"You know, I've always wanted to visit Highever."

Nyx Tabris glanced over at her companion and lover, Alistair Theirin, with a raised brow. They and the rest of their companions were camped outside the castle of the city in question because Alistair's uncle, Arl Eamon (a man they had saved from certain death along with his son) had pointed them in that direction. The family who ruled over Highever, the Couslands, were friends of his, or so he told them. Nyx had heard of them before, from various elves in her alienage who used to live there. They were known to be fair and kind rulers, earning the loyalty of their people through justice and temperance. With the Blight quickly descending over Ferelden, and Nyx needed to gather all the allies she could in order to end it, and Eamon assured her that the Couslands would lend her their support if he explained to them what really happened at Ostagar, where Ferelden's king was betrayed by his most trusted advisor, Loghain Mac Tyr, who then thrust the blame upon the Grey Wardens, the order of warriors that Nyx and Alistair were both part of. And so Eamon gave Nyx a letter, signed by him and bearing his personal seal. Bryce Cousland, the current teryn of Highever, was a trusted ally of Eamon's, and Nyx was eager to have as many people behind her banner as possible for the coming war.

Nyx rose from her seat on a fallen log. "You won't be coming with me into the castle," she said flatly, making Alistair jump up and begin protesting loudly. "We don't know how the teryn will react to meeting a Grey Warden, or who he will have around him," she snapped, effectively silencing Alistair. "The less people we have moving around in there, the more likely it will be that we remain undetected by others. I am more than enough."

Alistair sighed, looking dejected as he sank back to the ground. "I would try to talk you out of it, but I know it's pointless to argue with you." He looked up at her with pleading eyes. "Just...be careful in there, won't you? I don't want you hurt."

Nyx's cold amber eyes softened. "Of course," she said softly. "I always am." She kneeled down in front of him and cupped his cheek with her slender hands, pressing her lips gently against his.

Alistair returned her kiss and embraced her. "...Liar," he whispered, making Nyx's lips twitch in the beginnings of a smile.

She pulled away. It was almost midday, and Nyx needed to prepare. She would enter the castle under the guise of an elven messenger, and hopefully, she would leave with allies.


"This whole business leaves a rather sour taste in my mouth."

Archer Cousland stopped outside the door of the castle's main hall when she heard the sound of her father's voice. He had summoned her, so of course she came as quickly as she was able, but the seriousness in her father's tone made her reluctant to enter. She hated serious discussions.

But as the daughter of Bryce Cousland, the teryn of Highever, she found herself caught up in more than her fair share of them. Why her family decided to include her in any of them, she never knew. Archer was known to be the wild child of her family, always skipping her lessons with Aldous, getting into brawls for fun, and having more one-night stands than a girl her age should. She was a restless person, always seeking out thrills and pleasure everywhere she went, much to the amusement of her father (who never caught wind of her...more intimate affairs, naturally). Her mother, however, was always horrified at Archer's wild behavior, saying that if she kept it up, she would never find a husband. Which was fine by Archer - she never wanted to settle down. Her flippant nature and the several scars that adorned her face from her rougher brawls turned most potential suitors away, anyway. But still, she was a woman, and she wore a small amount of makeup, to please her mother if nothing else. But she kept her sandy blonde hair short, with nothing but a single braid on the left side, and insisted on wearing armor and carrying a bow with her at all times.

"Yes...the betrayal of the Wardens was a shock to us all."

Another man's voice snapped Archer out of her thoughts. The voice was familiar to her...where had she heard it before?

"I trust your men will be arriving shortly? I am eager to march with you to the capital, and help put a stop to all this...unrest." Her father sounded expectant.

"I expect they will be arriving tonight, and we can march tomorrow," the man replied. "I apologize for the delay, my lord. This is entirely my fault."

