Sweet Child of Mine

((Catchup post – original RP 8 March 2015))

Maybe some day, I will find the missing volume of my journal, or, I may recreate those entries from memory and other records. However, there are some things I must recall and record. It was in early March, the eighth of March to be precise, that Wren officially became part of my family.

We had discussed it before, of course, and she had eventually overcome the reluctance caused by her previous unhappy experiences of adoption. However, we had not gotten around to doing anything official, as I hadn’t had the chance to discuss it with Maric. The chance came that evening, shortly after full moon.

We had been socialising around the fire pits by the tree, as usual. Myself, Dyisi, Wren and Aoibheann. The latter had her new pet in tow, a small deer-like creature that we had only recently identified as a dik-dik. There was also a recent arrival, Johaan, a somewhat androgynous ghost from the German Confederation, who turned out to be quite the book-lover. Maric returned, apparently none-the-worse for his full-moon-driven hunting. He didn’t appear to show any evidence of having killed or fed, but I couldn’t say for sure. I know only that Helene had been safe, for I had sat with her, in my chambers, on the night of the full moon to prevent her from going to him.

We spoke a while on how it was that some people who arrived here in the Wylds often had connection to people already here. Johaan for example, had known Dyisi in some other realm. Helene had known me in London. And, of course, Hadley and Wren had separately found their way here, possibly because of their connections with Aoibheann, Gwyn and I. We discussed that for a while, and that brought up the subject of family. This seemed an ideal opportunity, since Maric seemed in an affable mood, to bring up the matter of Wren’s adoption, and making it official.

Much to my delight, and Wren’s, Maric was fully in favour of doing so, giving his blessing, and suggesting we repair to my office to draw up the papers, after which, he suggested, we have a small party to celebrate.

Dyisi came with us, as did Aoibheann and Johaan, though the latter’s interest was more in the library than our family concerns, and Aoibheann got bored and went to organise some wine and cakes.

Then I had to work out the best way to make the adoption official. A certificate of adoption seemed the best idea. While I had drawn up and engaged in many contracts over the years, they had always been of a more commercial and financial nature. I considered the matter and decided that what was important was the actual declaration of the adoption, and the identification of the parties concerned. Knowing this importance the fae placed on pedigree, I enquired as to Wren’s family history, which, sadly, thanks to assorted adoptions, there was very little, save that she knew her original surname. That was going to have to do, so to avoid things looking unbalanced, I quoted my pedigree only as far as my parents.

I drafted a short adoption notice and showed it to Maric and Wren, who made a few suggestions, which I incorporated. I then got out some of the nicer, heavier duty paper, such as I had used for Maric’s betrothal notice and his confirmation as Winter King, and wrote it out in my best formal hand.

I signed it, Wren signed it, and I was pleased to see that she wrote the new surname in a slightly clearer hand. Dyisi witnessed it, signing in Greek lettering, and finally, Maric, signed it in blood and affixed his seal. After that, he spoke a few words in some ancient tongue, yet I seemed to understand it as sealing the contract magically. The last few words I recognised from elsewhere, whatever the actual words were, the context was “so mote it be” and so it was. We retired then to the main hall to enjoy cakes and drinks, even allowing Wren a small glass of cider for the special occasion.

So, that is my joyous news, dear journal, if a little late. I have a family again, a family by choice, and I feel I could not have chosen better. The tomboy princess I once saluted and addressed as Patrolman, as she marched up and down the village square in Jasper Cove is now my daughter, and I could not love her more if she were my own flesh and blood. And now that she has a place in my family, I can better protect her when the fae come calling.
adoptionwren

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