Born Under a Bad Sign. [Stefan]

[Eitan Angevin]

70th of Ash, Year 122 of Steel
White Knight Hall

The ZADC Black Swan was a swift, small corvette of an airship, and it was upon that craft that Seeker-Captain Angevin returned home. A Stormborn Lysanrin caught the rope and steadied it as the lord of the manor shimmied down without fanfare. He was airman enough that he didn't need the craft to dock properly only to drop him off and then return to the Windworks. Once he was down, the Lysanrin let go and Angevin saluted the ship. The rope slithered upward in the strange light and hove toward the largest of the airborn islands.

"Thanks," he said, clapping his servant on the shoulder. The Stormborn thumbed his brow, grateful for the praise from his magnanimous master, and shuffled off to make himself useful as Dienerin appeared as if by magic—though Angevin was relatively certain the man bore no corrupting rune.

His valet was generally unflappable, but there was a tension to his mien that drew Angevin's attention.

"Report," he snapped.

"She's begun her labor, sir," he replied with alacrity. "Your lady wife." The last was obvious, and that was unlike Dienerin as well. He could only hope it was a discomfiture with ladies' health and not a problem.

"Quite."

Eitan didn't know what else to say, so he walked toward the door. Dienerin fell into step with him. That all rather took the wind out of his sails, putting him off-balance as it were. His arrival must have been announced. Delia emerged from Lucrece's room even as he strode down the hall toward it. She held up her hands.

"All's going well enough, Eitan dear," she said, hands resting on his shoulders firmly as she placed an equally firm kiss to his cheek. "Welcome home. Now, we have everything well in hand so I want you to go to the study where you can babysit Stef and the baby so I can make sure everything goes quick and proper for your wife and baby." She had, in fact, ordered her husband to prepare to babysit Eitan as well. What they didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

"Yes, well... Ah. Tell her I love her?" Thinking better of it, he raised his voice toward the door. "I love you, Luca!"

"Go away, Eitan!" came her muffled reply.

"Go away, Eitan," Delia said, more softly, more affectionately.

His dark eyes threatened to fill, but he cleared his throat, straightened his posture, and nodded.

"Very well. You're in charge, Dee."

Dienerin accompanied him to the study, where he found the other Dienerin babysitting Stefan while Stefan babysat his daughter. A part of Eitan wanted to deflate. Another part of him wanted to make a beeline for the side table for a few fingers of something strong. Instead, duty took precedence and he stood at attention and began to report.

"The chateau is warded against... whatever this is," he said crisply. "The Semblers can't make heads nor tails of it, but they understand it well enough that the warders can do their work. And... that is a good thing. Shadow... creatures have begun to emerge and they are entirely hostile. Resistent to mundane munitions. But the wards will keep the Schiller and other refugee camps safe as well, at least for the time being. So far nothing has been spotted this high. The islands should be safe, but my warders are on alert. Beeman was with us, and she will hopefully have enough data to offer more assistance."

[Stefan Dornkirk]

Stefan had missed the birth of his own child, though no one involved blamed him at all. Unless the baby herself did, and there would be no way to know that until she was old enough to understand that she had been born at all. Regardless, he would have been as useful in that situation as he was in this one, which was to say, none at all.

Well, he wasn't wholly useless, as he had reports he could read from the comfort of an armchair while watching his little daughter did what looked surprisingly like baby push ups on the soft rug. She was not yet crawling, but she could lift things to her mouth and 'chew' on them, and she certainly tried to grab things if you dangled them near her, or that happened to be dangling near her, as he learned whenever she was held near enough to reach his hair. Delia's recent change in hair styles to ones that held her lovely tresses away from her face and shoulders now made perfect sense to him and he had already requested a trim of his own from Deinerin over the weekend. He was making an effort to spend at least half of each weekend day at home with his family and his daughter was at least recognizing him instantly now.

By the time he heard Eitan call out to his wife in her labors he had forgotten about the report in his hand and was day dreaming about all the little mechanical toys he could make for his baby when she was old enough not to try to put them all in her mouth. They had not settled on a first name for her, because it was stressful and painful to think about the family members they had lost and which ones they might honor by giving her their name, but they had settled on a middle name and so were calling her that. He suspected they might always call her that and that her first name might be for formal occasions, but there was nothing wrong with that. Amalia was the chosen name, which was sometimes shortened to Amy or Lia, or other, less sensible non-sense by her nanny or the servants. He might put a stop to it, eventually, but, he suspected that the girl herself, being a combination of himself and Delia, would do the job herself, just as soon as she could speak.

