The quiet sanctuary of Anarven had grown over the last year, opening its diverse arms to embrace refugees from an elven culture that was all but dead on its feet. As old fears faded in the face of new friendships, the teething problems of integrating both communities were finally beginning to ease. But that didn't mean that today was not a very special day for all of them, and especially for the elves formerly of Ilyethlin. They had followed their prince into this land, trusted him with their lives, and he had delivered them into a community who understood their fears and wanted to help them. And for the first time in centuries, not counting his own birth, Arandir had delivered something more to them ....the next generation. As the sound of newborn cries echoed throughout the little village at the heart of Anarven, cheers rose from throats that had too often been closed with grief. New home, new baby seemed very apt for them today.
Traditionally minded as both communities were, no one had been able to keep Arandir from Carina's side as she gave birth, and thanks to some uniquely elven traits they shared, she was already on her feet just half an hour after she delivered their baby girl. "Take her to the window, Aran," she suggested with a warm smile. "Let them see her."
Arandir was beaming a grin from ear to ear, his expression as bright as sunshine, eyes bright with happiness and pride. Not only had she borne him a daughter, but that daughter was also a Princess of Ilyethlin. Months ago, they'd agreed that if they were blessed with a daughter, her name would be Aluviel, after his mother, and so, they'd had a daughter, almost as if it was meant to be. Cradled in her father's arms, little Princess Aluviel seemed content enough, at least for the moment.
He mirrored Carina's smile, wanting to share the news of their daughter's birth with the people who loved and cared for them. "Only if you are with me," he told her, waiting for her to join him.
"I'm always with you," she laughed wearily, turning to join him. Her arm wrapped about his back as she peeked over his shoulder, looking down at their newborn daughter. "She's beautiful," she murmured, infinitely delighted not only to have produced a healthy baby, but to have suffered such an easy birth.
"As beautiful as her mother," Aran murmured in agreement, as he, too, admired the tiny miracle in his arms. In truth, she was a miracle, born of a bloodline that was supposed to have become unable to produce children.
"And as mixed as both her parents," Carina pointed out with a gentle smile, stroking her fingertip down their daughter's round cheek. "Perhaps now Luinithlas will stop teasing Hal and let him court her a little. Rhy'Din has obviously rejuvenated your blood; perhaps it has also rejuvenated your people, too."
"Perhaps that is why my mother sent me here," he mused aloud for at least the hundredth time. Perhaps it hadn't been chance at all, but exactly what she'd deemed necessary to save their people, if not herself; and now, they had little Aluviel to show for it. He felt the threat of tears at the thought of that, but for once, they were happy tears.
Carina's smile softened at the sound of tears in his voice, leaning close to kiss the corner of his mouth with tender affection. "Can you hear them out there, a'mael?" she asked him softly. "Our people want to see their new princess."
"I suppose we should present her then," he replied, smiling softly through a thin veil of happy tears. "Amin mela lle, Carina," he told her softly, the words almost musical on his elven tongue.
"Oio naa elealla alasse', a'maelamin," she answered him, each word fond as she kissed him once more. Ever is thy sight a joy, my beloved. Though they had both learned very different dialects in their youth, their time together had brought those dialects together, creating a language that was all their own. "Come to the window while she's calm. I don't doubt they would rather not see her screaming for her supper."
"But then, they would know how healthy she is," Aran pointed out, with a rare hint of teasing in his words. Despite that, he made his way with her to the window, where outside their people - his and hers alike - were waiting to meet the newest arrival.
It was not a gathering of all those in Anarven, but the crowd outside their home was large enough to make roosting birds take flight at the joyful cheer they unleashed at the sight of Arandir and his family at the window. Carina blushed at the shouted compliments, trying not to laugh at the thought of how flattered her womb must be to have so many people declaring it victorious.
Aran knew the news of their daughter's birth would have been passed along to the people by now, as well as her name. He smiled and waved, little Aluviel cradled in one arm, with Carina by his side.
It was difficult not to be caught up in the outpouring of warmth from the gathering below, but after such a long night and day, no one could blame them for not lingering in sight too long. Though her half-elven blood gave her advantages when it came to recovering from the ordeal of labor, Carina still needed time to fully restore her strength from hours spent bringing Aluviel into the light. She sank down into a deep chair with a low sigh of relief. "You have no idea how relieved I am not to be carrying her weight around with me any more."
There would be plenty of time to present their daughter properly in the days to come, but for now, Carina and Aran needed time alone to rest and form a strong bond with their newborn child. "No, I do not," Aran replied with a chuckle, grateful that men did not have to bear the pain of birth.
"And, of course, now you get to carry her around as well," his wife pointed out in amusement. Her fears of being rejected by their people were alleviated by the healthy babe in his arms. Though she missed the theater, and likely always would, for now Carina was content to be wife and mother and homemaker. Perhaps she would even return to teaching.
"She is hardly a burden, melamin," he told her as he swayed back and forth on his feet with the child in his arms. No one had ever taught him to do this; it was merely instinct. As nervous as he'd been about being a father, he had, for once, decided to trust his instincts.
"She was when I was waddling around, desperately wishing to go into labor," she laughed, wrapping her braid about her hand to pull gently on the length. It was an odd little habit of hers, but one she found strangely comforting. "We will have to message Mataya - she wanted to know when Aluviel arrived. No doubt she has plans for something ridiculously generous."
