Reunification - 1 (Patreon)

"–thus you will find that refusing to construct the House of Lords as formulated by the Northgate Charter will be difficult. Too many have become enamoured with the possibilities it offers them, including those that turned their coat following our victories or Godfrey's... actions." Father said calmly, a faint hint of regret offered within his voice.

He held his hand over his heart, down on one knee, and head bowed low staring at the floor; unflinching even in the face of having to remain that way for well in excess of an hour.

"And what would you advise, Lord Crowley? You understand the minds of the rebel lords more than any other." Lorna asked, holding her voice as steady as she could. She truly hated that she had to make such power plays, take such petty actions towards her father... but things had changed.

Lord Crowley was no longer just her father, he was the leader of a rebellion against the Greymane family. Of which she was now a member.

"I fear that a second rebellion may be fomented in order to force the issue should you decline to enact it as proposed." He said with calm that such a sentence hardly deserved. "The House of Commons would be far simpler to deny, but I must advise against it. To do so would empower the nobility at the expense of the crown, weakening your authority with no new force to wield against them; the crown has long held the loyalty of the common folk, and through them, that of the commons itself."

Lorna almost wanted to curse her friend for the changes she had wanted to bring to Gilneas. Though they were made in good faith, with an origin that only she and Vivi truly knew and might understand, all they served to do now was complicate matters.

"We must see this Northgate Charter for ourselves before any decision can be made." Liam said regally, though his unease with the situation came through in the tightness of how he held her hand on the arms of their 'thrones'. "The will of the noble lords must be considered, as must that of the people. However, a lack of understanding has cost us greatly in recent times. It will not do so again."

"As you say, Your Majesty." Father said, his voice warm with praise that reminded Lorna of happier days. "Understanding must come before any decision."

He was proud of them. When she had descended with Liam, Nim, and Ar-chok atop Donovan she had feared that her father would consider her a traitor for undermining his actions, for siding with her crush to find another path. But he had accepted, even thrown himself to them, without hesitation.

Oh, how she still wished that things had not come to this. That Archmage Arugal would not give the signal, simply informing them later that their fathers had come to terms and they would not need to act.

But it had. And heavy laid the crown atop their heads, the burden they now bore, the responsibilities they had claimed and would see to with all that they had.

Liam nodded stiffly at his praise. "Thank you, Lord Crowley, for your report and your advice. However, we must now move on to less pleasant matters. You must understand, of course, that as commander of the Northgate Rebellion, you cannot escape punishment entirely? Though resolved, such actions cannot be borne easily."

"I understand, Your Majesties." Father said without a hint of fear. "I await your fair and wise judgement."

Lorna's heart tightened at his calm reply. She knew already what would come of this, had discussed and argued with Liam over what would be suitable to show that they were not simply replacements installed by the rebellion.

This was both more than she wished for him and the most Liam would permit him to retain.

"You are to be stripped of the title of Duke of the Pyremarsh and Amber Wood, as well as all associated lands. You are no longer the Warden of the Wall, nor Lord of the Northgate Woods." Liam spoke steadily and carefully, each declaration enough to crush any lesser lord's calm. "But we are not without mercy: The lands of Crowford and Crowley Manor will remain yours, subject only to our rule above yours."

"If I may ask," Father said, his composure still holding strong, "what will become of the lands beyond the wall?"

She nodded as her heart ached, it was a question she had expected. "They shall be held in trust for the moment. Some part will be awarded to the loyal Lord Silverlaine, who even now remains embattled by the horrors beyond the Greymane Wall. In time new loyal lords shall be found to take up the mantle of protecting Gilneas' farthest reaches."

That it would not be her taking up those duties, as she had prepared for most of her life, cut deeply. A loss of something she could scarcely begin to describe; even though what she gained in turn was a literal dream come true, it was not without cost.

Perhaps she could carve out a summer home in the north, a range for gryphons and their riders that covered the Pyremarsh or the Alteraci foothills... there were good grazing grounds there for sheep to feed the prides, and it would give her some connection to the lands she knew so well. It wasn't as though anyone could stop her – save Liam, who would no doubt wish to retain part of the Duskmist for his father and visit him often.