"No, no..." Bryce sighed. "The death of the king and the approach of the darkspawn horde has us all scrambling, doesn't it? I only received the call from Loghain a few days ago, myself." Her father was called to the capital? That was news to Archer. Now she was curious...she slipped into the hall quietly. "I'll send my eldest off with my men. You and I will ride tomorrow." He looked over and blinked when he noticed Archer standing quietly by the door. "I'm sorry, pup - I didn't see you there. Howe, you remember my daughter?"

The man next to him, Howe, was a vaguely familiar face. He was her father's age, a graying older man with sharp features. Bryce had fought with him against the Orlesians years ago - they had been friends for a long time. Archer remembered meeting him before, as well as his sons. He had seemed nice enough before, but she was getting a different vibe from him as he smiled at her.

"I see she's become a lovely young woman. Pleased to see you again, my dear." Archer forced a smile on her face...weird vibe or no, this man was her father's friend.

"And you, Arl Howe."

"My son Thomas asked after you. Perhaps I should bring him with me next time." Thomas? Archer didn't think he liked her at all. They barely spoke when last they met, and when they did, he had hardly been friendly. Was he trying to set her up with his son?

"I've no interest in an arranged marriage," she said, waving her hand dismissively. In fact, she had no interest in marriage at all, and she never hesitated to tell people how she felt about it.

Bryce laughed. "See what I contend with, Howe? There is no telling my fierce girl anything these days, Maker bless her heart." Archer grinned. Her father understood her better than anybody.

"Quiet talented, I'm sure," Howe replied. "...One to watch." It almost sounded like the last bit was said through clenched teeth. Weird vibe intensified...what was that guy's deal, anyway?


Nyx watched the exchange between Bryce Cousland, Arl Howe, and Bryce's daughter in silence, pretending to tidy the room so she wouldn't arouse suspicion. She had gained entrance to the castle with little trouble, but she froze when she saw Howe. He was in league with Loghain, and she had to remain undetected by him no matter what. So she pretended to be an elven servant while she observed their conversation, completely unnoticed by all three of them.

Nyx had expected Bryce to have children, but that daughter of his was not at all what she pictured. She had expected a daughter of a teryn to be dressed elegantly, with her hair done and makeup covering her face. Instead, the girl that walked in was dressed in a full suit of leather armor, with a longbow strapped to her back and scars adorning her face. Her green eyes were bright and wild, and she seemed a bit wary of Howe. The girl had good instincts.

Bryce continued to speak. "At any rate, pup, I summoned you for a reason. While your brother and I are both away, I'm leaving you in charge of the castle." That's right, the teryn and his son were both venturing to the capital. If Nyx had arrived just a day later...

The girl looked startled. "What?!" She frowned. "Why can't I go into battle with you and Fergus?" Nyx raised a brow at her outburst. Not a normal noblewoman by any means...so young and bright, yet so eager to see the horrors of the battlefield...human foolishness never ceased to amaze her.

Bryce chuckled. "I'm sure you'd more than prove yourself, but I am not willing to deal with your mother if you join the war." Her cheeks puffed out and her lips pursed in dissatisfaction. "She'd kill me if I let you go. She's already twisted into knots about Fergus and me going."

"That's not fair!" the girl cried, "I want to fight!" Nyx resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Tomboy though she seemed to be, the girl still had the stubborn attitude of a child raised in the lap of luxury.

"You'll have your chance soon enough," Bryce assured her. "This is no needless task. I ask you to take a great responsibility. Only a token force is remaining here, and you must keep peace in the region. You know what they say about mice when the cat is away, yes?"

She sighed. "...Yes, Father."

"Good girl. In the meantime, find Fergus and tell him to lead the troops to Denerim ahead of me."

The girl smirked. "Are you trying to get rid of me?" She was sharp, that one.

"I must see to Arl Howe's arrangements for the night, and prepare myself for our journey tomorrow." Bryce ruffled his daughter's hair. "Be a good lass and do as I've asked. We'll talk soon."

