The Directian palace was quiet. Just when victory was in sight, the Queen was taken from them by a vicious force, and the inhabitants – friends and dignitaries a like – were in a state of shocked mourning. The Heroes of Directian, though successful in stemming the madness that Simula had unleashed, huddled morosely in their respective guest rooms given to them by the ministers of the Directian government. By tacit agreement, all parties had decided not to discuss the future of the kingdom that night and retired to their beds.

Faerthurin and Jalerom had retired to a tower room that Jalerom had requested for security purposes (purportedly). Rose had chosen to sleep outdoors in the gardens, hopefully in an area that hadn't been stained with blood. Amber and Ivan had collected a fretting Reiyn and took him to their room near Jeminya's, and Oin had no doubt that the three of them were curled up in a ball on the gigantic bed, seeking comfort from each other. The generals of the other armies had taken up residence wherever they could in the remaining rooms.

Oin had requested only a room with a balcony, and his request was granted with one of the biggest balconies in the palace. The room also happened to have been young princess Jeminya's room at some point if the hand-drawn pictures bearing the initials J.M. were any indication. The bed was smaller than normal and exceptionally comfortable, which Oin was having a little trouble with, so he was sitting on the balcony, observing the charred and beaten remains of the city and its walls. The battle with the demons had been exceptionally costly; not only had Simula sacrificed a good portion of her population in the initial ritual, but the newly freed demons had slaughtered many of the rest. Now, the city felt empty and lifeless as efforts to rebuild had been postponed until a course of action could be decided.

The dwarf sighed through his nose. Quite the mess you made, Simula.

He turned his head ever so slightly and clenched his fist when he heard the doorknob turn. But he unclenched and turned back to the dismal view when he saw that Amber had come to visit. Oin was mildly surprised that she didn't come directly to him so he turned his whole body around to see what she was doing.

Amber stared forlornly at the pictures, crafts, and trinkets on the walls of Jeminya's old room. She reached out to touch an especially precious picture of a small shaggy white puppy that had the name "Moppy" under it and signed with Jeminya's initials. She swallowed roughly, took her hand away from the drawing, and turned to face Oin. She was a little surprised to see that he had actually turned his full attention to her, normally preferring to speak or observe indirectly. But she gratefully accepted it as she walked over to join him at the balcony.

The two eldest of the Heroes of Jeminya stood in silence for a good while, gazing out on dilapidated city. Amber was comforted to see that there were still some lights on in some of the houses; some of the Directians had managed to survive. Oin, however, was counting the houses that held no such hope.

He was not pleased with the number he was at. To distract himself, he finally addressed the dragon.

"What has you up so late? The child keeping you from sleeping?" he asked, and Amber shook her head.

"Reiyn and Ivan fell asleep a while ago. I just… couldn't. It feels like… everything we worked for got taken away all at once," she admitted, leaning her head on her hands. Oin made no acknowledgment that he heard her, but she continued anyways. "I know that it didn't. We took out Simula and all the demons and we saved as many people as we probably could, but… I feel like without Jeminya, it doesn't mean much."

Oin said nothing once more, but he understood what she meant. Jeminya had been pivotal to both the party's morale and the union of the nations of Alatastica for a good deal of the time they had been together. She had treated a band of misfits as though none of them were any different than the average person. She had taken in the lost and broken – perhaps out of being lost and broken herself, but also perhaps not – and in doing so she fostered a great amount of loyalty in the hearts of those she saved.

Including himself, loathe to admit it as he was.

Amber interrupted his thoughts. "What are we going to do, Oin?" He deigned to turn his head toward her to see her big green eyes beginning to water and her lower lip to tremble ever so slightly. Oin looked back towards the city and sighed.

"I assume that there will be a call among the group to go rescue her. And I do not see very many people having a problem with the proposition. Though they may balk at the execution; going down into Hell would certainly not be on many people's to-do lists."

Amber laughed at his mild attempt at humor, then sighed herself.

"I'll go."

"There was never a doubt in my mind."

"Ha. Will you?"

Oin paused again, surprised at how seriously he was taking the question. Would he go down into Hell to save Jeminya? Would he go to protect the oafs who had latched onto him and refused to let go? There was not much for him here in the mortal plane; the dwarves still treated him with indifference if not outright disdain (much to Reiyn's disappointment, he mused), and the only companions he truly had would be going down into a world of evil, treachery, and danger.

You could always stay and be Papa Oin, the snarky voice of Olidammara rang in his head, and mentally he punched the voice away. He acknowledged how attached Reiyn seemed to be to him – for reasons completely unclear to Oin himself – but he knew he'd never even suggest taking Reiyn in.

A small twinge in his chest at the thought made him quickly divert his mind back to the main question: would he go to save Jeminya?

"I believe I shall," Oin said slowly, and he could almost hear Amber smiling beside him. "I will need to spend some time in meditation with Olidammara, mind you, but I shall go."

"I'm glad," she said happily, "because I think we'd die without you."

"You say that so lightly."

"Because it's true! We need you," she affirmed, though he could detect a quiver of fear in her voice. He knew she didn't really care to think about dying – and that his dreams probably had something to do with it – so it was nice of her to acknowledge that he played such an important role in her mind. The smallest part of himself had to admit that it was nice to hear that he was needed, but he quickly punched that part out of his mind as well.

Amber squatted down onto the balls of her feet, stretching her arms on the balcony railing, and groaned. "How do you always stay so calm, Oin? I feel so restless and useless and I feel like I need to do something right now!"

Oin's eyebrow raised, still not looking at her, and commented, "What do you feel you need to do?"

"Punch something, fly away, I don't know. Just something!" Amber replied, growling. Oin nodded.

"Hold onto that. It may serve us well in Hell. For now, we wait to see what Jalerom and Faerthurin come up with. After all, he can work the courts and she can get us to Baator."

"But what do we do in the meantime?" she asked, not happy with the idea of waiting for Jalerom and Fae to spin their wheels. Oin cleared his throat.

"I am surprised you do not see it," he said bluntly, "I see a kingdom in need of repair, citizens in need of help, and a government in need of leaders. I am sure you will find something to do." Amber straightened, paused for a moment, and then gave him the quickest of hugs. Oin scowled but she released him before he could say anything and began to head for his door.

"Thank you, Oin. This helped," she said. She reached for the doorknob, but it was stuck. She forcefully tried to jiggle it, and yanked with all her might, causing the corner of the door to whack her in the face. Amber rubbed her nose and called back to him, "I knew it was coming!"

Oin rubbed his face wearily as she closed to the door to his—Jeminya's room. He refused to see it as his. He would set out for his meditation in the morning after making sure to bid his farewells, so the room would remain as Jeminya left it if he could help it. He considered for a moment leaving before saying goodbye, but he knew that upon reunion Amber, Faerthurin, Ivan, and Reiyn would never let him hear the end of it, even more so if his absence caused the child to cry.

Better to save myself the bigger problem later, he reasoned as he trudged back to the small, comfortable bed. He felt much more relaxed as he laid down this time than he had before. Speaking with Amber had been a comfort to him as well, and he found himself drift easily into sleep.

Not that he'd ever tell her so.