The Christmas Visitation

[Evie]

Author's note: Here's a little Christmas surprise for you all, courtesy of Cinhil Haldane, who simply won't shut up even though he's allegedly dead.

The Christmas Visitation


Christmas Day, 1464
Rhemuth Castle
Morning

Princess Cynewyn lay in her cradle in the antechamber of her Maman's apartment. She had just awakened, but having woken Maman up just a couple of hours earlier to be fed, she was not quite yet hungry. She would be very soon, but for the moment at least, she was content to lie here enjoying the flickering of the firelight reflected on the ceiling above her and the company of the shining man in the corner. He had been around, although not always in the corner, for as long as she could remember, which admittedly was not very long at all, at least not compared to the scope of eternity, but three months had been her entire lifetime thus far, not counting those long weeks of formation before her birth.

Maman couldn't see the shining man, but she could. He liked to stand near her cradle, sometimes very late at night when the rest of the castle was asleep. When he was around, she felt safe and warm, much like she did before she entered the cold, loud world of the Castle. She loved the shining man more than she loved anyone else besides her Maman.

The shining man stroked her hair with a fingertip and smiled in greeting, a tender smile that lit up his eyes as they lingered briefly on her face, then his attention turned to where Maman sat nearby, closer to the fireplace. From her vantage point, Cynewyn could only see the top of Maman's head, gleaming the same color as the firelight she saw reflected above, but Cynewyn sensed she was working on the tiny chemise again, her needle flashing in the soft light as it drew colored threads back and forth through the soft fabric. Cynewyn could feel the magic in it very faintly even from here. She could also sense a little of her Maman's intent as she moved her lips in silent prayer over the stitches. The chemise was meant for Cynewyn, to keep her safe. She knew that much. Like most babies, she had come into the world knowing many things, although she was already beginning to feel much of that knowledge starting to slip away. Soon, she might have no memory at all of this morning, much less of what magic was, or even that Maman had another name, and she would have to slowly relearn it all. The thought nearly made her cry in frustration. She didn't want to forget anything! Most of all, she didn't want to forget about the shining man.

The man glanced back down at her, the smile turning into a grin. You don't wish to forget about me? he asked. Well, that's flattering. He reached a fingertip down and touched her forehead. Done, poppet. Now you can recall me to mind anytime you feel a need to. He bent to kiss her where his fingertip had briefly landed.

The door opened, and the other dark-haired man who visited daily entered along with the younger lady who looked a great deal like Maman. She also had a baby girl, a younger infant named Nadia who was not old enough to go outside yet. Nadia was even tinier than Cynewyn.

"Good morning, ma belle," said the man who had just entered, bending to kiss Maman's hand. "I came to ask if you would like to see the Christmas Crown being lifted up in the Great Hall." He smiled at the younger lady. "And I think Cécile would like to see it also, if you have no objection to her leaving her confinement just a few days early. Healer James has already told her she is healing well enough that there should be no harm in doing so."

"Oh, why not!" said Maman, rising with a brilliant smile to hug the younger woman who looked so much like her. "I can't see the harm in that either, cherie, so long as you don't do anything to overexert yourself. Your churching is in just three days' time, after all, and this is your first Gwyneddan Christmastide." Looking up at the man, she asked, "Is the wet nurse in Cécile's room, or is Nadia in the nursery?"

"All the babies are in the nursery right now," he told her, "all except for Cynewyn. I feel for those poor nursemaids if they should decide to wake and all want feeding at once." He grinned at Maman, looking very much like the shining man in the corner. Maman laughed.

"Well, I shan't add to their work if the nursery is already full to bursting," she told him. "Cynewyn's finally fallen back to sleep, and I wouldn't want to disturb her."

"I don't mind watching her for a little while, if you would like to take your sister down to the Hall for a few minutes," said the man. "Obviously I can't feed her if she wakes up, but we should be fine for a short while without you, and if I get truly desperate before you get back, I can always bring her to the nursery myself."

"You're sure?" asked Maman, sounding a little dubious.

"Quite certain," said the man. "Go introduce Cécile to our Christmas traditions."

