Chapter Three
The Thief

I stand alone
Feeling your sting down inside of me
I'm not dying for it
I stand alone
Everything that I believe is fading
I stand alone
Inside
I stand alone

"I Stand Alone" written by Sully Erna
Performed by Godsmack

Richard Castle knelt on the floor, in front of the slender, finely crafted sword that rested in it's scabbard in front of him as he breathed deeply to find his center, reaching deep within himself for the inner calm his instructors in both magic and swordplay had taught him to seek and open himself to the universe.

He rose smoothly to his feet, drawing the black sword inscribed with red runes from its scabbard and began to walk the forms, starting with the most basic then moving inexorably faster into more complex ones until the razor sharp bade was a blur in his hand, an extension of his inner self, and his hand as it flashed around him, seemingly with a mind of its own, which in a rudimentary sense it had.

His body moved with cat-like grace, an extension of the weapon he wielded. A weapon forged by a mage to be used by a mage. A focus for his power, which allowed him to adapt to the techniques of others as they fought, drew life from him and returned it.

He'd named it Armageddon.

With his eyes closed, he felt the target stands around him rather than saw them. Thirteen bamboo posts at shoulder height staggered throughout his private training room. He reached out with a sense beyond sight, beyond touch, beyond instinct and let sword and muscle memory guide his motions as his mind flashed with worst case scenario after worst case scenario.

The flashes from his nightmares, the scene in the clearing the other day. The image in his mind he could not shake of his daughter laid out the same way...

Alexis' blood on his hands.

A voice he did not recognize laughing.

Darkness.

Fire.

There was something more buried in the imagery that he wasn't seeing, he was sure of it. Something blocked, something that wanted to be released, but he could not seem to reach it. Something lurking at the edge of the darkness in his mind's eye. Something he was sure he'd seen that day twenty-nine years ago, but he just couldn't find it. The answer elusively just beyond his grasp every time he reached for it, somewhere in the flashes of memory that taunted him with what he either did not know, or did now know he knew. Answers he had sought since he was eleven years old. A secret need he had kept long buried under the guise of the affable, womanizing, nine year old on a sugar rush facade he showed the world.

Armageddon flashed and one by one each of the thirteen bamboo stands were cleanly bisected by either an up or down stroke of the shimmering black blade. Man and blade moving as one complete being.

When his body swung to a stop and Armageddon was snapped back into its sheath, Richard Castle opened his eyes to see his handiwork. Thirteen cleanly hewn posts, the tops of which lay on the floor.

Though the exercise had focused his mind as it always had, he was no closer to an answer than he had been when he started, only more questions. Unlike every other time before, however, they felt like the right questions. To save Alexis he would need to answer them.

There was a story behind all of this that would make the images in his mind and all of the evidence Beckett had found at the scene of Alexis' abduction make sense. To figure out where he fit into that narrative, though, he would have to go back where it all began. Find a place he had not laid eyes on since he was a scared eleven year old boy lost alone in the woods. A place he had long believed to be a figment of his adolescent imagination.

He was not a scared little boy anymore, however.

Though it had been years since he'd stood back to back with Robert Weldon and Roy Montgomery in the battle to retake the halls of Myth Drannor, he was a fully trained battlemage with power at his command, weapons at his disposal, and thanks to Roy, he would not be going into the woods alone.

When Castle arrived at Fortress Rock, Beckett was waiting for him, and she did not appear to be happy about it. He felt the tiniest twinge of guilt for how he had extracted the oath from her to help him. He had meant what he said, however. She would get what she wanted out of this partnership, there would be justice for the people killed in the caravan attack that had been staged to conceal the abduction of his daughter from all but his eyes.

He needed her help for what was coming next. Lady Katherine Beckett's skills as a man-tracker were second to none in the shire. If anyone could help him find Alexis and bring her home safe, it was her.

