Cian stood in the garden beside the breakfast table. It was Harvest Festival, the first day, and his mother had helped dressed him in his formal Harvest garb. The burnt orange doublet reminded him of spiced fruits and ripe pumpkins. The cr?me colored shirt beneath had the fanciest embroidery he had ever seen on his clothes. His father had clothes like those. They were too big for him. He would wear them someday maybe.

Maybe when he was as big as Uncle Keefe. Calling him Uncle Keefe only happened in his mind. He liked calling him that, but something felt wrong saying it out loud. Even if Aunt Lyana and he were again married in one sense, not by the sense of The Twelve, it still was better to call him Lord Keefe when he spoke. Sometimes it was hard not to say it when the man laughed with the rest of the family or played games with he and his brother and sister. But, then there were the days with the council, and court hearings. No, he was Lord Keefe out loud.

They were there now, some of their guests as well. Professor Jolyon was there, telling Aidan, Avery, Lina, Gaer, and Beata a story of some far away land. The story was similar to one of their own bedtime stories, but Cian had stepped away to stand by his mother, distancing himself from the tales of outworlders. Uncle Maelgwn, the King of Palendies, had not liked his mother because she was foreign, or something like that. It had happened not so long ago -her being kept in Seansloe Manor. He remembered, even if they did not, all gathered about the table eating and talking about what the day would be with such cheer like the bright sun shining on the cool day.

Cian knew what the day would be, at least the start of it. He would have to begin the festivities and the play of the year. On that banner would be the symbols he had been taught. On that banner would be the battles in the land as well as the good things. His mother had said last night over dinner that she wondered if there would be a harvest banner that had only wonderful things on it. Too many years, she had said, of dark and solemn symbols. Uncle Keefe had hope there would be and pointed out the excellent crop year that would lessen their need of grains from outworld. Uncle Maelgwn should be happy for that, he had said.

There was a speech to do, too, at the beginning of the festival. He repeated the words over and over in his mind. He knew his mother would be there to help him if he needed it, but this was his part. He could do it. Still, he was glad she would be near him.

His mum, he had often thought, had a way of knowing when he was thinking of her. Her hand touched his back and it warmed him. He smiled up at her. Her eyes were bright he thought, violet like the flowers in the meadow. She was smiling, and the apple red gown was soft to the touch, even over its own intricate embroidery. Cian wanted to crawl up into her lap and have her hold him so he could hear her heart beat and feel her breath. He could not though. There were guests, and he had formal duties to see to that day.

As the conversation buzzed around him, he listened and watched. His missed his father. He wanted his father there, laughing with Uncle Keefe, and Master Ewan, and Professor Jolyon, and?Uncle Lucky wasn?t there. Nor was Master Hudson. Then, if his father had been there he thought Master Hudson probably wouldn?t have been. No difference, he guessed. No, it did not matter in the end. His father wasn?t there. He would never be there.

?Cian,? his mother spoke softly to him as she took his hand, ?are you ready??

?Yes, Mum,? he felt his stomach flip flop. He wanted to play and run around like the other children who were playing some sort of game with Master Gaerwyn and Master Ewan. The tale had to have ended while he was thinking. Maybe later, he thought, when Master Ewan was competing. He could cheer then. Nobody would think badly of that. Master Ewan was the champion when he competed. Yes, he could play then. ?Yes, Mum, I?m ready.?

His mother smiled to their company. ?Please, feel free to stay and enjoy the meal. It is time Cian and I went to see the tithings before going to the square for the start of the festival. We are sure to see you all later.?

"Going to get called away again this year, Red Bird?" Gaerwyn taunted his cousin.

Ewan hated that nickname. It was like he was perpetually the younger relative hanging around the older boys games. Just the mascot to their foolish pastimes. "You know, old man, you are lucky I am such a peaceful man." He caught the knowing glance from Gaerwyn and smiled in reply to it. More it was helpful that they were in the company of their children. "To answer your question, though, I know it is the only way you have a chance to win in these contests, but I do plan on competing the entire day. There are some messages to be sent."

Indeed there were messages to be sent, and showing the competitors in the Harvest Festival games of arms that he had not lost any of his skill would do more than twenty personal meetings. His contacts had deteriorated with his lengthy absence. More than ever, he needed to find someone to work in his stead - an apprentice in some respects.

"Did you know that Vetras is going to compete, papa?" Gaer smiled up at his father and cousin, whom he called uncle.

Gaerwyn frowned at the news and asked, "And just where did you hear that?"