Nyx's eyes narrowed. It seemed she wouldn't be able to get Bryce alone for some time. Her amber eyes settled on his daughter. She was an interesting one...perhaps it would be useful to shadow her. At the very least, she would be under less scrutiny being near her than her father. Nyx would find Bryce later that night.


Archer looked over at Arl Howe. She wanted to speak to him a little more before she left to find her brother...something about the man didn't sit well with her. Howe noticed her eyes on him and blinked.

"...Yes?" he asked.

Archer tilted her head, a sly grin stretching across her face. "You say your son is interested in me?" She still found it highly unlikely.

Howe chuckled. "The topic has come up from time to time. The young and their...infatuations."

"I got the impression that Thomas didn't like me," she told him truthfully.

Howe waved his hand. "I'm sure that was years ago. People change." Yes, it had been years ago...and they hadn't seen each other since. Archer doubted his feelings could have changed so drastically under such circumstances. "To be honest," he told her, "I have no expectations. And your father seems determined to let you find your own way. If something did happen-" Which it wouldn't... "-well, we'd address it as befits a family of our stature."

Archer smirked. "Don't hold your breath," she sang, rocking back on her heels and trying hard not to smile when Howe's own became strained.

"Your father's permissiveness has made you willful, indeed. ...It may not always serve you so well."

Her green eyes narrowed slightly. Was that a veiled threat she heard? Her father seemed oblivious, but there was definitely some warning in Howe's tone. She skillfully changed the topic. "I trust the delay with your men is nothing serious." It did seem odd, didn't it, that his men had been progressing so slowly? Very curious...

"Poor weather, I believe." Howe shrugged. "Their progress has been slow, but it's nothing you need to worry about." Because you're a woman, his eyes seemed to suggest. Archer bristled.

"You told my father the delay was your fault."

"In a manner of speaking..." Howe put his hand on his forehead tiredly. "If I had reinforced our border levies earlier, my troops could have left before the rains." He laughed. "I confess, my confidence in your father allowed me some complacency. I guess that makes it as much his fault." He looked over at Bryce with a mischevious glint in his eye, a look that her father returned with a grin of his own. They really did look like old friends in that moment, and Archer felt her hostility begin to ebb. What was she doing, acting all suspicious of one of her father's oldest friends? What an ass she was.

"I apologize for taking up so much of your time," she said politely. Archer made herself smile brightly at Howe. "I want to wish you well, Arl Howe."

"I..." Howe looked taken aback by her kind words. "Thank you. That is...quite unnecessary." He avoided her gaze, an act that made her skin prickle with suspicion. She begrudgingly cast the feeling aside.

"Well, Father, I'm off now! I'll see you later!" She waved vigorously to Bryce, who laughed as he watched his daughter skip away cheerfully, unaware of the cold amber eyes that followed her.


"There you are!" Archer was stopped almost as soon as she left the hall by a ginger-haired soldier. She smiled. He was Sir Gilmore, a soldier whom she was proud to be able to call her friend. "Your mother told me the teryn had summoned you, so I didn't want to interrupt."

"Hello to you too, Sir Gilmore," she said, giving him a cheeky smile.

Gilmore laughed. "Pardon my abruptness, my lady. It's simply that I've been looking everywhere for you. I fear your hound has the kitchens in uproar once again. Nan is threatening to leave."

Archer snickered. Her mabari, Scoundrel, certainly lived up to his name. He was always causing trouble for the castle's cook, who also happened to be her old nanny. He was just like his master, always playing pranks. "Nan is just blowing off steam," she assured Gilmore. "She's always been like that."

Gilmore smiled. "Your mother disagrees. She insists you collect the dog, and quickly. You know these mabari hounds...he'll listen to his mistress, but anyone else risks having an arm bitten off."

"Don't be silly! Scoundrel knows better than to hurt anyone."

