Page 48 of Storm to Victory
When Fieran broke the silence, his voice was a low, almost somber murmur. “Do you remember our first airship flight?”
“Of course.” Pip told herself sternly that letting go of the wheel to instead wrap her arms around Fieran would definitely cross the line into distraction. “I was already falling for you then.”
“As I was with you.” Fieran’s breath brushed her hair, but he didn’t cross the line by kissing her. Instead, he cleared his throat. “Do you remember that discussion we had about last names?”
“Yes.” Pip found herself swallowing, something in her chest twisting at the tension growing between them.
“How would you feel about a change to your last name eventually?” Fieran’s voice sounded slightly strangled, as if he was feeling the same tension she was.
Pip stilled, her heart hammering. Was he asking what she thought he was asking? “Is that…is that a proposal?”
She wasn’t sure if she wanted it to be. Yes, she wanted to marry Fieran. And an impulsive proposal while they were headed toward danger was just the sort of thing he’d do. She’d say yes, if he was asking.
But a part of her also wanted the full experience. A properly romantic proposal, the elven traditional gifts to ask for the family’s blessing, all of it.
Behind her, Fieran froze too. “No. Is that all right? I just thought…there are a few things we should talk about. Before we get there.”
Pip’s breath whooshed out. “No, I mean, yes. I mean, don’t take this the wrong way, but I was hoping it wasn’t. Because you’re right. There are things we need to talk about.”
Up until now, they hadn’t talked much about the serious things. While their intentions were serious, they’d simply enjoyed courting, getting to know each other more deeply aspeople without pressuring each other to move the step beyond that.
But now Fieran was inching across an unspoken line, testing if she was ready for taking the step in their relationship where they started talking about a future that was dreamed together.
“Good.” Fieran’s voice turned low, soft against her hair. “And just so you know, when the time comes, there isn’t going to be any question about whether or not I’m proposing. You’ll know.”
Pip forced herself to laugh, struggling to keep herself from tensing. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Now about last names…” Fieran’s tone warmed, holding the memory of their last discussion of last names all those months ago on a different airship in distant skies. “It’s not as straightforward as you’d think it would be, is it?”
“No.” This time, Pip’s low laugh was more genuine as she shook her head. With their three heritages in the mix, they were working with three different naming conventions. “It’s a mess, isn’t it? While humans generally go by the man’s last name, dwarves go by the clan name. But the couple can choose to join either clan and take on either clan name.”
“Since I don’t have a dwarven clan, would that automatically make us Clan Detmuk?” Fieran shifted as he braced himself as the airship tilted under a gust of wind.
“Kind of. Unless we moved to Mt. Detmuk to live, we wouldn’t be officially joining the clan. But like you said, you don’t have a dwarven clan, so we could be considered a part of the clan the way my parents are.” Leaning into Fieran to brace herself, Pip shrugged before she glanced over her shoulder at Fieran. “Between the two of us, our elven heritage is the majority. Perhaps we should follow the elven naming convention.”
“What convention?” Fieran barked a laugh, his fingers flexing on the wheel. “For a people who are normally quite stricton rules, propriety, and tradition, the elves have devolved into chaos over the change from titles to last names.”
“True.” Pip shook her head with another laugh. “I’ve heard many elves just keep their own names or come up with a new family name altogether. Others just keep tacking on names as if collecting them.”
“Perhaps that’s what you should do.” Fieran leaned closer to speak in her ear. “Pippak Detmuk Inawenys Laesornysh.”
“Thatwouldbe a mouthful.” Pip couldn’t imagine going around withthatas her legal name. “But maybe just Pippak Detmuk Laesornysh? I’d like to keep my link to my dwarven clan and that way I’d still have my dwarven and elven heritages combined. But I’d be claiming a link to you and…”
And she wasn’t sure what else to say, her face heating as her words trailed off.
“I like the sound of it.” His tone lowered still further. “It’s a mouthful I’d share with you, if you wanted. I’d take on the Detmuk part, if that’s what you’d want.”
She tugged her hands free of the wheel so that she could turn in the circle of his arms, placing her back to the wheel. She needed to face him for this discussion.
His gaze had been focused above her head, staring at the windows to the stars beyond, but as she turned, his eyes dropped to meet hers.
She rested a hand on his cheek. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re Laesornysh through and through, and I’d never want to change that. I’d like to keep Detmuk for myself, and maybe it could be an option for our children if they wanted to embrace their dwarven heritage, but you’re Laesornysh. Our children will likely be Laesornysh, or a rather interesting version of it depending on how your magic mixes with mine.”
A slow smile spread across Fieran’s face. “You saidchildren.”
She had, hadn’t she? Well, if they were going to open up discussions about what a future together might look like, then she was going all in. “Yep, I did. What do you think? Three? Four?”
“Sounds good to me.” Fieran grinned down at her before he glanced up, turning the wheel slightly as the deck shifted beneath their feet with a strong gust. His grin vanished a moment later. “Once the war ends, where would you want to go? What would you want to do? I can probably get a post in the Flying Corps reserves in Aldon if you wanted to work at the AMPC. Or I’m sure the Alliance will be expanding their aerodromes. They might even set up one near the western rail terminal, if you wanted to return to your home there. I’ll follow you wherever you want to go, and I’ll support whatever dreams you want to pursue, Pip.”
