The castle was at its busiest today. Dozens, maybe even hundreds of armored soldiers were making preparations for the upcoming battle. Mass groups of merchants from all over came to sell their prized good, hoping to make a pocketful of sovereigns for their families. Rosemary hurried through the horde of people, trying to reach her brother's private quarters.

"Stop it!" she yelled.

It was time for bed, and, Fergus, of course, stood on top of his bed, teasing his sister as she whined at the edge. Everyone had gone to sleep except for the two them. He had Alessa in his hands, her precious doll that Mother and Father had given her for her third birthday. She was six now and simply couldn't live without her.

Fergus had his fingers wrapped around Alessa's small linen arm, her body dangling in the air. The girl whimpered, thinking that the thin white cloth that was bound within the doll's arm would suddenly tear apart from the rest of her body.

"Oh, come on", Fergus said, shaking Alessa in his hand, her rose colored dress waving in the air. "Don't be a baby. Can't you survive one night without this thing?"

"No!" she cried, a small tear running down her cheek. "Give her back to me!"

Fergus scoffed. "What if I don't?" he asked in a harsh manner. "Are you going to go tell Mother like you always do?" The ten year old smirked. "Because that's what you do. You can't stand up for yourself, you crybaby."

His sister grit her teeth, clenching her small fists. "That's not true!"

"Oh?" Fergus asked, now bouncing on top of the bed. Alessa's body jerked in his hand, the long brown strings stitched into her head flying above her.

"Fergus!" she screamed. He didn't listen as he continuously hopped on the mattress of his large bed.

Should she have went and gotten Mother? Would that have made things easier, to not get in trouble but still be annoyed by her brother? It probably would've been, but to the child the easy way out didn't matter. What mattered was letting all the bottled up rage and anger (Fergus's Ongoing 1,000 Ways To Annoy His Sister, as she liked to call it) finally spill out into the world.

She grabbed Fergus's legs, putting all of her strength, which had proven to be a great deal of, into them. He uttered a strange noise, his hands and legs wobbled, trying to regain balance. Alessa's arm was still enclosed in his hand, however, as she slammed Fergus off of the bed.

There was a loud 'thud' as Fergus hit the wooden floor. He groaned with pain, curling up in a ball on the ground as he let loose of his grasp on the girl's doll.

She crawled on top of the wide bed, her hands clawing into the silk sheets as she made her way over to her brother.

She stepped over Fergus and carefully lifted Alessa off the floor. Her mouth was embroidered into a sweet smile, and her marble eyes were the shade of black. Thankfully, she hadn't been harmed.

The child walked towards the door, cradling the doll in her arms, her bare feet sliding against the cold floor. A smirk formed onto her soft face as she giggled quietly. That'll show him.

Before she left, the girl turned around and looked at Fergus. He sat up from his position, rubbing the back of his head. He gave his sister a dirty look as he clambered up onto his bed; the blankets were crinkled from where she had scrambled atop of it. Fergus jerked back the top of the silk and squirmed underneath the blankets. He hid his face by turning over and covering it with one of the cotton pillows.

"You'll get it, sister. Tomorrow I'll toss all your linens and such from your drawers into a huge mess and then… then you'll see."

"Good night", his sister said with a giggle as she stepped out of the doorway. All she got in return was a muffled groan in the darkness of her brother's bedroom.

Rosemary turned around amongst the crowd of people. She could have sworn someone called her name, but she wasn't sure. Several anonymous faces surrounded her, bumping into her sides and back as she stood unmoving, looking into the eyes of hundreds of people. Rosemary saw no one that stared back at her, no one who had needed her for anything, no one who had been after her while her thoughts and mind were elsewhere.

Finally, after many commoners gave her confused expressions as to why she had stood still for so long, Rosemary turned back around and continued walking to Fergus's room. She brushed her brown bangs behind her right ear, her ponytail bouncing in the air as she shifted through the civilians.

"Rosemary!"

A hand grabbed her shoulder as she quickly turned her head to see who had been following her trail. It was Ser Gilmore, a squire of the castle since the age of eleven or twelve, as well as a trained knight. He let go of her shoulder as she turned to face him.