A compromise could be reached. The Duskmist Plains were hardly unpleasant, ever calm and mild as they were – albeit a bit dark and dreary – but they simply weren't her home like they were for Liam.

"Lord Silverlaine deserves much acclaim for the good his deeds have brought to our people, I can think of few more suited to rule the Pyremarsh." Raising his head for the first time, Father's lone eye met hers and shone with pride. "Of course, I have no doubt that what remains will be in good hands."

"Then the matter is settled." She said, fighting to squash the gladness that welled up from doing her father proud and threatened to break her poise with a smile. "You are dismissed, Lord Crowley."

Bowing his head once more, Father retreated from the room, and with a loud click the door shut; only stoic royal guardsmen handpicked by Liam remained with them.

Long used to the presence of servants or guardians, Lorna allowed herself to relax, leaning her head upon her prince-turned-king's shoulder. "The worst is done with at least," she said softly, "but so much yet to do. Who's next, Liam?"

"He's hardly done with yet." Liam denied with a frown. "Too many connections beyond Gilneas, too much social power for us to ignore."

"My father isn't going to betray us." She sighed in exasperation, pulling his hand to her chest and clasping it between hers nonchalantly. "I aided in planning the rebellion as much as he did; or have you decided that I should be punished too?"

"I know that he won't." He sighed as well, running his free hand through his hair and letting his sunset orange locks tumble freely. "That does not mean he will not cause difficulties in the future. Too much of his influence upon us will upset the faith of the royalists, yet his connections mean that there is no one better for certain roles."

Clasping his fingers with hers, Lorna pouted. "Sometimes I hate politics."

One of the guardsmen – Patrick – coughed loudly. "Apologies, Your Majesty, but more politics awaits."

Rolling her eyes, Lorna sat up straight and moved on to fixing Liam's hair; he was much more dashing when his hair flowed freely but it didn't present the right image to their subjects.

"Presenting Lords Howard Mistmantle and Caleb Merrowfall, here to swear fealty to their King and Queen..." Patrick intoned firmly as the door opened.

At least these two wouldn't cause any troubles or disagreements between her and Liam; the quest of the Merrowfall siblings to rescue the younger's abducted groom was respected by royalists and rebels alike. That they had been ironically separated themselves by Godfrey's treachery had only added to the story and garnered further sympathy where it might have been lacking.

It would be good to hear how Vivi was doing as well. It had been months since they had a chance to talk.

-oOoOo-

"As ever, the Hillwardens of House Walden pledge their loyalty to the House of Greymane. May the sons and daughters of Aderic Wolfheart reign free of the yoke of Arathor forevermore." Lady Adelaide Walden, the fourth child of the late Lord Walden, said with only a faint waver in her voice. "No matter the burdens placed upon us as subjects of the crown, our faith remains as pure and true as the Dawn."

Looking down at the pious girl, a sunburst necklace of pure gold dangling from her neck, Liam couldn't help but feel for her.

"And that loyalty will be remembered. You have conducted yourself well, Duchess of the Hills, and we commend your decision to care for your people and family before joining the needless bloodshed." Liam said calmly, though as his grip tightened on Lorna's hand he knew he could not hide his unease with her.

In some ways, her youth lent strength to her claim; she could not have taken part in the civil war on either side, and as such should face fewer difficulties from those who rose against Genn. Yet, at the same time, she was just so young.

She had family still since her father- in- law's death, her elder brother Bishop Walden and her elder sister the Lady Ashbury, but her father was insensate and the former heir... a coward. It was enough for Liam to have to restrain his look of pity carefully lest he cause offence; for all the civil war lasted only six months, he was learning of more tragedies with each passing day.

"If only all had been so wise." Lorna said softly. "You may depart, Lady Walden."

"Thank you," she murmured, a childish pout forming as she looked at Liam, then at the crown atop Lorna's head, "Your Majesties."

She then departed, not the first to be envious of Lorna's position and question his choice, and unlikely to be the last. Yet his reasoning had been firm: Stopping the civil war and ending the growing rift within Gilneas was the greatest good he could enact during his life, no matter how long it might be.

