The state of any home when a birth is going on is the same; energy on the brink of panic and chaos. It was no different for Ellone, and in many ways it was worse. Ellone Loire was at the very least the most well-known person in the town of Winhill - and that meant that every single citizen of the village had his or her own opinion of what she should be doing and when, and how vigorously, and how long.

She had endured it with remarkable patience for seven months, but when people attempted to crowd their way into her home to 'help with the birthing', Ellone had no problems with setting a nervous and edgy Chris as guard on her front door. Indeed, the midwife and the twins were in full agreement that he needed something useful to do, and keeping the neighbors from poking their heads round Ellone's bedroom door while she was in labor certainly needed doing.

Chwaer and Cariad had both spent a great deal of time with the midwife in recent months, and got along with her quite well. Neither had stepped forward to take the woman's place, after all, conceding readily that they didn't want Ellone to have two novices helping with something so important. Instead they set themselves to be the midwife's apprentices, and fetched whatever they were told to as quickly as possible - one of them always at the head of Ellone's bed, offering an earth-steady hand for their aunt to hold (or crush), softly singing quiet songs of steady rhythm to encourage her. If no fetching or carrying was needed, whichever twin was not holding Ellone's hand played quiet happy songs on their harp - which Chris had had brought over from the bar.

Long hours passed, day stretching into evening and then to night, and the villagers took the nerve-frazzled Chris out to get quietly drunk. This was Ellone's first baby, and she was no longer young, and the daughter the twins had predicted was apparently not in the mood to be cooperative. The two girls did all they could to make her as comfortable as might be, wiping her down with cool cloths or drying her with warm ones, propping her body up with every pillow they could find, and never ever showing their worry. Ellone needed confidence to counter fear and weariness, and they provided it. As the hours wore on the two abandoned their music and sat at either side of their aunt, holding out hands to be gripped and telling her distracting stories to ease her worries.

And then, all at once, it was over - or perhaps the heat of the moment blurred the final minutes together - and Ellone rested wearily against her pillows as the midwife and the twins cleaned up the baby and made her comfortable. The girls' strength proved invaluable as Chwaer gently picked Ellone up so that Cariad could change the sheets, and the child was nestled into Ellone's arms.

"A daughter, as we told you," Cariad smiled. "What is her name?"

"I've gone past doubting you two when you tell me something," Ellone replied sleepily. "But I can still keep a secret. Her name is Ahnah, Cari...Chris and I decided on it shortly after you two told us she would be a girl. Go on and spread the word...I'll just sleep here a while."

"Ahnah," Chwaer murmured, touching one finger to the baby's hand and smiling when she wrapped her whole tiny hand around it. "A pretty name, Ellone, and a very pretty daughter. We'll tell them." She looked over at her twin, and grinned. "And we'll get your husband put to bed, too."

But Ellone was already asleep. The two girls slipped out with the midwife. "Will she be all right alone?" Cariad asked. "Even as long as it takes us to tell the villagers and bring Chris home?"

The midwife shook her head. "Everything's new at this point. I'll stay here in case she wakes and doesn't know what to do. You two go take care of the celebrants." She smiled. "And thanks for the help. I thought for a moment there she'd try to claw her way into the ceiling."

"Oh, surely not," Chwaer teased, but took Cariad's hand. "Come on, Cari. We'll be lucky if Chris can remember his own name by now."

The midwife chuckled. "Standard Winhill procedure with new fathers - knock 'em out, wake 'em up when it's over. Just don't tuck him in with the new baby and he'll be fine when the hangover clears."

"Thank you," Cariad acknowledged, and the two girls ran down the stairs to spread the word - leaving the midwife to shake her head at their energy.

* * * * * *

Ahnah was, indeed, a beautiful child. Her hair was a true and rich auburn that made both girls smile - Irvine had a competitor, now. He and Selphie sent gifts, but sent their regrets along with them; Selphie was pregnant at long last - very recently, less than a month - and the two of them weren't taking any more chances than Ellone had. Old Kadowaki was still the chief medical tech at Balamb Garden, and to judge by her letter was regarding herself a virtual prisoner and Irvine her jailor. Their messages demanded photographs, of course, lots and lots of photographs, and any news that Ellone would give. Thankfully Ellone kept in touch with the orphanage gang herself, so the twins weren't revealed as Irvine's informants in this case - and the SeeDs' letters tactfully didn't mention that they'd already known about Ahnah from the girls.