When Eitan came in he jumped up and, careful not to step on his progeny, crossed to hug his brother-in-law heartily. He would not offer his congratulations, not until mother and child were safely delivered, but he was happy to share in the joy, and even the worry.

"Eitan!" He said, trying to keep his voice calm and also show his excitement and also fear without adding to Eitan's own. Stefan probably sounded odd, but he accepted it. "How are you?"

Amalia, lifted herself again on to her arms so she could see the person who had just arrived and made a pleased cooing sound of recognition.

Same Stefan thought, though he would never have articulated the thought.

[Eitan Angevin]

Eitan was startled to have his report greeted with a hug, but he softened into it. There were new monsters on the ground, but thankfully, due to Stefan's particular genius, they were truly the lords of the air. And then there was the worry over Lucrece and the unborn child that he secretly hoped was a boy. But everyone was as safe as humanly possible at the moment, so he supposed it was all right to relax—as much as that was possible given what was going on in the other room.

"I'm—" He had to consider that for a moment in order to give his brother-in-law an answer with any substance. "I'm tired. Anxious. I hope it doesn't take long... I shan't be able to sleep until I know they are well."

The Dienerins put their heads together to confer, most likely communicating how best to babysit their masters. They were, the both of them, masters of logistics in ways neither Eitan nor Stefan were.

"I just wish there were something I could do other than stay out of their hair..." He planted a fraternal kiss on Stefan's cheek, then glanced down to where his niece had a determined expression on her little face. "I think Amalia's trying to crawl to us."

He laughed, adoration echoing in his voice. The uncle and father-to-be knelt down, one hand idly curled around Stefan's calf, the other held out encouragingly to the infant.

"Come along, darling. You must crawl to walk, walk to run, and run to fly."

Whatever else the Dienerins had decided, Eitan's valet departed to prepare tea—at least if they added spirits to it, the tea would dilute the alcohol and the men wouldn't get out of hand waiting for the newest Angevin to be born.

[Stefan Dornkirk]

While it was vitally important that Eitan, and all of them, remained professional and exacting while at the Windworks, and most other places they had access to now, The Hall was their home. Stefan would listen to a report if needs be, but if it was something that required immediate attention Eitan wouldn't have stopped to speak to their wives before arriving, which he'd been overheard doing.

Particularly now that they were both to be fathers, this needed to be a space where they could be seen to be people, to be themselves. He had no intention of raising his child, or children if he were lucky, seeing him as the cold, stoic and indifferent creature his father had been.

They had organized the Order to begin warding against whatever this new evil was, set guards, ensured everyone on the islands knew how and where to report any oddities or dangers. The structure they had created was working well, and as intended. This new and unexpected situation was showing off just how well, rather than exposing weaknesses and Stefan couldn't help but feel proud of his people, of his homeland, even now.

"If we're up all night together at least no one else will have to worry about how many times this one wakes up during it." He glanced down at Amalia to imply who he meant. The baby hadn't slept through the night yet, though she slept longer each time they put her down. Having Delia's maid servant helping allowed she and Stefan to sleep more or less regularly, but it was not unusual to wake to find his wife tending to their daughter herself.

An expression he would have recognized on himself crossed his face and Eitan knelt to offer the baby encouragement. That she would, someday, fly, was a foregone conclusion. She was too stubborn to let simple things like the laws of physics keep her down, and, to his unexpected pride, Stefan realized that her version of the trait was an amalgamation of his own and Delia's.

According to the child development books she was not supposed to be able to crawl for several months at least, but he wouldn't have been at all surprised if she put shame to the books.

Quietly he asked his man servant to have sandwiches brought to them there in the study. They could have a celebratory dinner and drinks once they could all enjoy it. The urge to drink was tugging at him, and he could only assume at Eitan also, but it felt like a disservice to become overly inebriated while the women did the work.

