21st December, 1616
The north wind did blow, and Pasai had snow, and what could Elan do but wait, poor thing" Yet not so poor as all that, for the duchy of Elan was blessed in a strong duke and a playful duchess, and would be doubly blessed at this Yuletide, for the much-hoped-for child of their noble house was even now being born. Leandro had been banished from the upper floor of the house, left to wander while his wife labored under Mamita's watchful eye, and was, eventually, invited by the servants to join their Yuletide celebration as they drank to his health and the hope of a son.
Son or daughter, it mattered very little to Leandro, so long as the child was healthy, and his wife, the duchess, survived the birth and did not suffer too greatly. A birth should be cause for celebration, but until he knew the fate of his wife and child, he could not help but worry. His cup was literally overflowing with drink, as well-wishers made sure his cup never emptied, the drink helping relax him a little, despite his worries.
He, too, was under a watchful eye; his steward, Carlos, never far from his duke's side, was making sure that every other drink that entered his lord's hand was weaker than water. He did not think Leandro would be pleased to miss meeting his firstborn through too much carousing.
"Joyous Yule to you, your grace!" a voice called from nearby, and another took up the theme. "Blessings on you, lordship, and the ladyship who labors!"
As these voices were taken up, tankards and goblets rose into the air to toast the duke and his family, even as a young lad caught Carlos' arm to whisper feverishly into the man's ear.
So many times had Leandro heard this same toast taken up in his name and that of his duchess this day that he only raised his own glass in salute before downing the watered-down wine with a slight wince at the watered-down taste. "Carlos, have you been diluting the wine?" his lord asked, swaying just a little on his feet, as the boy whispered in his steward's ear. "If there is news of my wife and child, I would hear it," he told the boy with narrowed eyes.
"And you shall," Carlos assured his duke in amusement, knowing Leandro wouldn't be scowling at the child if he was sober. Sending the lad off, he moved to Leandro's side to share what he had been told. "Tis indeed a blessed Yule, your grace. You have a son."
"A son," Leandro echoed. By the look of the grin on his face, he looked proud and well pleased. "Another round for everyone!" he called, raising his glass in yet another toast. "I have a son!" he called, letting the servants gathered know the news before he'd even had a chance to share it with the nobles. "And my wife," he said, after he'd swallowed another gulp of wine. "Is she well?"
A roar of celebration went up all around him, congratulations and thanks to the Goddess mingled in the outpouring of joy at his news. By morning, the news would have traveled to the town below, and from there, it would be on the lips of every traveler and merchant sheltering there from the current storm, to be carried to the four corners of the land.
Carlos chuckled at his duke's exuberant display. "Indeed, she is very well, says Mamita," he assured the younger man. "Already washed and drunk of broth to recover her strength, and threatening to come looking for you soon if you do not go to her."
"I suppose I should not keep her waiting then," Leandro admitted, draining his wine before handing the glass to Carlos. He swayed just a little, a silly grin on his face before taking the man's shoulders and kissing him once on each cheek. "I have a son," he repeated, as if trying to make himself believe it.
Laughing at Leandro's cheery disposition, Carlos discreetly put a hand against the wall to keep them both upright as he was soundly kissed on each cheek. "You have a son," he confirmed for his lord. "And drunk enough to drown him ten times over this eve, if I'm any judge. If you think you can stay upright, go to her."
"I have never been drunk in my life," Leandro countered, pushing off the wall, as well, to steer himself in the right direction. "Be careful, or we will name him after you, mi amigo," he warned, waggling a finger at his steward before steadying himself with a hand against the wall. So, maybe he was a little drunk, but with any luck, Adelina wouldn't notice.
"The poor child does not deserve that," Carlos laughed, edging sideways to aim his duke toward the stairs, and up to his wife's birthing chamber. Behind them, the celebrations erupted with more vigor now their lord was not there to see them, and there was no doubt that the new lordling would be blessed a hundred times over before the celebration blew itself out. "If you do not hurry, Mamita will name him herself."
