Home [Eitan]

[Stefan Dornkirk]

11th Glade, 122

Stefan stepped from the room that had become the office of the second-highest official in Zaichaer's government, finding himself back in his childhood home. The effect was as jarring as ever, what he imagined walking through a magical portal must feel like. As though the two places could not be connected by only a single step as they were.

Covering his discomfort was becoming so routine as to happen without his realizing it. He had always done it, or tried to, but he had never been as good at it as was expected of him. People could tell when he was displeased, something which had added to his stand-offish reputation in society as an adult.

Now, however, he pushed aside any expressions of what he was feeling as though they might burn him. Because they might.

Walking down the hall he made his way back to the set of rooms he had taken back residence in after the return from the equally disastrous and triumphant trip to Kalzasi. The lab and office provided him all the work space he needed, the bed, bathroom and sitting area provided him all he needed to survive when not working. He'd only left when meeting with his new officials, of which there were many, or when Brenner needed his input on something.

The site of the rooms made him slightly ill now, whenever he saw them, which was sad considering how he'd loved them all his life. It felt like a prison, however comfortable, and represented the shredding of the life of peace and comfort he had built with his wife, and brother and sister-in-law. He had to close his eyes tightly and push thoughts of Delia away hard, else he might break down and go home.

He wasn't sure how much longer Brenner would require Eitan's attendance; surely they had military things to discuss, nor was he sure if he wanted his newer brother to follow him when the business came to a close or not. A part of him assuredly did, was practically howling for the reassurance of Eitan's presence, but another part dreaded it.

Brenner had been changing, slowly, for years but the changes had taken hold now that there was an outlet for them. Stefan would always worship his brother, always follow his lead, but there was a distance between them now that was slowly forcing them apart. It hurt, like having his limbs pulled off a hair's width at a time. The pain was becoming normal, as was the exhaustion and constant, echoing fear.

He was strong, he was a Dornkirk, his whole life had, in a very real way, been a preparation for enduring this circumstance. Stefan would be fine. So long as his family was safe, and his work ensured that.

Hesitating a moment at the door he left it open and went to sit at his desk, where he could be seen from it and started through the endless pile of papers he must read.

[Eitan Angevin]

There came a knock at the door, but Eitan only waited a breath before letting himself in. His return to Zaichaer had been strange to say the lease, and Dornkirk Manor had changed in his absence as well. Brenner was First Minister, Albrecht was his aide, and Stefan had moved back to protect Delia.

"I hope you're decent, Minister," he joshed from the door, finding Stefan and walking toward him with a wide grin, though now he didn't hide how tired he was. Even though he and the crew had been forced to hurry up and wait for some time, he had hit the ground running once he was allowed to debark, and while he had a steel will, nerves could still take their toll.

"Oughtn't Dienerin to be packing your things to return home?"

His smile didn't falter. Eitan wanted Stefan to return to White Knight Hall—whose name he was considering changing now that he thought about it—because Delia needed her husband and because Eitan enjoyed the sense of family that came from having them all there. If he could think of a way to lure Brenner as well, he would, but the First Minister was too important for that now.

His posture was that of a man waiting to go, waiting only for Stefan to stand up and accompany him. After all, Brenner had promised security for the place, which would make Eitan feel better as well if his work took him out of the High City once more. He wanted to keep Delia and Lucrece safe from the possible depradations of seditious individuals.

"I can ward it, you know," he added. "The whole property. Against magic. Against bullets. The guards can see to the rest, and Delia knows how to fire a gun."

Eitan put his hand on Stefan's shoulder.

"Come home, brother. You're needed."

[Stefan Dornkirk]

Eitan's demeanor, as amusing as ever, hid the airman's exhaustion far better than Stefan's resigned quiet hid his own. He set down the paper he'd been trying to force information from into his recalcitrant mind. Never in his life before had he felt like he couldn't learn any more, that he was full, but he felt so now. Like his head was so overfull that, no matter which way he turned or levered, not one more piece of information would fit inside. He needed rest, he knew, and was reaching out to the one source of rest for him that he also fully trusted not to get killed while they were about it.

"Dienerin is at the Hall. As I haven't been able to attend to our wives as they deserve, given recent events, I thought there should at least be someone there, should they have need of anything."

This he said with the same controlled, self-assured tone that he'd been using without stop since landing back in Zaichaer. Immediately saying them he laid his head down on his desk, ignoring the papers the move disarrayed and tried, very hard, not to cry. He managed it, but it was no sure thing for a moment, and even closing his eyes for that brief amount of time threatened to pull him into sleep, so he sat back up and turned to properly look at Eitan.

"There is a price on my head. On Brenner's too. I have let it be known throughout the city that this is where I am, so that if they come... they won't... Delia, Luca. You understand?"