Gilmore looked a bit nervous. "I'm...not willing to test that." Then he softened. "You're quite lucky to have your own mabari war hound, you know. 'Smart enough not to talk,' my father used to say." He smiled again. "Of course, that means he's easily bored. Nan swears he confounds her just to amuse himself." He probably does, Archer thought, biting back a laugh. "At any rate, your mother would have me accompany you until the matter is settled. Shall we?"

"To the kitchen, then." Fergus would have to wait.

"Just follow the yelling," Gilmore chuckled. "When Nan's unhappy, she makes sure everyone knows it."


Twenty minutes later, Scoundrel was back at Archer's side. Turns out, he was sniffing through the pantry not for food, but because it was infested with giant rats from the Korcari Wilds. The three of them made quick work of the creatures, and although the pantry floor was now littered with furry corpses and rat blood, they no longer posed a threat to the kitchen staff. Sir Gilmore left to attend to some soldier business, and Archer was heading into the castle to find Fergus. On her way, she discovered her mother chatting amiably with three guests. One was an older woman, one of her mother's friends no doubt, another was a beautiful elven woman dressed in an elegant jewel-studded gown, and the other was a tall, rather dashing young man with short red hair.

"...And my dear Bryce brought this back from Orlais last year," Archer heard her mother say as she approached them. "The marquis who gave it to him was drunk, I understand, and mistook Bryce for the king!" She turned at the sound of Archer approaching. "Ah, here is my lovely daughter." She eyed her dog with a small amount of annoyance. "I take it by the presence of that troublesome hound of yours that the situation in the kitchen is handled?"

Archer put on an expression of mock-horror. "Oh, it was a horrid affair indeed, Mother! Nan's head exploded and Scoundrel ate the kitchen staff!"

Instead of getting even more annoyed by her daughter's sarcasm, the teryna laughed. "Well, at least one of us will have had a decent dinner." Scoundrel barked happily. "Perhaps your hound left something I can feed my guests." She gestured to the graying woman beside her. "Darling, you remember Lady Landra? Bann Loren's wife?"

"I think we last met at your mother's spring salon," Landra said, smiling pleasantly.

Ah...Archer remembered. Hadn't Landra been...? "Weren't you drunk?" Archer blurted before she could stop herself. She immediately snapped her mouth shut, her face getting hot with embarrassment when her mother gave her an exasperated look. This was certainly not the first time Archer's tongue had gotten away from her.

"I'm so proud of my pup's mastery of tact and diplomacy," Eleanor sighed, giving Landra an apologetic look.

Landra laughed, seemingly unfazed by Archer's thoughtless question. "Well, it was a lovely salon, from what little I remember."

The handsome man standing next to the pretty elf chimed in. "Which wouldn't be much, considering we had to pour you into the carriage afterwards." Archer laughed, happy to discover that these people weren't uptight like all the other nobles that visited their castle.

Landra smiled sweetly at Archer. "You remember my son, Dairren? He's not married yet, either." Archer resisted the urge to sigh. Someone else trying to set her up with their son? How tiring.

Dairren gave a long-suffering sigh. "Don't listen to her," he told Archer. "It's good to see you again, my lady. You're looking as beautiful as ever."

Archer looked him up and down. He was pretty good-looking, and he seemed to have a pretty well-formed body for a nobleman. Yeah... She smirked. She wouldn't mind having a piece of that. "You're looking handsome, yourself," she purred.

"And this is my lady-in-waiting, Iona," Landra said, drawing Archer's attention to the blonde elf at her side. "Do say something, dear." An elven lady-in-waiting? Now that was something she didn't see every day...or ever, actually.

"It is a great pleasure to meet you, my lady," Iona said politely, giving her a soft smile. "You are as pretty as your mother describes." All that flattery was starting to make her feel embarrassed.

"You would think that would make it easier to make a match for her, not more difficult," Eleanor grumbled, much to Archer's amusement.

"Perhaps your daughter simply has a mind of her own, your Ladyship," Dairren said. "You should be proud." Archer eyed him curiously. She was liking this man more and more...

