Anora settled her back against the trunk of the old oak she was currently perched in and firmly ignored her mother's calls. There was a bird's nest in the more delicate limbs of the branch she was very comfortably balancing on. She could sit for hours and watch as the parents made forays out into the garden to bring food for the four hungry mouths that seemed to gape constantly. The smell of her mother's roses wafted up to her as they basked in the sun, and a breeze teased the leaves high over her head.
"Anora Rowan MacTir, I know perfectly well where you are! Come down immediately. Your father is home." Anora's gaze immediately shifted from the birds to her mother. Blue eyes met blue eyes as Edwina finally captured her daughter's attention. The sun shone warmly on Edwina's honey-gold hair, darker than her daughter's flaxen tone, and brought a becoming flush to the warm peach tones of her skin. Anora had inherited her father's fair skin which gave her a more delicate appearance. Edwina, however, was not deceived by her daughter's porcelain looks; she knew full well Anora was tough as steel.
"Papa's home? When did he get here?" Anora began to scrabble down the tree as fast as her seven-year-old limbs would allow. "Where's he been? I thought he'd never come home! He's been gone a long time."
Her mother began to walk through the garden toward castle of Gwaren. Her full-skirted, russet dress moved gracefully around her legs and ankles. "He is just now arriving. We must make you presentable."
Anora muttered, "I'm fine," as she brushed at the leaves and bark clinging to her woolen tunic and linen pants. Her brushing was fruitless.
"You are not fine, you are filthy," Edwina raised one eyebrow. "You need to at least wash your face and hands, and put on some clean clothes. And brush your hair."
Anora turned a grumpy gaze to the ground in front of her as she hurried to keep up with her mother's longer strides. She hated dresses. She couldn't do anything in a dress. The skirts got in her way when she climbed the oak to watch the birds or scrambled up the rock wall at the back of the rose garden so that she could see the ships in Gwaren's deep water harbor. The only way she could run in one was to hike her skirts up well above her knees. And then, she couldn't carry anything because her hands were full of skirt.
Another minute of brisk walking brought mother and daughter to the heavy wooden door set deeply into the base of the west tower. The pair climbed the stairs and moved down a short hall to Anora's room. Edwina set about laying out a clean linen dress in deep ocean blue with a pair of slippers in dark gray while her daughter moved to the wash basin and the pitcher of warm water waiting for her there. She hastily splashed water and soap over her face and hands, rinsing with yet more splashing. "I wish you wouldn't splash so. Half the contents of the basin end up on the floor," sighed her mother.
Drying face and hands haphazardly, Anora moved to the bed and pulled off her dirty clothes. She yanked the linen dress on, stuffed her feet into the leather slippers and headed for the door. "Just one minute, young lady." Anora stopped dead in her tracks. "Let me brush your hair." Anora drug her feet on her way over to the chair where her mother was sitting with a hairbrush and blue silk ribbons.
"Mother, I want to see Papa," Anora complained with as much whine as she felt she could get away with.
"I know you do. This will only take five minutes," replied her mother as she began taking out the braids which had been smooth and tidy when she sent her daughter out to play. Quick, long strokes of the brush made fast work of tangles and various debris. Edwina firmly braided her daughter's hair back into the pigtails that Anora favored. Anora would chop her hair off with a dull dagger if it weren't for the fact that her father loved it long.
No sooner had the second ribbon been tied than Anora was pulling away from her mother's hands and heading toward the door. She grabbed her skirts and hiked them up so that she could take off in a dead run toward the Great Hall. She burst through the door from the family quarters just as her father came in through the great door from the entry way.
Anora skidded to a stop and took a long look at her father's scratched face and dirty hands before her eyes fell to the leather saddle bag at his feet. "Papa, have you been pulling up briars?" Anora's calm tone mimicked her mother's voice almost perfectly, which caused Loghain's mouth to twitch.
"No, daughter, I've been carrying this Maker cursed rose bush in my saddlebag for the last ten miles. I am wounded," Loghain declared with just a touch of theatrics.
Anora ran forward and jumped into her father's arms. "I'll kiss it and make it better."
Just then, Edwina entered the Great Hall and crossed it with long, unhurried strides. Loghain held his daughter in one arm while opening the other to his wife. "My dear, you are a sight for sore eyes. I am glad to be home."
Edwina smiled up at her husband as she rose on tiptoes to kiss him. "We have missed you also. Anora has asked about your return at least three times a day since the day you left."
"Mother, Papa is all scratched and dirty because he has a present for you," Anora announced brightly.
"I had hoped to tell your mother myself that I had brought her a gift," Loghain mock scolded his daughter.
Edwina bent down to the saddlebag to examine the long canes which indicated a climbing rose. The canes had been carefully pruned for transport, but they were still long enough to tangle in hair or scratch the unwary face.
"There is a botanical drawing in the bag," Loghain murmured.
Edwina withdrew the parchment which depicted a beautiful white rose with the faintest blush of pink in its depths. The rich cabbage shape of the blossoms with their tightly packed petals was sensual in its beauty. "It is 'Rowan's Rose.' Oh, my husband, this is a beautiful gift. Thank you!"
Loghain allowed Anora to slide to the floor so that he could embrace his wife as he buried his face in her unbound hair. "You are welcome, my wife," Loghain teased gently. Releasing Edwina, he bent down to pick up Anora again and strode toward the dining hall. "Now, what have we for supper?"
Anora twined her arms around her father's neck, lay her cheek on his shoulder and breathed a happy sigh.