It was more a plea of forgiveness or at least to have his explanation accepted than it was an actual question. The arguments his friend was making were good ones, not to mention that, he had thoroughly spread the idea that he would be at Dornkirk manor. If assassins did come for the bounty, they would come to there. He supposed he might also take up residence in the grand mansion closer to the city center that was allocated to the Minister of Science. It wasn't widely known, outside the higher circles of society, that he had been living at Eitan's home at all. But socialites were not known for holding their tongues, particularly not when one of their own behaved in an unexpected way. Any information broker worth his iron would know where Stefan had been residing inside a day.

But, surely, it would be safe for a few hours? Or the night. Thinking about a night spent with his wife nearly had him in tears again. It wasn't like him to be so unmanned by such small things, but he hadn't been sleeping but an hour or two a day for... how long had they been back?

Standing he moved over to the couch in the sitting area and pulled Eitan along with them until they were sitting so they could see each other properly and speak quietly without being overhead.

"May I tell you what happened? I feel that I need to tell someone."

When he was given consent he laid out the events of the wedding of Kalzasi's god-prince. The weapon he'd designed from the parasites they'd brought back from the Warrens, the mechanism of it, how it had worked and the chaos that it had been used in. The whole messy scene from the moment they'd walked in to their escape onto the ship. Then after, his conversation with Albrecht, and drugging him so he would sleep through the flight back, the coup that came after and the ascension of the Dornkirk star beyond anything Stefan had aspired to. His pleasure at Brenner's recognition was evident, as was his dismay at his own.

It came out intelligibly but like a flood and did not stop until he realized he had gotten into complaining about his new job's duties and how badly unsuited to the social side of them he was. Even the science he only know in his specialized spheres. He let himself wind down and then waited, not sure if he wanted judgement of sympathy or just for his brother to tell him to shut up and come home again.

[Eitan Angevin]

When Stefan put his head down on his desk, Eitan's grin faded, but he wasted no time walking over to rub the back of his head, squeezing his neck to work out some of the inevitable tension. He let his hand fall when his brother-in-law sat up to regard him, nodding his understanding of the bounties on the heads of both his brothers-in-law.

The mongrel Angevin followed Stefan to the sitting area and took a seat. He was poised somewhere between taking his ease in familiar environs and wanting to be ready to go at a moment's notice if he could persuade the man to return to White Knight Hall and his pregnant wife.

But the Order spy stilled when it became evident that he was getting the fuller story, which was likely classified. He liked secrets, ferreting them out and holding them. But if Stefan knew where the pidge prince and his Kathar consort were, he didn't share that much. Eitan sighed, then moved to kneel in front of Stefan and take his hands. Though Stefan had served in the military, Eitan had seen more action.

"War is an ugly business, Stef," he said, dark eyes searching for understanding.

Whatever he found, he gave Stefan's hands a squeeze.

"Come home. Delia's pregnant. Luca's... pregnant. The Hall has wards and I'm going to improve them. We can increase security, even get the Order involved. The Lysanrin servants go out and extoll our praises, so even the common folk are looking out for us. We'll figure it out. Delegate. Work together at the Windworks so you and Brenner aren't both at the Manor at the same time as much..." That would make it an even juicier target, after all.

"You don't have to isolate yourself to protect your family, Stef. You should be there when your heir is born."

[Stefan Dornkirk]

Stefan looked down into the earnest, steady gaze just below his own. Eitan was right. As usual.

The wards were in place, the tales of his whereabouts laid as strongly as he could lay them. If he was careful, no one would even know he'd left. Or, no one who wasn't supposed to at least. Standing slowly, as though he ached, he looked around and said,

"Let me... I should bring," His hand was raised toward the stack of papers on his desk but he let it, and the rest of the sentence, fall away. "No. Dienerin can get them later."

Moving away from the desk, towards the wardrobe he pulled out a plain, long coat, such as a middle-class working man might wear. Pulling it on he nodded to his brother, leading him out and down the servant's stairs to the back of the house and from there to the street. He hailed a carriage, the steam car being far too conspicuous.

"We can go in quietly, I don't want a fuss made, not with both our wives in their current condition." It was a hope more than a belief that no fuss would actually be made. Based on her letters, he wasn't sure if Delia would leap into his arms or shoot him. Turning his thoughts back to the man in the seat across from him he grimaced.

"How was... Arriving back in the city? I've heard they are pressing hard for new oaths of allegiance."

He listened to the answer quietly, surprised at how readily his mind, which he had thought turned stone, was beginning to ease when no longer presented with an endless list of duties.

Their arrival, at least, was quiet. The carriage pulled up to the alley the ran behind the grounds of the Hall and they both got out to walk from the back gate to the house. Entering through the kitchen startled the couple of cook's helpers who were minding the place between meals, but Stefan hardly saw him. If they saw the flush that filled his cheeks as his eyes fell on the large prep table, surely they believed it to be discomfort at being in a servant's area.