"Proud doesn't get me any more grandchildren," her mother sighed. Archer rolled her eyes. Sorry, Mother, she thought, But unless Fergus has another child, you'll have to be satisfied with Oren for now.

Archer glanced over at Dairren again, her lips forming a sly smile. "Perhaps we should...speak alone some time, Dairren?" She was wholeheartedly against marriage, but a night of passion with a handsome man? How could she resist such temptation? And by the way his eyes were wandering over her body, she could tell he was thinking the same thing.

"...I would like that, my lady," Dairren said with a small smile.

"I think perhaps I shall rest now, my dear. Dairren, I will see you and Iona at supper," Landra said.

Dairren glanced at Iona. "Perhaps we'll retire to the study for now." Iona nodded in agreement. The study? Archer grinned. She would have to stop by for a little...chat with Dairren before she went to find her brother. They nodded to each other, and the three of them left.

"You should say goodbye to Fergus while you have the chance," her mother said after her guests were gone.

Archer decided to try give one last attempt at convincing her mother to let her go to the capital. "Why can't I go with Father and Fergus?" she asked pleadingly, giving Eleanor the best puppy eyes she could muster.

Eleanor frowned. "I know it's difficult to stay in the castle and watch others ride off, but we must see to our duties first. You understand that, don't you?"

"But I could make a difference!" Archer protested. She hated the thought of her father and brother riding off to fight traitors and darkspawn without her there to ensure their safety. Sure, she was only a girl of 18, barely an adult, but she knew her way around bows and daggers. She wanted to make sure they came back in one piece.

"You are - here." Archer pursed her lips at her mother's reply. "Trust me, you'll get your chance for excitement soon enough."

Archer couldn't supress the shiver that went through her at her mother's words. She had a feeling that was more true than her mother realized...ever since she met with her father and Howe, she felt like there was a black cloud hanging over the castle, even though it was a perfectly beautiful day. There was this strange sense of foreboding that Archer couldn't seem to shake. "I have a bad feeling about all this," Archer said honestly, making her mother's frown deepen.

"As do I," she agreed. "Your father and brother are marching off to fight Maker-knows-what. All the assurances in the world don't comfort me." Archer bit the inside of her cheek. She was concerned about that as well, of course, but she didn't think the strange feeling was connected to her father and brother at all. "...But it wouldn't help for us to take up arms and follow," her mother continued. "Fergus and your father have their duty and we have ours."

Archer took a deep breath. "I should...probably go."

Eleanor grasped Archer's arm as she tried to walk past. "I love you, my darling girl. You know that, don't you?" Archer looked at her in surprise. It was a kind thing to say, but it only made the shadow over the castle seem darker.

"Of course I do," she said gently. "I love you too, Mother."

Eleanor nodded, looking satisfied. "Go do what you must, then. I will see you soon."


And so Archer found herself leaning in the doorway of the study. Dairren was there, as he said he would be, looking through the books as Iona busied herself with something on the other side of the room. When he didn't notice her presence, she approached him, and he turned to her with a bright smile as she did so.

"Hello again," he said pleasantly. "Your castle's study is wonderful. Might I ask whose collection this is?"

Booooring! Archer's green eyes darkened, and her voice took on a sultry undertone. "I don't want to talk about books, Dairren."

He blinked. "Oh, my apologies. What do you wish to discuss, then?"

She tilted her head, leaning on her right leg and folding her arms across her chest. "I'd like to get to know you a little better," she said, fluttering her eyelashes at him. Despite her facial scars, Archer was a beautiful young lady, and she knew it. Dairren smiled, seemingly oblivious to her ulterior motives.

"I'd like that. What did you have in mind?"

Archer stepped closer to him. Her smile turned seductive, and she slowly placed her hand on Dairren's chest. "Hmm, well...perhaps we should continue this later. I'm a busy woman, you know." She drew her tongue across her lips to moisten them, and was pleased when his eyes followed her tongue as though he were entranced. "Why don't you...come to my room later tonight?"