"I…" he breathed," I… phew…"

He bent over, gasping for air as he put his hands on his chainmail covered knees. His orange hair was dripping with warm sweat and his cream colored skin was beaded with it as well.

"I was… calling you back there…" Ser Gilmore said as he slowly stood straight again and started to breathe normally. He wiped his forehead with his hand and looked at Rosemary with his pale blue eyes.

"Oh," she said, remembering that all her attention had gone to the memory she was thinking of, "I apologize."

They moved away from the middle of the public and to an empty corner in the room so the two could hear each other more clearly.

"I was outside the room where the teyrn and Arl Howe were", Ser Gilmore explained as he stood in front of the thick stone wall, "so I've been following you ever since you left." He laughed, his cheeks pushing up into his eyes as he formed a large grin. "You're pretty swift, you know that?"

She was surprised, not aware that she had made it to the second floor of the castle so rapidly.

"Your mother told me the teyrn had summoned you," Ser Gilmore went on, "so I didn't want to interrupt."

Rosemary smiled. "Hello to you, too, Ser Gilmore."

He bowed his head at her greeting. "It's always a pleasure to have the chance to see you, my lady."

She chuckled to herself. 'My lady' was an overly proper title for her. It suited her mother more, or Fergus's wife Oriana; but not Rosemary.

"I fear your hound has the kitchens in uproar again," Ser Gilmore said. He sighed, his breath cutting between his teeth. "Nan is threatening to leave."

Nan, the castle's lead chef as well as Rosemary and Fergus's former nanny, had always had a grudge over her dog, Thaddeus. Maybe it was just an inherited trait of all cooks, since mabaris' drool over chunks of leftover meat. But Thaddeus was a respectful dog. She found him as a puppy on the side of a dirt road one day, neglected and in need of a home.

Rosemary skipped alongside her father on a wandering path that would eventually lead to Denerim. It was midday, the sun was shining dimly through the thick gray clouds of Winter, and the cold air whispered in her ears and between her pigtails. She rubbed her finger against the thick black coat that kept her body warm. The glove captured clumps of minute snowflakes that rested on her coat; they dissolved instantly once the soft cotton of her mitten touched them. The girl looked up at her father, squeezing her hand that was wrapped around his so he would know that she was looking at him. He stared down at his side, his bright blue pupils gazing into hers. Bits of snow were caught in his short brown beard and his nose was tinted a pale pink color. He smiled at her.

"Isn't this beautiful, dear?" he asked. She turned her attention to their surroundings. The landscape of their castle was blanketed with an untouched sheet of white that had been placed overnight and the branches of broad pine trees were embedded with lines of powdery flakes. Two small forts that she and Fergus had built stood out in the open of their enormous yard. Piles of unused snowballs sat next to them, and in between the forts were light imprints of the children's boots. She stared back at her father and nodded at his question. Winter was always her favorite season.

She and her father continued drifting until they saw a strange item lying up ahead on the side of the trail. It wasn't very large compared to her father, but it was as tall as the little girl, so it seemed fairly big. The mysterious object was patched with thin layers of ice, and a part of it had broken off and was lying in the deep snow.

They raced over to the object, their feet crunching inside the heavy terrain. Her father knelt down to the object and wiped away the snow and ice. They discovered that is was a wooden cart that appeared to be purposely abandoned. He motioned for her to stay behind him as he studied the pile of rubble.

The cart was covered in pointed splinters and two rusty wheels were attached to the back of it. The component that had broken off was one of the long handles used to pull the item. Her father gasped as he looked inside of the old cart.

"Maker's breath…" he whispered to himself. He extended his arms into the opening of the cart and sat there for a moment, stroking his hands against something his daughter couldn't see. She quietly stepped behind her father to get a look of what was going on.

Inside of her father's palms was a young puppy, small and homeless. The fact that the adolescent dog was lying inside the cart suggested that it was most likely left to freeze to death in the cold. What sick person leaves an innocent animal out to die?

The dog shook rapidly in his hands, its blood temperature low. It had big, dark eyes, and its soft fur was a much lighter shade of brown. There was a small cut under one of the puppy's eyes, but that was the only wound she could see.

The girl reached her hand out to touch the animal. At first, it whimpered as her glove drew close to its face, but as her small hand rubbed its head, the animal remained silent. She glanced at her father as she continued to soothe the dog.