Leaning down he scooped his tiny daughter into his arms and moved to sit with her on the couch, patting the seat beside himself until his brother in law joined him. When his Dienerin stepped out to add his request to what Eitan's Dienerin was doubtless already fetching he turned and offered a kiss that was less fraternal, though lacking any heat. The sort of kiss Delia gave him when she wanted him to feel supported.

"I've no doubt that between them Delia and Luca will have your son out and in your arms in no time. Will you eat with me?" He was sure that had his child been born under more normal circumstances he wouldn't have been able to swallow a bite, but Eitan was a military career man, and they could usually eat.

[Eitan Angevin]

"She can be quite the soporofic, though," he said thoughtfully. "I once sat down to hold her and she promptly fell asleep upon my chest. Between the heat that little furnace puts off and our working hours," which was to say rather non-stop as there were often emergencies, "I fell asleep as well." He smiled, not remembering so pleasant nor so restful a nap.

"Mm, yes. Something light, I think, but enough to line the gullet for a night of hot toddies." Having been out in the skies, he had a bit of a chill to banish from his bones. Though they hadn't such ghastly winters as Kalzasi, Karnor was still north and it was getting on toward the Season of Frost. In any case, he would sip those rather more slowly than he might take to spirits neat, and he wanted his wits about him in case of a true emergency, or if his son—or daughter, though the midwives seemed certain his first child would be a masculine one—arrived with military alacrity.

Eitan glanced about for his Dienerin, but couldn't find him or even Stefan's. They had things well underway as per usual.

"What shall we do in the meantime? Teach Amalia to win at cards?" He smiled at the kiss, and his elbow rested on the back of the sofa so his hands could toy with the hair at the nape of Stefan's neck. "Oh." He sobered. "I suppose time has run out and this is a conversation we ought to have..." He cleared his throat. "I don't know whether you and Delia have plans for names of future sons, and of course we will want to meet him before we truly decide upon a name for the little soldier, but... ah... would you be terribly put out if we keep Brenner under consideration? And, well... and Stefan, of course." He might even consider Melchior as a middle name if the others were vetoed. Neither of them had much love lost for the man, but he wanted the world to know that Angevin and Dornkirk were all but synonymous now.

[Stefan Dornkirk]

Stefan chuckled at the image of his daughter putting her uncle to sleep simply by deciding it was time to sleep. In his many imaginings of what his life as a father might be like he had never come to the conclusion that a daughter of his might take over the whole household of four adults, plus those in service, before she could never reliably roll herself over. She could do that now, but her takeover had occurred some time before.

"I believe she has decided that we are both her father, and it may take some significant convincing to persuade her otherwise, even after tonight." He meant that, even after Eitan had a child of his own to father. That the little girl might, used to being the center of everyone's attention, be jealous of her cousin taking up some of that limelight hadn't occurred to him. He had been so enthralled by his younger brother's arrival, and as that had been his only experience with new children coming into a home, if he thought about it at all he assumed the children would be the best of friends from the offing.

Glancing down at the baby, who was currently flirting outrageously with the both of them as he jostled her on his knee to make her giggle, Stefan gave a skeptical look.

"I don't think she is going to need much help in that department, but I suppose knowing the rules can be useful."

As the conversational tone sobered he turned to give more attention to his brother, settling Amalia on his chest to mouth at the buttons on his vest. He stiffened unconsciously at the sound of Brenner's name, but it was reflexive now, like wincing from the movement of an old wound even if it only aches now. The re-entrance of the younger Deinerin with a tray of hot drinks (which included a bottle for the baby) allowed Stefan a moment to settle himself, so his voice was only a little gruff when he answered, more quietly than they had been speaking,

"I think you should consider it, more than. I couldn't..." The hand not resting on the baby's back flexed and then closed and he cleared his throat before offering a smile that showed both pain and affection, "I hope the name stays in the family, but I think I could not call a child of mine by his name. Better you should do it."

As for his own name, he might feature in one of his offspring, if he could come up with a middle name to actually call the child.

Eitan's manservant brought them each a drink to be placed on the little side tables at either end of the two-person settee just as Stefan's brought in another tray, this one laden with sandwiches and other little finger foods. As though realizing that it was time to eat, Amalia wriggled about until she could grab on of her father's fingers, bring it to her mouth, and begin to 'chew' on it.