"No doubt," Aran agreed with another grin - or maybe it was the same grin that had been plastered on his face ever since their daughter had made her first appearance in the world. "What do you think she'll do?" he asked curiously, thinking Carina understood how Mataya's mind worked better than he did.
Traditionally minded as both communities were, no one had been able to keep Arandir from Carina's side as she gave birth, and thanks to some uniquely elven traits they shared, she was already on her feet just half an hour after she delivered their baby girl. "Take her to the window, Aran," she suggested with a warm smile. "Let them see her."
Arandir was beaming a grin from ear to ear, his expression as bright as sunshine, eyes bright with happiness and pride. Not only had she borne him a daughter, but that daughter was also a Princess of Ilyethlin. Months ago, they'd agreed that if they were blessed with a daughter, her name would be Aluviel, after his mother, and so, they'd had a daughter, almost as if it was meant to be. Cradled in her father's arms, little Princess Aluviel seemed content enough, at least for the moment.
He mirrored Carina's smile, wanting to share the news of their daughter's birth with the people who loved and cared for them. "Only if you are with me," he told her, waiting for her to join him.
"I'm always with you," she laughed wearily, turning to join him. Her arm wrapped about his back as she peeked over his shoulder, looking down at their newborn daughter. "She's beautiful," she murmured, infinitely delighted not only to have produced a healthy baby, but to have suffered such an easy birth.
"As beautiful as her mother," Aran murmured in agreement, as he, too, admired the tiny miracle in his arms. In truth, she was a miracle, born of a bloodline that was supposed to have become unable to produce children.
"And as mixed as both her parents," Carina pointed out with a gentle smile, stroking her fingertip down their daughter's round cheek. "Perhaps now Luinithlas will stop teasing Hal and let him court her a little. Rhy'Din has obviously rejuvenated your blood; perhaps it has also rejuvenated your people, too."
"Perhaps that is why my mother sent me here," he mused aloud for at least the hundredth time. Perhaps it hadn't been chance at all, but exactly what she'd deemed necessary to save their people, if not herself; and now, they had little Aluviel to show for it. He felt the threat of tears at the thought of that, but for once, they were happy tears.
Carina's smile softened at the sound of tears in his voice, leaning close to kiss the corner of his mouth with tender affection. "Can you hear them out there, a'mael?" she asked him softly. "Our people want to see their new princess."
"I suppose we should present her then," he replied, smiling softly through a thin veil of happy tears. "Amin mela lle, Carina," he told her softly, the words almost musical on his elven tongue.
"Oio naa elealla alasse', a'maelamin," she answered him, each word fond as she kissed him once more. Ever is thy sight a joy, my beloved. Though they had both learned very different dialects in their youth, their time together had brought those dialects together, creating a language that was all their own. "Come to the window while she's calm. I don't doubt they would rather not see her screaming for her supper."
"But then, they would know how healthy she is," Aran pointed out, with a rare hint of teasing in his words. Despite that, he made his way with her to the window, where outside their people - his and hers alike - were waiting to meet the newest arrival.
It was not a gathering of all those in Anarven, but the crowd outside their home was large enough to make roosting birds take flight at the joyful cheer they unleashed at the sight of Arandir and his family at the window. Carina blushed at the shouted compliments, trying not to laugh at the thought of how flattered her womb must be to have so many people declaring it victorious.
Aran knew the news of their daughter's birth would have been passed along to the people by now, as well as her name. He smiled and waved, little Aluviel cradled in one arm, with Carina by his side.
It was difficult not to be caught up in the outpouring of warmth from the gathering below, but after such a long night and day, no one could blame them for not lingering in sight too long. Though her half-elven blood gave her advantages when it came to recovering from the ordeal of labor, Carina still needed time to fully restore her strength from hours spent bringing Aluviel into the light. She sank down into a deep chair with a low sigh of relief. "You have no idea how relieved I am not to be carrying her weight around with me any more."
There would be plenty of time to present their daughter properly in the days to come, but for now, Carina and Aran needed time alone to rest and form a strong bond with their newborn child. "No, I do not," Aran replied with a chuckle, grateful that men did not have to bear the pain of birth.
"And, of course, now you get to carry her around as well," his wife pointed out in amusement. Her fears of being rejected by their people were alleviated by the healthy babe in his arms. Though she missed the theater, and likely always would, for now Carina was content to be wife and mother and homemaker. Perhaps she would even return to teaching.
"She is hardly a burden, melamin," he told her as he swayed back and forth on his feet with the child in his arms. No one had ever taught him to do this; it was merely instinct. As nervous as he'd been about being a father, he had, for once, decided to trust his instincts.
"She was when I was waddling around, desperately wishing to go into labor," she laughed, wrapping her braid about her hand to pull gently on the length. It was an odd little habit of hers, but one she found strangely comforting. "We will have to message Mataya - she wanted to know when Aluviel arrived. No doubt she has plans for something ridiculously generous."
"No doubt," Aran agreed with another grin - or maybe it was the same grin that had been plastered on his face ever since their daughter had made her first appearance in the world. "What do you think she'll do?" he asked curiously, thinking Carina understood how Mataya's mind worked better than he did.