Removing the overcoat he stopped to drop it off in the entrance hall before making his way, guilt washing over him, to the sitting room the family used most often. The door was open and within he could see his wife. His heart ached for her, and even a little for Luca, who had become almost a surrogate wife to him. He had never touched her in any way other than brotherly, of course, but, as Eitan had been forced to be away for so much of the time so soon after their wedding, Stefan had felt it his duty to see to her needs as well. It had become a subject that both women teased him about, which he bore with as much dignity as he could muster. The more diminutive woman seemed to delight in pouting when he refused to give her the same sort of small, physical courtesies that he gave to his own wife, but he had no idea what to make of that, so tried, though he often failed, to ignore it.

They must have made some small sound that caused both women to look up at once, and, seeing both their men, their expressions changed dramatically.

[Eitan Angevin]

"It was insulting to have our loyalty questioned," he admitted, but he had long since unruffled those feathers. He sighed. "I understand why now. And I didn't know that I was swearing allegience to Brynn by proxy..."

Eitan laughed at that, a bit of his old self, though clearly worn down. But he was glad to be on his feet again, Stefan being swayed to come home.

In the carriage, they reconnected, sharing intelligence and confidence, and by the time they passed through the gates and the invisible wards, he was slightly more at ease. Dienerin saw to their coats once inside, and then there was nothing for it but to face the ladies. Eitan, at least, would be fine, having come home alive and brought Stefan back to his wife. He didn't know if she would punish the man himself. Pregnancy did funny things to a woman.

But his eyes cut to his own wife. Lucrece was a vision, and he thought he saw that telltale glow they spoke of. She smiled, relieved to have him home. Both ladies were aware that if their men were taken from them, their in-laws might become a real problem. The pair of them rose as one, Delia still graceful despite the changes pregnancy had wrought upon her.

"Luca," he greeted. "Darling," she replied as they kissed and embraced.

Delia was a pace or two behind her sister-in-law, eyes upon Stefan the whole time. There was a pause when they were face to face, but then she merely stepped up without a word and kissed him. One hand came up to the nape of his neck, the other taking his hand and holding it to her belly as if to anchor him to their child if not to her and to their home.

"Well," she said once she came up for air—the babe was beginning to put pressure upon her lungs, it seemed, "it is reassuring to know that Order interrogation techniques can bring a man to his senses and home to his family." But if the words could have had barbs in them, her smile ought to make them harmless. She wasn't vengeful; she just wanted her husband home where she could protect him. "Are you hungry, my love?"

Lucrece was hungry, but not for supper. The hand they couldn't see was doing devious things to Eitan.

[Stefan Dornkirk]

Stefan had managed a smile at Eitan's joke, saying,

"I think we both swore ourselves away to Brynn long ago..."

But then they arrived, and the time for jokes was passed, at least, Stefan thought it was. Perhaps Eitan and Luca would have laughter between them. He hoped Delia would be happy to see him. How displeased she was at his absence seemed to imply she would be, but, as long as he'd let that displeasure go on might render any joy in its remedy inert.

He did not try to smile at his wife, nor did he speak, only moved into the room and stood, waiting to see if it was her will to come greet him. Their eyes met and seemed to lock, leaving Stefan unable to see anything but her. He had to bite hard at the inside of his cheek to keep back a sudden, intense, and wholly unmanly urge to hold her in his arms and cry.

When her response was to kiss him and bring his hand to the life they had created, it was a very near thing. His breath caught and held and his other arm came up to wrap around her, though he did not pull her tightly to him, for fear of crushing their child.

She proved him wrong, as she often did, by teasing a joke at him, one that he deserved, as her greeting. The idea of Eitan torturing him some to get him to comply was, in that moment of guilt, unexpectedly appealing. Her question had him shaking his head, he wasn't hungry. His body called him a liar but he didn't think he could eat. He hadn't been eating much more than he'd been sleeping, despite the best efforts of the cook who knew his tastes best. He looked drawn, but relieved. Taking his wife's face gently in the hand not still on her middle he pressed their foreheads together and whispered,

"I'm sorry. My love, I'm sorry. I..." He hesitated but he was among people who cared for him, "I was scared. For you. For..." He glanced down at where her condition was now quite obvious. "I didn't know what would happen, in Kalzasi, and then as soon as we got home. They put a price on my head. I didn't know what would happen, I swear to you, I would never have gone if..."

He stopped himself, eyes cutting to where Eitan and Luca were reuniting, then stood slowly, never letting his touch break from Delia.

"Hello, Luca." He said, attempting something more formal, but it was hard to be formal with a woman who had tormented him to the point of putting her over his knee, "I hope you are well."

