A/N: Actual Whouffaldi is to come in the second part, because once the chapter was all typed up I realized "hey this is really long twice as long as normal I should probably break it up a bit" so many apologies (though this chapter is sort of important as context for the second part). I also put Johan and Lena's ages in the previous chapter, since I realized I forgot it just now, so hopefully that makes some rereads a bit easier.

Rough ages are as follows: Johan at 64, Daniel at 47, Clara at 45, Lena at 14, Astra and Tara at 12, Sterling at 8, Maglina and Oriana at 6, and Seren at 1

Chapter Fourteen: The Cadet Branch (I)

The air was bustling with excitement as Castle Gallifrey was in the middle of preparations for the Marquis and Marchioness's twentieth wedding anniversary. It was sure to be a grand one in the Kasterborsian tradition; the fifth years were quiet and intimate, and the odd ones depended on the couple, but the turning of a decade was meant for hearty celebrations, no matter if they be lord or smallfolk. Servants milled about preparing for the multitude of guests that would soon be arriving and the children could not sit still.

"Sir Daniel? Can't we go watch the decorations go up in the governance hall and along the grounds?" Lena asked, her hand politely raised as she fidgeted in her seat. "I don't remember the last time Mama and Papa held an event this big."

"You don't remember because you were just barely in school then," the tutor sighed. He instructed Maglina and Oriana to continue with their reading and went over to sit next to the teenager. "I can't let you go until you're done for the day, and if I let you go I have to let everyone go."

"We can make it a field trip," Astra offered from down the table. "I think it would be interesting to watch the logistics of it all, and we don't know if we'll all be able to watch at Mama and Papa's thirtieth."

'Shit, she has a point,' the tutor grumbled silently. Ten years was a long time in any relationship and considering the fact their father was not getting any younger, despite his claims towards longevity, the children might as well see things now. Even if the Marquis did survive to his thirtieth wedding anniversary, despite unseen battles and sicknesses that could affect him in the future, there would be the chance few of his students would be living at the castle at that point.

"Put down your books, team. We're going to go for a walk."

Soon the youngsters were being escorted along the castle grounds, the three younger ones whispering excitedly while the older two observed the comings and goings carefully. They were outside in the gardens, watching as a tent canopy was being rolled out for airing, when two men approached the group. One was old enough to have white hair and walk with minimal assistance from a cane while the other seemed his blond, thirty-something, echo.

"Excuse me, but where might we find the Marquis?" the younger man asked. The tutor stepped between the men and his students.

"He's not in at the moment, but if you have a complaint, I'm sure the Marchioness would be willing to hear it," he said. They looked vaguely familiar to him, and not in a good way. The older man scoffed at his answer.

"Typical, that they would constantly be fielding complaints," he derided. He examined Daniel carefully, taking in the man's metallic studding with an air of caution. "Where is this marchioness?"

"Mama isn't seeing anyone today," Maglina announced from her vantage point behind Lena's skirt. The older man scowled at her and she ducked, pulling Oriana with her.

"Please behave Grandpapa. I really don't want to be thrown out before we even get started," the younger man sighed. He looked over the kids standing behind their tutor and chuckled. "So then this is the brood—how lovely."

"Who are you?" Lena asked, furrowing her brow into one of her father's glares. She waited until Astra had the youngest two girls before she stepped up next to their tutor. "You are currently speaking with the Earlessa of Gallifrey. Whatever business you have with my lord father you can conduct either with my lady mother or me, preferably in a manner that doesn't frighten my sister and our dear friend."

"So that's who they are? That makes sense, I suppose, though I could have sworn the reports said there were more," the younger man shrugged. "I wish to speak with the man in charge."

"…and the one in charge is my lady mother, and barring her it is me," Lena insisted. "Now who do you think you are, coming here and acting so rudely within the week of my parents' wedding anniversary?"

"The rightful marquis, returned from exile," the old man said, voice sharp and dismissive. "Now take me to this lady mother of yours and we'll see how long you keep this tune." The air between them was tense, neither of the strange men nor Lena wanting to back down.

"Sir Daniel," she finally said. "Please take the others and wait for further instruction. I trust your discretion."

"What about…?"

"That is an order."

The tutor looked from his eldest charge, her head held high and her shoulders squared, over to the men and back. While she had been giving orders since before she could string a sentence together, it was rare for her to give him anything of the sort. He bowed for show and turned towards the younger kids.

"Come on, you heard her," he said. "Let's go."

