For want of heirs.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

2nd Fall, 512 A.V. Hodei was sick. This made her ill-tempered, and worried Sama'el. She wouldn't stand up, and so he was on the ground next to her, feeding her strips of raw meat from a rabbit he had killed earlier. This only mollified her a bit, and he assumed that whatever sort of pride a raptor might have was bruised by this inability to hunt on her own. Bits were shared with the bear cub too, if only to keep him from getting too close to the kestrel, who might take out his eye for his playfulness and curiosity. The bear cub was careful of his father's fingers, but Hodei's beak was less discriminating, and so he was more wary in feeding her. When it seemed she had enough, he gave over the rest to his ursine son, though he kept one eye on him too. Bones were sometimes an issue. But if Hodei was going to be earthbound for a while, he didn't want her getting too fat to fly. Once she was fed, she was a bit calmer, drowsing a little. She seemed to trust that her safety wasn't in question with Sama'el right there watching over her, and that was a good sign. If only Raiha would come to Endrykas and see his progress -- well, once Hodei was healed, anyway. He wiped the rabbit blood from his hands onto a rag, and then stroked her feathers in those particular ways he had found to soothe her. He had gotten away with only a few faint scars for the development of their relationship, and he counted himself lucky. There had been many lessons learned from Oriana's curse, but one of them was to be doubly sure he took good care of the kestrel. The last thing he needed was Eywaat showing up to take issue with him. Once she was somewhat charmed by his attentions, he gave a careful glance to the bear cub to make sure he was eating safely, and then began to carefully examine her legs and feet. While he wasn't an expert with raptors the way he was with horses, he had been asking questions of Raiha whenever he was in Riverfall, and those of his brethren among the Watch who hawked, and he had picked up a thing or two. When he found the small corn on her foot and the faintly feverish feel to it, he surmised it was... "Bumblefoot." She was doing the right thing for herself, staying off it. But he needed Denen's help to do anything for her other than keep her fed and watered. He picked up a small rock and tossed it at Denen's tent. The healer couldn't hear, but he would notice the thunk against the heavy fabric that kept out the weather. "We'll fix you right up, sky lady," he crooned. She ignored him for the most part.

[Denen Sunsinger]

There was no word for the amount of relief that Denen felt in being part of a recognized Pavilion once more. Though Denen had not been alone for most of his time exiled from the Brokensong Pavilion, he felt the heavy weight of Drykas guilt in being expelled from his family. To be accepted as Sam's family was a welcome comfort. However, Denen had more than himself to worry about. His niece, Sandar, was completely reliant upon him for husband and family. She was, like him, without a father. But Denen had an advantage, and that advantage happened to be throwing pebbles at his tent. He looked up from the tiny bunny huddled sleepily in his lap and set the little creature inside its crate. Closing the lid on the top, he pushed aside the tent flap and bent to scoop up the rock that Sam had thrown. He bounced it in his palm as he made his way over to the trio. “Are you going to let him treat me like that, pretty baby? Calling me like some sort of slave?” He signed to the cub, while tsking the father. He scooped the little fellow out of his father's arms and planted a kiss on his head, before chucking the stone at Sam, though hardly with enough force to do any damage. He flopped down next to Sam and hugged the squirming cub close, before he leaned in to offer Sama'el a kiss. It was only when he drew back that he managed a look of alarm. “Is that my bunny?”

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sama'el brought up his arm to strike the stone away, but it still hit him. Thankfully, it wasn't thrown hard enough to do much damage. The bear cub didn't seem to understand the grassland sign, but it was as comfortable with Denen as it was with Sama'el, so it didn't really matter in the end. Sama'el leaned in to kiss Denen. Instinctively now, he kept his head turned toward Denen so he could read his lips, hands making the supporting signs for clarity's sake. "Of course not. Wild one. Stringy next to yours, which will never be safe if Hodei sees it outside the tent. Fat little thing. But she's sick now... bumblefoot. I'm keeping her fed, but I need something to cleanse her feet." He carefully took Hodei's foot and opened her wicked talons to show Denen where the little, feverish bump had formed. "It's an infection... I'm not sure what herbs to use. Can you help?" Of course, it was entirely possible Denen would cheat and use the grace that Rak'keli had granted him to help the little hunter.

[Denen Sunsinger]

Turning his eyes up to Sam, he smirked. He murmured nothings against the cub's head and kept him cuddled close. Slender, nimble fingers scratched behind a rounded ear, and the cup squawked happily. Denen lingered against the kiss, while smiling to himself. “I am teasing,” he answered with one hand. “I just put the bunny away.” His gaze flickered to the bird in question. “Which reminds me: could you make a little harness for him? I want to be able to let him graze in my tent. I thought perhaps I could stake him out like the nanny.” He studied the talon as Sam lifted it, wrinkling his nose. He was admittedly poorly experienced as far as animals were concerned, and wasn't overly fond of the idea of dealing with the injured bird. But it was, after all, one of the gods' creations, and he would do what he could. “I would normally use garlic or ginger,” he answered, “But I fear she might take off a finger. Mine are not as thick as yours.” He scooted closer to Sam, in his element now, and eyed Hodei warily. “But if you can keep her still, I should be able to heal her. It does not seem to be too severe for me, yet.” He tugged the scarf out of his hair and dangled it before the cub as a plaything to keep him distracted while Denen worked.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sama'el nodded. "I have some leather I can cut down and plait into something like a harness, I think." He thought about it for a moment, knowing he would have to get it tight enough the rabbit couldn't slip out of it, but not so tight as to be uncomfortable. Smiling, he nodded again, enough of the seed of the idea as to how he would go about it that he could focus on Hodei now. As much as he wanted to know how to fix things himself, he supposed it wouldn't be right to be negative about a gift from Denen's patron goddess. "I will keep her calm," he said and signed. "Just be gentle. She isn't tame." That said, he made soothing noises at the raptor, stroking her feathers in a manner that always kept her near comatose with pleasure. He hoped that Denen was quick and easy, and that Hodei didn't take off one of his fingers if the sensation of healing surprised her. Then again, an animal might be more sanguine about divinity than a man.