[Eitan Angevin]

Eitan was quietly promising to do devilish things to Lucrece after supper when Stefan greeted her. Her sudden smile, her sudden sweetness, would have fooled nearly anyone. It wasn't that Stefan's presence didn't make her happy, nor that she couldn't be sweet, but Stefan would surely have turned red had he heard what she had been saying to her husband.

"Well, the ladies are already eating for two, so you must at least keep us company." She stepped up, placing a hand on Stefan's arm, and kissed his cheek chastely. There might have been that "glow" about her as well. The newest Angevin would be running to catch up with the newest Dornkirk just like in the previous generation.

But Delia took Stefan's hand and wouldn't release it. She guided him to the sofa, and Lucrece took Eitan to the settee. They were all back together again.

"While you were gone, husband," Delia began, giving him some idea of what he had missed, "the boiler broke. But we didn't have to call out to have it repaired. Luca fixed it herself."

"It's simple enough engineering, Delia," she said, downplaying the accomplishment as if the praise were exasperating.

Eitan squinted at her. "I suppose we ought to take you to the Windworks to help design new steam engines."

"Oh, just bring me the plans and I'll send you back with notes. You can take the credit for my genius. I much prefer the ease of life that comes when people see a pretty face and assume I'm an idiot."

"I have a plumbing problem you can help me with later," he said innocently, having taken her hand and placed it strategically upon his lap. Her smile was cherubic but her eyes danced.

Delia laughed indulgently. She began to massage the flesh between Stefan's thumb and forefinger, attempting to soothe him. She wanted his help with a plumbing issue later as well.

[Stefan Dornkirk]

Luca's sweetness was both real and feigned at once, a feat which Stefan would never fully understand. Her greeting was nice enough, and, with her husband to keep her in line, at least it was the most contact they were likely to have. She was beautiful, of course, but her temperament was more than enough to keep Stefan from desire, even had he not been in love with his own wife to the point of distraction.

His biological training was detecting the same signs as he had seen in Delia months before she'd begun to show her maternal state, but she had not had a chance to speak to Eitan privately, and it wasn't Stefan's news to tell. The idea that his own child would have an Angevin playmate was warming, and did something strange to his insides that he didn't have a name for.

Allowing himself to be led, feeling intensely how good it was to be led, to have nothing to do but follow, he sat down beside his wife, perfectly happy to keep her hand in his. It took a moment for him to really hear what Delia was saying, and when he did he exclaimed,

"Did she indeed?" Why had he never learned that Luca had an interest in machinery? Stefan was peering over at the diminutive woman with a similar expression to Eitan's. There was no reason a woman couldn't find employment at the Windworks. He was a forward-thinking man, and marriage had, if anything only increased the belief that his mother had first set into him that women were capable of whatever they chose.

Stefan did catch what was passing on the settee, and flushed briefly, in his way before turning away from the display, wanting Eitan to have as much privacy as he wanted. Delia's attention was beginning to deepen the release of stress that had begun on the carriage ride over. He wanted to kiss her, and, he supposed, not glancing over at the other couple, he was allowed.

Leaning over carefully he let his wife fill his eyes, raising a hand to stroke over her face with all the gentleness of missing her for more than a month, and then covered her mouth with his. He was so hungry for it that it was an actual struggle to keep himself gentlemanly about it. When he pulled back, after probably too long, he said,

"How are you?" His eyes moving down to her belly made a plural out of the pronoun, "How are you both?"

[Eitan Angevin]

"I prefer theoretical physics to applied engineering," Lucrece explained, but Delia was distracting him so she turned her attention back to Eitan. The women were friends and frank with each other about all things, so she knew they both missed their husbands performing their husbandly duties and neither would be upset if they were carried off to bedrooms just then, but she supposed Stefan would want to be proper and she knew Eitan thrived on the family dynamic they were building here, and she actually could be patient when she wanted to be.

"Well, I can tell him later," she assured Eitan, who nodded and kissed her, moving a bit under her hand, which was certainly a happy distraction for her.

Delia accepted the kiss as her due, giving his tongue a bit of a tug before letting him go. Her cheeks were rosier for it.

"I tried to be the dutiful Zaichaeri wife," she admitted, "but after a while, I just wanted you back. We've been staying put to keep your worries minimal, but I grow tired of hiding behind Eitan's wards and walls and the guards at the gates. At least if you're here, I have my husband and all his charms." Her eyes dropped to his lap, then back to his eyes. Her smile was wicked for a moment, but then went back to fond.

"We are healthy. It's just vexing that my body wants to keep me more and more still. At least with you here, I can take care of you, feel like I'm doing something other than being an incubator. Oh, I am looking forward to motherhood and pregnancy isn't awful—most of the time—but I need something active to do."

She kissed him once again.

"I don't want to keep you from your work, but I want you to be home when possible. Will you grant me that, husband?"