"All right, then," said Maman with a happy smile at her sister. "Cynewyn usually wakes up a few minutes before she is truly hungry, so that should give you enough time to get her settled into the nursery if you need to. Also, there are some breech clouts and a fresh swaddling blanket in that cabinet if you should happen to need...."

"Yes, yes!" the man said with a laugh. "Go, or you'll miss the festivities!"

#

Camber took the seat by the fire that Alixa had just vacated. He'd had a two-fold purpose for coming here. It had been entirely true that Princess Cécile had been chafing to leave her solitary confinement and go join the other ladies in the Great Hall, and Camber had also suspected that giving Alixa the opportunity to accompany her would do Cinhil's grieving young widow a world of good, for even though her own lying-in had ended two months earlier, she still tended to seek seclusion more often than not. A bit of time alone was restful to the soul, Camber knew, feeling the need for that himself, but too much of it could also turn one's thoughts more melancholy than was healthy. So the hanging of the giant Christmas Crown of evergreen branches, holly, and ivy from the beams of the Great Hall had seemed the perfect opportunity to coax Alixa out of her apartment to go join in the greater merriment around the Castle. In previous years, Alixa had enjoyed the decorating of the Great Hall the most of all of Rhemuth's Christmastide traditions.

His other reason for offering Alixa the short respite had been due to his own need for quiet and contemplation. While Alixa had been given several weeks of rest and relaxation after the birth of baby Cynewyn and now needed to ease back into the hustle and bustle of Rhemuth's social life, Camber on the other hand had been given little opportunity to rest and recover from the constant activity and horrors of the recent war. He had returned home just in time to help empower his late brother Cinhil for his victory over Prince Rémy, been sent back to the front mere days later as soon as Alixa had come through her ordeal of birthing baby Cynewyn, and even after his defeat of the Eistenmarcker seether-queen and subsequent return to Rhemuth, he'd been helping Catalina with the day-to-day governance of the kingdom while she acted as Regent awaiting their new King's final return from Kheldour.

Nicholas had finally made it home for good only days earlier, much to everyone's relief, not the least his own. Camber was already grieving the loss of one brother; he didn't even want to imagine what it would be like to grieve the loss of both. Especially given that if Colin had also died in the final days of the war, that would have left Camber as Gwynedd's Regent during the Queen's birthing ordeal and lying-in, possibly even as its King if the heir Catalina currently bore did not survive his birth. He could hardly serve as both Gwynedd's King and Alixa's consort in Joux, nor could a regent divide his time between two such distant kingdoms at once, so if that had happened, his own dreams would have died along with both of his brothers. Thanks be to Jesú that they had not!

He thought he heard a soft coo from the cradle behind him. Camber smiled as he stood to go check on his eldest brother's child.

#

The shining man had an especially mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Cynewyn cooed as he bent as if to whisper in her ear, though she only heard his suggestion within her mind.

She burbled happily up at him as she filled her diaper, the sudden exit of her bowels' contents filling her with relief, although the warm, sticky wetness under her tiny bum a moment later was less welcome. She had not minded being wet when she was still inside Maman, where it had always felt nice and warm and cozy. This, however, she knew would start off warm enough but would quickly grow cold and clammy now that it was outside of her, and she didn't like the way that it squished inside her swaddling.

The other man stood over her now. Cynewyn quite liked him also. He looked very much like the shining man, except that he was younger and more tanned from the sun, and she couldn't see through him. He also liked to hold her against his chest so she could rest her face on his shoulder, even if she sometimes spit up on it, and he whispered sweet things in her ear that she couldn't really understand yet, but she knew they were meant to be loving because she could sense love in his heart. And he loved Maman also, and cared for her in lots of tiny ways when she was too tired or distracted to care for herself. Just like Cynewyn, some days Maman cried a lot, and if the other man was here at those moments, he would hold her close also, sometimes rocking her a little bit to help soothe her just as Maman sometimes rocked Cynewyn. Other people loved Maman too, but most were too busy nowadays to visit her as often as the man did.

He bent to lift her out of her cradle, slipping one hand protectively underneath her head and the other under her wet bum. Half straightening, he paused to stare at her, an odd expression on his face. "Oh crap!" he said.