"What about Lena?" Sterling asked. The tutor hushed him and began to usher the children further into the safety of the gardens. When she was sure they were gone, Lena cocked her head slightly and hardened her glare.

"If you will follow me," she said. Without a word she spun on her heel and began the walk back to the castle. The visitors kept pace, despite the elder's cane, and before long they found the Marchioness working in the study. She was on the settee, with her feet up on the cushion and her youngest nuzzled into her side sleepily, as she read over figures and did sums.

"Oh, who is this?" she asked. The look on her daughter's face caused the Marchioness to quickly put on a mask of her own as she stood, balancing Seren on her hip. "May I help you?"

"We've never met, but I'm sure you know who I am," the old man said. "I am Lord Faolan of Kasterborous, the man that should rule from the seat in the governance hall… or I would be doing so right now if my brother hadn't been created in my place." He did not offer his hand and instead gestured to his junior. "This is my grandson and heir, Ulric, and we are here to finally right what was wronged nearly a century ago and give Kasterborous her rightful lord."

"Her rightful lord is my husband, and I her rightful lady," the Marchioness replied, a hint of motherly sternness in her voice. "It's a pleasure to finally meet this cadet branch people keep on mumbling about. Where have you been hiding all this time?"

"None of your concern, though it's good to know that I was not forgotten in my childhood home during my years away," the older man smirked. He saw the look of confusion on the Marchioness's face and let out a laugh. "What? Did your lord husband not tell you how long we of the ancient Gallifreyan bloodlines live? Not twice as long as normal, but close enough. This means yes: I am a hundred-twenty-four years old without looking a day over seventy."

"Get out of my castle and leave my city this instant," the Marchioness commanded. The younger man chuckled.

"Why do you still claim to own something that was never yours to begin with?" he asked. "As far as we're concerned, you're squatting on and in our property."

"If you spent nearly a century away, then why choose now to come back?" Lena wondered aloud.

"Hush, girl," the old man snipped. "You'll be lucky if you become a marchioness through betrothal at this point. We recently returned from an extended trip abroad for Ulric's schooling, if you must know, and heard a little rumor that the entire time we were gone the mournful boy I was counting on getting gunned down on the front lines was busy getting remarried and fathering far too many bastard children."

"I can lock you up for treason with a remark like that," the Marchioness hissed. "Leave. Now."

"Not when I know your little secret," the older man grinned. "It took a couple years to dig up, but now I've got it, and plan to use it." He approached the Marchioness and bent down to whisper in her ear. Her eyes went wide and her nostrils flared as he spoke too quietly for Lena to hear.

"What did he say, Mama?" she asked. The Marchioness passed her youngest to her eldest while keeping her eyes trained on their visitors.

"Look very carefully at this man, Lena," she instructed. "This is a man that was once a sweet boy, but grew up jealous and with enough spite to change the course of the march's history. He seduced your great-grandpapa's bride and whisked her away before their betrothal could become marriage, which caused chaos and nearly ruined the marquisate. This is not a good man."

"Neither is Johan, though I can only assume you find that up for debate."

"Lord Kasterborous and Gallifrey to you." The Marchioness paused, taking a deep breath. "Lena?"

"Yes, Mama?"

"Run, you clever girl, and remember." She took the cane from the older man's hand and knocked him over, causing enough distraction for Lena to dash from the room with Seren in her arms. She turned the corner of the hallway and nearly ran over Tara, who had just arrived home for the day.

"Whoa! Why are you running?!" Tara gasped. "Are you okay?"

"No, come on!" Lena said, grabbing on to her sister's wrist. They ran back to the nursery, but were met by strangers that seemed to be waiting for them. Lena covered her brother's ears and screamed at the top of her lungs, alerting nearby servants that things were amiss. The girls dashed past the servants, using them as cover as they rushed into a cupboard, where there was a false wall that they slipped behind, plunging them into darkness.

"Ma! Ma!" Seren whimpered. Lena stroked his hair and kissed his brow, muttering whatever words she could remember in the ceremonial tongue to soothe him. By the time he calmed down, Tara had felt along the walls and found a torch, which she lit with the flint in the basket underneath the sconce.

"Okay, what's going on?" she asked. "Where is everyone and why were there strange people in the nursery?" Tara watched as Lena sank down along the wall, eyes wide and eyebrows nearly halfway up her forehead, clutching their brother tight against her chest. "Lena? Are… are you okay?"

"I will be; just give me a moment," she replied. Tara left the torch in the sconce and sat down next to her sister, knowing that this was not the time to be defiant. "An old man came pretending to be the Eleventh Marquis's brother. He and his grandson claim to be the rightful lords."