He'd heard the gossip about her in court. She had spurned the advances of more than one nobleman who'd thought to seek her hand, or add the daughter of the disgraced paladin as a notch on their bedposts. The same self-styled Lotharios he'd done his best to shield Alexis from. Though they had tried to paint her as a man-hating bitch, for shooting them down, he'd read between the lines of the mean-spirited gossip to find a woman with spirit who did not suffer fools gladly. A woman he would want his daughter to emulate.

She'll likely be even more angry when she learns what I'm holding back, Castle thought to himself before he plastered the face the world expected to see from him and approached with what he hoped was a peace offering. A steaming mug of coffee from his own private stock, flavored lightly with vanilla. Another secret of hers that Montgomery had shared with him in strictest confidence.

When he handed her the mug of coffee, Kate held it in her hands to warm them from the morning's chill, then took a tentative sip and her eyes closed involuntarily.

"How did you know..." Kate asked before her eyes snapped back open, her mask of indifference having slipped a fraction, then back into place.

"I'm Lord Robert Weldon's Official Court Sorcerer, part of that is discerning threats yet to materialize," Castle replied, drinking his own coffee. "It's my job to notice things others don't."

"It's early," Kate snarked, trying not to let on how much she was enjoying the coffee he'd brought, nor how much of an effect his peace offering had on her. "Shouldn't you be slinking home from some scandalous liaison?"

"Would you be jealous if I were?" Castle asked, slipping effortlessly into the role he was certain she expected to see. The one that had always seemed to fall into place when he was out in public, the side he had always been careful not to expose his daughter to.

"In your dreams," Kate snarked again, turning her back to him to open the door, making sure to finish her coffee before she was tempted to throw the expensive-looking ceramic mug at him.

"Actually, in my dreams you're never jealous," Castle quipped, finding his inner smart-ass easily, "In my dreams, you just join..."

Kate tossed the empty mug at him, and he scrambled to catch it, before handing it to his steward who would not be accompanying him inside.

"Try not to be so giddy about tricking me into releasing a criminal, okay?" Kate warned, her voice turning serious.

"Just because you made a bet based upon your own misconceptions about me, gave your oath and lost," Castle replied, "doesn't mean you have to be grumpy."

"Grumpy?" Kate hissed. "That damned Moon Elf led us on a merry chase over half the shire before Guardsman Esposito dragged him in. He'd had to clap him in irons in front of his wife and daughter, which troubled him more than he lets on. When we have to explain to him that he did that for nothing, then you'll see grumpy."

Castle cast his gaze down a bit, before returning his eyes to hers, a more earnest expression on his face as if a lever had been thrown, just like the day before when he'd shrugged off the affable, easygoing mask and she saw something else beneath for a split second before he'd disarmed her without even breathing hard. That there was more to Richard Castle than the man-child front he presented at first glance.

"My reputation at court to the contrary, Lady Beckett, this is not some childish whim of mine," he whispered with an edge to his voice that had been missing before, "this is likely the most serious thing I've contemplated in a long time and when I do tell you everything, you'll understand."

"And when will that be?" Beckett asked, the ice in her tone making it clear she neither appreciated the subterfuge, nor being kept in the dark.

"When there are fewer ears around us that come attached to wagging tongues," Castle replied darkly, though Kate could tell his tone was not directed entirely at her. "Better that those wagging tongues think me another aspiring suitor, or a fool, than what is actually afoot. Until then, I beg your indulgence."

Castle turned on his heel and walked into the the keep, leaving a confused Kate Beckett in his wake. More bothered than she seemed, by the dual nature of the man and wondering which face was the real Richard Castle and which was the mask.

Kevin Ryan, member of the Fellowship of the Forgotten Flower, rogue and alleged thief sworn to the service of Corellon Larethian to protect the heritage of the elven races, sat in his cell, singing to himself, a song he had oft rocked his baby girl to sleep with, resigned to the likelihood that he would spend a large portion of his remaining years in a human prison.