Dairren looked shocked at first, then slowly matched her sly smile with one of his own. "I...suppose I could see you after everyone is asleep, for something of a more...intimate nature. If that is what you mean?" Now you're getting it, honey.

She looked up at him, eyes burning as her hand "absentmindedly" made trails up and down his chest. "Is that what you want?" The shudder that ran through him told her everything she needed to know.

"...I think it is," Dairren said, his voice thick with want.

Archer smirked and stepped away from him. "Then I will see you tonight," she purred.

"I look forward to it," he hummed. "I shall see you then, my lady."


With that to look forward to after her day was done, Archer made her way to her brother's quarters with a skip in her step. Archer was infamous amongst the men in the castle for having many lovers, though they wouldn't dare say such things in the presence of her father. It was true, however, and Archer wasn't ashamed of it. It was just another way for her to let loose and have some fun, and Maker knew that's what her life was all about.

"Is there really going to be a war, papa? Will you bring me back a sward?"

Her darling nephew Oren's voice reached her ears before she even entered the room. Archer had to suppress a squeal. She loved that little rascal to pieces! Oh, he was the cutest little thing she'd ever seen!

"That's 'sword', Oren. And I'll get you the mightiest one I can find, I promise. I'll be back before you know it." Oren's father and Archer's older brother, Fergus, responded to the boy fondly.

"I wish victory was indeed so certain. My heart is...disquiet." Fergus's wife Oriana murmured worriedly.

"Don't frighten the boy, love," Fergus said softly. "I speak the truth!"

Archer chose that moment to bound into the room and scoop Oren into her arms, spinning around and around. The boy squealed and giggled, shouting, "Auntie! Auntie!" as Archer laughed along with him. She set him on his feet and ruffled his hair affectionately.

Fergus chuckled. "Ah, and here's my little sister to see me off. Now dry your eyes, love, and wish me well!" Oriana dabbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her dress, smiling warmly at Archer. She grinned back at her sister-in-law.

"Nothing could harm Fergus!" Archer said confidently, gazing up at her brother in admiration. She idolized him. Her brother was her hero - she wanted to be a warrior as skilled and powerful as him one day, and she was sure his son shared that same sentiment.

Oriana's smile was strained. "He is as mortal as anyone, despite his refusal to believe."

"Now, love..." Fergus held her hand reassuringly. "No need to be grim."

"I wish I could go with you," Archer sighed.

"I wish you could come!" Fergus grinned. "It'll be tiring, killing everything myself."

Oriana looked at Archer skeptically. "In Antiva, a woman fighting in battle would be...unthinkable." Archer rolled her eyes. She loved her sister-in-law, but that was one view that they did not share.

"Is that so?" Fergus tilted his head. "I always heard Antivan women were quite dangerous."

"With kindness and poison only, my husband," Oriana said with a sly smile.

Fergus laughed. "This from the woman who serves me my tea!"

Archer shuffled her feet, her plump lips twisting downwards in a small frown. "...You'll be missed, Brother," she said softly.

"If it's any consolation," he told her, "I'm sure I'll freeze at my post and be completely jealous of you up here, warm and safe."

"I am positively thrilled that you will be so miserable, husband," Oriana said, her words dripping with sarcasm.

Archer laughed. Fergus always knew how to lift her spirits. "At any rate...I bring a message." Fergus glanced at her quizzically. "Father wants you to leave without him."

He frowned. "Then the Arl's men are delayed! You'd think his men were all walking backwards!"He sighed. "Well, I'd better get underway. So many enemies to behead, so little time!" Archer's heart sank. He was leaving right this minute? Oh, how she wished she could go with him...! He smiled at Oriana. "Off we go, then. I'll see you soon, my love."

At that moment, Fergus and Archer's parents walked into the room. "I would hope, dear boy, that you planned to wait for us before taking your leave?" her father hummed.