That Lorna was decidedly pleasant both to look at and spend time with was of secondary concern, but he was glad of it all the same.

"Another admirer." She breathed into his ear. "Should I be worried?"

"No more than I about the rumours of what you did in Arevin's tent with her and Vivianne." He retorted quickly, trying to hide the fact just her voice shifted the flow of his blood.

The way her laughter made his heart beat faster, that he could do little about. "It was quite a pleasant night. Gwen might protest but she makes for a remarkable bed partner – I've never woken woken nearly as refreshed and relaxed otherwise. And, of course, she is such a wonder to tease. Almost as much as you~"

Against his better judgement, Liam turned to look at her directly. The sly smile on her face told him that the thoughts running through his head, lascivious as they were, were quite inaccurate.

Though in exactly what way, he was unsure. "I have seen the negligee she designed for you, Lor'. The girl can hardly be so innocent as you claim."

"You'd be surprised!" Lorna waved him off. "Patrick, the next, please?"

His father's – his loyal guardsman nodded, stepping outside to escort the next lord in. Only the commanders and leaders, the most notorious and powerful, needed to be met with in person. The minor lords, who numbered in the hundreds, could be dealt with as his father and grandfather had; made to swear their oaths and bow during his coronation.

Still, it would be all day before they were done. Then he would need to see to the priests, the witches, the mages, and the paladin... there would be no honeymoon for him and Lor', no time to simply be husband and wife for months to come.

"Announcing Lord Andrew Hewell, Protector of the Stone's Run," Patrick intoned as he returned, "and last loyal adviser of King Genn Greymane."

Surprised by Patrick's addition Liam's brow raised, it was hardly a formal title. "Welcome, Lord Hewell. Though we have rarely met, I know well your loyalty to my father."

The black-haired lord bowed, his tired eyes growing more prominent as his face fell into shadow. "It is a pleasure to serve the Greymanes, Your Highness. And I will swear my oaths without hesitation, as His Majesty bid me, but first I must speak on matters less pleasant." He rose and fixed his attention on Liam, and Liam alone. "Despite my advice to him, even Queen Mia's pleas that he consider his safety, when the rebel host approached the capital King Genn refused to garrison the city and fight from advantageous ground."

"Puzzling." Lorna said with a frown. "Was he aware of the bishop's work to destabilise the city? There was no indication of such according to Lord Crowley, nor any attempt to root out those ready to rise up in the name of the rebellion."

Lord Hewell's surprised jolt and deep frown made clear that, at least, he had not been. "N-no." He shook his head. "To think Crowley would dare to embroil our fair capital in chaos simply–"

"I assume there was a purpose to your speech?" Liam interjected before the lord's biases could rile up his wife. He was already feeling the pain of her martial training as her grip, strong as it was, threatened to crush his hand in hers. "The actions of the rebellion are neither relevant nor in question, at this time."

"Of course, Your Highness." The lord bowed again. "King Genn desired to lead the battle personally, even going so far as to declare he would lead from the front – the vanguard itself. When I pointed out the danger of such a plan, he asked if I thought him a coward."

After a moment, taking in the words, Liam blinked. In battle his father would have been a priority target, to be brought down as swiftly as possible to demoralise the army, for if he fell the war was all but won for the rebels...

And he would know that. Though Liam knew his father had many flaws, a lack of understanding of their vulnerability as the royal family was not one of them.

No expense was spared in ensuring the training of the royal guard, their lives made comfortable and their families well cared for to ensure their loyalty. All so that they would not be vulnerable in the way that he would have pushed himself to be...

"I will think on your words." Liam said, feeling more troubled by the moment. "Now, we would have your oaths, Lord Hewell."

Frowning at the reminder the lord's gaze flickered to Lorna. "As you say, Your Highness. I, Lord Hewell, Protector of the Stone's Run, swear once more my fealty to the House of Greymane and its kings and queens, brave descendants of Aderic Greymane who overthrew the yoke of Arathor..."

-oOoOo-

"Announcing Lord Geoffrey Tulvan, Heir to the Dales and Northern Headlands." The guardsman spoke loudly as he opened the overly ornate door into the, admittedly humble, chamber the new king and queen were using to entertain their lessers. "In Lady Tulvan's absence, he speaks for the duchess."

