Family Matters
© 2022 by M. Mitch Marmel

Thumbnail art by  RockBaker

Part Fifty-eight



Anastasia:

As Spring drew near and various members of the immediate family (Tessie) and the extended family (Ooo-er, Missy, and Tali, I guess) were getting closer to their time, I and certain members of the [Doe-moot] had been in consultation, planning things.

What? If you think we didn’t want to plan for this, you are, to use one of my mate’s Army expressions, “Completely off your nut, mate.”

The Regeneration has seen quite a few fawns born since Westersloe and I started revitalizing Elfhame, and we did have a number of midwives ready to paw for those who [‘Were sowed in Summer, and blossomed in Spring’]. Still, we were taken by surprise by the fact that all four of them decided to let go at once, and we had a number of midwives already engaged with expectant mothers throughout the seven villages that made up the Vale.

But we had planned for that, as well, and had already made arrangements.

Four midwives from Glenallid had been sent for, with one adept at swimming in case Ooo-er needed to have her babe in water.

The Ashearth sisters, Bridget and Trixie, had recently finished weaning their latest set of cubs. Two fine sons, which brought the number of children in the Ashearth household to six. Sylvester looked happy, proud, and exhausted all at once, but his two wives were ready to act as wet-nurses for any thirsty cubs, kitten, kits, or what-have-you.

So, things were prepared.

Which only left the question of what to do with the bucks in the family.


***


Winterbough:

“{Znzn?}”

“[Yes, Westie?]”

“{Ner jr tbvat bhgfvqr?}”

I smiled down at my son. “[Yes, Westie, it is so that we are going -]-OW!” I yelped as a doe passed me in the hallway of the Master’s Lodge and gave a clout to my head with a rolling pin as she went by. She didn’t even break stride, leaving me rubbing the sore spot.

Westie, of course, thought it was funny.

It got even funnier to him after the next two does to pass by bopped me on the head with rolling pins.

I can take the hint.

[Note appended to manuscript: “After only three hits to the head? Yes, you’re definitely progressing.”]

[Note appended to manuscript: “Shaddap.”]

Like I said, I could take the hint, so Westie and I were decamping to the [Sheaf of Arrows] for the duration; i.e., until Ooo-er, Tali and Missy had their children. From the number of roe-does and wolfesses invading the Master’s Lodge, it appeared that they thought it would take a while.

Still, it was a nice day for a walk, and although Westie looked disappointed at the lack of snow, he did demonstrate a neat trick to keep from bogging down in mud or water puddles. He’d use his ice-breath to freeze the mud solid and walk over it, looking very proud of himself.

At one point along our route, a long cart-rut had filled with muddy water. He froze it solid and slid down its length, skating on his back claws while propelling himself with broad sweeps of his wings. He seemed pleased when I applauded both his cleverness and his balance.

And made a mental note to see about getting the road repaired.

We both wiped our hooves and feet before entering the public house, and no sooner had the door closed that something hit me in the nose.

[Note appended to manuscript: “That’s not hard. Very large and easy target.”]

[Note appended to manuscript: “Shaddap.”]

Westie snickered and I glared at Bung, who was preparing to throw another one. “[Is it so, Bung, that you too are hoicking things at the nose of myself?]”

A few habitués of the bar chuckled, and one wag ventured, “[Elves do not lie, it is as the noses of all bucks of the Vale.]”

The rest laughed as he started hopping around, trying to put out the fire that kindled under one of his hooves, and Bung said, “[Elves do not lie, Honored Master, I was seeking to hit you between your antlers, as my good wife did order me to do.]”

“[And is it so?]” I asked, looking around at the floor for whatever had hit me.

Westie sniffed at a thin, oblong object, said “{Rj}” and sauntered over to move the Master’s Chair between himself and the fire while I bent down and picked up
the object.

It was . . . bread?

A piece of bread, baked to resemble a rolling-pin.

I glared at Bung, who said, “[The First-of-Eldest has had converse with my precious mate, Honored Master, and the First-of-Eldest did instruct her to make this bread in the likeness of a rolling pin, with which to hoick at the bonce of yourself in lieu of hoicking the rolling pins of wood,]” and the roebuck put a covered basket on top of the bar.

I lifted the towel covering the basket and sniffed. Hmm, roasted corn and herbs, and the toothsome scent of freshly-baked bread. Well, I had been feeling a bit peckish, so I took seisen of the basket, got a pint of plain, and went to my seat by the fire.