#

Camber put Cynewyn back down, noting as he did so that the thin blanket lining the cradle was also soiled. He knew he could simply bring her back to the Nursery, soiled swaddling and all, but that seemed the coward's way out, and would cause more work for Alixa when she returned to find a dirty cradle left for her.

As the baby began to fuss (small wonder, as he'd just set her back down in a puddle of her own night soil!), he retreated into Alixa's bedchamber to wash his hands at the basin and ewer as he pondered what to do. She had said something about spare breechclouts and swaddling in the antechamber cabinet as she'd been leaving, so surely a quick change was something he could manage on his own before he took Cynewyn back to the nursery, and Alixa would find everything neatly handled upon her return. He dried his hands, rolling up his sleeves in anticipation of the task ahead. How hard could changing an infant's nappy possibly be, after all?

He paused as he realized he'd never actually seen an infant's breechclout being changed before, or if he had, he'd been too young to remember the particulars of it at the time. Richeldis and Elisa were both younger than he was, but when Richeldis was born, he had still been a toddler, and by the time Elisa had come along, he'd been in training as a page and no longer sleeping in the Royal Nursery. There had once been a younger brother as well, little Christopher who hadn't survived long enough to see his third birthday, but Camber couldn't remember much about how his infant needs had been tended either.

It might not hurt to have some back-up.

As Cynewyn's fussing began to show signs of warming up to become a full cry, Camber opened the door into the corridor. Young William de Lacey, formerly the eldest of Cinhil's squires and now just days away from being knighted at Twelfth Night Court, stood just outside, guarding Queen Alixa's apartment.

Camber grinned. "How would you like a chance to well and truly earn your white belt and spurs?" he asked.

William raised his eyebrows, knowing Camber well enough to know something was up. "How so, Your Highness?"

"There's a little princess within who is in need of a chaperone, and I'm just as much in need of moral support. What, if anything, do you know about changing a baby's nappy?"

The squire laughed as he entered the room. "Very little, I'm afraid. My mother had a full quiver of children, but I'm the youngest of her brood. Are you planning on sticking me with the dirty job as a means of furthering my education, or shall I just stand nearby and cheer you on, my lord?"

Camber sighed, moving towards the cabinet. "I can't very well ask you to take on a job I'm not willing to do myself. Maybe you can bring the basin and ewer in here and set it over on that sideboard," he suggested, pointing out the one closest to the cradle, "while I rummage around in here and figure out what we're going to need."

"And shall I pour you a stiff drink once I'm back with the basin and ewer?" asked the squire, suppressing a grin.

"Go ahead and pour two," said Camber as his head re-emerged from the cabinet. "I'm sure we'll both need one once we're done. Her Wee Highness is quite fragrant." There was a small stack of folded rectangles of fabric that he surmised were meant to be the breechclouts, as well as some larger folded squares that might have been swaddling blankets. He took one of the latter and spread it out like a tablecloth onto the sideboard while William was fetching the other items.

The squire returned, placing the ewer and basin on the opposite end of the sideboard from the linen cloth Camber had just spread out. By this time, the baby princess had reached full warble, demonstrating that despite her very young age, her lungs were extremely well developed.

"All right, there's no need for such carrying-on, little lady!" said Camber as he gingerly picked up the squalling child and placed her on the linen square, giving her soiled swaddling a quick inspection so he could figure out the best way to unwrap her. Finally discovering one tucked end, he began to unravel the unhappy little bundle, doing his best to avoid smearing his work area any more than it already was in the process of doing so.

"Um, do we have someplace to put the dirty cloths?" he asked, belatedly realizing something of the sort must be around somewhere. Surely Alixa didn't simply toss such things out the window into the Molling River below!

"On it, my lord," said the squire, poking around in various cabinets and under tables until he found a lidded pail. "Annnd... success!" The fumes that arose from it when the lid was taken off convinced both men that they had indeed discovered where such soiled items were meant to go until they could be whisked off to the laundry. Evidently the chambermaid had either not emptied the pail yet that morning, or else Cynewyn had already made a contribution to it after the previous load had already been collected.

