He was right to be concerned. His fingers slipped on the tiles of the roof as he scrambled for a handhold, his heart in his throat. He reached up wildly, trying to find anything to keep himself from falling, and his grasping fingers were caught in a callused hand. He was pulled up, and when his heart finally stopped trying to leap from his throat, he met Finne's eyes.

"Why?" said Finne, looking irritated,"Why Aleci?"

Something about the question was very familiar. Too familiar, he thought, but he refused to calculate why.

"Were you up here before?" said Aleci, curious.

The villa's chimney cap was an ornate thing, serving as both decoration and keeping birds and the weather out of the chimney. As a child it served as a perfect place to hide away from his father, the shade from the cap kept the afternoon sun of his head. The little collection of stones he'd placed around the cap was there, but the two small pots placed under the cap were new.

Finne stared at him, and said nothing. Aleci sighed, deciding to drop the topic, he made his way to the chimney, arms held out for balance.

"Is this yours?" said Aleci, pointing to the pots, "What is it?"

He looked at the pots' contents, confused at what was in them. At first, he assumed it was some sort of plant Finne wanted to grow. If he had wanted to garden they had plenty of room. But it wasn't filled with dirt. There were two linen cloth bags filled with seeds in each pot. One of them, the rightmost one, looked to be sprouting, a peek of faint green through the half opened bag.

"You like children?" said Finne, looking at the sprouting pot with an odd expression on his face.

Aleci frowned at the question, "You mean, Maera's boy?" he said, hoping he could talk about the odd scene he'd witness, "I don't mind. He can live here, were you concerned about that?"

Finne let out a long breath. "Yes... no." he said, confusing Aleci further by gesturing towards the pots, "Wheat," he said pointing to the left pot, and to the right, "Barley."

Aleci stared between the two, uncertain as to why the pots had anything to do with Maera's grandson, "I don't understand."

Finne's mouth twitched, he crossed his arms, tapping his foot in an agitated rhythm. "Do you know?"

"No!" exclaimed Aleci, "What is this?"

"Barley," said Finne again, slowing his voice as if he was talking to a small child, "is boy. Wheat is girl. It-" he indicated to his stomach, "is boy."

"Oh," said Aleci, a strange ringing in his ears, he licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry, "You're pregnant?"

"Yes. Pregnant," said Finne, rolling his eyes, as if this whole explanation made sense all along.

He wasn't sure if Finne looked pleased or not with the news. Aleci approached him hesitantly, holding out both arms. For a moment he thought Finne would turn away but he returned the hug. As usual, he pulled away first.

"How?" said Aleci, looking at the pots with a frown, "How do you know?" Finne shrugged."I've never hear of this," Aleci insisted.

"You," said Finne, and he twitched his fingers, cracking his knuckles before moving further away from Aleci, "Never... need knowing." There was that undercurrent of nervous pacing energy again.

Perhaps Finne had suspected all the while and it was just something mothers do? Hadn't his own mother had her fair share of... he swallowed, and closed the distance between them.

"I never needed to know," he agreed. Finne refused to meet his eyes so he leaned forward, testing his balance to see Finne better. "But I am very happy Finne," he dared to touch Finne's face, and kept his words soft and low, "Are you... are you not?"

If he had been a better man he would have known sweeter things to say, and as it was, Finne did not answer him, except to take Aleci's hand away from his cheek. But he did held on to it, which was something. He supposed he would have to ask Maera to make sure Finne did. They sat there in silence for a while watching wind blowing in the distant vineyards before Finne let go of Aleci's hand, standing up and dusting off his clothes.

There was a mischievous look on his face when he said, "Need help?" gesturing towards the balcony below.

It occurred to him later that night, that he never managed to ask Finne about his odd reaction to Maera's grandson. Maera had simply been ecstatic by the news and the entire dinner they two of them had a conversation so rushed Aleci could barely understand the words being thrown about. But Finne seemed reassured, so he took it as a good sign.

He even shook Aleci wake and waited for him to get dress before they both wandered over to the training grounds. Mercus was talking to Maera's grandson. The little boy sitting on the fence, was showing Mercus something he was holding out, and as Aleci and Finne approached the pair, he could make out the shape of a small sword. Mercus snapped into attention when he saw them, greeting both Aleci and Finne.

The boy looked at Mercus, then at the two of them, and looking as if it physically pained him, said, in one of those high childlike voices, "Good morning, Dominus Aleci." His gaze flickered to Finne, and then away.

He spoke in the same accented tones as Maera, though it wasn't as obvious. How did he grew up in Imruk if Maera fled the place?

"Good morning," said Aleci, as pleasantly as he could given the cheek of the boy. "What's your name?"

The boy glanced at Finne, then at the sky before sighing deeply, "Olus." he said, then adding, a stubborn tilt of his chin, "Dominus Aleci." Olus sniffed, „Athair wouldn't let you wear that."

„Athair," said Finne, sweetly, „Isn't here. I thought Maera told you to stay in her rooms."

„She's asleep and she snores," said Olus, sheathing the sword on his belt, swinging his legs back and forth. „You sleep in the same room with her. You'll be dying to leave too."

Mercus frowned. He wasn't the only one, thought Aleci, bemused at the impropriety. Shouldn't Olus have greeted Finne? Maera would surely have told her daughter such basic niceties. Then it occurred to him that Olus was at that age where one loved being rebellious and his mother had indeed passed away.

