Ewan reached for Storm's elbow to guide and protect her from the merriment of a gang of young men intent on sampling some of the ales offered in the market. When his hand touched her sleeve, he pulled a bit at it. When it stretched in his hand, his lips drew a firm line. "I thought this cloth seemed odd," he muttered. He looked around to make sure no one was paying attention before whispering, "Of what is it made?"

There was no little amount of amusement that Storm felt when he gently guided her away from the crowd. She was however, also grateful, so that was the smile that she sent him. The news of his judging event being soon made her smile; she would aim to wait it out and stay to watch before excusing herself to rest.

Leaning in close to catch his whisper, she chuckled and whispered in return, "I am not sure, Lydia was the one who made it." Motioning to the shirt that started a deep red and blended towards an orange on the top. "I had no desire other than to not appear like a walking piece of fruit. Do you like it?"

Ewan recognized the danger in the answer to that question immediately. More so, if he hesitated even too long in that answering, no matter what he said would be thought of as insincere. He surveyed the shirt as if he were taking his first real look at it, and then spoke truthfully. "I think it flatters you well, but I must admit I hope it does not draw too much attention. We have nothing of its making here." With that he gave a broader smile, kissed her soft and nodded. "You look lovely. Now, let me see if we can find you and mother a seat to view the games." He looked around and saw Gaerwyn wave them over, pointing downward. While the seats were not to be seen, the communication was clear. "Mother, Storm, it seems Gaerwyn has seen to our needs. Let me take you to your seats before I go to judge the events."

Storm squinted her eyes slightly as she watched him decide whether or not that he liked it. Finding his words to be truth, she returned the kiss in kind, muttering against his lips, "It is not going to matter what I wear, beloved." Catching sight of Gaerwyn, the fact that she was going to be able to sit down made her give a fractionally larger smile, before rolling her shoulders again, "Can I still cheer for you, though you are not playing?" A faint teasing light to her eyes as they started for Gaerwyn.

Ewan laugh low and brief. "If you feel you must, but I think it might be considered odd." When they arrived at the seats, and he saw both his mother and wife situated comfortably. He gave them over to the care of his cousin and the baroness, bowed to Her Excellency, and then went to see to the judging.

Maeve leaned over and smiled. "Feels good to sit down, doesn't it?" She reached to pat an arthritic bent hand to pat on Storm's arm, light though warm. Her legs were getting tired. So the seating, though little more than a wooden plank on legs with a cushion, was just enough.

Storm gave her husband a wink, just before she was settled into her seat. It did feel good to sit down again, and it just might do the trick to help ease the coming and going pains of her back. "Very much so." The warm and affectionate smile for Maeve came naturally, her hand resting over hers to give it a gentle rub. Leaning over, she lowered her voice, "I am hoping that it will do just the trick for my back. It has been hurting me a bit today."

Maeve's brows rose. It was rather uncanny in its similarity to her son's own way of expressing curiosity. "Is that so?"

Ewan did not hesitate, question, or retort Lyana's gleeful remarks, but made straight off the field to where his cousin was waiting. "Where is she?"

"Her Excellency's carriage is taking Storm, your mother, and the baroness back to Seansloe manor. Miriam is there, and with the three of them, there is nothing they cannot handle, I should think, so not a worry."

But Ewan was worried. Sylvia was there, though, and at least she had some knowledge of different people, magical people. Speed was to his steps and he trotted in a ground eating lope back to the manor to see to his wife, leaving his son to the care of Gaerwyn and Lenika.

Maeve was smiling as bright as the sun was above, arching its way to the western horizon. Glancing out the window a moment, "Ah, it looks like we're heading for the manor. Oh, that is good. Easier to get what we need there, I should say. Yes, well, that will be good. Very good." A smile back to Storm, "Come dear, grab the cane when the pain comes. I'd offer a hand, but I fear me, they wouldn't do you much good."

Storm was steadying her breath as she too looked out the window. She laughed lightly at Maeve's suggestion, "No, I would not wish to bring harm to your hands." Doing as she was told, she held on to the cane, gripping it during the painful moments. She thought on all the careful preparations in her own realm, and how quickly they would not be necessary. It brought another smile as she looked to Maeve again, "Well, this was not expected." Grasping for some humor, she added on a softer voice, "But I would not change it for a thing."

"Oh my," Maeve gave a wheezy sort of laugh, mostly air and little sound, but delighted for all that, "you had better get used to it now. Things are never expected with them, starting with the birth. Ewan was so unusually quiet they'd thought I'd had another still birth, but then there he up and gave a hollar and started a kicking and fighting when the midwife gave his bottom a smack." Another chuckle tagged by a sigh. "No, they never quite do what you expect. And you're doing just fine it seems -- remembering to breathe is a good part of it."

