the_lioness | (no subject)

(no subject)

Thanks in part to Jonathan's intimate understanding of Alanna's character, it's rare that she is called upon to be present or perform in her official capacity as King's Champion. The post itself is outdated, more an honor than a necessity, which is one reason it was bestowed upon the knight with wandering feet. There are others to stand beside Jon at every official meeting or ceremony.

The birth of Prince Roald, heir to the throne, had been another matter entirely. Balls, official presentations, formal declarations of loyalty, felicitations from foreign governments: Alanna's presence as a representative of the throne had been necessary for over a week.

Adam and the triplets had left well before she was released, at her suggestion. Still, she had sulked.

It's a lovely autumn evening -- sunny and cool, but not cold -- and the height of apple picking season. After leaving Mithros with his groom, Alanna cleans up and goes to find everyone in the orchard, hoping she hasn't missed all the fun. She's not sure where they are, but it's easy enough to follow the full baskets, and besides, it feels nice just to walk.

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Adam would have his own basket full of apples, but his hands are full enough with the triplets. Thom's crying his head off in Adam's arms (utterly and completely wronged by the removal of his blanket) while Grace keeps trying to skootch herself off of the blanket Adam had so carefully laid on the ground. He's nearly at the point of wishing they were back at the bar so that he could keep SOME sort of control when he sees Alanna come around the row of trees, and he manages to give an overbright smile.

"Welcome home!"

Adam might still be too far away to see her lips twitch. This is probably for the best.

There are apples everywhere: in baskets, on the ground, in the arms of a group of village boys running from tree to tree and laughing. The boys look sticky from head to toe. Smiling, Alanna grabs an apple from a basket before they get there and takes a bite. It helps her not laugh when she gets a closer look at Adam's face.

"Trouble, husband?"

Eyes on his, she smooths Thom's shock of red hair.

"We were doing well until about 20 minutes ago. I'm convinced they have an extra sense that allows them to know when you're near. When that happens, I just won't do."

He leans forward for a kiss, his lips curling into a real smile.

"Perhaps we should've let Jon take a few more hands at this. How're they doing?"

Alanna looks both surprised and pleased at the thought, and after lingering over the kiss for a moment longer than is considered socially appropriate, she reaches down to rescue Grace from the edge of the blanket.

"That's about as long as I've been back, actually." Grace squirms until she has a decent hold on a piece of her mother's hair. Alanna snorts, possibly at this, possibly at the question. "As well as can be expected. Jon still looks as if he's been stunned one too many times. Thayet continues to exude cool confidence, except when Buri starts to fuss at or over her. They need time alone.

"Where's Jamie?"

Probably with Myles or Maude or Ranulf, she's sure, but she still wants to know.

"Myles was excited to take him with him when he went to go check on something."

More like Adam tried to bribe him, but same difference, right?

Adam laughs and places a kiss on Grace's forehead.

"I think you ruined her plans for escape."

"Probably his wine," Alanna guesses, making an upside down face at Thom, who has, for the time being, decided that continued crying isn't going to get him anywhere. "He loves them all, but I suspect he has an especially soft spot for Jamie."

Bemused, she smiles up at Adam.

"Do you really think they miss me when I'm gone?"

"You're their mother."

And while that's something that should seem fairly obvious to most, it's an idea that's only really dawned on Adam recently.

"Yes," she replies, slowly, as if she's working something out, "but I didn't miss my father."

There's a blush, and she turns her head toward Grace to hide it, breathing in her sweet baby smell. What she can smell through the apples, anyway.

Alanna isn't ashamed of the truth in her words, but she remembers blinking back tears a time or two because Lord Alan couldn't be bothered with his children.

Adam lifts a finger up to her chin, and tugs it lightly back towards him.

"You're not your father.

And the children adore you."

As if to prove his point, Thom nearly leaps out of Adam's arms, thrusting his own towards Alanna.

Alanna laughs and, as the blush fades, adjusts Grace so she can grab one of those tiny, flailing fists and kiss it loudly.

"I'm sorry to be maudlin," she apologizes. "Jon is so nervous he'll make a miserable father that I started to get my own doubts back. It's... never going to be easy, is it?"

"Jon'll be a wonderful father.

...not that a few doubts SOMEWHERE won't do him a little good."

Adam laughs and adjusts Thom a bit, settling down on the blanket (careful to avoid the sticky spot that Grace somehow managed to leave despite his not allowing her any sticky foods).

