As the shelter of the trees put distance between them and the crowd in the Southern Glen, Hudson looked over at Sylvia again, with a question in his gaze; Aidan seemed half-asleep on his feet, dragging them and walking almost as slowly as Hudson.
Sylvia looked over at the pair, one not much better off than the other. The lights of the city could be seen, but they only showed that it was some ways to go. Shifting Beata to one side, she moved to gather up Aidan on the other hip. "Cian, walk with Master Hudson, please." Aidan's head plunked down to her shoulder. Beata was curled up, and Cian was too tired to question, but when to take up Aidan's place.
This activity did not increase the speed, but at least she did not have to worry about Aidan dragging Hudson down with him and dislocating another knee.
At the trade of Cian's hand for Aidan's, Hudson looked over to Sylvia again, with a slight frown that she carried both children - not disapproval, but disappointment that his injury kept him from aiding her. "Ye be strong, leannan." And something in his voice referred not only to physical strength at that comment. "What were ye starting tae ask, before?"
She smiled and looked over to him. "They aren't so heavy, though, Aidan certainly is getting that way." There was a hint of being flattered at what she felt he also might have meant, but when he prompted again for the question she asked, the sigh broke free in a hesitant catch. "I just wanted to know if you would need me tonight. I could not think of a way to say it, and... I just mean if you need my company while the hardships of the day are so near. Sometimes," she paused, how well she knew this next truth, "sometimes an empty room can make things so...hard to face."
Looking ahead to the lights of the city, he answered quietly while Cian's hand swung loosely in his own. "Aye, ye be right in that. Th' company o' ye and th' children - oh, ye ha'e nae idea, leannan, how I needed tae see ye all taenight." He paused then, in the road, and leaned for a moment more heavily on the cane before resuming the slow pace. When he resumed speaking, his voice was low. "Would ye stay wi' me then, through th' dark o' th' night? For if ye'd ha'e th' strength o' that, I'd be grateful indeed. I dinnae ken how well I'd face it alone."
There was not pause in her step, no hesitation in her voice though it fell soft as starlight. "I will stay." She shifted Aidan some who was sliding down her side. A glance over the soft, black curls of her daughter's sleeping head to look at Hudson. The soft light of a moon just less than full caught the spartan hints of silver in his hair, as if they were uncertain in their own presence in the dark neighboring hair. "What would be best? Your home?" She wondered where the children would sleep or if she should take them all the way to Yearling Brook and then come back on her own.
"If I'm tae sleep easy there again - if ye dinnae mind. Th' bairns would fit well enow on th' bed. But if ye'd tae ha'e them home, I'll gang wi' ye tae Yearling Brook." Trailing just a bit behind her as he was, he watched her, seeing the moonlight wash out colors to leave everything in shades of black, gray and silver; the planes of her face seemed sharp-cut in the light. "Or if ye think 'twould cause tae much comment, I'll wait on ye. 'Tis ye who does th' favor for me, leannan."
"No," she said swiftly, "if you think there is room for the children to sleep well, that was my only concern. Where will you sleep?" She was perplexed. Of course, not knowing what furniture he had in the house, and he had said there were changes, perhaps he had a guest bed that would suit the children outside of his own. "We must make sure you get proper rest, too, or that leg will never get better." With that mention, she checked on him again to be sure not only that he was still walking well, but that Cian was not becoming a threat to their safety.
It gave her some comfort to see the streets and walls of the city coming close. It was not too much further now. "I will send the carriage on to Yearling Brook with a message so there is no worry." It was a prudent explanation.
"Th' other half o' that be where will ye? Th' guest room will dae for ye, and th' couch Sianna talked me intae purchasing will dae well enow for me, as it has been. Th' stairs be beyond my wish tae tackle, some nights. But aye, 'tis most likely wise tae send ahead th' message afore yer guards start tae fraitching." Cian's feet were dragging, and Hudson gave the boy's hand a light squeeze. Under other circumstances, he would simply have picked the lad up. It was a frustration. His own pace was unchanged, but tight lines were forming around his eyes, betraying growing pain at that. Still he pushed, because to slow would only draw out the ache for longer. He felt a sharp bit of relief that his home was so close to the southern gate of the city - and if Sylvia had used the livery he suspected she had, it was on the way.
"The couch?" She was careful not to raise her voice too sharply to decry that situation. "Great blazing pyres, Hudson, we could have seen that a bed moved downstairs for you." She noticed the pain ghosting at the corners of his eyes. "Maybe you should wait here with the children, and I will go ahead to get the carriage. Only," as they reached the walls. It was not far now, "well, it is not far, can you make it?" She shifted both children again. They were getting heavy now with the walk, her shoulders aching, and her body was starting to sweat with the extra heat the children were pouring into her.
Her disapproval of the couch situation was enough to quirk a small smile to the corners of his mouth. "Well, 'tis a verra comfortable couch, ye ken. Aye, I'll dae well enow tae make it, and there be sommat cool tae drink when we arrive." He could hardly miss the strain she was under with carrying the children, and again frustration bit sharply. He didn't let it show as he paused by a livery and leant heavily on his cane. "And be this th' place ye left yer carriage?" Cian, walking automatically, stumbled on another two steps before he realized they had paused and leaned back against Hudson's good leg.