"The guards this morning were talking about it. I heard it, too, papa." Lina nodded as she claimed her father's hand.

"That is going to make things interesting."

Ewan knew full well what Gaerwyn meant by 'interesting.' To have a Sedlaral in the competitions was going to unnerve some. Maybe, he thought, it even unnerved him. There would be competitors who had fought the Sedlaral, but only Ewan had become one. It still haunted him. It haunted him more with the memory of his Mistress Death come to visit of late. The timing felt more than coincidental.

It could not be helped, though, and Ewan had other tasks to accomplish by defeating all opponents. In fact, as he thought about it, he perhaps had an advantage.

"What are you smiling about, Ewan?" Gaerwyn asked and all eyes turned up to him.

Not compelled to share the answer, he nodded to the cordoned field where a crowd had already gathered. "Time to begin."

Ewan smiled and lifted his mug of cider to another passerby wishing him well on his win that day. He stood just a few yards behind where Her Excellency gathered with others to enjoy the light and warmth of the bonfires and listen to the minstrels, bards, and poets share their harvest of music and verse.

The crowd moved with an easy, joyfulness of a fine first day of the festival. The air was full of spice and beer as much as laughter and song. Still, he and the guards were careful in their celebrations. He was as relaxed as he was bound to become, which considering the lack of any hint of threat to Her Excellency, actually included some smiles, laughs, and jests of his own with friends and family. Even a kiss to Storm's cheek when someone complimented his good fortune in his wife.

Storm observed the crowd, and the continuing of the celebration. The community simply being together reminded her of home, and the comforts that both her homeworld and Yransea had to offer that RhyDin did not. That, along with Kellan's birth the previous year, made the Harvest Festival take a special place in her heart.

As people walked by and complimented Ewan, for what seemed to be more than just his victory in the competitions, she smiled warmly at her husband, "So beloved, how does it feel to be the champion?" Her eyes were full of mirth as she teased. It was the second time she had been able to watch him compete, and once more he took all the winnings.

At her teasing question, he turned slightly away from the majority of the gathering so she alone might hear as he whispered, "Familiar." A wink sent her way as he turned back to face the ebb and flow of the throng.

He watched the professor take to dancing about the bonfire and smirked with an elbow to Gaerwyn's ribs, "Not going to dance about the bonfire?"

Gaerwyn rubbed at his ribs, he had gotten a sound hit on them early in the competition of staves. "No, thank you. I need to keep some of my pride for the sake of my family. Speaking of, I think I will go see to them. Lenika has been told to take it easy with the baby, but she seems determined to go on as before. I'll see you tomorrow, cousins."

"Surely you can find a way to be convincing to your wife, Gaerwyn." A light chuckle, "Have a good night." Her focused changed to the new song, with it's lively tempo and rhythm. The steps on the dance almost seamlessly changed to fit.

"This song is familiar to me, but the words I know are different." The smile didn't seem to ever leave her face as she turned once more to face Ewan, "So, am I honored to dance with the mighty champion?" With a low, brief laugh, Ewan set aside his mug and bowed to her before offering a hand out to her to join in the dance.

She took his hand and moved them the short distance to join the others dancing around the bonfires. The firelight seemed the bring the harvest colors to life, like falling leaves as they danced around. Ewan's steps were so in sync with hers, that she started to laugh, though it was hard to tell if it was from the dancing or some unspoken thought.

It was good to hear and see her laugh so openly, without reservation, that he cared little to know what the cause of it was, only that he hoped she continued to feel that way. As the dance brought them close, he shared some conversation. "Think Avery was disappointed that we did not have a celebration for Kellan?" He did not think so, but Avery did not always confide in him. Perhaps, he hoped, the festival had been enough. Had he maybe seen Avery smile with some pride at his father winning? Maybe he had imagined it. There were times he and Avery still had conflicts, but he had been around more of late. That was something else he had to remedy, and the competition had given him ideas.

"No, I do not think so." She snuck a hand out to tuck away one of his curls that fell across his forehead during the dancing, "And I do not think that Kellan minds. I think he was too busy cheering for you than to think much of Kellan or me, for that matter." She might have missed a few steps to the dance, but she sneak a quick kiss.

A smile at the kiss, he kept in movement with the circuit of the bonfire with others. "It was a near thing at the end." Perhaps honest, though he could have been more vicious if it were not for sport alone, and it would have been over much more quickly. "I am glad to have had the support. Was that clacking wood sound Avery?"