"This is a mabari," he said. "Yep, I'm sure of it. A purebred, even." The dog began to shake more. It was going to die soon if it weren't to be concealed in warmth.

"Father," the girl said firmly, "we have to take him home." She gently took the dog from him and held it up against her jacket. It nuzzled its head into her chest, and her hands tried to keep it warm. It whined as she stroked its icy fur. Her father stood up and stared down at the puppy. "This is a big step for you, Rosemary," he warned, "especially at your age."

She nodded at him as the two of them (three now, actually) headed back towards the castle. "I'll take care of him Father, I promise. I'll feed him three times a day to make sure he gets lots to eat, and then, when the winter blows over, we can play outside. Oh, we'll wrestle down hills and walk through the woods! Fergus will be shocked to see him!" She looked up at him. "And I'll take him out every night to do his business, don't worry."

Her father chuckled. He patted her back as their winter boots sank into the snow each step they took. "Alright," he decided, gazing at her as she grinned from ear to ear, "but I warn you, if he gets into Nan's larder, then we'll all be in for it."

She stared down at her feet. If she and her father hadn't been out in that weather at that time… if they had stopped walking just before they would have noticed that cart… the imagination sent a deathly chill through her spine.

"Did he get into the larder again?" Rosemary asked, staring out the window behind Ser Gilmore. Dark clouds lurked amidst the daylight, and the leaves of heavy branches were pulled inside of a tugging wind. A storm was brewing, and it didn't look to good, either.

Ser Gilmore nodded. "No matter how the maids try to keep him out, he always finds a way in."

He sighed. "You know these mabari hounds. He'll listen to his mistress, but anyone else risks having an arm bitten off."

Thaddeus was her best friend, probably her only friend in years since she had last seen the arl's children, and the greatest dog anyone would ever lay their eyes on. She could talk to him if she was sad and he would listen, condoling her with small whimpers and resting his head in her lap. He was just…defensive, is all.

"He knows better than to hurt anyone," she told Ser Gilmore.

The man gave her a suspicious look. "I'm not willing to test that." He changed his expression as he crossed his arms, his lips turning to a grin.

"You're quite lucky to have your own mabari hound, you know," he said, showing his pearly white teeth. "Smart enough not to talk, my father used to say." He skidded his foot on the ground. "Of course," he continued, "that means he's easily bored. Nan swears he confounds her just to amuse himself."

A streak of purple ran down through the clouded sky, and a deafening crack of thunder blasted in their ears. Rosemary's heart nearly leapt out of her chest as the glass in the windowpane vibrated with violent force. There were instantly shards of rain falling onto the roof of the castle, and the trees outside the castle seemed as if they were about to snap in half. Both of them exhaled deeply; something that loud would nearly make one scream.

"At any rate," Ser Gilmore said, rubbing his forehead, "your mother would have me accompany you until the matter is settled. Shall we?"

She smiled. "To the kitchen, then."

They turned to the crowd of startled people that surrounded them. Rosemary felt as if she was drowning in a horde of frantic civilians.

"Just follow the yelling", Ser Gilmore stated as they began to cut through the mass amount of commoners. "When Nan's unhappy, she makes sure everyone knows it."

They came to an alleyway on the first floor of the castle. There was a single door there, and as Rosemary went to open it, she heard piercing shouts from the inside of the kitchen.

"Servants!" yelled an old woman whose voice was hoarse. "Clean up that mess! Don't you realize there's a deranged mutt in here?!"

A deranged mutt? Her dog was a well-behaved mabari! What kind of trouble could he have gotten into? Ser Gilmore grimaced. "Ugh…" he moaned, "sounds like she's pretty upset. Best we get in there, before things get uglier."

She twisted the knob, the rust of the metal scraping against her palm. The door creaked open, and Rosemary saw Nan standing with her hands on her hips. Her two servants sat on their knees on the concrete floor, their sleeves rolled up to their elbows, scrubbing away at the grimy floor with yellow sponges and a bucket of hot soapy water.

It was a large area- there were dozens of barrels and sacks organized in tall rows along the stone wall, and wooden cabinets stuffed with delicious food sat nestled in each corner of the room. The actual kitchen was connected to the larder, which the door to that room was behind where Nan stood furious.

