Not every production goes smoothly. At the Shanachie, as with many other theaters across the multiverse, sometimes the performers were asked to arrive an hour or so earlier than they would for the next performance, to run through what had gone awry the evening before. Today was one of those days.

Mataya De Luca, owner and sometime performer when she could be talked into it, stood in the back of the stalls, watching the swift run-through of two of the musical numbers with a practised eye. A quiet giggle caught her attention, and she let her eyes slip toward a figure seated in the stalls, a toddler on his lap. Oh, yes. She'd been hoping to catch Aran for a quick chat.

The giggle was coming from little Aluviel - Aran and Carina's daughter - who had just turned two in June and who was half-elf and half-human, like her parents before her. It seemed the giggling was in part due to the silliness taking part on stage, but mostly due to the fact that her father was silently imitating the actions with his daughter's stuffed bunny.

Smiling at the little scene, Mataya pushed herself from her lean against the back wall, making her way toward the father and daughter. Her hand gently touched Aran's shoulder as she slipped a couple of seats along the row behind him.

"Hello, stranger."

A few years ago, Aran might have been startled by the interruption, as gentle and friendly as it was, but he had come a long way since his arrival in Rhy'Din some years ago. Instead of a startled expression, he only smiled, pleasantly surprised to find Mataya herself greeting him.

"Mae govannen, Mataya," he greeted her in his native language. "You remember Alu," he added, regarding his daughter.

"I do," Mataya agreed, leaning over the back of the seat to gently tweak Aluviel's nose. "Getting prettier every time I see her, too." The toddler beamed, holding up her rabbit to have his nose tweaked as well, which Mataya was more than happy to do. "You're looking well, Aran," she added, smiling at the half-elf warmly.

"As are you," he replied, not only because it was polite, but because it was true. He hoped he was right in his assumption, as he thought it impolite to pry. "Carina has been so excited to get back to work again," he said, smiling warmly. She hadn't had a large part in the recent production of Mary Poppins, but had played the lead role in My Fair Lady back in July.

"That voice of hers just gets stronger and stronger," Mataya told him, deeply approving of the very musical young family she insisted she had brought together just by employing the pair of them. "How is your voice doing these days" Not missing the theater?"

There was a brief small flicker of a frown on his face at the question. Either he was confused by the questions or troubled by them.

"My voice has not changed, Mataya," he told her, unsure why it would. Even without training and practice, he was gifted with a naturally perfect tenor voice.

Laughing quietly, Mataya patted his shoulder. "I always manage to confuse you, don't I?" she said. "I'm wondering if you would like to be a guest here again, Aran. Josh is taking time away, since they're expecting their first."

"A guest?" Aran echoed, looking just a little less confused. "But I did not audition," he pointed out. Then again, she had invited him without a formal audition once before, and it was her theater; hence, she could do whatever she wanted. "Did Josh tell you to ask me?" he said, a little suspiciously.

Josh and Dru had told him they were taking time off from the theater and had even gone so far as hinted that Mataya might be looking for someone to take Josh's place, but Aran hadn't thought much about it.

"As a former cast member in good standing, you don't need to audition," she pointed out to him. The suspicion in his voice and face made her laugh quietly. "I may have suggested to him that you would be my first choice if you were interested, but I didn't think he was listening. I genuinely think he was expecting me to throw him out for needing to take time with his family."

Both Josh and Aran were not only juggling a wife and family, but royal duties as princes of their respective nations and people. It was why chiefly why Aran had left the theater a few years ago, to focus on helping his people settle in Rhy'Din, but that had mostly been accomplished by now.

"His life has changed since becoming Prince Consort," Aran pointed out, though Mataya likely knew that already. He wasn't sure exactly what kind of responsibilities Josh and Dru had to manage in the neighboring country of Tirisano, but he had a feeling it kept them busy.

"So I hear," she agreed quietly. "But there'll always be a place open for him here, if he wants it. Same goes for Dru, although I get why she won't perform again. All it would take would be one photograph, and the scandal would be immense for them."

"Scandal?" Aran echoed, looking a little confused again. Even after a few years here, Rhy'Din could still be a little confusing. "Why would there be a scandal?" Dru was a sovereign in her own nation, but she was just Dru Granger here in Rhy'Din.