"Then I will rename him!" Leandro declared as he half-stumbled toward the stairs and started up them, doing his best to compose himself the closer he got to the birthing chamber. Fortunately, he was not so drunk that he'd stumble stupidly into that chamber without properly announcing his presence, even if he was the lord and master here.
Stumping along easily with his crutch in Leandro's mildly drunken wake, Carlos grinned to himself, looking forward to Mamita's reaction to the inebriated father. He didn't have to wait long - Mamita was waiting for them in the doorway to the ducal apartments, her hands on her hips as she raised a brow in her duke's direction.
She looked Leandro over pointedly. "You should have sobered up," she informed him in disapproval.
"Happy Yule to you, too, Mamita," Leandro replied, taking her face in his hands and planting a kiss on her lips. He tasted of wine, but he was not so inebriated that he was falling down drunk. "I would see my wife and son, if I may," he added, though he didn't really need to ask permission.
The housekeeper grimaced as he kissed her, waving him away with fond dismay. "If you drop him, I will take a switch to your backside in front of your little duchess," she informed her duke, reluctantly stepping aside. "In the duchess' bedchamber - she did not want to soil your bed with childbirth."
"I shall keep that in mind, mistress," he replied, sweeping her a courtly, if awkward bow, before turning and almost stumbling into the wall before his hand found the door. He knocked twice to announce his presence before pushing it open to take a peek inside. "Lady wife, may I come in" I am only a little bit drunk."
Despite her long day's labors, Adelina had made some effort with her appearance, her nightgown soft green, her robe rich red velvet to reflect the colors of the season in which she had finally given birth. She was sitting at the end of the bed, contrary to Mamita's instructions, her golden hair loose over her shoulders, looking down into the little cradle that bore their son. Looking up at the knock, she laughed at Leandro's request. "Who am I to deny you, querido?" she said, lifting a hand to beckon him closer. "Come and meet your son."
The north wind did blow, and Pasai had snow, and what could Elan do but wait, poor thing" Yet not so poor as all that, for the duchy of Elan was blessed in a strong duke and a playful duchess, and would be doubly blessed at this Yuletide, for the much-hoped-for child of their noble house was even now being born. Leandro had been banished from the upper floor of the house, left to wander while his wife labored under Mamita's watchful eye, and was, eventually, invited by the servants to join their Yuletide celebration as they drank to his health and the hope of a son.
Son or daughter, it mattered very little to Leandro, so long as the child was healthy, and his wife, the duchess, survived the birth and did not suffer too greatly. A birth should be cause for celebration, but until he knew the fate of his wife and child, he could not help but worry. His cup was literally overflowing with drink, as well-wishers made sure his cup never emptied, the drink helping relax him a little, despite his worries.
He, too, was under a watchful eye; his steward, Carlos, never far from his duke's side, was making sure that every other drink that entered his lord's hand was weaker than water. He did not think Leandro would be pleased to miss meeting his firstborn through too much carousing.
"Joyous Yule to you, your grace!" a voice called from nearby, and another took up the theme. "Blessings on you, lordship, and the ladyship who labors!"
As these voices were taken up, tankards and goblets rose into the air to toast the duke and his family, even as a young lad caught Carlos' arm to whisper feverishly into the man's ear.
So many times had Leandro heard this same toast taken up in his name and that of his duchess this day that he only raised his own glass in salute before downing the watered-down wine with a slight wince at the watered-down taste. "Carlos, have you been diluting the wine?" his lord asked, swaying just a little on his feet, as the boy whispered in his steward's ear. "If there is news of my wife and child, I would hear it," he told the boy with narrowed eyes.
"And you shall," Carlos assured his duke in amusement, knowing Leandro wouldn't be scowling at the child if he was sober. Sending the lad off, he moved to Leandro's side to share what he had been told. "Tis indeed a blessed Yule, your grace. You have a son."