Geoff did not wish to be here; he should still be with grandmother, planning how to avenge his uncle, and yet here he was. In the very den of the man whom he ought to avenge himself upon, without a single sword to his name.

"It is a surprise to see you here, Geoffrey." Crowley said without a hint of surprise in her voice.

Just as it had been the last time he saw her, her absurd bosom was practically bursting from her dress despite being fully covered. He would give the new king that at least, he certainly had a fair taste in women. Grandmother had even considered the girl as a match for him once... though that had been when Jocelyn was still the heir and Father had been alive.

Snorting at what might have been, Geoff shook his head. "I am only here as Grandmother bid that it should be so." Unlike them, he held to the promise of filial piety a child owed to their parents and grandparents. "On her orders, I shall offer my oaths as future Duke of the Dales."

With a great flourish he performed an overly swift mockery of a bow. Both the king and queen frowned, and behind his back, Geoff could feel the glares of the guardsmen pressing down upon them. They would have his oaths, and he would keep to them, but it would take more than that for the Crowleys and Greymanes to regain his respect.

"Lady Tulvan insists upon continuing her rebellion, then." Crowley said after a moment. "I had hoped she would see reason."

"My uncle is not yet avenged. His murderer walks free." Geoff sneered. "Lest you will offer his head, there is little reason to stop; the Dales do not suffer betrayal lightly."

Demonstrating a lack of poise that would see Grandmother reaching for her cane, the king sighed tiredly. "Though I understand her reasoning, we cannot accept oaths made in bad faith." He stood and gestured to his guards. "Until such a time as the Dales cease their rebellion, you will be kept prisoner. In honour of your the oaths you offered, and Lady Tulvan's intent, it shall be a comfortable stay and you shall not be harmed, but trust cannot be extended at this time."

Barking out a laugh Geoff shrugged off the first guard to take him by the shoulder, half tempted to try his luck then and there; he would have kept to his oaths, but they weren't even accepted.

But no. Grandmother wanted him to live, to continue the family, to prevent the Dales from falling into the hands of someone who wouldn't care for their traditions. Freedom from the riverlanders’ greedy fingers wouldn't come so easily a second time.

"Very well, Your Majesties." Geoff snorted and let himself be taken away. If she ever found out how badly he'd screwed things up, she'd take the cane to him before the prince. He almost wished she would, as that would mean he wouldn't lose what was left of his family. Jocelyn, magic-wielding bitch that she was, hardly counted, even if she had come back.

-oOoOo-

When Queen Mia had ordered her to wait in the gardens Trix had expected to be placed on princess sitting duty again, keeping the princesses entertained with magic and games while the older members of royalty went and did... royal things. She knew that Princess Menethil, the older one, was taking lessons from the queen now, but that couldn't be the only thing they did.

There was royal stuff, queen things, like giving out bread to the poor or visiting hospices and sponsoring priests to heal people... and of course the war.

Not that she knew what was happening with the rebellion, no one told her anything even if she asked. Princess Tess tried to sneak her gossip sometimes, enjoying eavesdropping on guards and spying on people, but it was stupid stuff as often as not.

Like Gwen turning into a big evil wolf and ripping out a man's throat to eat his insides. Trix's teacher would never do that, she was nice... unless they were like the demon who... killed Richard. Then she might.

They'd deserve it. Like what happened to that man in Marigold's part of the last letter.

"I should've been there." Trix grumbled frustratedly, kicking her feet through the carefully trimmed grass and making it grow wilder with each swing of her legs as she watched a pair of ravens fly out of the palace. The letter had told her how the apprentices were doing, that Gwen was taking a break, but not anything important – except what happened to Mary, obviously – or about the war.

It was stupid. She could send as many letters as she liked, even in secret, but any she got back... they got read. So Gwen couldn't tell her stuff.

Or the king would know.

She wanted to go home. See Merrie play with her birds, tease Marigold about dreaming a princess would pick her, stop Howard and Trent from bickering. Do all the stuff Richard used to do for them; he was gone. She'd never get him back. Her stupid mistake, her fault, but–

"Hey Twix, it's been a while."