Indeed, apart from the strong reddish cast to Ahnah's hair, she seemed a small mirror of Ellone - the same oval face with a sharply pointed chin, and dark brown eyes that made the twins think of their brother Gwynt. They laughed a bit about that, in private - the idea of their temperamental brother around children, particularly noisy newborn children that didn't have a qualm in the world about waking their parents up in the middle of the night, just seemed terribly funny. But they did wish they could tell their other two brothers. Nodwydd, they were sure, would adore pictures and news of his new cousin, and Taran might be quieter about it but he would have wanted to know just as much.

Cariad and Chwaer both babysat for Ellone as often as they were requested to, so that Ellone could rest and recover and rejoin the life of Winhill. They did what they could to ease their aunt's new-mother depression as well, using all the gifts they had at their disposal. They had only one aunt, after all, and only one cousin - and even if said aunt and cousin were ignorant of the relationship, that didn't stop the two girls from treating Ellone and Ahnah as family - adopted or otherwise. Sometimes it was just a matter of letting their overworked aunt sleep a full night - and since the two girls could watch Ahnah all night between them without losing any sleep themselves, arrangements were quickly and agreeably worked out. Chris 'adopted' the twins wholeheartedly after the first two weeks, in exchange for a full nights' sleep, for which they teased him for months afterward.

And it was when the two girls were watching over the baby that the two girls had most of their discussions on family - playing lightly with their new cousin to keep her occupied and quiet so that the parents could sleep.

"Irvine will be so very jealous," Cariad commented. "He's always wanted that shade of auburn, you know. You can smell the coloring sometimes."

Chwaer wrinkled her nose, but grinned. "I'm not going to be the one to tell him we can smell it. Besides, he's about Chris' age. Perhaps it's already gone grey."

"I hope not," Cariad replied. "I don't like thinking of him as old. Or Selphie either. She's so...bouncy."

"So's he," Chwaer pointed out. "They're not going to retire yet."

"Does it ever make you wonder?" Cariad asked, letting Ahnah explore her fingers. "Father is the same age they are. Does it ever make you wonder what he would look like now, if he weren't with Rinoa?"

"Not really," Chwaer replied. "Taran looks enough like him that I think we may know when Taran grows older..." she shrugged. "If we age the way we should, anyway. But even so - Father will never leave Griever while we live. Honestly, I think that's probably for the best."

Cariad laughed quietly - Ellone and Chris were only a thin wall away, after all, sleeping. "Taran is not as much like Father as he thinks he is, sister," she denied. "And he walks in Centra...alone..." her finger brushed lightly over Ahnah's soft hair. "Father was never so alone, Chwaer. I wish Taran didn't have to hide so completely. I worry for his mind, sister. I really do."

"We have to trust that he knows his limits," Chwaer sighed. "We can't even tell him about Ahnah." Her eyes sparked redly for a moment. "Can you imagine Daear with our little cousin?"

"All too easily," Cariad frowned. "She would drop Ahnah out of a window the first time she cried, Chwaer. Even Gwynt would just settle for earplugs."

"True," Chwaer acknowledged, and blinked. "Why do you tug on my finger, Ahnah?" she asked the baby quietly. "Do you want something?"

"Perhaps we should sing her to sleep," Cariad offered. "It is rather late, after all. If she sleeps now...she might wake right about when Ellone will, and that would work well."

But Chwaer was blinking at the baby with a serious expression. "When do babies talk, Cari?"

Cariad looked confused. "Certainly not in the first few weeks, sister, you know that. Around the second year, or the third, I think. Why? Ahnah has said nothing as yet, even babble, though she has a pretty coo."

Chwaer shook her head and shrugged. "I could have sworn I heard Ahnah ask for the blue stuffed Mesmerize. You heard nothing?"

Cariad stood up and held her twin's face between her hands, locking gazes with her. "She said nothing, Chwaer. But you look tired. Perhaps you imagined it, and you should sleep. I can watch Ahnah for a while."

Chwaer nodded, but got the stuffed animal from the box of toys and put it within Ahnah's reach - and the baby cooed happily. "Yes, perhaps I should go to bed. See you in the morning, Cari."

Cariad looked at the tiny baby, her fist curled in the stuffed Mesmerize's mane, and at the door through which her twin disappeared. "Well, little cousin, you live up to your family name sooner than I thought you would. No one ever called a Loire predictable, I'm quite sure of that. Just you be a good girl with that and don't wake your mother, okay?"