[Eitan Angevin]

"Aye," he managed gruffly, his voice traitorous of deep feeling. "Heard."

Lucrece was happy with Brenner Leir, though Eitan had suggested an Esterházy family name for the middle. Even before Zaichaer and life had exploded, he had been moving away from his father; best to start what their royal ancestors might have called a cadet branch than worry overmuch about whatever crumbs his father might leave him. But now, with only his half-sister and himself to represent the Angevin line, it fell unto him to decide which family traditions would continue and which would be left behind.

"Oh, capital." He coughed, reaching for the tea his valet had prepared just as he liked it. "Thank you, Dienerin." And then his cousin was there with sandwiches. They truly did have the house running like military or clockwork. "Dienerins."

If midwives and his own intuition were wrong and he too became the father of a daughter, then he and Lucrece would have to have another conversation. Friederike would likely prefer Delia memorialize their sisters, Orella and Regan, though he didn't know if perhaps she was coming around to him finally. She had Perpetua in her ear everyday now, and Leir was gone along with his pecadillo. If Eitan was the result—well, Eitan was proving his worth.

Eitan sipped his tea and watched Amalia attempt to pull milk from her father's fingertip, considering whether his stomach could handle sustenance just then. And just then, the door opened once more, a young lad with wide, slightly wild eyes looking for and finding Eitan. He gulped.

"Ah... sir... your lordship... ah, your lady wife is doing well..."

That eased Eitan's tension slightly and perhaps he could manage a sandwich before nerves tightened up his stomach once more. He nodded.

"Thank you for the status update, my boy," he said, offering a dashing smile that steeled the nerves of his subordinates when in the middle of a crisis.

Emboldened by this, the boy added, "I wouldn't, ah... thank me just yet, sir. She, ah... your lady wife has... um... mentioned divorce."

There was an awkward moment, and then Eitan guffawed. This allowed the boy to laugh nervously.

"Well, a sense of humor is a good sign, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Here. Take a sandwich with you. I know the work may be long."

"Thank you, sir." He timidly took one. Dienerin handed him a napkin and he mumbled thanks to Dienerin, too, before departing.

"Well, hopefully this will all be settled straightaway."

[Stefan Dornkirk]

The younger of the Dienerin's brought over the baby bottle after setting down the teacups, allowing Stefan time to take a sip and find it pleasantly, if mildly, spiked with a whiskey he particularly cared for. He gave a slight nod to his own man when he came back into the room, assuming, perhaps incorrectly, that the addition had been his. When the bottle was placed he set his own drink aside and replaced his finger with the nipple of what, he assumed, was Delia's milk, likely reheated. The concept of someone boiling, or even heating, his wife's milk in a sauce pan disturbed him in a way he couldn't fathom, so he chose not to think about it.

The little girl wiggled herself into a position laying back in his one arm as soon as she saw the instrument of feeding and made grasping motions with her tiny hands. Feeding her was something he could do now, but it had been trial and error for a while. Knowing she was most likely to fall asleep once her belly was warm and full and that she wouldn't require tending before that, he let his mind drift from what his hands were doing back to Eitan.

Just then, however, the door opened and there was an exchange between a serving boy being used as a messenger and his brother-in-law. At the mention of divorce his dark browns drew down but then Eitan laughed and Stefan realized it was just the sort of thing Lucrece would say when she was put out. On reflection he seemed to recall a time or two when she had said something to that effect, in jest.

The implication was a good one, and hearing Eitan laugh was equally so. Stefan had no been present for his wife's trial in childbirth, and this had left him to imagine all the worst possibilities that his knowledge of biology could provide. From what he'd garnered after the fact, his ill imaginings hadn't been far from the truth. So it was with gratitude and relief that he received the news that all was well with Luca. Moving so he could both cradle Amalia and hold her bottle with the same arm he used the other to clap his brother on the shoulder.

"There you are, you'll be holding your son before midnight." After a moment he added, as though in conspiracy, "Now you'll only have to find a way to make it up to his mother." A part of him longed to give both more comfort and more congratulation in the form of physical affection but the door might burst open again at any moment, so he restrained, instead using the moment to bring up a topic he'd been meaning to for some time but kept getting lost in conversations about their work.

