X. SAMMY

A refreshing breeze blew through the open window of the kitchen. It felt so good to feel it rushing around him, cooling his skin, and creating goose bumps all along his arms, that he dropped the dough onto the floor. Cook groaned, loud and irritated.

"Another one? Pay attention Sammy. I swear, you are the worst assistant ever," Cook said.

Sammy bent down to pick up the dough and couldn't suppress a chuckle. It was not the first time Cook had called him the worst assistant ever. Cook called everyone that, even old Bertha who made the best stew in the arling everyone said. It was hard to pay attention to his work when he could feel the air changing, the wind picking up, and the sky darkening. There was a storm coming and all Sammy wanted to do was go outside and greet it.

Instead, he made a show of brushing off the dough while crouching. It was completely ruined. Nobody would want a piece of bread full of floor things.

"Just leave it be," Cook said as he came around and grabbed Sammy by the ponytail. Cook gently pulled Sammy up. "Take your butter fingers and go organize the larder."

"Aah," Sammy whined. "Can't I just go now?"

"When I see the larder neat and orderly, you can go." Cook said firmly.

Sammy sighed loudly and then went over to the larder as Cook had told him. There were no windows in the small storage room so he had to light a torch to see. When the torch was lit, Sammy grumbled to himself. This is going to take forever.

There were sacks littered around the floor, half open crates piled in wherever there was space and the shelves had jars strewn everywhere, not all of them were standing upright. A loud rumble of thunder shook the floor, rattling the jars and causing the torch to flicker.

"I'd rather be outside," he said as he kicked a sack out of the way. Storms were his favorite part of summer. When he was really little, he used to count with his father how long it took for a thunder to come after a lightning. Now, he just liked to see the storm clouds roll across the sky, to feel the wind through his hair, and to stand in the drenching rain. Maybe it was stupid, to tempt fate like that, but he hadn't gotten hit by a bolt yet.

Sammy resolved to get the larder straightened out as soon as he could. Thinking of the storm brewing outside, his legs moved faster, his arms lifted faster, and his organizational skills emerged from somewhere deep inside himself, when usually they hid, and he got everything as neat as possible. He piled all the sacks in a neat pile, rearranged and closed the crates, after first making sure there were no rats that had taken up residence in them. As he was shifting the jars into neat and orderly rows, Oghren came waddling into the room. At first, Sammy assumed the dwarf hadn't noticed him, but as Oghren set his eyes on something on a higher shelf, he called to him.

"Boy, get that flagon for me." Oghren said without looking at Sammy.

Sammy couldn't help the smug feeling that crept up into him. He was finally taller than all the dwarves in the Keep. Oghren, though, still called him boy, which always got on his nerves.

"I'm not a boy anymore." Sammy said. "And I have a name."

Oghren turned to him, scratching his long, red, braided beard. "So, Longshot, now that you're taller than me, you're a man? And what, you're ten? That hardly makes you a man."

Sammy narrowed his green eyes in annoyance. "I'm thirteen." Well, he was still only twelve, but he'd soon be thirteen anyway, so what did it matter if he lied to Oghren?

"When I was thirteen, I'd already killed some sodding darkspawn and won a Proving." Oghren said with a teasing smirk.

"You're just saying that." Sammy said. He didn't believe for one second that Oghren was telling the truth. "Besides, I'd have done all that already if everyone would just let me."

Oghren laughed, which caused Sammy to frown in indignation. The dwarf shouldn't laugh at him. Sammy would be a great warrior one day. He'd even go to Orzammar and show everyone who doubted him by winning a Proving, just like Tristan had. Oghren wouldn't be laughing then.

"Boy, are you going to help this poor short man, or what?" Oghren asked after his laughing had finally ceased.

"If you put it that way…" Sammy was about to agree, but a clever idea came to him as the torchlight glinted off of Oghren's two-handed axe at his back. "Can I hold your axe first?"

Oghren looked puzzled, even a little nervous and then he relaxed as he seemed to realize what Sammy was asking. "I doubt you could lift it."

"Well, there's only one way to find out." Sammy held out his hands and waited. Oghren hesitated, looking at Sammy and then at the flagon several times before relenting. He took the axe from his back and placed the handle in Sammy's hands. He didn't let go right away.

"Don't swing it." Oghren warned.

Sammy nodded, impatient for Oghren to let go. When Oghren did, Sammy almost let the axe drop onto his feet. It was heavy, he had to admit. Not because Oghren warned him not to do it, but because he doubted he could, he didn't try to swing the axe. He didn't want to admit defeat though, so he walked around the room with the axe in his hands, his muscles straining in his arms and breaking into a sweat. How does Oghren carry this axe on his back all the time?

