Link gripped his weapon in his left hand and swung in wide arched circles, trying to get a feel for its weight. He tossed it between his two hands and spun, stepping from his right to his left in a fluid motion, with a strong stab at the open air. The sound of the blade slicing whistled out over the training grounds situated inside the very walls of White Tower. The eight year old closed his eyes and lost himself in his practices. The sword cut horizontal, vertical, from the ground to the sky, diagonal left, and diagonal right with a precise method in his young limbs.

Myra smirked as she watched her young brother and could not help the pride that swelled within her. The whole family had raised Lincoln from the very day he was born. Myra had been the midwife and was the first to hold him when he slithered from his mother's womb. The thirty-eight year old counted the attacks as Link did beneath his breath and could see their father in his movements.

"Spying on our young one, Love?" Henrick nestled his chin on Myra's shoulder with ease for he stood several inches taller than her. His long arms wrapped themselves about her waist and interlocked his fingers with hers. "He has made great progress since I last saw him play."

"He's not playing, now." Myra said, resting her weight against her husband. Public affection was rarely displayed for both despised prying eyes and others who did such things but sometimes neither could help it. The couple had been together for twenty-five years, having eloped at thirteen, and their love had not wanned, it had grown. Myra knew he could read every line on her body and she could do the same with his. She loved that intimacy but hated throwing it in others' faces... especially when around her sister, Anju.

"He never actually played, Love." Henrick sighed, squeezed, and then released her. He stepped around to stand at her side and smiled when Myra interlocked their hands. "I think we forget the pressure we put on him."

"Pressure?" Myra raises a red brow and fixes her jade eyes on her husband's form. "What do you mean?"

"He is eight years old, a child, in a home full of greying Men." Henrick's grey eyes shined with wisdom and he twisted his beard around his finger as he thought. A habit that Myra hated. "We may not know it but we often forget our Little Link is but a boy... he understands a lot of what we say about the Treaty. That is if we will actually ta-"

Myra's face flared from serene to angry in an instant. "Henry, I do not want to talk about this Treaty anymore!"

"We must, Dearest."

"No. We don't." Myra picked up her plum skirts and strode away from Lincoln who had stopped to gaze at his family curiously. "I am finished with it!"

Henrick followed close behind her with his face drawn tight in exhaustion. "It needs to be discussed. You and I must talk about it!" He raised his voice and Myra turned, both surprised by it. He cleared his throat and tugged at his black velvet doublet. "Vicktor is of age to be plucked up by the King if needed and so is Bryan though I doubt they will need a scholar."

"He will not have him." Myra vowed in a harsh whisper. "He is my son and that fool will not have him."

"We must-"

"No!" The Lady of Oakhale raged, flying forward and jerking her husband toward her with tears suddenly streaming from her jade eyes. "I will not lose my babies! I will die before I let them fight!" Her fingers cut into her palm even through the material and it took a moment before Henrick could untangle them. "Please, I am tired of talking about 'what ifs', Henry... let me rest. It has been none stop since Rowan-" She stopped herself and continued instead with: "I just want a day where I can smile and not have to worry about losing a family member."

Henrick nodded and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You will have it, my Love."

Lincoln latched his belt about his waist and tugged at the bottom of his tunic so that it did not bunch up around it. He frowned at himself in the mirror. "I look stupid in this color."

"You look like a Kokiri." Navi giggled and spun around in her new, glittering, pink dress which made her feel like a Princess.

Link's tunic was made of cotton and dyed a rich evergreen. His belt was brown and painted with golden leaves, his leather boots were new and hurt his feet to walk in though he did not complain, and he wore the hat that Saria had sent to him to commemorate his fully recovery. "Kind of." He had bathed and changed since his ride with Thomas and his daily practice session but something still felt unclean. He hated not being able to pin point it... but what he hated more was not knowing what was going on.

"We're kind of early... you want to go visit Brienne's Tower?" Navi asked, holding the corners of her dress and dancing around on the surface of an ornate hand mirror she had been given to ready herself in.

Lincoln shrugged, tossing a dagger up into the air and catching it by the handle. "If you want to."

"You don't want too?" She stopped twirling and glanced at her partner with a light frown.

He shrugged, again, and wriggled his toes in his boots with a grimace at how tight they were. "I'm not really in the mood."

"You're still weirded out about that whole fiasco with Henrick and Myra, aren't you?" Navi leapt into the air and glided over to him where she fluttered about his head.

The constant motion made Lincoln dizzy and it grated on his already agitated nerves. "Navi." His voice came out, angrily, and he bit his lip. "Sorry... I just hate this. I hate how everyone treats me like a child."

"You're eight." Navi countered, raising a brow and tapping her foot in mid-air. "And it's about time you start acting it." Her hand shot out and Link's eyes centered on it in wonderment as a small flame danced from her palm. "I'll race you to the Dining Hall!" A blue trail followed her as she zipped from the room and around the doorframe leaving Link little choice but to chase after her with a wild grin.