"The minstrel boy to the war is gone, in the ranks of death you will find him."

His reputation as an alleged master thief had obviously preceded him. The guards had searched him thoroughly, places he'd hoped only his wife would ever see, as such he had nothing to work the lock of either the manacle chained to the wall, or the cell door he could not reach.

"His father's sword he has girded on and his wild harp slung behind him"

He'd been a bard... once. His own harp and voice had been the talk of the Elven lands before the troubles, when he'd laid down his harp taken up his sword and bow and followed the avatar of his god, Corellon Larethian to war against Lloth.

"Land of Song! said the warrior bard, Though all the world betrays thee,"

Though all seemed to forsake their duty in the wake of the Time of Troubles, when divine magic had gone haywire and the gods had summoned their faithful and gone to war, trapped in their mortal avatars. Several major deities died during that chaotic time and a handful of mortals rose to divinity. In the wake of that period, faith in the gods had been shaken to its core.

"One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard, one faithful harp shall praise thee!"

The old saying, that one should never meet their gods, had been proven truer that even the gods themselves had been prepared for. It had taken a full generation of mortals since that time for the rest of the world to recover, but the lands of elves were still in a state of chaos. Kevin Ryan had not forsaken his god, or his people however, though his harp had not spoken since nor he had he sung again for any but his wife and little girl.

The loud snap of the lock and scraping of the iron door of his cell swinging open drew him from his thoughts and to his feet as a guard approached him.

"You must have powerful friends, knife ear," guardsman Demming grunted with contempt, "Lord Weldon's Court Sorcerer, himself wants to see you."

Though his advocate, the former Paladin, James Beckett had been in to see him only yesterday, Kevin hadn't expected much from that meeting, as the man had only inquired about how well he was being treated, with a vow to make arrangements for his family to see him before his trial.

Though Kevin's reputation as a thief had preceeded him, so had the fact that he had never harmed anyone, nor taken more than was required to feed his family and keep a roof over their heads. It was apparent that the people he had stolen from had been careful not to admit to the elven artifacts of great cultural significance he had relieved them of and sent home, treasures of his Teu-tel-quessir heritage looted from abandoned holdings since the Troubles.

The war between Corellon Larethian and Lloth nearly a century before had resulted in massive casualties, and elves - even the Teu-tel-quessir - did not procreate nearly as swiftly as humans. As such many holdings had stood empty for decades. It might take generations for the elves to rise again to their former glory, if at all, but they were still a force to be reckoned with and such looting of Elven holdings were not taken lightly even here in this human shire.

Kevin knew he would have to bide his time, let the fallen paladin do his work and hold out the small hope that the nobles in question might drop the charges against him if they thought their illicit activities would be revealed to the cold light of day. It was the only hope he had that he might see his family again in the near future, or breathe free air.

Upon command from the short tempered guard, Kevin rose to his full height of just over five feet, his stature unbowed. Though his gait was hobbled by the shackles, his proud soul would not be dragged under. He had been a faithful follower of Corellon Larethian for well over a hundred and forty human years and had few regrets, save for the fact that his daughter Sarah Grace had been made to see him dragged away from their home in chains. Even the guardsman who'd taken him seemed to regret it.

Castle sat and waited as the heavily shackled Kevin Ryan was lead into the room and sat on the chair opposite him.

"Lose the chains," Castle ordered.

Guardsman Demming did not seem to share Castle's outlook and grunted, "I don't think that's wise."

Castle rose and looked into the guard's eyes, his voice taking on a strange timbre, "I don't think the shackles will be necessary. Remove them and leave us." Demming's eyes almost immediately went glassy and his bearing seemed to slacken as whatever spell Castle put him under took effect.

"I don't think the shackles are necessary," Demming muttered, his voice devoid of inflection, before unlocking the shackles binding Ryan and without another word left the room.