"Speaking of which, I've been meaning to tell you than I'm planning to return to The Manor, in the armored suit, of course. There are a few things that I wanted to see if I could retrieve that I didn't think about in the haste of those first days." And the daze of finding the bodies of both his parents and Brenner, but this was known already, and only, to Eitan, so did not bear speaking of.

"Would you like me to stop by the Angevin estate and retrieve anything, I am happy to do so. Some family jewels, perhaps? As gifts of appreciation for all the effort Lucrece is putting into your impending fatherhood?"

That House Angevin had a significant number of jewels Stefan knew first hand, having seen many of them on the various members. Delia had come with a little of her own, of course, but, as third daughter and not heir to the estate she would have had the Dornkirk collection to look forward to rather than much, if anything, from her own family upon the demise of her father.

"I seem to recall a particularly stunning pearl choker with pale sapphire accents that might bring out her eyes." The set had, in his opinion, been wasted badly on the now dowager Lady Angevin, and the thought of having it adjusted to fit Luca's slim throat was gratifying. Bringing his mother's collection for his wife was only one of his motivations, and, he could admit in the privacy of his own mind, a lesser one. There were things that he felt he wanted...needed, now that he was back in something resembling his right mind.

[Eitan Angevin]

"Aye," he said after some thought. "I can venture with you to both estates. Friederike brought quite a bit with her, but with the suits, we could unearth some heretofore buried treasures. And you ought to give at least some of them to your in-laws." He chuckled, not wanting Stefan to be on their bad side.

Eitan was surprised and gratified that Perpetua, at least, was thriving in this new paradigm. The world was seeing her mettle. He cared little for the goodwill of his stepmother, but he would be glad for his grandmother to meet his children before she departed to take over whatever afterlife awaited good Atheists. While Stefan fed his daughter, Eitan' took her little foot in his hand, marveling at the perfection of nature's engineering. He hadn't thought he would be much a one for children, but experience was proving otherwise. Amalia was madly beloved, and his child would be too, though the immediacy of fatherhood brought up a welter of emotions, terror not the least.

Per usual, a good feeding and burping had the littlest Dornkirk dreaming of whatever it was small children dreamed of. They took their refreshment, as well as their strong, strong tea.

They spoke at length. At some point, Eitan dismissed Dienerin, wanting his man to be rested because goodness knew Eitan wouldn't be for the foreseeable future. The brothers-in-law were left largely to their own devices, getting occasional reports that all was continuing apace, though the timing of things could not be predicted.

Eitan didn't become intoxicated, but he did nurse a mellow, warm buzz. He didn't even realize he was sleepy, but a primal wail from newborn lungs invaded the formless beginnings of a dream and he blinked himself awake, his head resting upon Stefan's knee and the man's hand in his hair.

"Hngh...?"

[Stefan Dornkirk]

Stefan cleared his throat, one of his tiny signs of being uncomfortable.

"Actually," He amended, trying to sound casual and looking down at his daughter to avoid his brother's eyes for a moment, "I would like to go alone. If it's all the same to you. I..." He paused, glancing up briefly to see what reaction he was getting before finishing, "Think I need time, there."

It was the best he could do, talking about the place that had been his home, the people that had been his family. White Knight Hall was his home now, and the people in it were his family. It wasn't that he was less happy with the newer versions, quite the opposite, and, this being the case, he didn't know how to explain, even to himself, why he felt like he needed to see Dornkirk Manor again. Of course, there were things he did want to retrieve from what was left of the building, but that wasn't why he felt a tugging pull to go soon. Rationally, he couldn't even explain it to himself.

Soon enough, Amalia was asleep, drooling on his brocade vest. They ate, and drank, caffeine. countering at least some of the wear of the day. Delia's maid came for the baby, and Stefan gave her up without complaint. Once that was done, the two men were alone, waiting. It wasn't unpleasant, and actually quite nice when the infant sleeper on his chest was eventually replaced by an adult one on his lap. How the man could sleep while his wife labored Stefan could not understand, but he did envy. Letting Eitan take rest where it could be gotten, he could not help but run his hand through the soft dark hair spread over his leg.

When the cry of the newest member of their family broke the comfortable quiet of the mostly slumbering house a wide smile broke his contented expression and he looked down as it woke the newest father.

"I believe, my dear brother, that your son has arrived."