They arrived with a clatter into the Dining Hall and was greeted with the warmth of a raging fire.

Navi landed on the table and stuck her tongue out. "I win."

"You used magick." The Lordling placed two fingers down onto the table and walked them up toward the Fae with a smirk. He cleared his voice and said in mock-regality. "May I have this dance, Milady?"

"Yes, you may." Navi giggled, doing the same. She placed one hand on the top of his thumb and wrapped the other about the fingers. They proceeded to waltz down the recently polished table with stupid grins. "Where shall we sit?"

"Where we always sit." Link smirked, watching her with adoration in his eyes. The two journeyed close to the head of the table and sat in the second seat to the right. "Do you know what is planned for tonight?"

"Spice cake."

Link laughed and the sound echoed through the room. "I'm glad you knew what I was talking about."

Navi grinned and sat cross legged in the middle of his plate while the two conversed about random things though it was mostly about their favorite foods.

Evangaline appeared, shortly, with her husband in tow and both were dressed in fine outfits that the Lady had sewn herself. The green dress hugged Evie's curves tastefully and her long, blonde locks were fashioned into a elegant braid which draped over her graceful shoulders. Raven appeared strong in an outfit similar to Link's though his boots were black and he had a cape of a jungle green pinned around his shoulders with a brooch of a howling wolf.

"Hello, Father! Hello, Mother!" Lincoln beamed at his parents and raced to embrace them. "I heard that you almost fought a man today!"

Raven chuckled and tugged at his son's hat, playfully. "A curious hat, a gift from Saria, no doubt?"

"Father!" Lincoln's curiousity could not be evaded and his smile was infectious. "Did you or did you not?"

"Now, now, my boy, you have been eaves dropping again!" The Lord took his child's hand and guided his family toward the table with a wink in Navi's direction. "And yes, I did... almost."

"And why?"

Evangeline rolled her light blue eyes and slipped the hat from her son's blonde head. "No hats at the table before the Blessing and quit pestering your Father, sweetling, it has been a long day." She pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I have heard we will be treated to spice cake."

"Did someone say spice cake?" Thomas voice questioned, gleefully, as he marched into the room wearing a white tunic, tan breeches, and a simple red braided belt tied about his waist. "Someone must love me in there! Which cook do I kiss?"

"None, they probably made it for Link... with him almost dying and all." Navi smirked, watching the Knight take a seat next to the youngest Hudson.

Thomas scowled but replied, good naturedly. "Is death what it takes to have a cake baked in my honor?" He swatted at the Fae with a humorous grin. "Go now, Faerie, and send for my cake while I pester my little brother."

"I am no servant!" The remark had offended the tiny blue girl and all saw her colors change to a venomous yellow.

Raven plucked Navi out of the air and sat her before him, gently. "A jest, Little One. Thomas is our beloved fool."

"Oy!" Thomas dropped the goblet he had been drinking from and threw a finger at his father. "That is Sir Fool!" Both men roared out into laughter and awaited the rest of the family in joyous, talkative companionship.

Vicktor and Darion arrived, the latter with scorch marks across his face, and were flanked by Henrick and Myra. Myra's hair had been let down so that it swept her shoulders and framed her face but other than that she appeared unchanged since her argument with Henrick. Her husband was silent and did not meet his father-in-laws eyes which let all know that the couple was still at an impass.

Vicktor crashed into his Uncle Thomas and both squeezed each other tight. "Good to see you, Uncle! We barely got to talk last time! Will you be staying longer?"

"I will be staying for the remainder of the month." A sly grin in which he cast his brown eyes over the faces of Lincoln and the eighteen year old warrior. "Plenty of time to train you lads up!"

"I'll get my potions ready." Darion smirked, plopping into a chair close to the middle. The Healer was dressed in dark red robes that smelled of odd herbs and powders which he spent most of his time mixing to his mother's displeasure. The eighteen year old glanced down at his attire and wiped at the burn marks but knew they would not rub out.

"Have another accident, Darion?"

He blushed at his grandfather and averted his green-black eyes. "Yes... I've almost perfected my new concoction... if only the, uh, chemicals would comply."

Raven smirked. "You should consult the old man at Lake Hylia. The Doctor is well known, if I am unmistaken, to be a wizard of your arts."

"He is but-"

"But," Jason's voice cut in and the rotund man approached the table where he took his own seat across from Lincoln... who he still gripped at because the youngest was not supposed to sit so close though Jason had learned better since an odd fiasco concerning Evangeline and a turkey leg. "that is a long trip for such a young man who is not skilled with a blade."

"I am fine with a bow." Darion countered with a pointed glare.