"A ruling monarch taking time out of her duties to perform on stage in another country would cause no end of unrest at home," Mataya explained with a regretful smile. "Tirisano doesn't have the same culture that we do here in Rhy'Din - they don't have musical theater, or any race other than human. Josh and Dru are working on that, but it's going to take time."

"I see," Aran murmured.

There was that frown again, this time thoughtful. His people hadn't known theater either, until they'd come here, but he and Carina had introduced it to them and encouraged their patronage of the Shanachie and other theaters in Rhy'Din. His answer was mostly in reply to the mention of scandal, though. He didn't need to worry about such things, now that he and his people were settled in Rhy'Din. He privately wondered if the people of Tirisano were prejudiced against elves and other races, but was too polite to ask. Josh and Dru had never seemed to be, but he wasn't sure that mattered.

"Do you think they will miss it?"

"Honestly' Yeah, I think they will." Mataya sighed softly, glancing up at the stage as someone took a fall from their heels. She smirked faintly at the laughter this entailed before returning to the conversation. "But it doesn't mean they'll stop visiting here, or stop coming to the theater. They've already asked if I can put together a small company to introduce musical theater to Tirisano, so they obviously have plans on that score."

Carina laughed, shaking her head as she kissed Alu's cheek. "I'm fine," she promised Aran. "I've been falling off those heels all week - not when I'm dancing, just when I'm walking around. My clumsiness has exquisite timing."

"They are a little impractical," Aran said, having seen the shoes up close. Impractical was putting it mildly, he thought, but he understood they were part of her costume. "I do not understand the show," he confessed to her something he would not have admitted to Mataya.

"I don't understand all of it myself," Carina admitted. "It's rooted in the culture on one of the Earths in the 1970s, I think. There are a lot of cultural touchstones there that we just don't have."

"It has to do with an autumn festival, does it not?" he asked, uncertainly. He didn't quite understand the concept of Halloween, its origins or traditions. His own people had celebrated the autumn harvest in a very different way than did those of Rhy'Din, it seemed.

"I think so?" She didn't seem too sure about it herself. "I don't know. It's silly, and the audiences enjoy how interactive it is. So long as people have fun, I guess it doesn't really matter where it came from."

"I suppose not," Aran conceded. He knew the musical had something to do with old Earth films known as "B horror movies", but he wasn't entirely sure what that meant. "But you are enjoying the show?" he asked, as that was all that was really important.

"I am." Her smile assured him of that, at least; the costumes might have taken a little time to get used to, but inhabiting a character always helped. "Did the two of you enjoy your little glimpse into the chaos?"

Aran smiled, glancing briefly at the little girl in his arms. "We did, until someone fell asleep," he told her, though that much seemed obvious. "Are you ready to go home?" he asked, though home for now was the apartment in Rhy'Din Mataya had mentioned, until the current show had finished its run.

Carina nodded. "Oh, yes," she agreed. "I don't need to be back here for two hours or so." She stroked her hand over Aluviel's back, smiling when the little girl mumbled in her sleep before pressing her face closer into Aran's shoulder.

"Her bunny tired her out," Aran explained, though that was obviously not really true. He would have taken Carina's hand, if it were not for the fact that he was holding their daughter. He did lean closer, however, to touch a kiss to her lips. "I do not understand the play, but you were amazing," he told her quietly, even though it had only been rehearsal.

She beamed into his kiss, preening under his praise. "I am glad you enjoyed seeing part of it," she answered, shouldering her bag as they turned together to leave the auditorium. "Did I see you talking to Mataya?"

"Yes," he replied, falling into step beside her with a small thoughtful frown on his face. "She asked if I wished to return to the theater as a guest. With Josh taking a break, it seems she is short a performer," he explained.

Carina's face lit up brightly at this prospect. "Oh, what a lovely offer," she declared. "Would you consider it' I know you wanted to focus on Anarven and our family a while longer after I came back."

"I don't know," he replied, as honestly as he could. "I did not think I would miss it, but it was ....fun," he said, hesitating a moment before finding the word he was looking for. There had not been a lot of fun in his life, until he'd found himself in Rhy'Din and employed at the Shanachie.