Suddenly, Kate didn't feel quite so bad about being hustled on the training grounds the day before. Sobered by the knowledge that he clearly could have gotten what he wanted from her through much more straightforward means than an oath and a lost wager. Her own hubris had put her in the position she was in.

"Guard Lieutenant Beckett," Castle asked as if he hadn't just used a mind control spell on a guardsman right in front of her, "I need to have a few words with our Teu-tel-quessir friend here, I would be in your debt if you could make sure we're not disturbed?"

Kate nodded her head, and left the room. As much as she wanted to know what he would say to Kevin Ryan to secure his allegiance, she was sure there were things it was best for her reputation that she not be a party to.

"And what would someone of your prominence want with me?" Kevin asked after the door slammed shut and locked behind her as he rubbed his wrists to restore circulation. Secretly he was impressed that a human would even know how to pronounce the real name of his people and not simply call him a "Moon Elf", "Knife ear" or the more derogatory "dross" that many so-called "high elves" tended to call his kind.

"I need your help to retrieve something very precious to me." Castle whispered.

"I'm not a common thief," Kevin bristled, "I don't rob people for hire."

"I know," Castle replied, his eyes pleading, if not his tone, "but this is a matter of life and death."

"What could possibly be so important that you'd blackmail a Lieutenant of the City Guard to get me out of prison? There are better thieves than me out there, they have a guild and everything."

"The Thieves Guild is not nearly as worthy of trust as the Fellowship of the Forgotten Flower." Castle replied. "I need people whose allegiance can't be so easily bought."

"You are certainly well read," Ryan stated, surprised, "this must be really important then."

Castle closed his eyes, Ryan would not be taken in with platitudes, nor outmaneuvered like Kate had been. When he opened them again, he looked deep into Kevin Ryan's ice blue eyes and told him the truth.

"Somebody has my daughter." He whispered, "I don't know who, but they went to great lengths to get my attention in a way only I would recognize. You're a family man... uhm... elf, a daughter, right? What would you do if it was your little girl?"

"Move heaven and earth and then some, and if they hurt her..."

Ryan trailed off, nothing more needed to be said, he could see it in Lord Castle's eyes and the set of his jaw at the very idea of Alexis being harmed in any way and it sent shivers running up and down his own spine. If whomever this was harmed a single hair on her head, it was clear that there wasn't a place in all of the nine hells where they would be safe from his wrath.

"If I help you, what happens to my family?" Ryan asked.

"Arrangements have been made," Castle replied, "Your advocate knows nothing of this, but I have already set your release in motion. Let's just say that certain nobles have been... reminded... what you really visited them for. You should receive notice of your release within the hour."

"What's to stop me from just walking out that door," Ryan asked, "packing my family up and never looking back?"

"You could," Castle noted, "but I don't think you will. I'm very good at reading people and it's simply not in your nature. I will see you day after tomorrow at the south gate."

With that, Castle rose from his seat and swept from the room, leaving Kevin Ryan alone with his thoughts. Though it would take some convincing to satisfy his wife, in two days time he knew he would be waiting at the south gate. Lord Castle was right, if their positions were reversed, there was nothing he wouldn't do.

If anything happened to Lord Castle's daughter because he refused to help, he doubted he would ever be able to look Sarah Grace in the eye again.

**Author's Note** Ryan is the youngest on the team in canon, but here he is the oldest by over a century. Wrap your head around that for a moment.

I wrote the first part of this chapter right after seeing "Star Wars: The Force Awakens" and tweaked the rest right after watching "The X-Files"

The "Time of Troubles" was an actual thing in the world of Dungeons & Dragons. In-game it was used as the reason behind the changes in the way magic works was set up after second edition, and in the books it shook the very face Faerun. Though I am taking some liberties with that too. Castle's sword was once wielded by my character "Damar, Son of Krenn" when I played, which is based loosely on Arilyn Moonblade's weapon in the Elaine Cunningham novels "Elfshadow" and "Silver Shadows"

Have a good night.