wife and a healthy daughter"
Soon, they would pack up and head north, to rejoin Kari and Clan Tarven and find their place among their clansmen in this strange time of peace. But for now, this time was their own, to share or to protect, whichever they chose to do. The summer was just around the corner, bringing with it warm sunshine and fragrant winds, and the calling to the wilds that lived in their blood.
Liayna sat on a high, smooth boulder near their campsite, her bow at her side, and their daughter nestled comfortably against her as she suckled, breathing in the clean air of the summer to come with a contented smile on her face, heedless of the curious glances that came her way from the main road in and out of Loscar. She might have been visible to the Arctrans passing by, but they couldn't reach her. Not without Conall removing their spines for their rudeness in trying, anyway.
There was nothing more beautiful to Conall's eyes than the sight of his wife nursing their daughter, but every time one of the Arctrans glanced over, whether out of curiosity or interest or disgust, they turned quickly away due to the look of warning on the big man's face. "Why are we here, Liayna?" he asked, his voice betraying his impatience.
She chuckled softly, unmoved by the curiosity in the eyes of those who looked toward them. "Because there is company coming, eniro," she told him fondly. "It would be rude to force them to hunt us out when we can just as easily be visible to their eyes as they approach. We are in no danger."
"It's not danger that troubles me," the man replied, with a pointed glare toward those who were glancing their way. He almost growled with displeasure and bared his teeth, like a bear protecting his cubs. It did the trick though as the onlookers hurried away with some mumbled remark about "heathens".
"And if we hide from the eyes of those who have heard only stories of our brutality, then we do ourselves more harm," she pointed out to him with a smile. "Look at them, eniro. They are curious because it is obvious that we are not like them. Because they have heard stories about the savages in the wilds, who attack without warning and eat the flesh of their enemies, who use magic of blood and bone and necromancy, and who cannot possibly be anything like them. And what do they see when they look on us" A family, very like their own. Not so frightening, after all."
"Perhaps," Conall admitted grudgingly, his expression softening a fraction, though he was not going to let anyone get close to his wife and daughter without his say so. He'd lived most of his life among Arctrans and was half-Arctran himself, but ever since learning that he was also half-Clan Tarven, he had become even more protective of his wife and her people, as they were also his own. "What do you want me to do?" he asked, unsure what she expected of him.
Liayna laughed softly, lifting one hand from their daughter to touch his cheek with a fond look in her eyes. "Talk to me," she told him. "I know there is company coming, but I don't know when they will arrive, or even who it will be. Rory would know, but he's in that appalling cesspit they call a city."
"I don't know, either," Conall admitted with a scowl. He'd assumed his wife knew why they'd been sent to wait here, but it seemed he'd been wrong. If there was one thing that annoyed him, it was subterfuge. Now that Arctra was at peace - even if that peace was a tenuous one - he was hoping to join the clan and learn what it meant to be one of them, but he could not completely turn his back on the people who'd become his friends.
Liayna would never ask him to do that, either. She, too, had become fond of those few in the city she was privileged to call friend - of Liam and Shaye, of Ariana and Rory. Their friendship was something she would not willingly give up. She could foresee many visits to this stinking city just to see them in the years to come. "Why are you so on edge, eniro"" she asked him curiously, gently raising Vespera to her shoulder. The little head bobbed around until clear green eyes stared, unfocused, at her father as her back was rubbed.
"I don't know," he repeated, furrowing his brows. He was on edge - that much was certain - but he wasn't quite sure why, other than the fact that he wasn't a very patient man and wasn't overly fond of waiting for something, especially when he wasn't too sure what the something was that he was waiting for. "Something just doesn't feel right to me," he replied, though it was hard to say. He had always had gut feelings about things, but without any training in how to interpret those feelings, he'd always had a hard time understanding them.
Liayna's smile was a little crooked as she looked over their daughter's head in his direction. "How does it feel?" she asked. Some instincts they shared, she knew, but she had a lifetime of understanding them. He had only been aware of his connection to the Wild Ones for a little under a year, only just beginning to explore what that meant for him.
He didn't want to repeat himself a third time, but he wasn't really sure. He hadn't had much practice in interpreting those gut feelings, but there was only one way to learn and that was to try. "It feels ..." He trailed off, dark brows furrowing as he considered her question. "It's something to do with the First Blade. With De Winter, I mean." Though not close friends, Liam had spoken highly of the man, and Conall trusted Liam's word implicitly.
"Does it feel troubling, or more that you're waiting for something to happen?" she questioned him further. There was a purpose to her questions; he needed to be able to interpret those feelings if he was ever going to be able to fully embrace what it meant to be touched by the Goddess.