The old woman pointed her finger at the two elven laborers. "Get that bloody mutt out of the larder!" she ordered.

The female elf stopped cleaning the floor. She wiped her forehead with her dry hand; large beads of sweat were collected on the pores of her face. "But mistress!" she said, her voice weak and her body exhausted from hours of work. "It won't let us near!"

Nan grit her teeth. "If I can't get into that larder," she spoke coldly, "I'll skin both of you useless elves, I swear it!"

Ser Gilmore bit his lip, uneasy to even speak. "Err…" he said quietly, "calm down, good woman. We've come to help…"

Nan quickly turned from hollering at the workers. She shot Rosemary and Ser Gilmore dirty looks. "You!" she said, glancing at Ser Gilmore. He backed away slightly as she stepped towards them. "And you!" she yelled, fixing her angry eyes on the girl. "Your bloody mongrel keeps getting into my larder! That beast should be put down!"

Rosemary furrowed her eyebrows at Nan. What she wanted to retort back to her was "Don't you mean 'deranged mutt'? At least that's what I heard before I walked in. And if you ever speak to Ser Gilmore and I like that, and your servants for that matter, ever again, I'll let my Father know about it for sure!", but this was her kitchen and they were her servants, and she was also an elder. And she definitely didn't want to get into a back and forth argument with her about what she could and couldn't call her dog. That would make the situation much, much worse. So instead, Rosemary replied "I'm sorry he's bothering you, Nan."

She sighed. "Just get him gone," she said with a more relaxed tone, "I've enough to worry about with a castle full of hungry soldiers."

The two elves stood up from scrubbing the floor to begin a new task. Their legs wobbled as they slowly rose to their feet. Rosemary felt awful for them.

When she opened the door to the larder, Thaddeus was on all fours and standing in an attack pose. His back was turned; he was facing the wall in front of them. He snarled through his razor sharp teeth, saliva dripping from the ring of his mouth. He didn't turn to look at the two as they entered.

The large dog barked at various boxes that blocked the wall. His claws were dug into the floor beneath him, and his nose was planted into the ground as well.

He wagged his hindquarters, trying to sniff out an unidentifiable smell.

"Look at that mess," said Ser Gilmore. "How did he even get in here?"

Rosemary stepped over to Thaddeus as Ser Gilmore stood next to the door, obviously afraid that her mabari would rip his body to shreds. She kneeled down in front of Thaddeus so she could look into his brown eyes.

"Are you trying to tell me something, boy?" she asked, scratching the dog's floppy ears. He immediately relaxed as Rosemary pet him and he barked excitingly. His stubby tail wagged as he nodded his head at the stack of crates and potato sacks.

Ser Gilmore crossed his arms. "He does seem like he's trying to tell you something…"

She stood up and walked over to the stack of boxes and other items. "Here?" Thaddeus barked again and wagged his tail even faster.

Ser Gilmore, taking his chances, stepped over to her side. Thaddeus watched him, though did not attempt to lunge at him. "Perhaps there's a slab of meat hidden behind there…?" Ser Gilmore suggested.

The two of them began to slide the objects over to the side as the mabari continuously kept barking. Behind the items was no steak; instead a massive hole in the stone wall.

Thaddeus began to growl once more as soon as he noticed the opening, returning to the pose they saw him in when they first walked in.

Rosemary squatted down to the hole and looked inside. It was pitch black, and remains of the stone were scattered in and around the aperture. It appeared that someone had intentionally made this burrow…but who…or what?

She didn't want to risk putting her hand in, so she stood up and stepped back over to Thaddeus. "I understand," she said, patting Thaddeus on the head. "You're not disturbing the larder, you're just protecting it." Rosemary thought for a moment about what sort of thing might have broke the stone. "Some sort of large vermin…" she decided. "Giant rats, maybe?"

Ser Gilmore snickered. "Giant rats?" he said. "It's like the start of every bad adventure tale my grandfather used to tell!"

Thaddeus prowled past Ser Gilmore and she and in front of the hole. He stood there for a moment and listened with his perceptive ears. He then turned back to the two of them and barked ferociously, aware that something was inside the burrow.

