Penryn bit her lip, standing still standing close to Grimult although he had released her from his grasp. “We are very tired,” she added, hoping he did not find her rude. It was the truth, but was not the sole reason she had said it. “I am not so foolish to think we can make any further journey tonight, and I would like to see your home.” She managed a small smile, one that hopefully resembled something encouraging, and pulled her borrowed shawl more tightly about herself.
There was no point in denying it was cold, and Rezen nodded his head, seemingly satisfied. “Right.”
And with a deep breath, he opened the door and disappeared within.
The wind caught it and slammed it shut behind him with far greater force than he doubtlessly intended, and Penryn stared at it. Too many feelings tugged at her in opposition, and she sank back against her husband with a sigh, letting her forehead rest against his upper arm. A sprinkling came from above and his wing extended, shielding her from the worst of it as he drew her further into the alcove, away from the resuming shower. “My parents are in there,” she told herself, wishing the words would settle over her with something more akin to comprehension.
“Aye,” Grimult agreed, pulling her nearer and allowing his hand to brush against her, both for warmth and for comfort.
It dropped away just as suddenly when the door pulled open, a woman standing there, her eyes wide and frantic. She was short in stature, less slender than Penryn knew herself to be, but there was something about the set of the eyes, the curve of the lips...
While there could be doubt to the father, there was no denying her mother.
Who already wept even as she stumbled out of the door.
Rezen stood behind her, his hand outstretched as if he had tried to contain her but to no avail, the woman breaking free and coming to stand before Penryn, her eyes full of wonder.
Even as tears already coated her cheeks.
“Are you really here?” she asked, hands reaching out, fingers trembling, before settling on Penryn’s cheeks.
Her throat was tight, as if rather than gentle touches, instead they had found their way about her throat and squeezed with all their might. “I am,” she confirmed, her voice feeling like it was coming from very far away.
She had dreamed of this. Had wept for it, throughout the years, when she had come to realise that other people got to stay with those they were born to. But not her. She was never supposed to have experienced this, it was forbidden, and yet...
It was wonderful.
“I always tried to imagine what you looked like,” her mother confessed, strained though the words came out through the veil of her own emotions. “My sweet girl.”
And her own tears fell freely, and suddenly the hands shifted and she was pulled into a fierce embrace, and if they both cried, then that was all right, surely that was all right, for just a little while to be and to feel and...
Suddenly there were more arms, strong and masculine, yet unfamiliar to her as she forced herself to look up. And Rezen was there, his own eyes misted with moisture, as he pulled both wife and daughter close.
And it was so clear from his expression that he had longed to do that since the moment he had seen her, but for her sake, had resisted.
She bit her lip, ducking her head so she would not have to see him, would not have to acknowledge the bolt of shame through her for her doubts.
She did not know how long they remained there, her mother the first to pull back, to wipe swiftly at her eyes. “You’ll catch your death out here,” she insisted, suddenly shooing and urging them both inside, curious eyes landing on Grimult for a moment before she closed them all in and latched the door firmly behind her.
The layout to the dwelling was not dissimilar to Braun and Milsandra’s. Somehow smaller in its dimensions, with fewer cushions about the floor, the benches not polished to quite the same shine as in the other home, but no less inviting. Rather than partitions, wooden walls had been fully erected with doors in between, with latches and locks. Penryn stared at them perhaps a moment too long, finding them strange and unnatural in a place like this. Those who clung to the old ways did so because they continued to feel the connection to the sea, or so she had been taught. That surely did not include doors and locks to keep it all away.
Her mother went toward the door, opening it fully, her smile bright as she waved them inward. Rezen was the one to give them pause, holding up a hand. “There is something you must know first.”
Penryn hesitated, the dread already pooling within her. It seemed inevitable that something would interfere, would keep something so good and perfect from truly being hers. But she could not shy away from it all the same, so she steeled herself and gave Rezen her full attention.
“There are more to our household,” he blurted, his eyes locked firmly to hers. Her smile faltered, and she swallowed reflexively. That was good, she told herself. They had gone on to have more fledglings to replace the one they had lost, fulfilling a dream postponed too long.
“How fortunate for you,” she managed to get out, thinking it sounded rather genuine, at least to her own ears, although there was all the more sorrow for her. Not that she wished them to be lonely, to have spent the years solely pining for the child they could not
