A/N: If you ever get to watch the 1965 movie Dr. Who and the Daleks, do it. It jumbles about everything involved with the First Doctor's run, but it does it beautifully and campily and bless this show.

[Rough] ages in this chapter go as follows: Johan at 61, Daniel at 44, Clara at 42, Martha at 39, Lena at 11, Astra and Tara at 9, Sterling at 5, and Maglina and Oriana at 3

Chapter Eleven: The War in the Cold

It had all started with one of the worst snowstorms in living Kasterborsian memory. Everything in Gallifrey had ground to a halt; even if someone had wanted to brave the cold and the snow and the whipping winds that could knock a grown man over, there wouldn't be anyone around to conduct business with. Snow dumped across the land faster than it could be cleared and prompted many a joke about how the march seemed frozen in time.

All things come to an end, however, and the snowstorm eventually subsided. The morning after the winds began to die down was sunny and blinding-bright and prompted the Marchioness Kasterborous and Gallifrey to send her husband outside with their children. The Baroness Coal-on-the-Hill, who had been home on leave when the storm hit, sent her husband and daughter out as well, deciding it would be an excellent day to relax with a nice pot of tea and a good friend. It did not matter that they had just spent the past three weeks chatting and visiting (since as soon as it was realized the storm was going to bury the cottage, the Pinks were nearly ordered to move into the castle's guest wing), as they had not been able to speak alone, which was intrinsically different from being surrounded by husbands and children that forced the flavor of their conversation. While neither couple had secrets, it was still understood that one-on-one was easier than one-on-one-on-one-on-one-on-six.

…and this was how the Marquis found himself shivering in the cold alongside his children's tutor as they watched their children frolic in the freshly-fallen snow.

"Remind me why neither of us employ a governess," he grumbled, pulling his thick cloak closer around him. The breeze was slight, though it cut through his body and straight to his bones, making even the fur-lined fabric feel as thin as the most delicate gossamer curtain.

"Let's see, Martha and I don't want Oriana to be raised by a stranger and become detached from her roots, Clara has simply always adored children, and you… you're just mental," the tutor muttered, teeth chattering. They halted conversation as his daughter came over to them, jamming herself between his knees and wrapping his quilted cloak around her shivering body.

"It's too cold out here Dad," Oriana whined. "Can't we play inside where there's a fireplace and kitchens to heat everything?"

"Mum said an hour, so we're giving her an hour," he sighed. The tutor bent down and fussed over his daughter's clothes. She was decked from head to toe in thick wool, with hopes that playtime would assist in keeping her warm. "Hey, why don't you join up with the others? It looks like they're having fun."

"…but Dad…" she protested. Instead of giving in, the tutor adjusted the clasp on her cape and whispered something in her ear.

"Go on," he said. "Try it."

"Okay…" the girl replied, not wholly believing what she was just told. She then turned around and ran back towards her friends.

The Marquis raised a brow in curiosity as he watched her leave. "What did you tell her, Daniel? That was like magic."

"It's not magic; I just know my daughter. Don't worry, you'll see." The tutor straightened and kept a close eye on Oriana as she approached her friends and barreled directly into an unsuspecting Sterling, knocking him over into a snowbank while she was able to stay upright and dry. "There; now wasn't that easy?"

"That was not exactly what I had in mind," the Marquis grumbled, watching as his son tried to escape the snow. The more Sterling flailed, the more snow seemed to fall on him from the surrounding bank with nothing either Oriana or his little sister could do to help him. The Marquis walked up to the snowbank and plucked the boy out, setting him down so he could brush off what hadn't already melted into his clothes.

"What did you do that for, Ori?!" Sterling sniffled. "Now I'm all wet!"

"Dad says it's what people do in the snow!" she protested. "I thought Dad was the one who taught us stuff, so that means he's right!"

"Not always, child," the Marquis glowered, trying not to project any of his irritation onto her. Oriana was an innocent pawn in this and there was no reason to potentially frighten her for what was only logical. "Your father is correct about many, many things, which is why he is the castle schoolmaster, but he does not know all things."

"…like what to do in the snow?"

"Yes, like what to do in the snow."

"Then what do people do in the snow, Papa?" Maglina asked curiously. "Astra and Lena are just walking around and looking at things, and Tara is throwing snowballs at squirrels, but we don't want to do any of that."

The Marquis paused and thought. He had of course played in the snow with his first wife, Melody, both when they were children and as young adults, throwing snowballs at one another and tumbling through snowbanks until their wind-whipped faces were red as her hair and every bit of them was soaked down to their skin. Those were not exactly memories to share with the younger children just yet, but they were allowed to be privy to some information.