Babies are inherently sticky, it seems.

"Aye, and Roald will be fine... He said he suddenly sympathized with you, but I wasn't supposed to tell you that."

Grace is lifted overhead until she gurgles; it could be a laugh, but it could also be something else, and Alanna isn't about to let her spit up all over the place. Quickly, she lowers Grace back to her former spot and flops down beside Adam.

"How have you been?" she asks, watching him closely.

"I've missed you."

He turns and smiles at her and it's the truth. He takes a deep breath and relaxes.

"I'm awfully glad you're back. And not just because I don't have six hands."

Alanna takes Thom and positions him near his sister, then loops her arms around Adam's neck.

"No? Imagine if you did." Amused, she waggles her eyebrows. "I'd forgotten how Gods awful formal state events could be without you there to keep me sane.

"At least I didn't start any wars," she adds quietly.

"No wars."

He returns quietly, with something like a whistful look on his face. He leans in a bit, breathing in the crook of her neck.

"Home just isn't home without you."

"Yes it is," she argues, but her tone is gentle and there's a smile on her face as she tilts her head, shivering slightly in reaction. "It's just a lot less loud."

And yet, she knows what he means.

"The picking seems to be going well."

One hand lifts to stroke his hair, sun-warmed and unmistakably apple scented.

There's a long pause before he speaks again, as he relaxes, just paying attention to the feel of her hand.

"The picking yes. The collecting, not so much."

And, as if to prove his point, Grace has in her hands one of the smaller apples, and though it's possible it's just Adam's imagination, appears to be about to lob it at her brother's head.

If Grace is at all like her mother, she's probably at least thinking about it.

Thom is unconcerned, waving his arms and legs in the air with a delighted expression. Who cares about sisters when you have feet?

"Oh, I don't know. You've got most of them in baskets. I've seen worse," Alanna tells Adam. Her grin is practically audible. "I hope you're setting some aside for your own use."

Adam nods as he picks up an apple of his own to contemplate.

"I've collected most of those already."

A bite of the apple proves his theory -- most delicious. He offers it over to Alanna and sits up, reaching over to jiggle some of Thom's interesting toes.

"Good."

Content to watch them for a moment, Alanna munches on the apple and idly wonders what happened to the one she had in her hand earlier. The Goddess alone knows -- things seem to disappear when she gets around their children.

"It's not as difficult though, is it?" she blurts out, much to her own surprise. Frowning anxiously, she wipes her mouth on her sleeve. "When I leave?"

"Not as difficult?"

He looks at her, a bit baffled.

It could be, Adam supposes, the one that Grace has decided is not quite suitable for Thom's head, but instead makes a great ball as she rolls it under her hand.

She purses her lips, annoyed that she's not making herself understood.

"For you. You don't get as upset? It seems like you don't get as upset.

"I don't want you to be upset," she mutters, managing to make it sound stubborn.

He gives a light sigh that's part laughter.

"As much as I'd like to permanently stick you to my side, I don't think that's a very practical option."

See if he'd've said that when she was PREGNANT.

"I can't say I much like it. But it's easier than it was."

A little.

After all, there's not a ton of time to think on that with the triplets-

"Grace Thea, get that out of your mouth."

Nonsense. Alanna was nothing but sunshine and joy when she was pregnant.

She giggles, and then leans forward to tug the apple free. But-

Well.

The problem is that Adam dives for it at the same moment. The side of his head hits hers; not hard enough to cause damage, but not lightly either. There's definite ringing.

Laughing much harder now, Alanna clutches her head -- as well as Grace's new toy -- and sinks the rest of the way to the blanket.

"That wouldn't have happened if I was permanently stuck to your side."

Adam's laughing, too, and there are pricks of tears in his eyes, while Grace starts to stomp and wail over the loss of her toy, and Thom looks at his parents as if they're creatures from an entirely different planet.

(The jury's still out on that one.)

"I thinks it's a sign. Obviously, we should get to work on that side stitching thing immediately."

"Glue," she suggests. "Stitching requires needles."

Because that's obviously the largest impediment to this plan.

Alanna, familiar with Grace's penchant for acquiring inappropriate toys, sits up long enough to find a real toy in the triplets' bag. There's probably a name for it, but she refers to said toy as 'that ring they suck on.'

And then she's back on the ground, opening one eye and then the other, making sure she can focus.