Jumping to her feet, Trix whirled around. Standing behind her, leaning on a tree, was Gwen. A nervous smile, pure relief shining in slightly wet eyes. Her teacher. "My name is Trix!" She retorted immediately, stomping a foot.

Not that she was angry; her lip was quivering. Gwen was here. Why? Why was she here? Had she been captured too? No, if she was here...

"If you say so Twix." Gwen smiled wider, more confidently, and took a step forward. "The war's over; we... won? Kind of a draw, but what we wanted–"

Unable to contain herself any further, tears welling up in her eyes, Trix charged at her teacher and tackled her. "Gwen, you're here!" She cried, pressing her face into Gwen's neck. "You're here. You won. I knew you would, you couldn't lose. You couldn't."

"Yeah, I am here. I'm sorry it took so long, Twix." Gwen patted her back and held her tight.

Trying to hold back her sniffles and failing, Trix didn't understand why she was crying. Gwen won, it was over, she could... she could go home. And she hadn't even lost anyone else, like Richard. "My name is Trix!" She protested weakly, her voice wet. "What even is a twix anyway..."

Trix was Tricia was Patricia, and a much better name than the stupid name her dad had given her because he wanted a boy to call Patrick like his brother.

Gwen started to laugh. A bubbly and happy sound that made Trix feel safe, and a little silly; like the time she'd convinced a tree to give her sap to make syrup from and gotten stuck in the sticky stuff. Only to learn it was the wrong kind of tree.

"I never did tell you, did I? It's... a kind of chocolate, my favourite. Shortbread with caramel wrapped in chocolate." Gwen explained happily. "It's been a long time since I had one."

"Stupid..." Trix mumbled, not sure what to think about being called a chocolate.

That it was Gwen's favourite... she always hoped she was, wanted to do well with magic and learn more to be like her. Becoming Gwen's apprentice properly had been the best day of her life! So hearing she was her favourite... it was nice.

But it was also like she was being called sweet. She was magical and special and impressive and clever, not sweet!

Feeling Gwen's hands running through her hair, unwinding something tight in her chest she hadn't even known was there as she cried, she decided maybe being sweet wasn't a bad thing. "You'll make me some." She demanded nervously; it's not like she deserved them... but she wanted to try some now.

"Of course!" Gwen laughed, squeezing her tight enough that Trix couldn't breathe before letting go. "Or I'll find someone else to – confectioneries are fun to make but I was never very good at them. Cookies... I can do cookies, shortbread? I don't even know where to start. Caramel... is just liquid sugar? More or less." Blinking away her own tears, Gwen smiled widely. Proudly. "I'll figure it out. Even if I have to raid Stormwind for the chocolate."

Blushing at the sincerity, Trix ducked her head. "Marigold and the others can have some too."

"I want some too!" Came the shrill demand of Princess Menethil, the smaller one, as she darted out of a bush. "And star wolfy! Miss Trixy, star wolfy!"

Princess Tess was only a moment behind her. "Lianne!" She hissed loudly. "We were spying! You're not supposed to– Lianne!"

"Star wolfy!"

As Trix hurriedly dried away her tears before the princesses could see, Gwen looked down at the pair of princesses. Princess Menethil was tugging at Trix's dress, begging determinedly, while Princess Tess was pouting furiously with crossed arms – trying hard to emulate Queen Mia when she was scolding them.

After a moment, Gwen laughed. "Okay. Okay... so your letters did talk about entertaining the princesses. Picking up where I left off with a star wolfy, was it?"

"Uh, yeah–"

Gwen was grinning widely, her eyes half closed mischievously. "What about a real fox?" She asked, tilting her head a little. "One big enough to ride?" Letting go of Trix she stepped back, and that started to... change. It was fast, her brown hair spreading across her face and down her neck in a single second as she bent over onto all fours. Her clothes melted away into her fur. The last thing to happen was a large tail sprouting out behind her, swishing in all its extremely fluffy glory.

"You're a fox." Trix said, utterly baffled. "But we're ravens, the boys are the foxes!" Except, Tricks picked her, and Gwen was special, so... she was a fox-raven? A raven-fox? Gwen. She was Gwen.