"Fun is worth having in your life," she said gently. "No one would begrudge you a spot at the Shanachie, melamin. Anarven is thriving."

"Yes, but we would have to find someone to watch Alu," he pointed out. "Can you think of anyone who we would trust her with?" he asked, a teasing sparkle in his eyes as they both knew Carina's parents would love the chance to watch their grand-daughter from time to time.

She laughed. "There might have to be a schedule between my parents and my grand-parents," she said in amusement. One thing that was in no doubt was that Alu would always have someone who loved her to look after her in her parents' absence.

"But do you think she'd miss us too much?" he asked, with a brief but loving glance at their daughter all nestled against his chest. In truth, they wouldn't be away that much, especially if he were only performing as an occasional guest, whenever he was needed.

"I think it may be good for all of us to have a little time apart from time to time," Carina mused. "It would only be for a few hours at a time. I am sure my parents would happily live in the city for two weeks at a time during performances."

"I would only be a guest performer," he told her. At least, for now. It was the best of both worlds, really, as the saying went. That way, he'd be able to partake in the shows from time to time, but still have time for his family and his people. "I don't know why I didn't think of it before," he admitted, with a bit of a chuckle at himself, but at the time, he had thought it more important to be there for his people who had newly arrived in Rhy'Din.

"I could probably make a guess," she said, still smiling. "Whatever you do, you throw yourself into it with everything you have. It would never have occurred to you to think you could also do something else while helping our people settle in."

"No, I suppose not," Aran conceded with a faint smile. At present, he had thrown himself into being a father, but now that Alu was no longer a baby, this parenting thing was getting easier. "But how do you feel about it?" he asked, needing to know whether she'd mind him sharing involvement in the theater company with him.

"A'mael, I want to see you happy," Carina reminded him fondly, producing her keys from her bag as they turned down the side street that held their little house. "If this would add to your happiness, then of course I'm right behind it."

"I am happy, melamin," he assured her, frowning faintly. "I did not think I would miss the theater, but watching you on stage, seeing how happy you are, reminds me how much ....fun it was." There was that word again - fun. There was almost no translation for it in his language.

"Then I think you should at least give it a try," his wife told him fondly. "Mataya wouldn't ask you if she didn't think you were more than good enough to be on her stage, you know that."

"How can she know such things?" he asked, though it seemed a ghost would be capable of watching people unseen, hence possibly deducing their thoughts. "I was not sure of myself when I started at the theater, but she never spoke to me," he reasoned.

"I don't know. Maybe she thought you didn't need her, because you had me?" Carina smiled at him, kissing his cheek fondly. "Your uncertainties when we started at the theater didn't really have to do with acting."

"Perhaps not," he conceded with a small shrug, unwilling to dwell on the past, especially now that he'd found his happy ending with Carina. He had changed since those early days in Rhy'Din, gaining confidence and putting trust in his abilities. He smiled at the memory of those early days when the two of them had just met. "You were my first love," he told her, turning to brush his fingertips against her cheek.

"Only were?" she asked with a teasing lilt to her voice, easing close enough to brush the tip of her nose to his. "I haven't regretted being clumsy since the day it threw me into your lap."

"My only love," he was quick to correct himself, smiling softly back at her as her nose brushed his. "It's a good thing I caught you, or I may never have gathered the courage to say hello," he admitted.

"I'll always be glad you did," she promised, lips tenderly touching his in a soft kiss. "My parents and grandparents adore you, you know. You have so much more than just me and Alu to call family now, a'mael."

"And my people adore you, melamin," he told her, though she should already know that by now. It had taken some time for his people to get accustomed to Rhy'Din, but now that they were settled, he had more free time to spend with his own family and friends. "Your family is my family, and my people are your people," he added, touching his forehead to hers.

"Always," she agreed in a whisper, looping her arms about his waist as they lingered together, enjoying the easy embrace. "You know," she added in a thoughtful murmur, "the midwife says that I should be able to conceive again anytime now."

Aran arched a brow at that bit of information. "Are you saying you want another child?" he asked, the faintest hint of a smile on his face, as if he was trying to hide it.