Now Storm was laughing on the end of a contraction, "Yes, even Avery catches me off guard still." Taking the time to steady her breath again, her smile turned soft, "I was told I was not rather quiet at all. I will hope the babe will take after Ewan with that sense, then." Her thoughts turned to her husband then, rather sure that someone would have fetched him already. Just thinking about him being at her side now was mixing into her anxiety.

The carriage was making a brisk but not wild pace up the road and turned in the courtyard to place the carriage door closest to the entry. Maeve turned to open the door and was flustered a moment by the winging of fabric as she caught, or believed she did, sight of Sylvia leaping down from the driver's seat. It was certain that one moment the lady wasn't there and then she was, calling out orders like a captain of an army, which, upon Maeve's odd momentary reflection, she had almost been so the rumors say.

A guard hurried up to the carriage door to help Maeve and then with absolute care, Storm. "Come now, my lady, Storm. We lads here will see you up to your room. Won't be havin' Master Corinsson's babe out in the yard, will we now?" He was an older man, past the prime years of riding out and now set to having his skill used in the protection of the keep. Strong he was, though, and sure.

Ewan's thoughts were focused like the point of a knife: to get to his wife and assure her safety to the ends of his abilities. It kept his legs moving and his lungs full of breath to reach the manor and be there with her.

Storm watched Sylvia take charge upon the situation with only a passing glance. Most of her attention was given to keeping her breathing steady, which was a more troublesome task by the moment. Releasing Maeve's cane so that she could use it, Storm curled her fist instead.

When the guard offered his careful assistance, she couldn't help another strained laugh at the irony of her baby being born alongside the earth, "No, we cannot have that."

"That's right then, lass. Come on then." He gave a nod and moved to set her hand upon the leather bracer of his forearm. "Now these here have saved my arms more than once from a wayward blow, so you just go ahead and squeeze when ya need to, 'right?"

Maeve was toddling along as fast as her aching bones would take her, and Sylvia came to her aide just as they started arriving at the inner stairwell.

Under normal circumstances, Storm would have felt some sense of reserve for squeezing and potentially harming another man's arm. However, her politeness was set aside and she did just as he told her to, squeezing his arm with little reserve at all as he helped her towards her room.

Once the door was shut Storm released a soft sigh. The past few hours clouded her memory, the only reminder of the present being the light weight held in her arms. She looked down then, seeing her son's blue eyes staring back up at her. She shifted him in her arms, a permanent, beaming smile on her face as she looked over to Ewan. "Come sit with us, Dad?" Some of her drying hair fell over her face as she moved their son to one arm to try and scoot over.

He came to the side of the bed, a light hand to her arm to keep her from moving. "I have room enough, beloved." The hand moved to caress her hair, pushing it back from her brow. He leaned over and placed a kiss to her forehead, a soft, long press of his lips. "Beautifully done."

Color returned to her cheeks, her love overflowing for her husband at his affectionate gesture. It did however, invoke memories of just the more painful moments she experienced. "I believe I deserve more." She lifted her chin then to show that she required a proper kiss. Once he met her, the smile returned and she carefully offered the bundled baby to him, "Would you like to hold him?"

He showed now hesitation or fear, but smiled with a nod and claimed the newborn in well prepared arms. "Hello there, my lad. You had a bit of urgency in your arriving, did you not?" He chuckled and kissed the baby's forehead. "Fine light hair you have, like a sheen of gold thread. You take after your mother, I see. Well done." He gave his wife a wink.

"Is this in his urgency or his hair?" She leaned against him slightly, exhaustion currently replaced by adrenaline. She watched the blue eyes fixate on Ewan now, and kissed Ewan's shoulder, "He looks like a Kellan, does he not? Our Kellan?"

When she neared, he kissed the top of her brass curled head, not able to share enough in words the depth of his love for her and could only do so in the attention of kisses placed. "Aye, that he does. Our Kellan." He looked back to the baby. "You will have to be waiting until morning to meet your brother. He is gone off to sleeping that one. Oh what a wide strange world you have come to, my boy, but your mother and I will be here for you."

With her smile softening, Storm sniffled as she looked up to Ewan's face. Looking back down to the baby, the back of her finger slid over the soft skin of his cheek to watch Kellan's mouth open slightly in response. "Is it that late?" In reference to Avery's slumber, Storm had lost any other sense of time.

"Just the time of it, and even with the excitement, I thought it best for him to keep to his routine lest he be all out of sorts tomorrow." Ewan offered Kellan back to his mother. "And speaking of being in or out of sorts, it may be best to let the lad have his feeding so you can be getting some sleep yourself, beloved. There will be little enough of it for a time at least."

She mirrored tentative movements in putting baby back in her arms, perhaps too attentive to his head, "It is for the best. How you were able to think about that during all this is amazement within itself." Making sure that Kellan was properly situated, she looked back to Ewan, "You will be staying with us, yes?"

"That I will." He moved to lay up next to her, his arm about her shoulder in affectionate support. "I will tend to him when he is done, so you might rest." Seeing her well, though understandably tired, had set him at ease more than anything. It was a certainty in his soul that all would be well.