It was times like this when she think 'Hmm…perhaps all that time I spent dueling that practice dummy was actually worthwhile'.

"What is going on in there?" Nan whispered as she and the servants overheard the vicious screeches and slashes of blades coming from inside the larder.

The two laborers looked up from washing stained dishes. The female elf shook her head at the male elf, and then he stared at Nan.

"Well," he replied hesitantly, not sure if Nan was asking them or is she was just talking to herself again, "from the sounds of it-"

The servant was interrupted by Ser Gilmore who was yelling from the other side of the room. "Here I am, killing giant rats. How noble of me!"

Nan gasped, her eyes widening so large that they nearly popped out of their sockets. "Giant rats?!" she said. "In my kitchen? Impossible!"

The two laborers giggled at Nan's outburst, though the female accidently dropped the plate she had in her hand. It fell into the sink full of warm water, splashing a flood of soapy liquid all over the two. They laughed even harder as soap stuck to their dirty faces.

Nan grumbled. "You two!" she said angrily. "Because of you pathetic souls, the kitchen is not as clean as it should be!"

The elves closed their mouths and stood silent as Nan continued. "You're both going to start cleaning extra hard, and that means less pay and more work!" She rattled her throat and spat a large amount of saliva onto the floor next to the workers' feet. They gave one another gloomy looks as she stormed over to the cabinets near the larder. "Back to work!" she ordered. The two elves sighed as they resumed their duties. The evident hatred of elves showed through Nan's words. This was not an uncommon thing in Ferelden.

"Is that all of them?" Ser Gilmore inquired as he pushed his bloodied sword through the remaining rat.

Rosemary glanced around the room. She couldn't see the floor; the color red was splattered everywhere and the corpses of dead rodents covered it. The teen set her hazel eyes on the dog. He wagged his tail and licked his teeth. The larder was silent.

"I suppose so, Ser Gilmore", she answered, sliding her daggers back into their scabbards that were attached to her back. "Nan won't be happy with this mess." She could already hear her barking voice inside of her head. Not a good image.

Ser Gilmore stared at Thaddeus. The dog cut its pupils at him, but did nothing else as the man cautiously pat his furry head. "Can you do something about this gory mess?" Ser Gilmore asked the mabari. Thaddeus barked happily as his long tongue sagged in between his gums. He pranced to a nearby rat and helped himself to an afternoon snack.

Rosemary gasped as Thaddeus devoured the remnants of a dead vermin. "Ser Gilmore! That is just… absolutely disgusting!"

Ser Gilmore shrugged his shoulders, the chainmail he wore clinking as he did so. "Nan would just start yelling again, and we don't want that, now do we?"

She sighed. Perhaps he was right. Those poor elven servants probably had to listen to her rant on and on every day… well, she was calm and all when Rosemary was a child; the woman took good care of her and Fergus as their mother and father attended to other tasks. But now...well, she supposed that standing in the heat of a steamy kitchen all day, seven days a week would make you lose your temper easily. Rosemary knew she would go on some sort of freakish rampage if someone took even the slightest bit of tone with her.

"I suppose you do have a point, Ser Gilmore," Rosemary admitted as she watched Thaddeus sink his teeth into the final rat. He shook his head savagely, tearing the deceased rodent in half. The girl felt a sense of nausea build up in her throat as she turned her head from the scene.

"I can't bear to watch…" she muttered as she shut her eyes tightly, Ser Gilmore laughing heartily.

After a few more moments of Thaddeus biting and ripping deceased rats, he trotted in front of Rosemary and barked. She looked down to see his canines smeared in blood and chunks of meat and dark gray fur jammed in between them. He had a joyous smile on his face as he spun around in circles.

Ser Gilmore raised his eyebrows, looking around the larder in amazement.

"You have to give him credit," he said, stepping in different areas of the room in awe, "just look at this place; it's practically spotless, my lady."

She peered at the floor of the larder. The concrete was licked clean of blood and the vile rats that had covered it had been gulped down, too. All that was left were scattered piles of hollow bones. Quite impressive.

"Oh, what can I say," she said, kneeling on the ground to scratch the dog's ears. Thaddeus, slobber bubbling up in his mouth as she hugged his neck, sounded a happy bark. "He is a warhound, after all," Rosemary said. "Ha, maybe that's just what they do".