Janette, who had followed her husband, tucked her dirty blonde hair behind her pointed ears fit with golden hoops and cast her hazel eyes to the face of her son with a look verging on feral. "You, my darling boy, are not a capable rider for long travel, you can barely contend with your young Uncle at sword play, and this Treaty-"

"He is far better than you give him credit for!" Vicktor's voice burst through Janette's rant. "And it seems to me that all of you are standing on hot coals... I would hold your tongue, Aunt, before you say something more vile."

"Quiet yourself, boy." Jason growled.

Myra's jade eyes flashed, dangeorusly. "Watch your tone, Brother."

"Children!" Raven called out and his grey-blue eyes quelled the fighting with a single look. "My old heart cannot stand this fighting anymore! Let our words flow but let them be gentle and wise not viscious and heated." He folded his hands together and rested them on the table. "Is this what our family has come to? A bunch of squabbling savages without reason or care?"

A long pause stretched out and all felt its effect.

Myra searched out Henrick's hand and when she found it, she squeezed it. Henrick smiled and knew all would be alright while Darion clapped Vicktor on the back. "Thank you, Cousin."

Janette met her child's gaze and shame creeped up on her. "I should not have s-"

"It is forgiven." Darion smiled, lightly, and the tension eased.

"The Goddesses be praised." Raven sighed. "Now..." The old Lord drank deep from his goblet and let the wine ease the tension in his joints. "Jason, Son, Brother, Friend... Pray tell... Where is the rest of us? I am missing four and I will not eat without them. We have things to discuss and I mean to discuss them."

Jason stood up straight and looked rather regal in a deep navy blue schemed outfit complete with undershirt, light silver mail, tunic, an unbuttoned doublet, breeches, black leather fitted boots, and a short sword about his waist. "Bryan and Freya are... had made wishes that we wait for them a few moments. No doubt, he wishes to ask her hand... Anju and Rowan-"

"Here!" Rowan called out and both men suddenly made such ridiclous faces at being dressed nearly identical that Lincoln burst out laughing along with Vicktor and Darion.

"We are triplets, now, eh, Brother?" Anju giggled, gliding gracefully along to kiss Lincoln on the cheek. Her beauty shone in a pink gown with lace overtop that hugged her waist and flowed past her hips to brush the ground. Her red hair was pulled up into a loose bun while her bangs framed her face. "How are you today, Little Brother?"

Jason puffed up with embaressment. "Hmph. Triplets? I dare say not!"

"Exactly." Rowan murmured as both twins took a seat next to Janette and Jason. "And Thomas," The mentioned Knight closed the mouth he had opened. "you will not say anything about this."

"Can't make a joke, can't get a cake... Why, sweet Din, must you hate me?" The twenty-eight year old chuckled. The Knight then turned to the lad and gave the boy, who had slipped his hat back onto his head, a crooked smile. "So, Litle Link, what is this I hear about your en-"

"Vicktor," Evangeline cut into the Knight's question, smoothly, and gave the man a tart look. "Myra was telling me that you have decided not to become a Knight. Why?"

The eighteen year old blinked and it took an elbow from Darion before he stammered out the words. "Uh, t-that is... well, I have...um, Why do you ask, Evie?"

The Lady shrugged and gave Thomas another sharp look as if to ensure he would to continue whatever question he had wished to ask her son. "I was just curious. You are good with a blade and would do well as Raven, Rowan, and Thomas has done... I suppose I am a bit disappointed that you will not carry the tradition as well."

Vicktor replied to that softly. "I have just fallen out of love with the sword, I suppose." The young man blushed. "My Father has been kind enough to teach me some of his craft."

Raven snorted. "We have two Knights, one Healer, Jason is my Heir, a Scholar, and a wolfos slayer... I suppose we can add a politican to that lot."

"Is it really so bad?" Henrick asked with a slight offended tone in his voice.

Raven bowed his head slightly. "No, no. I did not mean it like that." He mets Henrick's gaze with a smile. "All men have their trade, Henrick, and no man should presume to one anothers expertise. I apologize if I seemed degrading. This old man has only known fatherhood and war."

"There is nothing to apologize for."

An akward pause ensued in which all could hear the clatter of two pairs of feet echoing down the hall outside. Lincoln and Navi smirk at one another. "3, 2, 1!"

Freya and Bryan burst in with stupid grins upon their faces. "We're engaged!"

Myra rolled her eyes and smirked. "Finally."

Thomas stood with an exaggerated expression of shock and his chair clattered to the floor. "By the Goddesses, what a surprise!"

"Sir Fool, sit down." Raven shook of his head though he could not hid his smile. "Congratulations."

Link suddenly grinned. "Guess, now, we know who the spice cake is for."

"Right you are, brother of mine!" Thomas beamed.

Darion raised a brow. "How much wine have you had, exactly, Uncle?"

"Don't ask me anything to do with numbers, Nephew, he's liable to hurt himself." Rowan grinned, tossing a grape back and crunching down onto it at which Janette made a face. "You two come sit so we can eat."

Jason nodded, furiously, at the request and unconciously grasped his stomach as if it might escape him. "Yes, please."