[Denen Sunsinger]

While the baby gnawed on his scarf, he focused himself, closing his eyes a moment to gather the force needed to utilize the blessing of the gentle goddess. The Mark glowed bright on his arm, and he bit his lower lip in focus as he extended his hand and pressed gentle fingers to the swollen appendage. All the while, he prayed silently that he'd keep all of his fingers. He liked having all ten of them. For several, tense moments, his hand lingered there, the Mark cleansing the infection from Hodei's talon. When at last he drew his hand away, he gave a sigh and shook himself, plucking the furry baby back up into his lap. “She should be all right now. Poor dear.” He gently pulled the scarf away from the cub and wound it about his head as he might his own. “Oh, gods! You look just like me! I am so proud!” He signed. He knew the cub didn't understand, but it amused him. But after a moment, he grew serious, and fiddled with Sam's rough fingers, before signing against his lover's palm. “Dearest, I need to ask you something.”

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sama'el held his breath while Hodei blinked sleepily and righted herself, testing out her feet. Content, she flapped her wings and beat the air until she was aloft and found the bit of the tent frame he had reinforced to perch upon, whereupon she fell back asleep, crop still full of lovely meat. Since Sama'el had spent so much time with her, fed and trained her, cared for her and bound her into his personal Web, she seemed as bound as the Striders, not needing to be tethered. She always came back. He let out the breath he had been holding and sneaked a kiss to Denen's shoulders while he played with the cub, but as soon as Denen turned back with that serious expression, he was all attentive. "Thank you," he said, because Denen had fixed something for him in an instant that might have taken much longer, and caused little Hodei great distress. "What is it?"

[Denen Sunsinger]

He watched the bird fly off, relieved to see she seemed better already, and silently thanked his goddess for small wonders. The short kisses delighted him, and he leaned against Sam as he spoke now. He wanted to tread the subject carefully, given the nearness of Issima's death. But the Sunsingers had been raised up once more, and an Ankal was not an Ankal until he had wives. “It is about Sandar, actually,” he began. “My father has died, and my eldest brother has taken his place as Ankal. He will not allow her back unless she bows to my father's dying wishes and...marries a boorish, old warrior.” His fine brow pinched, dark hair dancing against it, as he'd left his scarf for the cub to play with. “She has refused, and is as I once was. Without a Pavilion. With our own coming together, you are in need of a wife. I know it is not ideal, but I beg you not to leave my kinswoman to such shame.” Denen was, for every one of his many oddities, perhaps the most attached to the traditions of their people. The fear that his niece might die husbandless—now that she was in his care—weighed heavily on his shoulders. It was his duty now to see to it that she found a fitting husband, and he could think of none better than his own. “Sama'el, I would like to offer Sandar to you as a wife. We have spoken of it, and she agrees. I do not have much to give as way of a dowry, but...everything I have is yours. My niece is young and strong. She will make a good wife.” The young healer was very much relying on Sam's love for him and his understanding of the need to continue his Pavilion. Such could not be done with three blood brothers and no wives. He hugged the cub to his stomach now, rubbing his belly. “Please, Sam. At least consider it.”

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sama'el was prepared to harbor Sandar, of course, but it truly hadn't occurred to him to marry her. Not with Denen so close to him, and with Issima so far. But Denen had logic on his side, logic and mercy. Sandar had been a bit obnoxious at first, but had become less so after traveling with them and sharing hardships. He was not adverse to the idea, per se, but there were other considerations. "I am inclined to agree," he said and signed slowly, "but what of my curse? Oriana will return in the Summer to judge me, and she was cryptic about future children. Would it be right to risk her dying as..." He looked down for a moment, then back up into Denen's eyes. "As Issima did." Thankfully, Denen couldn't hear the break in his voice. Nearly a season passed, and he was not nearly whole. "I could marry her for her protection, and not consummate..." But there was a note of doubt in his voice. For all her faults, Sandar was beautiful -- she was a Brokensong, after all -- and he was a man with a man's desires.

[Denen Sunsinger]

Denen brushed back Sam's hair from his eyes. He knew he was asking a lot, but he could see no other choice. Sam was, after all, his provider, too, and he knew that the young Ankal would take good care of his niece. Better than anyone else he knew. He smoothed his slim, herb-tinged fingers over Sam's shoulder. He did not have to hear the break to know it existed. He knew Sam better than he knew anyone else. "She will rule in your favor, heart, have faith. You are a good father." Saying this, he placed the cub in Sama'el's lap. "She might die even without the curse, Sam. My mother died. Many mothers die from bringing life." Even though his words were silent, his features spoke bounds of compassion. "If she catches pregnant, we will watch her closely. I..." His hands faltered. Guilt weighed heavily on him. He knew he might have been able to save Issima if only she hadn't wandered away. She had bled out when he might have prevented it. "Sama'el, I swear I will do everything to prevent you from losing another bride."