"Wolfy!" Princess Menethil shrieked in joy, her hands bundling up into Gwen's fur in an instant. "Real wolfy! Fluffy wolfy!"

Letting out the same chortling laugh Tricks often did, Gwen flicked her ears at Trix before ducking her head under the princess. She was happy to help entertain the princesses, to... even let them ride? She'd said 'big enough to ride'. That wasn't fair! She was Gwen's favourite!

Willing herself to not pout, Trix helped lift the giggling princess up onto Gwen's back. "Don't pull at the ears!" She scolded her as she reached for them. "Hold her fur – not too hard, gently. Keep yourself steady. Stroke her, around the neck, Tricks always liked that." At least after months of looking after them Princess Menethil was quick to listen. "Now you can ride, okay?"

"Yeah!" Princess Menethil nodded with the biggest grin Trix had ever seen on her. "Ride wolfy!"

"Fox." Trix corrected, watching as Gwen started walking slowly, testing how secure the princess was on her back. Trix really wanted to join her, but Gwen wasn't big enough... not for her. "Princess Tess, do you want to ride too?"

The pouting princess jumped as her name got called, twisting her head away from Gwen. "No." She lied blatantly.

"But didn't you want a riding wolf, Princess Tess?" Trix asked serenely, finding a bit of mischief in catching the sneaky princess in a lie. "This would be excellent practice."

"Wouldn't be fair." She retorted. "You can't–"

Gwen's head swivelled back to them, cocking and flicking her ears, and causing Princess Tess to squeak and hide behind Trix. Then, after a moment, she got bigger. And bigger. And bigger.

Until she was well past Trix's waist and little Princess Menethil was staring down at her big wolfy with delight.

Tricks could change size too. Not so big, mostly smaller – becoming extra good for snuggling up with in bed – but Gwen could get bigger. The person whose throat she tore out must have really deserved it. "I can?" Trix asked Gwen, and as she received a nod in turn, she ran up and clambered on. "Onward, wolfy!" She giggled maniacly.

"Wolfy go!"

"H-hey! Wait for me!" Princess Tess scrambled after them and Trix hoisted her up, and the three started riding atop a giant fox around the palace gardens, startled and bemused royal guards finding them and having to chase after as Gwen played keep away.

Much to the exuberant joy of Princess Tess, who was profoundly happy when Gwen made an illusion of them lure a guard into running into a tree.

Trix didn't know how things came to this... but it was a close second for best day ever.

-oOoOo-

When Mia had first heard from Sir Patrick that her daughter was riding around the garden atop a great brown 'wolf' she had been alarmed and worried, yet the inclusion of Patricia in the events had quickly allowed her to determine what was happening.

Now she was merely glad that the children were happy and cared for; Gwyneth Arevin, for all that she might be an instrumental part of why she was... no longer going to be queen, was good with children.

"So at Vivianne's prompting, Isolde interrupted the prattling butler and kicked down the door with glee – loudly declaring: 'Howard! My dear damsel in distress! I have come to save you!'" Gwyneth illustrated the event with illusory stars, a sparkling door kicked down by a woman in skirts. "Everyone was shocked, even Howard himself! He was practically dumbfounded and mumbled about eating lunch rather than greeting his rescuers."

Little Lianne clapped and laughed at the spectacle, likely not understanding it fully but quite happy about a story of a lady rescuing her lordly husband.

There was little doubt in Mia's mind that some clever soul would turn Howard and Isolde's romance and separation into a play to be put on in the many theatres of the capital. One that, from what she had heard from Gwyneth so far, she would enjoy watching herself.

"And as the nasty and manipulative mother who had separated them argued, her own parents – Howard and Vivianne's grandparents – forbade them from battle." Gwyneth continued. "Showing that they were wiser than their daughter. Not all who are involved with an act are knowing participants, nor are even those that act harshly always evil."

"Unless they hurt your family!" Tess grumped with crossed arms, clearly trying not to smile at the story and illusions.

With a few embellishments, perhaps a stronger action scene at the climax, it would be a wonderful tale of romance and family. The moral, should it be retained, would not be an awful one to teach children either.