After warding an area and a chair for Westie so he could be comfortable, I had Bung get some fish for my ice-wyrm son’s lunch while I settled into my chair. So that Bung’s mate could report accurately back to Anastasia, I occasionally bopped myself between the antlers with the bread before eating it. I also promised myself that I would thank Anastasia for her desire to uphold Elfhamian traditions while also demonstrating her care for me, her mate.

Westie had been learning some table manners, and he held his plate in one claw while using the other to hold the fish. This was far preferable to setting the plate on the floor and devouring the fish messily.

He was on seconds when I heard the [Sheaf]’s door open, and my ears swiveled as Sixth, a pint tankard in one paw, pulled up a chair. He sat down, with Westie between us, and my sons exchanged a few pleasantries in Draconic before he said to me, “[In day’s near-maturity, father of my own small self, peace and greetings.]” He seemed a little nervous.

No prizes for guessing why.

“[Peace and greetings to you, Sixth of Our Name, and is it so that Tessie has reached her time?]”

“[It is indeed so, father of myself, that my Mate-under-the-Stars, Una, and Goodwife Fletcher did tell me in very straightforward words, punctuated as well with many buffets to my ears and head, that I should remove my small self from my abode, and having done so, my hooves have wended their way to this place, where I may enjoy a pint of plain and await what the Lady wills,]” and he scrubbed his knuckles against the back of his head.

I followed suit, as did Westie (a fact that seemed to amuse a few of the denizens of the [Sheaf]), and I said, “[It is so, Sixth of Our Name, that since the Seven Stars kindled in the sky, the does have held the act of bearing fawns to be something that bucks should not witness, and therefore they do send us away, to wait until called for.]”

Sixth gazed into the fire, and his usual smile fled. “[Surely, father of myself, it was so that your absence from our sweet and small Vale and therefore absence from my own small self’s and [Little Star’s] births caused you distress?]”

I sighed. “[Elves do not lie, son of myself, it grieved me to my heart that I could not hold you and your sister in my paws upon the day you two were born, to call you by your names and clasp you both to my heart.]” I took a sip of plain, and offered him a bread rolling pin. “[But know this, that it was needful and meet that your births be kept secret from the King-Upon-the-Mountain, lest great trouble befall both my own small self and your mother.]”

Sixth chewed the bread, his face thoughtful. “[Was it so, father of myself, that to learn so tardily of our births caused you much distress?]”

I smiled and reached behind Westie’s head to grasp Sixth’s shoulder, as one buck to another. “[It was not so, Sixth of Our Name. It was and is one of the greatest joys of my life.]” Elves Don’t Lie.

“[And Westinghouse?]” The ice-wyrm had been looking from me to Sixth.

I smiled and gave the ice-wyrm a hug. “[He is the son of myself, Sixth, as are you, and as is Dotto, and as the son of myself and Windimere shall be. You are my sons, and I shall protect and teach and help you all, until you are all grown and tread for yourselves the path the Lady has marked out for each of you.]” All three of us performed the Benedictio.

[Note appended to manuscript: “Wow, and you were accusing me and Ooo-er of being as sappy as a music hall act?”]

[Note appended to manuscript: “Don’t you have anything better to do?”]

Of course, I knew that the King and his brother the Marshal were both expert scryers, and King Adler’s eye was often bent toward Elfhame. He knew about Sixth and Stella before Prince Roland did, so it was very likely that he knew about Westie.

There was a commotion as a rolling pin suddenly apparated near the bar, whacked one roebuck smartly between his antlers, and disappeared. The buck, who I belatedly recognized as Jacobus Crackhorn, Belladonna Sumac’s mate, rubbed the spot and smiled ruefully to his drinking companions. “[It is so, my friends, that my precious mate has discovered that I have forsaken my charges, being the small, shaggy and surly ants of the Vale, so that I may take a pint of refreshment from my labors of the day. I must needs return to my herd, lest I gain more lumps on my bonce.]”

He paid for his drink and left, leaving me wondering why he seemed so happy that the dour Belladonna Sumac had chosen him.

What would the Shining Land be without some mysteries? A much poorer place, I firmly believe.

“Hello, Master.” My ears swiveled at the sound of Standard Elvish being spoken in the [Sheaf], and I looked up to see Matt standing by the mantelpiece, a pint in his paw. The bear nodded pleasantly to Sixth and Westie.

“Hello, Matt. What are you doing here?”

“Ah, well,” and he paused to take a sip of his beer, “I heard, for want of a better word, that Tali was in labor, but when I got to your house I was hit over the head and told to get lost.”

I raised my tankard in a toast. “Welcome to Elfhame.”




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