"A son," Leandro echoed. By the look of the grin on his face, he looked proud and well pleased. "Another round for everyone!" he called, raising his glass in yet another toast. "I have a son!" he called, letting the servants gathered know the news before he'd even had a chance to share it with the nobles. "And my wife," he said, after he'd swallowed another gulp of wine. "Is she well?"
A roar of celebration went up all around him, congratulations and thanks to the Goddess mingled in the outpouring of joy at his news. By morning, the news would have traveled to the town below, and from there, it would be on the lips of every traveler and merchant sheltering there from the current storm, to be carried to the four corners of the land.
Carlos chuckled at his duke's exuberant display. "Indeed, she is very well, says Mamita," he assured the younger man. "Already washed and drunk of broth to recover her strength, and threatening to come looking for you soon if you do not go to her."
"I suppose I should not keep her waiting then," Leandro admitted, draining his wine before handing the glass to Carlos. He swayed just a little, a silly grin on his face before taking the man's shoulders and kissing him once on each cheek. "I have a son," he repeated, as if trying to make himself believe it.
Laughing at Leandro's cheery disposition, Carlos discreetly put a hand against the wall to keep them both upright as he was soundly kissed on each cheek. "You have a son," he confirmed for his lord. "And drunk enough to drown him ten times over this eve, if I'm any judge. If you think you can stay upright, go to her."
"I have never been drunk in my life," Leandro countered, pushing off the wall, as well, to steer himself in the right direction. "Be careful, or we will name him after you, mi amigo," he warned, waggling a finger at his steward before steadying himself with a hand against the wall. So, maybe he was a little drunk, but with any luck, Adelina wouldn't notice.
"The poor child does not deserve that," Carlos laughed, edging sideways to aim his duke toward the stairs, and up to his wife's birthing chamber. Behind them, the celebrations erupted with more vigor now their lord was not there to see them, and there was no doubt that the new lordling would be blessed a hundred times over before the celebration blew itself out. "If you do not hurry, Mamita will name him herself."
"Then I will rename him!" Leandro declared as he half-stumbled toward the stairs and started up them, doing his best to compose himself the closer he got to the birthing chamber. Fortunately, he was not so drunk that he'd stumble stupidly into that chamber without properly announcing his presence, even if he was the lord and master here.
Stumping along easily with his crutch in Leandro's mildly drunken wake, Carlos grinned to himself, looking forward to Mamita's reaction to the inebriated father. He didn't have to wait long - Mamita was waiting for them in the doorway to the ducal apartments, her hands on her hips as she raised a brow in her duke's direction.
She looked Leandro over pointedly. "You should have sobered up," she informed him in disapproval.
"Happy Yule to you, too, Mamita," Leandro replied, taking her face in his hands and planting a kiss on her lips. He tasted of wine, but he was not so inebriated that he was falling down drunk. "I would see my wife and son, if I may," he added, though he didn't really need to ask permission.
The housekeeper grimaced as he kissed her, waving him away with fond dismay. "If you drop him, I will take a switch to your backside in front of your little duchess," she informed her duke, reluctantly stepping aside. "In the duchess' bedchamber - she did not want to soil your bed with childbirth."
"I shall keep that in mind, mistress," he replied, sweeping her a courtly, if awkward bow, before turning and almost stumbling into the wall before his hand found the door. He knocked twice to announce his presence before pushing it open to take a peek inside. "Lady wife, may I come in" I am only a little bit drunk."
Despite her long day's labors, Adelina had made some effort with her appearance, her nightgown soft green, her robe rich red velvet to reflect the colors of the season in which she had finally given birth. She was sitting at the end of the bed, contrary to Mamita's instructions, her golden hair loose over her shoulders, looking down into the little cradle that bore their son. Looking up at the knock, she laughed at Leandro's request. "Who am I to deny you, querido?" she said, lifting a hand to beckon him closer. "Come and meet your son."