Finally, Sammy could hold it no longer. "Take it back," he said, holding the weapon out to the dwarf.

Oghren watched him, grinning, letting Sammy hold the axe longer, though Sammy really didn't want to hold it anymore. The dwarf was teaching him some kind of lesson in humility no doubt, but Sammy could care less at the moment. The axe would fall out of his hands soon if Oghren didn't take it back.

"Please, Oghren, take it back, before I drop it on my feet and they get chopped off and then Melisende will get mad at you and probably take revenge on you…" Sammy said with a barely concealed grin.

"Fine, fine, give it here." Oghren took the axe back. "The flagon, now."

Another thunder pounded overhead. Sammy noticed Oghren flinch. "Scared of thunder?" he teased.

Oghren muttered a denial and he motioned toward the flagon. Sammy reached up with his right arm, grinning with satisfaction at Oghren as he clutched the flagon and brought it down to the dwarf's level. He handed it over to Oghren, proud of himself for being so tall now.

"Thank you boy." Oghren said, slapping Sammy on the back in thanks and sending the boy lurching forward. The dwarf may be short, but he was strong, Sammy would at least give him that.

Oghren took his leave of the larder and Sammy took a good look around the room. It was neat and orderly enough. Cook would have to let him free now.

…

Free from his duties at last, Sammy raced through the halls of the Keep. He dodged around servants, guards, and petitioners, causing a racket. The people he nearly knocked over in his haste to get outside and greet the storm cursed loudly and mumbled angrily. Sammy laughed, until he saw that he wasn't the only cause of the grumbles. Loki was bouncing along the halls as well, his eyes focused on the orange fur ball that was Ser-Pounce-a-Lot.

"Pounce!" Sammy exclaimed, skidding to a halt. The cat darted under a man's legs, causing the man to flail and catch his balance on the wall. Loki's lithe form grazed the same man, causing him to fall.

"Damned animals!" the man yelled with a shake of his fist. "This is a Keep, not a Tevinter menagerie."

Sammy charged ahead once again. He was going to rescue Pounce. The cat was his friend and couldn't defend himself against a mabari. Loki was always chasing Pounce, but Sammy vowed this would be the last time. Somehow, he would make Loki understand that chasing the cat was wrong.

Sammy followed the orange blur, just as Loki did. The cat ran down the halls, sending more people flailing to the side, hunching against the walls to avoid being run over by the mabari hound. Loki barked as Pounce dashed down the steps into the courtyard. Sammy followed, close on their heels, or should he say, their paws.

The sound of wooden swords banging against each other rang through Sammy's ears, a sweet melody, he thought. He came to a halt as he spied Melisende in practice with Madoc. Pounce didn't care about disturbing the match and he ran right through first Madoc's legs and then Melisende's. Loki copied the cat's moves, only he was too big to fit through Madoc's legs, and too busy countering a sword swing, Madoc never knew what hit him. The mabari rammed into his legs, sending Madoc falling backwards into the dirt. Melisende flailed slightly, but caught her balance as Loki stood upright to greet her on two paws, all thoughts of Pounce were removed from the hound's mind as he spied his master.

"Loki!" Melisende chastised the dog. She set him back on four legs, but held firmly onto his collar.

"He was after Pounce." Sammy said, entering the practice circle.

"Bad dog!" Melisende said. Still holding onto Loki's collar, she flung an apologetic look to Madoc, who stood up quickly and brushed the dirt from his pants. "I'm so sorry Madoc. Are you alright?"

Madoc's cheeks flushed red, but he nodded his head just the same. "I'm fine."

Sammy looked around for Pounce and spotted the cat perched on a nearby tree limb, calmly licking his paws. Sammy imagined Ser-Pounce-a-Lot was feeling smug about once again escaping the mabari hound. Sammy laughed.

Melisende shot him a warning look, and he ceased laughing, and then she quickly turned her attention to Madoc. "I realize you might want to flog the creature right now, but would you mind taking him back to the kennel?"

Madoc chuckled. "I could never hurt a dog, even if he made me look like an imbecile." Madoc accepted the charge of Loki and lead the hound away. Loki gave no resistance, only panted loudly and hung out his tongue in exhaustion. Melisende shook her head at the dog and when Madoc was no longer in view she turned to Sammy in reprimand.

"What?" Sammy shrugged and then burst into laughter again. "It was funny, seeing Madoc with his arms all like this and falling into the dirt." Sammy re-enacted the whole episode. Melisende shook her head, but gave a smile to the boy anyway.

"You shouldn't make fun of people."

"But it was funny and he didn't get hurt." Sammy laughed again. He heard the ebullient laughter of a man behind him. Sammy turned to see who was laughing with him. It was the drunken Antivan who had showed up at the Keep a few days ago.

