It was a night of daughters entire, I think.
I am glad to say Avalon has returned to the Lynn-keep. She does not speak with me as of yet; she is still angry at what she has seen of my past, and her rabbi. But it is the anger of family, not the coldness of San. (Strange, that he is so outside it, so soon.) It is in part the rabbi’s gift, for he has generous explanations.
She is by Lynn standards well past full-grown, but by these outside ones, not so much. I think I understand them better for I went to watch her sleep; I can give her her space awake, but then I indulged myself as her mother. She was on one side, hair behind, hands curled with palms upwards, one at the neck and one above. They were scarce bleeding at all, and I notice she grows better at concealment when they do.
The smile in her sleep was not knowing, not yet. But her lips were kissed.
For Anala I think the time has gone slowly. She will not sleep in her bed, so she sleeps in mine, and wakes Asher at times which makes me a little cross. It is for San she cries yet, although she cries against me.
I am very glad for both, but without San to change and walk Asher while Anala is petted back to sleep, or the reverse, it is more difficult. We are more compact without their father, less space between us, myself and my two little ones. And yet, I am glad for it; before I let things fall to him, maintaining a sort of final barrier between myself and motherhood. Now it has fallen. With the body-children as well at times I feel as though I will never be without a little hand or a head against my skin. I admit, now my skin is the used to it. As they grow and leave me behind I will miss it. This is what I think when I watch Avalon.
I understand Lyria a little better now, although how she manages her brood as well as at times the rest is beyond me. But for her it is natural. When she tires it is not exasperation, merely the time for the nap.
Anala is much more fiercely tempered than Avalon, particularly without the notions of her father now, but I understand the fire at least. But when her games must wait for the baby, or her story interrupted (a large sin), she stamps her foot and hisses. I hope soon she will learn to read a little (she is instructed among us, but only in such things, thus far, not the other). Then she will not have to wait so long, at least for ones that are read and not sung or told aloud.