„I won't train with you," said Finne, turning away. „Go back before Maeara finds out you've left."

This got a reaction from Olus, who jumped off from the fence, running to stand in front of Finne, „But that's not fair, we've always done this! Every morning!" he scowled, stomping his feet, "You promised!"

„I promised you I'd find you, and I did. But Maera's right. You need rules and structure. Go back to her rooms."

„But you didn't even find me!" as he spoke the boy's voice became shriller and shriller, there was an angry glint in his green eyes.

Finne breathed deeply, crouching down to look at the boy, putting a hand on Olus's shoulder, „Look, we can be together, and happy, or together and unhappy. You choose."

„You're a filthy adult-ter-ess!" screamed Olus, shaking off Finne's hand before storming away.

Finne watched him go, teeth clenched. "No." he said when Mercus stepped up, "I... not today."

He stalked off, back to the villa.

"Did you understand what they said?" said Aleci, hopeful that Mercus at least understood the furious exchange.

"I don't know, Domnus Aleci," said Mercus, frowning. "Whenever we spoke it was in High Imrukian. Finne said he wanted to, so I didn't ask further."

Well, that just lead to more unanswered questions, but at least this next one might lead to something useful, "What did you and Olus talk about?" said Aleci.

"Oh?" said Mercus, "His sword. He says he's better with throwing knives. He says he can beat me." Mercus shook his head in amusement, "I used to be that confident in my skills," he paused, "Maybe he thought he could challenge Finne to duel with that sword of his and got told no. I wouldn't duel a child with a sharpened sword. No one in their right mind would."

Olus, Aleci thought wryly, was precisely the son his father wanted. And his father was precisely the type of man to duel a child with sharpened swords, he knew from personal experience. He bid farewell Mercus and made his way back to the villa for breakfast.

Most mornings he had never paid close attention to Imrukian conversations between Maera and Finne because he could barely keep up with the exchange. When he and Finne had spoke together it was more halting and slow, just instructions and simple plans. Maybe Finne would appreciated it if he tried harder? So lost in his thought he tripped over the black tom sunning himself on a patch in front of the door.

This resulted in a chaotic tumble as the tom darted to his feet and Aleci tripped on the cat's bulk, somehow landing in a bush. "Why?" he demanded, rubbing his toe.

The tom hissed, and Aleci decided, against all reason and logic to crouch down and snarl back. Then he came to his senses as the sounds of an argument drifted from the open kitchen window.

„Edon needs to learn that you're not a servant he can bully. I'm— what I did not imply you were a servant or a slave! I'm saying—"

„You imply I was terrible at raising him!"

There was a lot of the word „you" being said. So it was a lecture. Aleci made a note to ask what the word was for pregnancy in Imrukian.

„You were young, you had no mother or grandmother to guide you. I insist you stand your ground on this and demand an apology."

„He won't say sorry. His father never did."

There was the sounds of shuffling, and he recognized it by now as Finne frantically pacing.

„He said sorry when we were traveling. He's not his father. You have to stand firm—"

„I am firm!"

There was a very loud clatter, and Aleci winced at the sound of whatever it was broke into pieces. Maera voice though, was as calm as he'd ever heard her.

„You are well within your rights to admit he hurt you with his words and you'd like an apology."

There was a thud, like someone sliding to the ground. Aleci winced in sympathy, he knew that sound well enough to know that it usually came from one's knees giving out. In his case it was the wine, but in Finne's case... he didn't know.

„Edon's right. I did lie to him. Maybe we should go home."

„You have to take care of yourself! How would you even find work in Imruk? Where would you even live?"

„I'll manage."

„Aleci is a decent man. Why do you suddenly want to go back?"

„Because!" Then a very long breath, „Just because it's a boy doesn't mean it's a boy."

„One problem at a time now."

The word Edon sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place where. Aleci hesitated, deciding to speak up on the whole matter, at the very least it would reassure Finne wouldn't it? The last thing he wanted was to watch helplessly as Finne paced around in one of those relentless circles. So he scowled at the tom as a future warning before standing up and dusting his hands. The kitchen had no door, so he made sure to clear his throat loudly as a warning.

"Good morning, Maera," he said, and the older woman wiped her hands and sighed deeply before turning to look at him. "Can you please tell Finne, he needn't be concerned? I am very— I am willing to listen as long as he wants. Even if I don't quite understand."

Maera looked exasperated when she translated, and Aleci took it as a victory.

„What did I tell you?"

„I just want to go home," Finne looked around in the kitchen, running his hands through his hair, „I'm going mad."

„Going home solves nothing. Out of the two of us, I know that best." There was a soft, far away look on Maera's face, „You must look forward, Finne."

For the first time he felt like an intruder in his own home as the two of them simply ignored him, locked in a sort of mutual commiseration. Pregnancy was horrible, he witnessed that well enough with his mother, but this didn't feel the same. It was something else and he lacked the understanding of Imrukian to untangle the threads. He tip-toed out of the room, uncertain if he should break the silence. Perhaps he could write to Brissa and ask her what and Edon was? Then he nearly slapped himself on the face a moment later, furious at his stupidity. Why didn't he think of Olus?