It could even be used to aid in reconciliation between their loyalists and Crowley's rebels; placing the blame for what brought about the rebellion on a few bad actors while others were merely whisked into a storm of events they could not control, wisely finding common ground before it was too late.

Noting the new arrivals to the garden, Mia put the thought aside for later. "Liam, Lorna. I trust that your first day of court has not been too exhausting?"

"It was... pleasant enough, Mother." Liam said with a tired smile. "But I am afraid we have business with Witch Arevin before we retire and cannot delay long; otherwise I would join Tess in her play."

"Tess would certainly have enjoyed your presence." Mia offered as she stood; the curse of responsibility, if allowed to crow freely, could too easily claim its due from those they held most dear. "It is, however, time the children were abed, so I shall take them while you handle your business."

"Thank you, Lady Greymane." Lorna said softly, not quite meeting Mia's gaze as they approached the children.

The change in title stung faintly, little done through history to handle the abdication of kings. At least she was not cruel about it. "Mia, dear." She put aside her hurt and smiled. "We are family, are we not?"

"I suppose we are, no matter how strained the circumstances might be." Lorna returned with little emotion. That quickly changed as her friend stood to greet her. "Gwen! I'm afraid we have to cut your reunion short, we have a request for you."

"A necessary task due to your actions as part of the rebellion." Liam said with far less warmth. "Though your conduct speaks well for your honour, the truth remains that you rebelled against the crown."

Beside her teacher, Patricia looked mutinous, her emotions expressed freely, but she remained silent.

"She has to get me a wolf!" Tess yelled, jumping to her feet and pointing at Gwyneth rudely. "Or I won't forgive her! A proper riding wolf, like she was, but not a fox because I want a wolf!"

Covering her mouth Mia hid her laughter at the outburst and the nonplussed expression her son wore. One truly had to have been present and witnessed the witch parading around with children atop her back, obeying their direction, to understand what Tess meant.

Or perhaps be more familiar with Gwyneth, as Lorna simply shook her head and smiled. "That would be two tasks then, one to collect a wolf from the Alteraci that you mentioned previously, and... something best discussed in private."

Gwyneth tilted her head quizzically and raised an eyebrow. "Did... I never tell you that the Frostwolves were an orcish clan?" She asked slowly.

"I still want my wolf!" Tess turned on Liam, putting her hands on her hips dramatically. "You promised!"

He had done no such thing. If he had, Mia would have heard of it well before now... however, that seemed to be of little matter, as Liam's concern and resolve quickly crumbled in the face of his sister.

"Speak plainly, do you believe acquiring a wolf from these, ah, Frostwolves, possible?"

It took a few moments, but Gwyneth soon nodded her head. "Yes." She replied easily. "They didn't take part in the first or second wars, make their home in the mountains as out of the way as they can, and generally just want to live. There are a great many things we could trade with them that they do not easily have access to, or even just political recognition for their claim over the valley they live in may hold weight."

Orcs that hadn't fought in the wars? Mia was sceptical of such a thing, yet the witch was confident, and her words held more than some weight.

"Something that will need careful consideration." Mia said, looking to her son and receiving his agreement. "However! Such matters do not need your input, Tess. Poor Lianne is already asleep and the two of you are awake far past time to be abed!"

"Mother!" Tess protested piteously; but Mia could see the look in her eye, the way they darted about as she sought an escape. She was ready to run and make merry hell in her escape.

Only to be thwarted by Patricia taking her hand. "Queen Mia says it's time for bed, Princess Tess." She said with a voice that wavered between terrified and chiding. "It's been a long day and you can start preparing for your wolf in the morning. Um. The kennels should have someone...?"

"Houndmaster Shaw may be a little rough, but he knows his hounds." Mia said as she lifted little Lianne to her chest, the young girl wrapping her arms around her neck and snuggling in sleepily. "I am sure there is much you can learn than is applicable to wolves."

If they were truly to have riding wolves, of the sort suited to carrying orcs, they would undoubtedly need to expand the kennels as well. Such creatures would hardly fit in the current accommodations.

At least she would have plenty to keep herself busy with in the coming years.