She turned her eyes to look at Ser Gilmore who stood wiping dark red blood off of his shoulder. He spat onto the armor and polished it with his thumb.

Rosemary chuckled at how perfect he needed to look. Wouldn't a soldier want to go up to other recruits and proudly say "Look everyone! I've just slain an immense horde of flesh-eating rats! See all this crusted blood on my arms? Yes, that's right; I really did kill something today after all. Oh, no, it wasn't that bad. Well, it did catch me off guard, and I was thinking about this girl at the time, and- w-what? Hey, I wasn't scared! It just caught me by surprise, is all…"

"It's still gross though," Rosemary said. How could one not find it repulsive that a dog (her best friend, in this case) potentially became a relentless flesh eating fiend? Ser Gilmore smiled as he raised one of his eyebrows. "Then you would absolutely die of nausea if you were to experience what all of us have to witness." He shuddered. "Pretty revotling, to be honest, my lady. If you could only imagine..."

Yes...if she could only imagine.

Rosemary let loose of Thaddeus and rose to her feet. Flaky dirt caked to her kneecaps from where she had been sitting and drool slowly slid down the middle of her cheek. She took the back of her hand and dragged it across her soft face, though it only caused the gluey saliva to smear even more. Ser Gilmore chuckled at her as the two exited the larder with Thaddeus trotting behind.

She rested atop of her bed, her eyes hesitating to close for an afternoon nap. Rosemary turned onto her left side and buried her head into a pillow, exhausted from practicing her use of daggers on the wooden test dummy. Her palms were smothered in burning abrasions from keeping such a tight grip on the handle of the blades; the layer of skin had practically melted away, leaving behind burning marks that pulsed within open flesh. She had carefully taken long strips of gauze from inside Nan's larder to try to soothe the excruciating scorching sensation that tingled deep within her hands, but the bandages did no good. She sighed and told herself that she would retire from honing her skills and that tomorrow she would just go ahead and show her father what she'd been working on for hours and hours each day for the past week. She just knew he would agree to allow her to travel with he and her brother.

As she began to slowly drift into slumber- the anguishing discomfort that purged down from inside her wrist and all the way to the tip of her fingertips beginning to dissolve-, Rosemary heard rhythmic footsteps approaching from outside of her bedroom door. It was not the sound of a person, but more of an animal whose sharp claws were scraping against the wooden floor, creating a tick tick tick noise with each prancing step it took.

She slowly sat up in the bed, wincing as the pain aroused once more because of the movement in her hands. Her eyes fluttered, the long, black eyelashes brushing swiftly underneath her eyelids. When Rosemary opened her eyes, she saw Thaddeus standing at the doorway, his tail thumping against the wood of the entrance, his big brown eyes glimmering in the light that shone from the window. He had something strange punctured into his teeth; it was about the size of her childhood doll Alessa, though it was furry and covered in dried blood, and was emitting a repulsive, unholy smell. The girl gasped, choking on the air that sucked between her teeth, the horrid odor creeping its way through her nostrils, and covered her nose with her sore hands. Dogs had sharp senses, especially in smell…how could her mabari not be gagging at this…this thing?

"Thaddeus!" Rosemary exclaimed as she stood up from her position.

"What in Andraste's name is that?!"

He proceeded over to his master's side to show her his prize. The girl's eyes watered as the dog drew nearer, the rank smell almost killing her. She sighed and knelt down, plugging her nose, to see what Thaddeus had for her to examine.

It was a rabbit that appeared to have snow white fur, but that was before the poor thing had gotten covered in a foul bloodbath, thanks to the mabari that had it locked inside of its mouth. Blades of grass were garnished along the back of the animal as well. One of the ears had been detached from the scalp, and the other was brutally chewed and on the brink of tearing. Its paws dangled in the air below the mabari's jaw and the animal's cotton-like tail was splattered with dirt and grime. Rosemary couldn't believe what she was looking at!

"Thaddeus," she said scornfully, pointing her finger right at his nose, his eyes crossing as he looked at her finger, "did you do this?"

