XXI. Same Blood

Aichlan chewed on the tip of a pipe Odell had gifted him, watching as Ashe nursed his infant son. He was filled with a bevy of complex emotions, feelings he did not even have the faintest idea of how to sort through. Before him, this beautiful elf woman sat with his child in her arms. They were now bound for life, a concept both exciting and terrifying to Aichlan. How would he raise his son? Would he do as his own father did? Or would he strive to be everything Garrick was not, to show warmth and support his son’s autonomy? Did he even have a choice?

No man truly set out to be an asshole towards their child, but when venturing forth to virgin territory, it is far too easy to fall back on what one knows rather than blazing new paths. Aichlan did not have the faintest idea of how to rear a son, and seeing as this was Ashe’s first, she was likely as clueless as he was. Neither of them even had the luxury of their own parents to fall back on for advice. In fact, Aichlan did not know anyone who had children, at least, no one he would feel comfortable taking guidance from. Then there was Garrick, how could he not show himself at the birth of his grandson?

Aichlan suddenly recalled the nightmarish visions Senka had subjected him to, and the revelation that the spirit of Garrick might not have been all that it appeared. Such a thing was unconscionable, Garrick had been exactly as Aichlan remembered, unless someone had managed to get inside of his head to pilfer memories, it was impossible for it to be a fake. Something else must have happened to keep his father away, hopefully, nothing the old man could not handle.

“Aichlan dear, mind gettin’ the door?”

He looked up to see Ashe shooting him a somewhat annoyed look. “Huh?”

An impatient rapt at the door sounded through the chambers again, and Ashe jerked her head in that direction. Aichlan nearly fumbled his pipe, relieved that it was not lit, and sprung up from the chair. The impatient caller knocked again as Aichlan crossed the room and pulled the doors open. He was met by Clarissa, Siegrun of all people, and Ashe’s friend Hratchouhi; whose hand was poised to pound upon the doors once more. Without so much as a hello, the three women bustled passed Aichlan and joined Ashe on the bed. Slightly irritated at the interruption, Aichlan closed the doors and returned to his seat by the window, as the women excitedly unloaded gifts for the new mother and child.

“How are ye feelin’ Ashe?” Hratchouhi asked as she tickled the infant’s toes.

“Sore.” Ashe chuckled as she lifted her son to her shoulder and burped him. “But I s’pose that’s tae be expected.”

“I can try and ‘eal you again, dzough it won’t do much good.” Clarissa sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “Some dzings can only be ‘ealed with time I am afraid.”

Aichlan watched as the woman talked amongst themselves, simultaneously glad that Ashe had such a supportive network of friends, and also a bit jealous. Then there was Siegrun, he could not help but feel the woman was out of place. There was no reason for her to want to be around the grandson of the man that killed her mother. While Aichlan did not get the impression that she had something sinister in mind, he was guarded nonetheless. The woman was an enigma, how she haunted him like a shadow, fleeing with a coquettish smile whenever he caught her lingering gaze. Then there was her request to the mage, Senka; why would she wish to see his father?

Siegrun cleared her throat and tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear. Aichlan jumped with a start, both at the woman’s silent approach and how she saw fit to switch her hair color from green to black and back again so arbitrarily. She was also oddly casual in her appearance, wearing a high-necked blouse with lace collar and three-quarter length sleeves. Instead of the bodice and skirt such a garment usually went with, she wore a pair of dark blue breeches and a thin belt at her waist, like a tomboy who failed to commit fully to dressing like a man. Before he could ask what she wanted, she blushed and handed him a small green jewelry box with silver ribbon.

“What is this?” Aichlan asked as he hesitantly took the present.

“I had them made with help from Admiral Donnelyn, I had three made, one for each of you.”

Aichlan slid off the ribbon and opened the package, surprised to find a silver and gold ring with emerald settings around a milky white stone. He gingerly picked up the ring, closed his eyes and placed it to his temple. Several familiar faces with dates flashed before him. Lines connected spouses and forked to children and children’s children, until the image of his own father and mother flashed before him. The line connecting them split down towards an image of himself, connected to Ashe and his own child.

Aichlan opened his eyes and looked up to Siegrun in disbelief. “How did you get a hold of this?”

Siegrun played with her hands as she avoided his eyes. “I had some help from the Admiral, who got help from Lady Templeton.”