She tilted her head, smiling impishly up at him. "I wouldn't say no," she admitted softly. "I'd like Alu to have what we didn't have - a brother or sister to grow up with."

"I would like that, too, melamin," he told her softly, fingers gently grazing her cheek and wandering into her hair. It might not happen right away, but it would happen. He brushed his lips against hers in a tender kiss, lingering a moment to enjoy the warmth of her lips against his.

She smiled into that kiss, breathing him in as they leaned into each other, always more than content in Aran's arms. If it hadn't been for the whistle of the kettle behind her, she could quite happily have stayed there, too.

"Tea time," she murmured, drawing back.

He drew a soft breath as she pulled away, an almost amused smile on his face. With Alu napping and due to wake any moment, there wasn't much time to indulge in lovemaking, but he'd make it up to her later.

"You might have to take some time off from the theater," he reminded her, though they'd been through this once before.

"But this time I know I can go back, when the time is right," she pointed out warmly, easing from his arms to lift the kettle off the heat and pour the water into the pot to steep. "I would like more children, as many as we may be allowed to have. More than one is a blessing in itself."

He frowned thoughtfully, not because he was worried, but because he simple wasn't sure how many children they'd be physically able to have. His people had been barren before coming to Rhy'Din, and he had only been born because his father had been human.

"How-how many do you think we could have?" he asked curiously. He supposed that depended on their longevity.

"I don't know," Carina admitted, curious herself. "The midwife seems certain that we have only slightly lower odds than a human couple might, and certainly higher than elves. I shouldn't think we would be able to have more than three, though, and even that seems ambitious."

"Each child is a blessing," Aran said, believing that without a doubt. He was half-elf, after all, and for elves, children were a rare blessing. "I will be happy no matter how many we have, even if we only have one," he assured her.

"I know," she promised, "and so will I. But there's no harm in letting nature make that decision for us, right?" She waggled her brows at him with suggestive mischief, laughing as she turned to pour out the tea.

"No, I suppose not," he replied, chuckling in amusement at her teasing. As far as he was concerned, she really was adorable, just like their daughter. Even if she didn't get pregnant, it would be fun trying.

Setting the pot aside, she handed him a cup of tea before lifting her own into her cupped hands. "Whatever you decide to do, we'll make it work," she told him fondly.

"Whatever I decide?" Aran echoed, taking the cup of tea between his hands, but not yet sipping. Whether she was referring to the theater or to the possibility of another child, the decision wasn't just his to make.

"About the theater," she clarified with a smile. "Ultimately, it is your decision whether you choose to take the guest spot or not. But we are more than capable of making that work for us."

"Well, it is only a guest spot," Aran agreed, which meant it was unlikely to be too much of a commitment, and he was sure they'd find a way to work it out, even if they did have another child. He took a sip of his tea, a warm smile on his face at the thought of something else. "She said your voice is getting stronger," he told her, regarding Mataya's remark about Carina's singing.

She bit her lip, blushing at the secondhand compliment. "Well, my top notes aren't as reedy as they used to be," she admitted shyly. "I suppose the more you use your voice, the better supported it is?"

"I wonder how they came to be in Anarven," he said, though it hardly mattered. After all, how had he come to be in Rhy'Din" Had it been his mother who'd sent him here, or had the mirror and the Nexus known this was the best place for him"

"You'd have to ask Luin. She might not even know herself." Setting her tea cup down, Carina moved to wrap her arms about him from behind, kissing the back of his neck affectionately. "It's in the past, a'mael. Luin's just ....edgy ....in the city."

Aran nodded, her embrace drawing him away from his thoughts and back to the world of the present. "The city is much ....different from Anarven," he agreed. Different wasn't quite the word he was looking for, but it would have to do. Comparing the city to Anarven was like comparing day to night.

"It's a very different energy," she agreed. "As much as I enjoy the city, I prefer our quieter pace of life in Anarven. I would much rather our children grew up in total safety there, but learn how to handle themselves on the streets here."

"How to handle themselves on the streets?" he echoed as he glanced her way, his attention momentarily drawn away from the omelet-making. "Do you think they will need to learn how to fight?" he asked, hoping the answer to that question would be no. Then again, it was better they knew how to protect themselves than risked being hurt.

