The February wind chased Cian across the wind-chilled patio concrete and back into the house. He closed the sliding-glass door against the onslaught and set his covered basket of fresh cuttings from the winter garden on the table, tickling little Noel’s toes with cold fingers and eliciting a squeal of delight from the baby. He shrugged out of his coat and draped it across the back of a chair, stooping to kiss his son’s round cheek, then straightening and crossing to the big island counter to lay a kiss on the back of Winter’s neck. “I think I got everything.”
Winter leaned back against him, and Cian reveled in the feeling of her nearness, her warmth, and the lightly floral scent of her shampoo. “Thank you for going out and getting them for me. I can make the potions in the apartment kitchen above the shop, but not without these cuttings.”
Cian smiled and kissed her hair. “I’m happy to help, and the last thing I want is to chase you away, but aren’t you running late to open?”
Winter looked at the clock and gave a tiny jump. “Blast! Yes, I am.”
Cian stepped away and picked up the jar of mayonnaise from the counter. “I’ll finish your sandwich while you get your coat. It’s freezing out there.”
Winter smiled up at him and laid a soft kiss against his lips. “What would I do without you?”
Cian smiled. “Let’s never find out.” He kissed her again, deeper, and she rose to meet him, her lips parting beneath his mouth. He finally broke the kiss with a reluctant groan and pressed his forehead to hers. “Coat. Late. Or screw it and stay with me today.”
Winter squeezed her eyes tight but stepped away. “Jessie’s at school, and I don’t have rabbit help until this afternoon. I really have to go.”
Cian smiled and let her slip away. Work was important, and he had his college aptitude exam to study for. He had lost precious weeks in Faerie last month and time was quickly running out. He turned back to the sandwich, finished it, and dropped it carefully into Winter’s lunch bag, making sure that she’d already packed some grapes and sliced cucumbers. He walked over to the kitchen table and pulled a sheet of paper out of one of his notebooks, carefully writing, “You make me so happy.” He folded the note and tucked it into the bag, then transferred Noel to his chest carrier to free up his hands. He picked up the bag and basket in one hand and took all three to the foyer where he met Winter winding a scarf around her slender neck. He gave her a quick kiss and held up the baby for his mother’s kiss. He handed her the basket and lunch bag and waved her out the door with Noel’s pudgy little hand. “Bye, Mommy. Come back to us, soon.”
Winter smiled and waved to their little one. “Bye, Noel. Take good care of Daddy Cian.” Cian beamed and watched out the open door until Winter was in her car and out of sight down the long driveway. He moved to close the door but heard Brian’s mother’s new van approaching the house. The young Hero and Etienne had been practicing nearly every day since they’d returned from Faerie. Brian had a new drive to learn, born out of the blood, pain, and loss suffered during the brutal battle there. Cian understood. He had returned with a stronger desire than ever to learn everything he could about medicine and his healing gift. He held the front door open and waived Brian inside as he swung the van door closed. “Come in. It’s cold out there.”
Brian nodded his thanks and slipped past the sidhe, shrugging out of his padded denim jacket and hanging it on the coat tree in the hall. “Morning, Cian. Happy Valentine’s Day!”
Cian’s smile only slipped a little as he blinked his confusion. “Thanks! Happy what?”
Brian grimaced and patted Cian’s shoulder. “You fit in here like you’ve been here forever. I forget that so many things are your first time encountering them. Every February fourteenth is Valentine’s Day. It’s a day to tell the people you care about that you’re thinking about them.” The Hero flushed a little and seemed to find a speck of dust on the picture-filled table fascinating. “And you can ask really special people to you to be your Valentine, if you have someone that you care about romantically.”
Cain bounced little Noel in his carrier and thought about that. “Someone romantic, like you and Jessie?”
Brian coughed and rubbed at where the speck had been eradicated. “Exactly like that.”
Cian nodded. He had a couple of people who fell into that category. “How do you ask them to be your Valentine?”
Brian walked back to the coat tree and pulled an envelope and a little square box that smelled like chocolate out of his inner pocket. “Normally with flowers or candy and a card, like this one. In it, you tell the person you feel romantically about what you like about them and how they make you feel, and you ask them to be your Valentine if they feel the same way.”
Cian looked at the red envelope. “I don’t have any of those to give anyone.”
Brian looked down at the envelope and back at the sidhe. “You can buy them at stores in town, including ours, but you can also make them yourself with paper, scissors, and glue. That lets you be really personal with your Valentines.”
“Is that what you did for Jessie? Make it yourself?”
Brian smiled and looked down at the envelope. “Yeah, I did. It might be a little cheesy, but I think she’ll like it more that it came from me than a store.”
Cian thought about that, and it sounded right. Handmade, then. “Is there something special that I’m supposed to make?”
“Most people include hearts or flowers, but really you should just think about what the other person likes and try to make them something like that. Some people write a poem, or something sentimental, or you can just write, ‘Be Mine.’ It’s really about the thought that you put into it. If you want to give it a go, I know that Jessie has tons of art supplies upstairs that I’m sure she wouldn’t mind you using.”
Cian grinned. He had a lot of work to do, but if this was the day that everyone told the people special to them how they made them feel, then he wasn’t going to miss his chance. He tucked Noel a little higher on his chest. “This sounds great. Let’s raid Jessie’s supplies, and I’ll see what I can do.”
Cian followed Brian up the stairs and to Jessie’s room. In a cabinet near her desk, Brian found paper in various colors, scissors, glue, markers in every hue, and even a box of odd buttons, ribbons, and tiny bows. They gathered up the supplies and took them down to the kitchen, depositing them between Noel’s carrier and Cian’s study guides.
Etienne stood impatiently near the basement door. “What are you two up to? I’ve been waiting here since I heard the van.”