She smiled at his correct guess, and nodded, "I tried to teach him how to whistle, but I am thinking I am not a very good teacher for it. We improvised. But it seems you heard it just the same."

"Hmm, so I did. Others, I think noticed as well." He smiled, then ventured to broach a subject where he hoped the general frivolity of the moment might counter any anxiety. "I trust you noticed Vetras's bouts in the field competition if not in the weapons throwing."

She had been watching Vetras very closely throughout the entire day. Her subtle glances could have possibly been caught by Ewan, but he had been on the competition field as well. Her questions about the interactions she witness were kept to the back of her mind to a more appropriate time, but if he wanted to discuss some of it now, she would. "Yes, I noticed."

"He has a talent." He stated matter of factly, though a turn in the dance parted them briefly. When they joined hands once more, he added, "Do you not think so?"

She bought more time with the separation during the dance to answer, "Yes. He did well in the competition. One would hope that he had some talent if he felt the need to compete."

"A peculiar amount of talent for one of his age with no formal training except the last year, perhaps?" If Ewan did not know better, he would have thought Storm was being purposely hesitant in her responses. Likely, it was the dance, but really there was no better place at the moment.

She tried not to think about anything of Vetras that happened before the first time they meet. Regardless of their relationship now, there would always be a piece of Storm that would remember the past, and what had happened to Ewan. Still, she went along with the conversation for whatever point Ewan would eventually make. "That is because it is more than a natural talent. It's here," the dance brought them close, and she lightly tapped his forehead, "Vetras has his wits about him."

"I think," he began in one of the turns and continued when it ended "it might be more than that. I think he is the one, Storm." It rankled him a little to say it. Something about speaking the idea out loud soured it into the cruel light of reality.

Her breath caught for a moment as her mind's first reaction was instant denial. She worked on a neutral expression as she considered Ewan's proposition seriously. Her apprehensions were personal, but if her husband could see past that, then she would also. Besides that, the recent haunting of Ewan's Mistress was already something Storm could barely grasp. Her husband needed her support. "If you believe that it is so," she gave a single nod and a small smile, "then that is what we will do."

She went so willingly with the idea, that he suddenly felt more uncertain than before. "It was an idea only. I will wait some before making a decision." The dance complete, the tune changing, he guides her from the bonfires and the topic of discussion. "Something to drink, beloved?"

"We have not done that at home in a long while." She seemed unaffected by his cryptic answer, "Or has it lost a thrill for you? Sooner or later my tricks will become dull." She gave a teasing grin in hopes of seeing a smile in return.

"I find that highly unlikely. We have not done so for a long while for many reasons, I suppose. It is not like you have suggested it either, beloved." He held his hand out in silent question for the mug so he might share in some of the cider.

"True." She offered the cider to his outstretched hand, "I will have to find a night for the nanny just to take us up when we get home."

"I look forward to it very much." He sipped the cider and handed it back. "It is not too bad." A sidelong glance to Storm at his reference to the cider's flavor.

She laughed lightly and nodded, "I think it was at its full potential when it was overflowing." She took another sip and make a face just to add to the tease.

"Ohh, I see." A soft, brief laugh and nod. The walls of the manor and its torchlights, warm, mellow, unmagicked and natural filled him with welcome. He gave the call at their approach and was answered. The way through the courtyard and halls spotted with small nods only.

The manor brought a mixture of memories, ranging to some of her happiest and most terrifying moments. Even now, when she thought of the fear she held for her children during the attack, a shiver ran down her spine. She tried to steer her mind to a lighter, more happy time in the present. "Your cousins look good. I am very happy for them."

"Aye, so they do and I, too, am happy for them." He tried not to think if he was in some way jealous as well, living in Yransea, having the full use of their skills and trade, a purpose and love, not just one or the other. He fought that thought and smiled to Storm as he opened the door to their rooms. "No doubt a bath can be drawn for you if you should like one."

"That depends. How interested are you in a bath?" Her voice lowered as they entered their room to keep from waking the children, but the teasing query had the same tone. She set the cider cup on the nearest end table to finally free her hands.

"I am not, but I did not want to deprive you. I rather like the smokey, earthy smell from time to time." A wry grin, he walked over to each child in turn to check on them, though states of slumber were deep as told by Avery's askew bed linens and Kellan's behind in the air, curled up on his stomach.

She followed him to each child, more out of habit than general concern before answering, "I do not see much enjoyment in a bath at the moment without you. I rather like your smokey scent anyway." She mirrored his wry grin.

A hushed chuckle, he drew her into his arms. "I should have known."