Eleanor walked up to Fergus and grasped his hands. "Be well, my son," she told him earnestly. "I will pray for your safety every day you are gone."

Archer smirked at Bryce. "You could have delivered your message yourself, Father."

Bryce grinned. "And miss having both my children in one place before I leave? Not likely."

Oriana stepped forward, her hands clasped together in front of her. "The Maker sustain and preserve us all," she said, her eyes brimming with tears. "Watch over our sons, husbands, and fathers and bring them safely back to us."

"And bring us some ale and wenches while you're at it! Err...for the men, of course." Way to ruin the moment, Fergus.

"Fergus!" Oriana gasped. "You would say this in front of your mother?"

"What's a wench?" Oren piped up, tugging on his father's sleeve with an innocent smile. "Is that what you pull on to get the bucket out of the well?"

"Uh...a wench is a woman that pours the ale in a tavern, Oren," Bryce told him gently. Under his breath, he mumbled, "...Or a woman who drinks a lot of ale."

"Bryce!" Eleanor smiled and shook her head. "Maker's breath, it's like living with a pair of small boys! Thankfully, I have a daughter." Who doesn't behave much better, Archer thought, grinning to herself.

Fergus chuckled. "I'll miss you, Mother dear." He looked at Archer. "You'll take care of her, Sister, won't you?"

Archer shoved him playfully. "Oh, just go already!" She laughed, but inside she screamed, Don't go! Or at the very least, take me with you! She already worried for her father and brother, and neither of them had even left yet.

Bryce laughed. "Enough, enough." Turning to Archer, he continued, "Pup, you'll want to get an early night. You've much to do tomorrow."

Her heart fell. She wanted to speak to Fergus a little longer...but she knew she couldn't keep him from his duty. She nodded dejectedly and hugged Fergus tightly. "Goodbye, Brother," she said, tears springing to her eyes. "And I beg of you, be safe."

"Of course I will, Archie." Fergus patted her head. "Don't you cry, now. Be strong for Mother, and for my wife and son. Highever needs you at your best for when Father and I are away."

Archer nodded and blinked away the tears. Before she could turn to leave, however, Oren grabbed her hand. "Mama says you're going to be watching over us while papa is gone," he said sweetly. "Is that true, Auntie?"

Archer kneeled down to his level and gave him a big smile. "Yes, that's true, Oren."

"What if the castle is attacked? Will there be dragons?!"

"Dragons are terrible creatures, Oren," his mother told him. "They eat people."

Oren's eyes were shining. "Yeah! I want to see one!"

Oriana glared half-heartedly at Archer's brother. "This is your influence, Fergus."

"What?" Fergus held up his hands. "I didn't say anything!" That was me, actually, but...I'll let Fergus take the fall for this one.

"Are you going to teach me to use a sword, Auntie?" Archer's attention went back to Oren, who looked at her with big eyes full of excitement. "Then I can fight evil, too!" He stepped forward and swung his arm, as though he were swinging a blade at an invisible foe. "Take that, dire bunny!" He shouted. "All monsters fear my sword of truthiness!" Archer giggled. That kid was a riot!

"You bet!" Archer said, patting his head affectionately. "Let's go!"

Oriana gave a long-suffering sigh. "Fergus...there are times when your family causes me great pain."

"Now, now..." Fergus hummed with amusement. "Mind your mother, Oren."

Oren stomped his little foot. "I never get to do anything!" he huffed.

"Don't worry, son," Fergus smiled. "You'll get to see a sword up close real soon, I promise."

And just like that, the feeling of foreboding came crashing back down onto her. She shuddered and got to her feet. She needed to leave, or else she might burst into tears. Archer had such a bad feeling about something...but what? "Goodnight, everyone," she said quickly. "Behave for your mother while your papa's away, alright Oren? I'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight," they all chimed in unison. Archer smiled and fled from the room. She needed comfort...and she was in luck. For she was expecting a...visitor in her quarters that night.