The dog barked happily, causing the slaughtered rabbit to slip from in between his teeth. It slumped onto the floor right in front of her feet, causing its head to turn upward, its black, soulless eyes staring straight at Rosemary. She shrieked and jumped back from sitting on the ground, backing straight into her nightstand as a result. The structure wobbled back and forth as her head pummeled right into it, her legs kicking out in front of the dog.

Thaddeus pushed aside the dead critter with his nose and walked over to Rosemary's side as she groaned with shearing pain. He whined repeatedly as he nuzzled his head next to hers, his soft fur rubbing against her cheek. Rosemary scratched his muscular back as she sat up and leaned against the nightstand. Her head pounded a little now, yet her hands were still throbbing with torturing pain. She looked down at them, her eyes feeling fuzzy from the discomfort. The blisters that burned beneath her fingers had grown to a burgundy shade of color. She couldn't bear it any longer.

"It's not your fault," Rosemary told Thaddeus as she rose to her feet, watchful as to how she used her hands. He stared at the rabbit on the floor, his eyes full of remorse that he had slain the innocent animal. He gently lifted it into his mouth, careful not to sink his fangs back into the rabbit. He whimpered at the small critter as he walked back in front of his master. It probably had friends, a family with children it needed to get back to provide it with the food that they longed to eat.

She nuzzled the dog's head. "Just…" Rosemary mumbled softly, "let's go dispose of it kindly and properly."

It seemed as if the mabari had nodded at her request, and, his head drooping so low it nearly touched the floor, walked out of the bedroom.

Perhaps she should would fetch her mother afterwards to get something done about those wounds… Yes, she would do just that.

Nan stood in front of one of the various cabinets, reaching for ingredients required for tonight's dinner- plump roasted chicken, bottled red wine, fresh steamed vegetables, and a crisp apple pie for dessert.

She turned to Rosemary, Ser Gilmore, and the dog, packages of assorted foods crammed in between her arms. She cocked her head at them, her grey hair that was pulled into a loose bun slapping her right ear. She gave them a bitter look, her mouth puckering as if she had swallowed a pint full of freshly squeezed grapefruit juice. She walked over in front of the group, her footing brisk.

"There he is, as brazen as you please," she spoke harshly down at Thaddeus as he whimpered into Rosemary's leg, "licking his chops after helping himself to the roast, no doubt!"

Rosemary took in a deep breath and held it in, trying to hide how frustrated she was. Yes, Thaddeus was covered in splatters of red and he was cleaning his teeth with his long, drooling tongue, but it was not the blood of the bird for tonight's dinner, but of the fiendish rats that had dwelled inside of her larder.

Ser Gilmore crossed his arms. "Actually," he said correcting her, "he was defending your larder from rats." The young soldier smirked at Nan. "Big ones."

The woman narrowed her eyes at the three, knowing that she had been mistaken of the mabari's intentions. Thaddeus barked happily and stuck his snout back into the room that lay soundless. The hole in the wall sat empty of infested vermin, and the roast sat perfectly still on the top of one of the few shelves in the larder. It was wrapped in thin aluminum and was resting inside a brown paper bag.

They had all been oblivious to the distraught elves who stood in the corner of the room. Their hands covered their dry mouths that had quenched for thirst, and their small eyes were bulged with fear. The two servants quietly stepped forward so they could notice their presence, the dirty aprons swaying behind them.

The female elf removed her blistered hands from her lips and decided to speak while the male remained hushed. "R-rats?" she asked, her words quivering and hard to understand. "Not the… the large grey ones?"

Before Nan could scream at them to mind their own business and get back to cleaning the kitchens, Rosemary nodded at her question and motioned for her and the quiet man to observe the scene. The two gave each other worried looks, then made their way over to Rosemary, Ser Gilmore and Thaddeus, steering as far from Nan as they could, frightened that the woman would slap them. Nan shot them an angered expression, then shook her head and tightened her grasp on the items of food that were squeezed between her arms.

The laborers poked their heads into the larder as the others backed out of their way. The several scattered piles of gnawed bones made the elves gasp. They then noticed the aperture in the stone created by the rats and turned back to Rosemary with confused looks upon their faces.

"But," the male elf spoke, glancing back into the room, "how…where is the mess?"