Brian grinned at Cian but answered the faerie knight. “We were gathering supplies for a special project. Sorry to keep you waiting.”
Etienne took in the pile of supplies on the table and his brows knit in confusion, but he didn’t ask for elaboration. Instead, he said, “It’s too cold to work outside today, so we’re taking over Alerich’s boxing studio for the morning. Let’s get to it. The day is getting away from us.”
Brian nodded. “Let me just grab Courage.”
Etienne grunted and headed down the stairs.
Brian turned back to Cian. “Just think about what your person means to you, how they make you feel, and use that to make the card. There’s no right or wrong way to do it.”
Cian looked down at the pile of supplies and thought about Winter and how she made him feel and ideas flooded his brain. He beamed at the Hero. “Thanks, Brian!”
Brian ducked his head and smiled at the sidhe prince. “No problem. Good luck!”
Cian sat and picked through the paper. The card that Brian had been carrying had a red envelope, but he had no idea what the card inside might look like. But Brian had said to think about Winter and how she made him feel and to go from that. Cian closed his eyes and pictured the wizard, her long hair, her scent, and how her smile made him feel like the first days of spring when everything is in bloom and the breeze held the scent of promise in the air. He picked a piece of blue paper, like the skies in spring for his background and a selection of greens for the grass and trees. He began cutting small shapes and gluing them to the blue background, building a landscape out of cut paper.
Cian looked at the growing landscape and it wasn’t quite right. It was frozen, still, while Winter made him feel full of life. He concentrated on the scene, breathing life into it the way he could breathe healing into a body. He funneled his magic into the paper until the blades of grass danced with glamour in the spring breeze and the clouds lazily traced across the paper sky.
Cian thought about what Brian had said about hearts and flowers and cut flowers to dot the grass, thinking about Winter’s shampoo and the slightly floral scent that had come to mean home. He breathed the scent into the scene until each gust of the paper breeze brought the essence of another flower.
He remembered Brian said that some people write poems for their Valentines. That was really just a song, wasn’t it? He thought of Winter and sang a sidhe love song into the card, breathing it to life like he had the flowers, the grass, and the wind, until the card rang softly with Cian’s voice, the song of a sidhe lord and his lady love.
Cian looked down at the card and was happy with what he saw. This was how Winter made him feel. Alive, and new, and full of beginnings. He signed the card, “Be Mine and Let Me Be Yours. Cian.”
He gently folded the card, careful of the pieces, and made a red envelope to hold it, writing Winter’s name in his careful script on the outside, smiling at his work. That was always how it was with Winter. Things were easy and they made him happy.
He looked back at the pile of supplies and the smile changed. He thought of Etienne, who made things anything but easy, but who also made Cian happy. How to tell the gruff faerie knight how he made him feel. He closed his eyes and thought about the man, about their night together before the battle, and the many nights since. He chose a black piece of paper and cut starlight pinpricks into it for the night sky. As before, he breathed his magic into the scene and the stars began to twinkle in their paper sky. He cut a moon hanging full and bright and a tree beneath which he glued two lovers lying on the ground, staring at the heavens above them. He cut a fire, burned low and smelling of hickory and with his magic, the flames danced in their ring and cast shadows on the lovers. He thought of the smell of Etienne, smoke, leather, and steel, and breathed them all into the card. He didn’t sing. He didn’t need to. Etienne was a man of few words and would know what Cian was saying without saying anything. He simply signed it, “Be Mine, Now and Always. Cian.” He folded it carefully, and made a red envelope that said, “Etienne,” to slide it inside.
Cian smiled wistfully down at his creations. Two cards for his two loves. Two Valentines. But then he frowned. It was true that he loved Winter and Etienne both, but Brian said that Valentine’s Day was a day for telling the people you cared about how they made you feel. He was nervous, but with a shaky hand he picked up another piece of paper, this one brown like the Library. He had another Valentine to make, but this one caused him some trepidation. Alerich. He cared for the man, but neither of them had talked about those feelings at all. What if he asked Alerich to be his Valentine and the man said no? But Brian hadn’t said that Valentines were a sure thing. Only that he should tell people how they made him feel and ask if they would be his Valentine. He could do that. He could tell Alerich how he made him feel, even if the wizard didn’t feel the same way.
Cian cut carefully. He cut a fireplace with a roaring fire and breathed it to life. He cut chairs and books and arranged them like the evenings they had spent together reading in the Library. He cut two men and put them in the chairs, books in their laps. He thought of Alerich and his scent, firewood, paper, and spices. The feel of silk and leather. And the walking cadence of Shakespeare’s meter, iambic pen-something, that Alerich practically sang with every reading. He breathed them all into the card, and finally cut butterflies flying from the book in paper-Cian’s lap like they fluttered in his belly. How the wizard made him feel. Cautious and curious. Nervous and exhilarated. He hummed a song into the card, a tentative but hopeful song. One that offered his heart and hoped that it would be handled kindly. He signed it, “Be My Valentine? Cian.”
He made one last red envelope and wrote Alerich carefully across it, sliding in the card and biting his lip. This one made him nervous, but it also felt right.
He looked at his small pile of Valentines. The first he’d ever made. He hoped that he’d done it right. But Brian had said there was no right or wrong way. To show them how they made him feel. He’d done that and now all he could do was ask them to feel the same. To be his.
Cian gathered up the rest of the supplies and returned them to Jessie’s cabinet, changed the baby and gave him a bottle, rocking him in the nursery glider and humming the songs he had sung for Winter and Alerich. He would get to work on his studies in a moment, and later he would give his very first Valentines to Winter, Etienne, and Alerich. But for now, he was content to rock his son, hum a love song, and think about the family they were making in this house. Brian had said “Happy Valentine’s Day,” and Cian was happy. Happier here than he had ever been in his life.
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