"…but, they're not. It's impossible," Tara replied. "Great-grandpapa has been dead since our papa was your age, meaning his twin can't even hope of being alive. I know Papa has said that our family lives long, but that long is pushing it. There's no way they have any claim even if they are telling the truth."

"Well, they seem to have brought some backup with them, if the nursery is any clue," Lena frowned. She stood back up and looked down the long, dark stairwell that laid at their feet. "Come on—we need to go find the others."

"Where are they?"

"With Sir Daniel; when we met the men, we were taking a break from our studies to watch the tents being assembled in the gardens." Lena took an exploratory step down to see how well her footing was and found the carved stone to be dry and level. "Follow with the light while I carry Seren."

"Where's Mama?" Tara asked as she grabbed the torch.

"She made me run while she distracted the pretenders," Lena explained. They descended further down the staircase, Seren pawing at his sister's dress as he kept his face in her shoulder. "I'm glad you came home when you did, or I don't know what would have happened to you."

"I'd blend in with the staff," Tara shrugged. "Someone would take me in—I mean, I'm in breeches and boots and I just came home from the Academy for the day—it's not like I look or act the part of a highborn lady."

"Both your advantage and your downfall," her older sister quipped. The staircase opened up to a large room with a high-vaulted ceiling and a waterfall going from high in the one wall and disappearing underneath the floor—a reservoir. "Even if they are from the cadet branch, there's a good chance they've been told about the passageways, so I think the first thing we do when we find Sir Daniel and the others is run."

"Where to?" Tara wracked her brain as they crossed the room and found a tunnel to walk down. "I bet they're watching everywhere, and Sir Daniel escorting all seven of us is going to be noticeable."

"There's a hut on the outskirts of the city Mama showed me once," Lena said. "She told me that if we were ever in danger that we could hide there. If Sir Daniel doesn't know the way then we just hide in different places."

"I don't like this. It stinks."

"Since I think that old man threatened to betroth me to his grandson, yeah, it stinks worse than Seren's nappies. That guy had to be at least thirty."

"Less of an age gap than Mama and Papa."

"…but Mama and Papa didn't meet before she was of marrying age, nor was their marriage a threat in the middle of declaring a coup." Lena licked her lips as they began to ascend a new set of stairs. "Promise me something, Tara."

"What?"

"If I don't make it through this, protect Astra and the others with your life. You're worth at least five adults."

"Oh, you'll make it through this alright," Tara smirked. "You survive Maggie being born and you can survive anything."

"Yeah, but at least then I could tell who the Sontarians were by sight," Lena deadpanned. The stairwell then dead-ended into a wooden trap door. Lena put her ear to it and listened for movement. When she heard none, she opened it and suddenly found herself staring down the barrel of a phaser gun.

"Oh my gods, you gave me such a fright," the tutor cursed. He dropped the rifle to the floor and helped the girls out of the trapdoor. They were in the cellar of his cottage on the castle grounds, where the door to the main floor was barred and the remaining four kids were wrapped up in blankets as they ate a snack of dried apples on the other side of the room. "What's going on? Where's your mum?"

"I don't know—she made me take Seren and run. Tara and I were lucky enough to bump into one another in the hallway," Lena said. She put down her brother, who immediately crawled over to where the snacks were. "Those two men want the marquisate and have the firepower to back themselves up; we have to leave and the sooner the better."

"Then I know the place—a house in the woods about half a day's ride from Gallifrey. Clara showed it to me before I started teaching you," he said. The tutor went into a chest and began to pull out some old clothes and cloaks, tossing them to the floor. "We won't move until night, but find some breeches and a shirt that fit you. If I'm taking the Marquis's daughters somewhere, we'll be spotted for sure, but if I'm taking my daughter and some boys from the castle then we might have a chance."

"I know the way, so we can split up," Lena offered, holding a shirt to her chest to judge the fit. "A man with seven children is a target, even in the middle of the night."

"Are you sure?" The tutor put his hand on her shoulder gently, making her look up at him. "We can meet outside the city walls no problem."

"No, we meet at the safe house," she replied resolutely. Lena looked over at her siblings and sized them up. "I'll take Tara, Seren, and Maggie—she's too recognizable next to Ori."

"Your mum and dad are proud of you, no matter what happens," the tutor offered. His eldest student stopped and stared at the rough cloth in her hands, wavering before choking out her answer.

"I know."

"I'm proud of you."

She paused and nodded. "Thanks."