Camber swiftly threw the dirty fabric items--every single one of them--into the pail, William closing the lid on them with equal swiftness. The prince looked around wildly for a spare cloth, deciding to use the sole clean breechclout he'd retrieved from the cabinet as a wash cloth instead. "William, could you fetch another breechclout from the cabinet while I wipe Cynewyn down?" He dipped the clean cloth into the basin, wetting it and then wringing most of the water out of it one-handedly before wiping the remaining night soil off the infant's tender skin.

Mere seconds later, as William was returning with the second breech clout, Cynewyn celebrated her return to cleanliness by making like a miniature fountain, creating a large lake on top of the sideboard and a smaller waterfall over the edge of it as Camber turned the air blue with language unbecoming to any gentleman in the presence of a properly bred young lady.

#

Cynewyn beamed up at the shining man, who was doubled over in silent laughter, tears streaming down his translucent face. She cooed a little chortle that was her own version of laughter as well, because the other man was dancing around her, frantically mopping up puddles with the third man's assistance, and they both looked very funny hopping around like that.

The door opened again, and Cynewyn turned her head slightly to see Maman slip into the room, unnoticed by the other two occupants of the chamber, who were still fussing about trying to get her dry and covered up again. "Jesú, how did she have this pinned together earlier?" the dark-haired one who looked very much like the shining man was muttering as he stared down at her nappy in perplexity. "Did you happen to notice?"

"I'm afraid not, my lord," said the younger one. "Maybe if you just bundle her really tightly, we can make a mad dash for the nursery with her before she can let loose again, and let the nursemaids sort it all out. Whatever the King is paying them, I'm certain it's not enough."

Maman giggled, causing both men to turn abruptly, the older one holding her nearly dropping her in his startlement. "Bloody hell!" He raised a hand as if to run his fingers through his hair before evidently thinking better of that idea, dropping it again. "I'm sorry, Alixa. I can handle blood and gore and decapitated seether-queens, but evidently a three-month-old princess has succeeded in getting the best of me. How you manage this sort of thing singlehandedly, I've got no clue."

"It's quite alright," she assured him, her eyes dancing as she took in his disheveled appearance. "I can take it from here." Her lips twitched. "You might want to wash your cheek, mon vieux."

Cynewyn burbled happily as the nice man handed her over to Maman. He reached his other hand back up to touch his cheek, pulling his fingers away to examine the smeared substance upon them and quietly uttering a word that made Maman giggle yet again.

#

She was snug, warm, and dry again; the two men who had tried to change her nappy had both left; and Maman had resumed her place by the fireplace, settling into her comfortable chair to nurse her. Cynewyn sighed contentedly as she suckled at her mother's breast.

"You little troublemaker," whispered Maman, her voice trembling with suppressed laughter. "Evidently it's something in the Haldane bloodline. Your father would be so proud."

The shining man met his daughter's gaze, flashing her an amused grin.

He is, the man confirmed as he began to vanish to wherever it was he disappeared to whenever he wasn't popping in to check on Cynewyn. Though let's go easier on Uncle Camber next time, little poppet. We don't want to scare him off the idea of fatherhood altogether.

###

[DerynifanK]

What a delightful Christmas gift. Thank you. I love the way Cinhil still watches over his girls and also continues to prank his youngest brother.

[DerynifanK]

And I see that Cinhil has not lost his wicked sense of humor. Bet he keeps the angels in stitches

[Gilreth]

What a lovely Christmas gift. I have been somewhat lacking in replying to your story but I can promise you I have read it all. Been one of those semesters

[Jerusha]

You and Cinhil are having way too much fun, Evie, and I am so glad of it.  Merry Christmas!

[Laurna]

Lovely, Christmas story, I do hope little Cynewyn remembers the shinning man as she grows older.

[Nezz]

That was adorably sweet.

[AilsaR]

That has just given me a much-needed laugh
Hadn't been over here for quite a while, think I'm going to have to go read the one this is a spin-off from...

[Evie]

That has just given me a much-needed laugh
Hadn't been over here for quite a while, think I'm going to have to go read the one this is a spin-off from...

Welcome back! "Pawns and Queens" is now complete, so at least you won't have a long wait between chapters, and there are a few other spin-off stories as well. I'm currently in the process of writing the sequel. So there's lots of reading to catch up on in my 15th century Deryni AU.