"It certainly was funny, but boy," Leandro said, "your expert impression of the fall was even more comical."

Sammy grinned at the visitor.

"You're still here?" Melisende asked with a hint of annoyance. Sammy didn't understand her tone, or her sudden change in mood. Leandro was nice enough, though Sammy hadn't gotten the chance to chat up the man. He'd heard some of the servants say he was a reformed smuggler. That was such an interesting fact that Sammy had so many questions for the man.

"I was just on my way out," Leandro said, recoiling slightly as a thunder cracked overhead. "I thought I'd wait for the storm to pass through first. Nothing compares to a storm at sea, of course, but I'd rather not be struck by lightning today."

"Did you ever see someone struck by lightning?" Sammy asked.

"Only lightning sent by a mage." Leandro said with a grin. Sammy glanced at Melisende. She looked disinterested in the current conversation.

"I've seen Tristan do that once. Well, not on a person, but on a tree stump. And Anders, too. Velanna can do it, I'm sure, but she never wants to do it just for fun." Sammy said. He couldn't help but feel sad. It was bad enough that Anders had run off, and then the Maker seemed to want to take more away from Sammy when he took the Commander away in a shipwreck.

Melisende had been saved, Sammy couldn't figure out if it was by the Maker's hand or perhaps by her own hand, but she had found her way home. Sammy had been so glad to see her. He couldn't have stood losing her, too. Besides the Commander, he'd already lost his parents. He thought everything would be okay again. But something had happened between Melisende and Nathaniel. They were not speaking to each other and neither of them would deign to explain to Sammy what was the matter. Sammy could feel the tension in the air. He imagined he could cut it with a kitchen knife, it was so thick. He wished things would return to normal. But he knew now, that nothing ever did.

A flash of lightning brightened the darkened sky for a swift second. Sammy held his arms spread out to the side and tilted his head to the sky with his eyes closed. "One, two, three, four…" he counted out loud. The wind blew at him, threatening to lift him off the ground. He almost wished it would, to see what it was like to fly, to see the world from above, like a bird. "… five, six…"

The thunder clapped above and brought with it a torrent of rain. The raindrops fell quickly. They were cool and felt fine on his face, dripping from his forehead into his mouth.

"Sammy!" Melisende's bark broke into his reverie. He opened his eyes to find Leandro smiling as the rain drenched him and Melisende worriedly glancing at the sky. She took Sammy's hand, much to his regret, and pulled him under a sheltered part of the courtyard. Leandro followed.

"I wanted to stay in the rain." Sammy said.

"It's too dangerous." Melisende said. She leaned against the stone wall and crossed her arms. Sammy sighed. Sometimes, she acted like she was his mother. He didn't really mind, as it reminded him that somebody cared about him, but sometimes it got on his nerves. Like now.

"Ah," Sammy said, "you're no fun anymore."

Melisende seemed hurt by his words and he immediately regretted saying them.

"I'm sorry." Sammy quickly said in the hopes of undoing the hurt he had caused her.

"Don't worry about it." Melisende replied with a weak smile. He did worry about it though. He worried about her. She looked so sad these days and she avoided Nathaniel. What if she left? What if she turned out to be like all the other adults he'd known? What if she left him? He didn't think he could handle that. He decided she must be sad because of Tristan so he pushed his fear away.

"I miss him too. Tristan, I mean." Sammy said quietly. He caught a look that passed between Leandro and Melisende as he said his words. He didn't understand it, so he pretended not to notice and he continued, "I'm glad you're home. You're the only one who cares about an orphan like me."

"Oh Sammy, that's not true." Melisende said, squeezing his hand in reassurance. He was too old for hand squeezes and the gesture did nothing to ease his fear. He gently wrenched his hand free. Melisende continued anyway. "There are plenty of people who care about you."

"You know," Leandro said, "I was an orphan child too. A fine man raised me, took care of me when nobody else would, and taught me how to be a good person. You might think you're alone, but you never are. Blood doesn't always make family."

Melisende looked at Leandro questioningly. "A fine man taught you how to be a good person? Yet, you ended up a smuggler."

"We're not all scum." Leandro retorted. To Sammy, the man looked slightly offended. "If it weren't for that man, I would not be here today. And neither would your friend."

Melisende looked even more confused now. Sammy was beyond understanding what they were talking about. Stupid adults think they can hide everything from me. He did get that Leandro was trying to make him see that orphans could have family, that blood wasn't always a requirement. But he'd had enough of their talk.

"I'm bored." Sammy stated. He burst out from under the shelter into the rain, leaving behind the adults and their puzzled looks and cryptic words. They couldn't catch him, and he chuckled as he ran through the rain.