"No, I don't think they will ever need to fight, though they should learn," Carina clarified for him, easing away so she didn't disrupt his cooking. "But there's a certain way of walking that you learn when you grow up in a city, an attitude that most people recognise and won't interfere with you when you're wearing it."

"I'm not sure I know what you mean," he said with a confused expression on his face. He hadn't grown up in a city - at least, not one like Rhy'Din - and though he understood the risks inherent in city life, he wasn't quite sure what she meant by her statement.

"Oh, goodness ....I'm not sure I can describe it." Carina frowned thoughtfully. "It's very straight-backed, walking with purpose, not obviously paying attention to the road or the people around you. You sort of cultivate a field of I don't have time for your nonsense and I will run you down if you get in my way. But it is very subtle. I could probably demonstrate it."

"You mean, walking with confidence" Like ....You know what you're doing and where you're going?" he guessed. He'd never really noticed anything different about the way Carina navigated the city, as opposed to himself or anyone else.

"Something like that, yes," she nodded. "Ideally, you want to hint that if someone tries to give you trouble, you'll give them more than trouble in return. And we both know that, for me, that is an empty threat, but the walk has always worked for me."

"But the city isn't really that dangerous, is it?" he asked uncertainly, as he slid the omelet onto a plate and added a couple slices of toast. He knew there were inherent dangers in every city, but appearing to be human seemed to help them blend.

"No more than any other city, I assume, but it's best to be prepared," Carina said, one shoulder rising and falling in a gentle shrug. "It isn't something our children will have to learn for a good few years yet, anyway."

At least, that much was true, considering the fact that they only had Aluviel right now and she had only recently turned two. "I learned to use a bow when I was eight," Aran told her. A little older for a sword, but not by much.

She smiled at him, sitting down at the table to eat the meal he had prepared for her. "I don't see why we shouldn't continue that tradition," she said. "It's a part of elven heritage, after all."

"What about you?" he asked, refilling her cup of tea and fixing it the way she liked it. In all the time they'd been together, that they'd known each other, they'd never really talked about this or whether they'd teach their own children to fight.

"Me?" She laughed around a mouthful, swallowing quickly. "I know how to stage-fight?" She offered him a slightly rueful grin. "I've never really needed to use a weapon. Adar protected us when we needed protecting, usually with words or magic. I don't think I've ever seen him actually use his staff as a weapon."

"I could teach you," he found himself blurting before realizing it was probably unnecessary. He set the cup of tea down on the table and took a seat across from her, fingers toying with his own tea cup. His past would always cause him to worry about her safety, even if Rhy'Din had never given him cause to.

"Really?" She looked genuinely pleased with such an offer, though he probably hadn't realized she might be. "I would love to learn how to use a bow," she admitted. "It looks like fun."

He chuckled a little. "I'm not sure I would call it fun, but I have heard some call it a sport." He didn't keep himself so isolated in Anarven that he didn't know that. "It is a challenging weapon, but shooting at a target is much different than shooting in battle."

"I doubt I will ever need to shoot in battle," Carina pointed out with another smile. "If it came to that, I would likely be hidden somewhere with our children. I know you well enough to know that."

"I hope you will never need do that, Carina," Aran said, perhaps a little too seriously, but to him, her safety and that of their child was a serious matter. "But I can teach you, if you wish," he repeated, mirroring her smile, his one of warm affection.

"I would like to learn," she agreed, nodding hopefully. "This is delicious, by the way." She was apparently hungry - half the omelet appeared to have been inhaled while they were talking.

He shrugged at her compliment, that smile still on his face. "It's nothing," he said, regarding his cooking. He didn't mind cooking, and omeletes were easy enough. "Should we wait up for you?" he asked, reaching for his cup to take another sip of his tea.

"Put Alu to bed on time," she said. "I'll go in and see her when I come in, anyway. I don't mind if you stay up, though." She knew he would; he worried too much about her walking the short distance from the theater to go to bed before she was safely behind their locked front door.

"Of course, I will," he assured her, with another smile, though she probably knew that already. He always waited up for her, no matter how late she might be. Now that she was nearly done with her meal, he reached for her hand and drew it to his lips for a kiss. "Amin mela lle," he told her softly.