"Have I mentioned that you have a hard head?" she says, rather too prettily.

Adam brings one hand up, knocking lightly as he seems to tilt his head to listen for any clunking sounds that might result.

"Not recently."

He leans forward and, with a smile, places a kiss on her head.

She smiles, ruffles his hair and says: "Consider yourself reminded."

The teasing look fades.

"I'm glad it's better." Because they both know she'll go whenever Jon calls. Another smile, this one content, and she reaches for his hand. "I haven't seen Thom."

He takes her hand and rubs it briefly as he looks around.

"He's right..."

His voice drops off, and he sighs. "I thought it was supposed to get easier as they got more self sufficient."

He stands and turns in a circle, looking around.

Eyebrow arched, Alanna tugs on his pants leg and points to her side, where the Thom in question had managed to push himself. He seems intent on kicking his way through her armpit.

"I meant his namesake, actually." Her mouth tightens. "I suppose it would have helped to add 'at the bar.'"

you never know, which a child of theirs, he just might succeed.

Adam laughs in relief and picks up the offending child, murmuring some good-natured threats.

"Has he been staying there still?"

"I think so," she says, folding her arms under her head. "He wouldn't have left without saying goodbye. What worries me is whether or not he's taken care of his Gift."

And, after turning it over and over in her mind, Alanna thinks she knows what he plans to do with it.

"I'm not sure he realizes how serious I was about that stipulation."

She looks Adam in the eye. To this day, it amazes her that no one has mentioned her contingency plan, something she sees as so obvious.

Even if Thom refuses to honor his promise and goes to live on Earth without getting rid of his Gift... she has Adam.

Adam watches her, and it's not that he would necessarily poke around in her head, were they back at the bar, but sometimes he does wonder what goes on in there.

Thom, meanwhile, happily gnaws at Adam's fingers.

Lucky for Adam, Alanna is feeling talkative.

And very, very responsible for her actions.

"If he goes back on his promise," she says, "there's something I'm going to ask you to do."

Adam nods, watching her even more closely.

"Do you think he will?"

Alanna swallows.

She remembers the look in her brother's eyes when they first discussed this. With that in mind, it's hard to say no. Yet there's something, the part of her he's burned before, that's insisting she'd be a fool not to question his sincerity.

"I don't know," she replies at last. "But if he does, I'm going to ask you to take it from him once he's on Earth."

There's little emotion on her face, but Adam knows her well enough to see how much the words cost Alanna. She wants to trust Thom. Desperately.

Adam doesn't say anything, whatever he may think of the situation. But he runs his free hand down her cheek, and leans in for a kiss.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

Thom, this Thom, anyway, isn't waiting any longer and, having given up on his father's fingers as a tasty treat, has decided that his mother's hair is his new toy.

"We will."

He says he's going to give it to Lucifer. In exchange for something, but what?

They'll cross that bridge when they come to it, too. For the briefest of moments, she finds herself wondering which would be the better option.

"I'll ask Jon to try and find him again, see if he was serious about passing on what he knows."

She takes a deep breath and lets it out as a laugh, working her son's finger out of a tangle.

"I'm not your personal slobber receptacle, my lad."

Adam hesitates, but nods, and turns his attention to Thom.

"I think he has other ideas. It's possible he's hungry."

In fact, Adam can't remember when they ate last.

"Well."

She glances at Grace, then up at the sky. Sunset isn't far away, and the clouds on the horizon are shot through with crimson and gold.

"We could go rescue Jamie from what has undoubtedly become a lecture on different types of grapes, and see about supper." The smile she gives him is almost shy. "It's been a long day. I wouldn't mind retiring early."

It's funny how quickly shy can become saucy.

"I'm sure that Jamie would be ever grateful."

Adam coughs, and looks at the kids. How early can they understand words, anyway?

"I think that might be beneficial for your health."

Standing, Alanna scoops Grace into her arms and begins unceremoniously kicking things into their bag.

"I agree." Now she looks downright wicked. "With every fiber of my being, I agree."

She's incorrigible.

There's something of a wicked look in Adam's smile as he picks up a nearby basket of apples and the blanket that had been so carefully spread on the grass.

"Besides, I'm sure Myles won't mind watching the other two as well," he laughs, as they walk out through the orchard.

Alanna glances down at Grace and Thom, who appear to be torn between hunger and sleepiness, and smiles.

"No, I don't think that will be a problem."

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