"I had a friend growing up and her mama taught us how to properly play in the snow," he explained. It was still the truth, merely not the entirety of it. He carefully picked up a handful of snow and instructed the children to watch as he packed it into a ball. "See?"

"I don't want to throw a snowball at a squirrel," Sterling muttered. The Marquis shook his head.

"You don't throw this at squirrels—I have warned Tara countless times that those creatures learn and will one day attack her so that she regrets packing a single ball—you throw this at Sir Daniel."

"Why my dad?" Oriana wondered.

"We throw this at your father, Little One, because he has the ability to throw one back. It's much fairer this way. Go ahead. Try it."

After taking the snowball from the Marquis's hand, Oriana walked up to the tutor, who had his back turned to examine the large icicles dripping from the eaves, and threw it at his shoulder. The Marquis cackled as the tutor jumped in surprise, looking down at his daughter in shock. He was laughing so hard, in fact, that he did not see that the tutor had packed a snowball of his own until it hit him square in the face.

"Ha! That's what you get for trying to turn my own daughter on me, Johan!" the tutor laughed. He scooped up a handful of snow and whipped it at the Marquis, dashing behind an evergreen shrub for protection. The Marquis dodged the attack easily and found a statue to use as a barricade.

"Children! Hurry up and get under cover!" he hissed at his son and daughter.

"…but Papa…" Maglina whined. Sterling glanced over at Oriana, who was also standing out in the open. She shrugged at him, and he shrugged back. He grabbed Maglina by the hand and the three met by a stone bench, where they cleared off the fallen snow and sat down to watch.

"Kids, respect your father!" the Marquis snapped, waving for his children to return. He had to duck behind the statue again as another snowball attempted to hit its mark.

"We are being respectful, Papa," Sterling replied, kicking his feet as he sat. "We're not joining Sir Daniel!"

…which, of course, was not the answer the Marquis had wanted to hear.

"Isn't that Papa and Sir Daniel throwing snowballs at one another…?" Astra mused. Lena looked down from the pinecone she was examining on a tree branch and turned her attention to where her sister was pointing. Sure enough, there was their father and tutor whipping snow balls at one another while their siblings and Oriana watched on in a dazed stupor.

"I'm inheriting all of Kasterborous and Gallifrey from that?" she deadpanned. "How does Mama put up with him?"

"Well, it's always worse when you start looking at things deeper," Astra shrugged. A tiny chipmunk scuttled up to her and she picked it up, allowing it to rest on her shoulder. "Remember what Mama and Lady Martha told us the other day? That Sir Daniel was in love with Mama before she married Papa? There's that, plus the fact he teaches us and…"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Lena scoffed, rolling her eyes. "We have extremely odd parents with creepy backstories." Another voice broke her focus, with both girls snapping their heads towards the other side of the gardens, towards the topiaries. Tara was shouting in the ceremonial tongue, curses and threats and fragments of ancient spells, as she tried to dodge and outrun an onslaught of tiny fluffs of fur that seemed to be bearing down at her from any direction that was possible. Her sisters watched as she ran across the gardens in an attempt to flee, not moving a muscle in an effort to save her.

"I may only be older than her by twelve minutes, but you're the one who agreed to have her be your field general when we're older," Astra smirked. The Earlessa groaned and smacked her forehead in frustration.

"Sod the hour we're supposed to be out here; I'm going to the library. You coming?"

"Did you even have to ask?" With the chipmunk put down, the two eldest sisters began to trudge back towards the castle, eventually taking pity on the younger three and dragging them along as well. They brought them to the nursery and once they were all in clothes that were warm and dry they went and ordered cocoa to have in the library as the five of them sat with their books and some blankets, fully ignoring their fathers warring in the gardens and Tara's curse of her own doing.

It was not until later, when the Marchioness and Baroness's tea was interrupted by a scratched-up Tara slinking in requesting first aid, was anything treated as being amiss. The Marchioness left her daughter to be tended by the Baroness (who was in full scolding mode) as she went to go find out where their husbands had gone that was so important that they apparently ignored their six children. She found them collapsed side-by-side in a snowbank, breathing heavily and soaked in melted snow as they verbally sniped at one another. It was then her turn to scold as she dragged both men inside by the ear, shouting angrily as she pulled them through the castle corridors. They were too exhausted from their quarrel to do much more than follow the enraged woman as she lambasted them in front of the staff, all of whom hid their snickers until the storm was out of earshot. It was widely agreed that although the snow that had flown for nearly an entire month had been dreadful, being at the receiving end of a snow-fevered Marchioness was horrid… as well as fully avoidable.