Aichlan smiled, impressed by her resourcefulness. “That’s very kind of you, tha-“

“I know it’s not complete,” Siegrun said quickly, “But you can easily add to or replace the stone. I felt it would be best for your family to have some record of you, my mother did not leave me with a genealogy…”

Aichlan watched her with interest, she was a fascinating enigma of a woman. Her interest in both his father and his new family was confusing, particularly given that their parents killed each other. Siegrun’s brother, Izarius, had been pragmatic in settling the blood feud; his primary concern was his career. Aichlan had met him years ago, with every intention of killing him, he abandoned his post in The Order to go to Rhodarcium, and risked being executed as a deserter and dying as a disgraced oath breaker upon returning to Elysia. Yet the journey had been a long one, and when he finally met with Izarius and his figurative olive branch, Aichlan took it. Izarius was already a low-ranking general at the time, with designs on even greater status and power, designs that could be easily derailed by an honor duel gone awry. Aichlan knew his motives, and knew that the act of forgiveness was purely a ceremonial one, however, why was Siegrun trying so hard to know him? To know Garrick?

“Aichlan, honey…”

Aichlan put the ring back into its box and peered around Siegrun. “Yes?”

Ashe handed their son to Clarissa and turned an enchanting smile towards the father. “I would like a kumquat.”

Aichlan furrowed his brow in confused annoyance. “Where the hell am I supposed to get something like that?”

Ashe giggled and brushed a strand of hair from her face. “From the gardens, of course.”

“What the hell…” Aichlan grumbled and gestured towards Hratchouhi. “Have her do it, or better yet, summon a servant. That’s what they’re there for.”

“But I asked you.” Ashe said sternly. “Are ye truly so heartless tae deny yer wife and mother tae yer child such a simple request?”

Aichlan knew by the curious glint in her emerald eyes and the obstinacy of the request, that she was testing him more than anything. What he could not gather was why. Most other women he knew did such petty acts out of insecurity, but Aichlan just could not imagine Ashe being an insecure woman. His gut instinct was to deny her outright for attempting such a blatant power play.

“Which garden?” Aichlan said, cursing himself internally. “What do these things even look like?”

“Siegrun, would ye mind showin’ him?”

Siegrun blushed and cast her eyes to the floor. “Uh…sure…”

Aichlan gave Ashe a questioning look, but she only shooed him off with a smile. He turned to Siegrun, but she had already awkwardly shuffled off to the door.

Their journey through the halls was one of palpable tension and awkward silence, with Siegrun surreptitiously stealing glances at him every so often. The woman had always struck him as odd, but now that he had been able to spend time with her, Aichlan understood the queer sense of familiarity Rémann had often spoke of; a feeling Aichlan had simply dismissed as infatuation on part of the hapless squire.

“Who are you, Siegrun,” The suddenness of his query caused her to stiffen, “what do you want?”

Siegrun was silent as they wound their way through the corridors, for so long in fact, Aichlan had resigned to simply drop the matter by the time she finally answered.

“Both of our parents were giants in their own right,” she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “and I feel like both of us have had our struggles crawling out from under their shadows.”

While Aichlan could certainly empathize, he was not buying the trite you and I are the same line she was peddling. He had never heard of Siegrun Wolf-Mother, though her brother Izarius was widely known. Aichlan himself was a minor celebrity, the youngest Grandmaster of The Order in over two-hundred years. The shadows the two of them were forced to rise from were far larger than some bastard woman of some unknown man who may or may not have been part fey. Her struggles could not hold a candle to his own.

“You don’t believe me?” Siegrun said testily. “I am not a natural born warrior like my brothers, I was thrust into this position due to my parentage, I was forced to excel because it was expected of me to do so. I chose the path of a spell-blade because my skill with sword and lance left much to be desired. I wasn’t given the option to pursue the arts or literature like I wanted. The two of you chose your paths, while I wasn’t given a choice, though our destinations are the same.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Aichlan stopped, guiding her to the side. “Why do you tag along like a lost puppy? Why tell me, a man who is ostensibly an enemy, that you suck arse at combat? Is this your attempt at a trap? Are you trying to bait me into some ill-fated honor duel?”

“I don’t see you as an enemy!” Siegrun shouted, her blue eyes misting over, “I want to see you as a friend.”

Aichlan slammed his fist against the wall. “Why?”

Siegrun flinched and bowed her head. “Because, I admire you.”

Aichlan sneered, he knew of the obsession Ulrica Wolf-mother had with his father; he had heard the sordid rumors regarding the true nature of their relationship, and he dismissed them outright. Garrick was a lot of things, but he loved his wife and would never bed another woman, it simply was not in his character. If this woman wanted to rekindle what her mother and his father were rumored to have, he would have no part of it.

“I’m not interested.” Aichlan turned and left. “You should follow your brother's lead.”

Siegrun stood in the middle of the hall, trembling with anger and frustration as tears began to spill from her eyes.

“What do you think I’ve been trying to do, you ass?” she muttered under her breath.