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Aurin holds his mother's hand as she leads him from the street to his aunt and uncle's house. He's been here only a couple of times, and can't remember most of them distinctly; they're sort of awkwardly related, his dead father's half-brother and the wife thereof. But now they have a baby parunia, and that means there is a dragon related to Aurin who is not too far from his age, only thirty-one years younger. This is apparently the sort of relation that it will be particularly enriching for Aurin to meet. They can do this now instead of waiting a month, because parunias don't die when they're babies; this one is safe, unlike the miscellaneous cousins on his mother's side he's never met because they are all in too much danger to get attached to (and have all succumbed to that danger). So here they are. Even though it was a very long flight and he couldn't ride his mother for takeoff and landing when she had to be a heron, only for the middle part.
Alys knocks on the door.
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The silver baby discovers a use for his mysteriously nonfunctional wings: if he shakes himself just right, they flop out and encumber his opponent! Ha! Take that, suddenly-wing-draped red baby!
on-my-word
Avar teleports in. He looks unhappy.
He arrives near the red baby, and crouches down to say hello to her.
on-my-word
He laughs softly. "That's very impolite," he reprimands. "Go on and play now."
And he straightens up again and goes to, first of all, give his wife a heartfelt hug.
And he straightens up again and goes to, first of all, give his wife a heartfelt hug.
greatcomposure
"Had your think, did you?" she asks quietly. "Piro called. He said they haven't found much; the baby's father saw her egg taken away by someone he couldn't describe clearly, and that's as much as they know."
on-my-word
"Yeah."
Avar sighs.
"...You wouldn't even consider it, would you. A - a house, I mean, for the baby. For our baby."
Avar sighs.
"...You wouldn't even consider it, would you. A - a house, I mean, for the baby. For our baby."
on-my-word
"That's... about what I thought, yes. I, ah, considered it," he admits. "But. Well. He's still our baby." Avar takes a deep breath. "I'll look into finding somewhere to move."
greatcomposure
She hugs him some more. The baby climbs out from between them and settles onto his father's shoulder.
on-my-word
"I could never live with myself if I abandoned you," he murmurs. "Either of you. Dear Magister. And our little - our little climbing menace, now."
Colla doesn't say anything about this conversation, though she hears parts of it. She just finishes unpacking the kitchen and works on getting something more substantial than oatsnacks and fruit on the table for her baby and her guests.
on-my-word
The family settles in with their generous host. Koridaar and Avar both contribute uncomplainingly to the unpacking and groceries and assorted house chores. Avar looks into moving; Koridaar watches the children.
After a few days, Piro calls again, making no mention of the problem, apparently having allowed himself to assume that his grandson has been shuffled off to a shren house and can safely be erased from his picture of the family.
"I think we need to talk," says Avar, and he teleports to Dragon Island.
Their conversation quickly gets loud. Well, half of it does. Avar's anger is small, quiet, intensely focused; he shifts to his human form and speaks in a near-whisper, forcing the roaring Piro to lower his head and his voice if he wants to hear his son speak.
The parts clearly audible to passersby include Piro saying things like "I'll not have my name touch that creature!"
After a few days, Piro calls again, making no mention of the problem, apparently having allowed himself to assume that his grandson has been shuffled off to a shren house and can safely be erased from his picture of the family.
"I think we need to talk," says Avar, and he teleports to Dragon Island.
Their conversation quickly gets loud. Well, half of it does. Avar's anger is small, quiet, intensely focused; he shifts to his human form and speaks in a near-whisper, forcing the roaring Piro to lower his head and his voice if he wants to hear his son speak.
The parts clearly audible to passersby include Piro saying things like "I'll not have my name touch that creature!"
The jade representative, concerned that this could escalate, nips out to Corenta and comes back with a young jade dragon, who adopts her natural form as is customary once on Dragon Island and sits nearby, uncomfortable but willing to do as Eiaa asks.
on-my-word
Of the two of them, Avar is angrier. Piro... Piro is a little afraid, especially as Avar continues to stand firm.
Eventually Avar resumes a normal speaking volume. "If you are determined to destroy yourself this way, old man, then so be it. Take your name back and keep it with my blessing."
Piro gives a slow nod. "What shall we...?"
"No teleportation," Avar suggests, with an icy smile. "You won't have to worry about it for much longer than a tick, anyway. Might as well be something I was going to do already."
"Very well," says Piro.
"Consider it done," says Avar, and he teleports away.
Piro is not all that angry anymore. He is sad, and tired. Grieving.
Eventually Avar resumes a normal speaking volume. "If you are determined to destroy yourself this way, old man, then so be it. Take your name back and keep it with my blessing."
Piro gives a slow nod. "What shall we...?"
"No teleportation," Avar suggests, with an icy smile. "You won't have to worry about it for much longer than a tick, anyway. Might as well be something I was going to do already."
"Very well," says Piro.
"Consider it done," says Avar, and he teleports away.
Piro is not all that angry anymore. He is sad, and tired. Grieving.
on-my-word
Avar quietly reports to his wife that he has repudiated his line name. Or his line name has repudiated him. No more Avarpiro, in either case.
He supposes he should pay Alys a visit, too. For that and other reasons. Find out where she falls on the question of the little climbing menace.
He supposes he should pay Alys a visit, too. For that and other reasons. Find out where she falls on the question of the little climbing menace.