She smiled at the man and rubbed Thaddeus's pointed ears. "You can thank him," she answered as the dog's tail shook back and worth, his large eyes beaming with happiness. The elves grinned at one other, relieved that one of their many duties had been instantly crossed off the list.

The elven girl walked in front of the brawny mabari, her face devoid of an expression. The dog looked up at her, his face lacking a smile as well. "Can…" she mumbled, "will he bite?"

Rosemary chuckled to herself, thinking that Ser Gilmore had, in a way, acted the same as she had. "No, ma'am," she told her, "he won't." She stared at Thaddeus who didn't take his eyes off the elf. "I promise."

The servant slowly reached her hand out to pet Thaddeus's head. The dog stood motionless, watching the girl's movement. As her hand touched his head, Thaddeus leaned into the elf, adoring the appreciation she was giving him. She knelt down to meet the dog's pupils, her long fingers stroking the edges of his ears. He woofed in her face, his wet nose grazing against hers as they enjoyed a moment that receded from the monotonous hours of cleaning. Soon the male elf joined his friend, scratching and playing with Rosemary's companion. The two seemed to be absorbed in the time spent with the loveable dog, their cheeks being licked by Thaddeus's tongue, having a special connection with the mabari whom he had with no one else except for his owner.

For the first time in her life, Rosemary saw exhilarating smiles form on the two elves faces, not because of a silly joke one had told another, but because the two had felt as if they were loved, really, actually loved by someone. She glanced over at Ser Gilmore who stood silently next to her, observing the invigorating scene. He gave his friend a cheery grin, and she gave him one in return.

Nan barked orders at her laborers from the other room, but the two ignored her calls (which never, ever happened), and continued to sit and caress the large hound for as long as they could. Finally, Nan stormed to the doorway in the kitchen, her hands on her hips, and a dishrag in her left and an oven mitt in her right. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but closed it and decided not to, instead standing and gazing at her workers that endured petting and playing with the hound that she despised greatly. For a minute, Rosemary thought she saw a slight smile of tenderness grow onto the cook's face, but perhaps she was just seeing things…

Eventually, Nan walked over to them and stood over the elves. The two of them looked up at her as she said "Supper is being prepared and the stove needs a good scrub before I begin cooking the vegetables." The servants glanced at each other and then at Ser Gilmore and I, the beams of happiness on their faces beginning to fade.

"Thank you very much, kind folk," the male whispered as they slowly rose to their feet, their rough hands sliding off the sides of the dog's furry head. He barked happily as he retreated back to my side.

As the servants departed to begin their next assignments, Nan glared down at Thaddeus. "Humph," she breathed, crossing her arms, "I bet that dog led those rats in there to begin with."

Thaddeus whined, cocking his head as if to reply "Why must I cause all the trouble? I swear it wasn't me this time!"

Nan sneered at the dog's whimpering. "Oh, don't even start," she told him as Ser Gilmore and Rosemary watched with curiosity. "I'm immune to your so-called charms!" she said.

The mabari whined again, this time louder and more heartbreaking. Oh, Nan... spare a poor dog some mutton? Rats leave a nasty aftertaste, you know…"

Nan sighed and brushed past us and into the larder. She dug inside of one of the various barrels and came back with scraps of meat that dripped with a scrumptious honey glaze. The food definitely had the mabari beaming with joy, and it even had me and Ser Gilmore's stomachs' growling.

"Here, then" Nan spoke, placing the heap of meat in front of Thaddeus. "Take these pork bits and don't say that Nan never gives you anything." The mabari looked up at the ornery chef, shocked that she had given him some of her famous oven roasted pork chops, but happily obliged and dove right into the meal. His muzzle became slathered in thick, sweet sauce as he continued eating. The elderly cook scoffed. "Bloody dog," she mumbled.

When Thaddeus finished the mutton, he looked up at the rest of them. He cleaned his snout with the saliva from his tongue, and then barked with glee at Nan, his small tail wagging in the air. She paid him hardly any mind and stared at Ser Gilmore and Rosemary.

"Now off with you three," she spoke. "There is much to be done here." The cook then started back to the kitchen to begin supper, hopefully going to take it easy on the working elves. When she reached the door, she turned back to face the three and said with a kindly tone of voice "Thank you." She stared into the dog's dark brown eyes. "All of you."