For want of heirs.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Slowly, he nodded. "It's just, they're family, you know?" They were wives, the women who died, and mothers and sisters and cousins and nieces and aunts. Sama'el felt so powerless now, unable to save Issima, unable to banish the fear that Oriana would chain him to childlessness forever. Of course, Ronan's children would be Sunsinger children. Leto or Denen might be persuaded to father children for the good of the pavilion, but part of Sama'el might always feel that he had let them down. They were more than just family, and Denen had held Sama'el through more than one surprise attack by grief and memory. He hoped that one day he could do as much for Denen. He nodded again. "I will marry her, then." He smiled tremulously. "If she does have children, they might look a little like you. I mean, he looks just like you, but..." He grinned and coddled the spoiled little bear.

[Denen Sunsinger]

Sam could not know the debt Denen felt he owed him. Sama'el had been his anchor when nightmares of blue-skinned men tore him, screaming, to wakefulness. To hug Sam to his chest when grief overcame him was only a small repayment. He owed Sama'el such that his life did not even seem adequate payment. He cupped the young Ankal's face in his hands and leaned in to kiss him. He lingered against his lips, even as the cub bawled at being smooshed between his father and his adopted mother. Denen scolded him tenderly as he drew back. “Thank you, Sam,” he offered. But his brows raised, followed by an incredulous laugh. “Gods, I hope not. Sandar looks nothing like me. She's beautiful.” He rubbed both of Sam's cheeks playfully, wrinkling his nose. He knew, though, that this was as close as he and Sam might come to having a child of their own, though this was hardly something he spoke aloud. “Oh!” He declared, his voice a shock next to his silence. “Y-You...must...see w-what I made him.”

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

And so it was decided, and so it was done. They kissed on it and he smiled. He would speak to Sandar soon, and they would gather the pavilion to witness the marriage vows. It needn't be a huge production; the vows were simple and true. When Denen mentioned something for the bear cub, he couldn't hide the groan, but Denen couldn't hear so all he saw was the smile. The healer had a bad habit of dressing the bear up as a boy, and while it was on a minor (and lovable) irritant, part of him wondered if this wouldn't displease Oriana. All the same, he could not begrudge Denen the joy he took in coddling the little bear. "Show me."

[Denen Sunsinger]

Denen grinned and tugged out a scrappy tunic he had made from leftover rags. It wasn't anything fancy. The baby would likely rip it up anyway. But he pulled the cub into his lap and struggled with him until he had the tunic over his head and arms. This done, he held him up with a beaming grin. "Isn't he adorable?" He plopped the cub back down and smoothed back his fur. "We tried a daisy crown, but he ate it. And then he was sick." He scratched under the cub's chin. "No more daisies for the baby." Denen had not expected to adore the cub so, especially given the brutality of his entrance into the world, but he knew, too, that it wasn't the baby's fault that his mother had died. No. That weight rested on his own shoulders, and loving the cub was his only way to atone for it.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

His brows arched with consternation, but all he could do was laugh. The cub seemed not to enjoy the clothes terribly, but he responded well to the affection he received from all comers. "He is that." But he rubbed at his jaw thoughtfully. "I'm going to have to take him to a river soon while it's still warm enough for the salmon to run, or they will at least be present. He needs to learn to fish." Daejyn, the servant, came over quietly, scraps of leather and Sama'el's leatherworking kit in hand. He must have overheard, and was a good man, bringing what was needed. Sama'el thanked him and began to turn the leather over in his hands, looking for where to cut in order to make this rabbit leash Denen wanted.

[Denen Sunsinger]

Denen's smile widened, seeing Sam laugh, and he fluffed the fur on the cub's head into a mohawk. But his nose wrinkled at the thought of the cub going into the water--of which Denen had a rather intense fear--and he hugged the baby to his chest. The cub was more than happy to swat at Denen's growing hair. "You will be careful, won't you? You won't let him go in by himself?" He cupped the cub's little face between his hands and kissed his nose. "Who wants stinky, old fish anyway?" He smiled, seeing Sam's fingers already at work on the harness he had asked for. "Th-Thank you, love." He stretched out alongside him, holding the cub on his belly, and watched Sam absently. "Sam?" He signed his name against his side, while the other hand petted the cub's sleepy head.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

"He is a bear, Denen," he said and signed. Of course he would be careful, but he also knew the cub had instincts a human child would not have had. Certainly he would have a knack for yanking salmon out of the river, and it was unlikely Sama'el would have to save him if he fell in, but that was the point of going with the cub, wasn't it? But he nodded that he wouldn't leave the cub unattended, and that Denen was welcome to his handicrafts, such as they were. He pulled over a flat rock and began to cut the leather into long, thin strips, the which he would plait into a leash and then knot into a harness at the end as well. The knife he had for this work was kept razor sharp, the better to split through the tough leather. At Denen's touch, however, he paused what he was doing to look over, eyebrows raised in gentle question.

[Denen Sunsinger]

He rolled his eyes, barely containing a smirk, and rolled the cub around with one hand on his plump belly. "But he's still a baby. And..." He bit his lower lip, and scooted over to rest his head in Sam's lap while he worked. The moment he had Sam's attention, he smiled and drew him down for another kiss. "I am sorry I cannot give you children. Sandar's will be the closest I can come, and I...know that sounds selfish, but it is true." He played absently with the ends of Sam's hair. "They will be of my blood and yours. Perhaps they will be born of stronger constitution than I was."

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sama'el did not give voice to the fear that plagued him, that Oriana would claim the cub and take him away after the year came and went, no matter how well he cared for his altered offspring. Or had she given him a changeling, taking his actual son from Issima's very womb? He feared he might not get the answers to his questions, even should Oriana make good on her promise to return. Somehow he didn't think she would take kindly to Denen's idea of parenting, but Sama'el had a difficult time denying Denen things, who had stood with him come thick or thin for so long. Ah, conflict. But if Oriana pointed the finger at blame at Denen, would Sama'el be able to continue on without resenting him? Certainly it seemed Denen had forgiven him for killing Issima, but... "Denen," he said, "we are a pavilion. The children belong to all of us."

[Denen Sunsinger]

His brow pinched, and he nodded quietly. He nuzzled the cub to his cheek and sighed. "I know that, but if I could give you children, I would be able to be recognized as your wife." He sat up then and set the cub down on the grass to play. For a long while, he was silent. "He tried to get into the porridge this morning. Nearly gave poor Sandar a heart attack," he signed. "We will have to keep a closer eye on him." He watched the cub wriggle free of his little tunic and pounce at a butterfly. "I have been trying to get him interested in berries. Trying to teach him good and bad. I don't know how much he understands, but he makes quite a mess."