Sylvia looked over at the pair, one not much better off than the other. The lights of the city could be seen, but they only showed that it was some ways to go. Shifting Beata to one side, she moved to gather up Aidan on the other hip. "Cian, walk with Master Hudson, please." Aidan's head plunked down to her shoulder. Beata was curled up, and Cian was too tired to question, but when to take up Aidan's place.
This activity did not increase the speed, but at least she did not have to worry about Aidan dragging Hudson down with him and dislocating another knee.
At the trade of Cian's hand for Aidan's, Hudson looked over to Sylvia again, with a slight frown that she carried both children - not disapproval, but disappointment that his injury kept him from aiding her. "Ye be strong, leannan." And something in his voice referred not only to physical strength at that comment. "What were ye starting tae ask, before?"
She smiled and looked over to him. "They aren't so heavy, though, Aidan certainly is getting that way." There was a hint of being flattered at what she felt he also might have meant, but when he prompted again for the question she asked, the sigh broke free in a hesitant catch. "I just wanted to know if you would need me tonight. I could not think of a way to say it, and... I just mean if you need my company while the hardships of the day are so near. Sometimes," she paused, how well she knew this next truth, "sometimes an empty room can make things so...hard to face."
Looking ahead to the lights of the city, he answered quietly while Cian's hand swung loosely in his own. "Aye, ye be right in that. Th' company o' ye and th' children - oh, ye ha'e nae idea, leannan, how I needed tae see ye all taenight." He paused then, in the road, and leaned for a moment more heavily on the cane before resuming the slow pace. When he resumed speaking, his voice was low. "Would ye stay wi' me then, through th' dark o' th' night? For if ye'd ha'e th' strength o' that, I'd be grateful indeed. I dinnae ken how well I'd face it alone."
There was not pause in her step, no hesitation in her voice though it fell soft as starlight. "I will stay." She shifted Aidan some who was sliding down her side. A glance over the soft, black curls of her daughter's sleeping head to look at Hudson. The soft light of a moon just less than full caught the spartan hints of silver in his hair, as if they were uncertain in their own presence in the dark neighboring hair. "What would be best? Your home?" She wondered where the children would sleep or if she should take them all the way to Yearling Brook and then come back on her own.
"If I'm tae sleep easy there again - if ye dinnae mind. Th' bairns would fit well enow on th' bed. But if ye'd tae ha'e them home, I'll gang wi' ye tae Yearling Brook." Trailing just a bit behind her as he was, he watched her, seeing the moonlight wash out colors to leave everything in shades of black, gray and silver; the planes of her face seemed sharp-cut in the light. "Or if ye think 'twould cause tae much comment, I'll wait on ye. 'Tis ye who does th' favor for me, leannan."
"No," she said swiftly, "if you think there is room for the children to sleep well, that was my only concern. Where will you sleep?" She was perplexed. Of course, not knowing what furniture he had in the house, and he had said there were changes, perhaps he had a guest bed that would suit the children outside of his own. "We must make sure you get proper rest, too, or that leg will never get better." With that mention, she checked on him again to be sure not only that he was still walking well, but that Cian was not becoming a threat to their safety.
It gave her some comfort to see the streets and walls of the city coming close. It was not too much further now. "I will send the carriage on to Yearling Brook with a message so there is no worry." It was a prudent explanation.
"Th' other half o' that be where will ye? Th' guest room will dae for ye, and th' couch Sianna talked me intae purchasing will dae well enow for me, as it has been. Th' stairs be beyond my wish tae tackle, some nights. But aye, 'tis most likely wise tae send ahead th' message afore yer guards start tae fraitching." Cian's feet were dragging, and Hudson gave the boy's hand a light squeeze. Under other circumstances, he would simply have picked the lad up. It was a frustration. His own pace was unchanged, but tight lines were forming around his eyes, betraying growing pain at that. Still he pushed, because to slow would only draw out the ache for longer. He felt a sharp bit of relief that his home was so close to the southern gate of the city - and if Sylvia had used the livery he suspected she had, it was on the way.
"The couch?" She was careful not to raise her voice too sharply to decry that situation. "Great blazing pyres, Hudson, we could have seen that a bed moved downstairs for you." She noticed the pain ghosting at the corners of his eyes. "Maybe you should wait here with the children, and I will go ahead to get the carriage. Only," as they reached the walls. It was not far now, "well, it is not far, can you make it?" She shifted both children again. They were getting heavy now with the walk, her shoulders aching, and her body was starting to sweat with the extra heat the children were pouring into her.
Her disapproval of the couch situation was enough to quirk a small smile to the corners of his mouth. "Well, 'tis a verra comfortable couch, ye ken. Aye, I'll dae well enow tae make it, and there be sommat cool tae drink when we arrive." He could hardly miss the strain she was under with carrying the children, and again frustration bit sharply. He didn't let it show as he paused by a livery and leant heavily on his cane. "And be this th' place ye left yer carriage?" Cian, walking automatically, stumbled on another two steps before he realized they had paused and leaned back against Hudson's good leg.