Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

              Summer heat was really starting to get to him, even as it was approaching the cool of the day—nightfall would come soon. That just meant all this sweat slicked to his skin would turn ice cold in the chilled breeze. Why was he here again? It was a nice, even-cool in mid Orlais, and at the very least, he could be in a bar with Klaus, with his friends, enjoying some ale, some music, comradery. His last damn tour out, he could finally…he wasn’t sure. Make something more of himself than just a soldier, just someone who followed orders. Maybe be someone who gave the orders—Klaus seemed to think he could, anyway…Cyril accused him of being bossy enough, but that bastard knew him better in the bedroom than he did on the battlefield. A few days ago, he’d been packing up to just head out on his own and just be with his men, those who served with him, were getting out with him, make their plans for the future. And then that damn letter came.

              It’s almost Liddy’s day, Thom. Death-day. Not birthday. For a damn eight-year-old. I just want to see you. I just want to see my son, please. Come home.

              Mother…

              Things were complicated, to say the least. Hadn’t heard from her in years, not since he went out on his own, started fending for himself. How old had he been, thirteen? Fourteen? Hitting the streets and taking after himself, crashing on friend’s floors and taking up whatever work he could get his hands on. Til he came of age, and Tourney was in the prospects. Worked hard, trained harder, got good enough to throw his hat in the ring at eighteen. That changed his damn life. Best thing that ever happened to him, got him solid ground—money, acclaim, love. He'd squandered the money, but Tourney got him his job, his work for the Orlesian Military serving under Grand Duke Gaspard himself. He’s just got out, just got everything ahead of him, and suddenly mother’s writing, begging to see him, swearing up and down she’s been clean for years, told Dolan to shove off, not entertaining any of the nonsense she’d been about when- she-

              She should have been there when Liddy died.

              Liddy shouldn’t’ve died in the first place. She was sick. She needed healers. Potion. But those cost money. And so does opium. And boyfriends that beat you, beat your children, steal your coin. Bail money, buy offs for protection from gangs that shouldn't have an interest in them in the first place. And the rent’s overdue, and there hasn’t been a thing on the table Thom and Cyril didn’t steal or beg for for months. And Liddy doesn’t get to see her ninth birthday. But she does get to struggle for every last breath, take a turn for the worse that sends Thom running for help, only find none, because the only goddamn healer that’ll see her in an emergency has already been called to her bedside. Mother finally pulled her head out from between some bastard’s thighs long enough to do the right thing, far too late. Healer’s assistant says where he’s gone so Thom bolts, is running back, stops, stops for one second to pick another flower, just one more, maybe it’ll help make Liddy feel better, make her smile. And he gets home, Mother refused to be in the house the whole while the doctor worked, and she’s gone. Her, her soul, her body, Liddy’s been swept away, cast out because Mother couldn’t take it, couldn’t wait five fucking minutes for Thom to get back, to say goodbye, just the flower in his hand, eight more on the sill.

              I love you. I miss you. I’m sorry, Thom. If you don’t come I’ll understand. But if you do, you’ll do me far more kindness than I deserve. Who the hell lives a life where their decisions leave them talking like that? Begging for mercy and compassion they don’t deserve? His mother. He’d never live like that, would rather die than make the mistakes she had.

              Felt like a mistake. Felt like he was a damn fool, hoofing it all this way, back to Maker-cursed Markham, for this Maker-cursed day.

              He’s tired, so tired and still, too many miles out from the city. Three, but it might as well be thirty the way his horse is miserably clopping along. Wasn’t sure why, he was fed, watered, was the heat getting to him? Was he sick? Maybe Thom was being too much of a man-child over this whole thing, been in a mood all week, short, and grouching about everything, his attitude is probably catching. His own miserable depression, depressing the hell out of his horse.

              There was this field*, stank to high heaven when it was full of druffalo, but it was too hot for them to be grazing in it this time of year. That meant maybe he and his horse could stop in on the stream, just on the other side from the road, clean up, cool off, get some relief and hydrate. Probably a good idea since he’s pretty sure no matter what happens when he gets to Markham, he’s drinking himself into a stupor. Going in hydrated might take the edge off his hangover come morning…afternoon, whenever.

              But the sun’s been set a while now, and there’s so much light out he’s not sure what’s going on. Was he…was he even in the right place? He could see familiar landmarks, the barest shape of Markham’s towering buildings in the distance. This should be it, but it…it can’t be, could it?

              Light, beautiful, brilliant light in all different shades and colors is iridescent against the night sky. And that sky is full of stars, the very kind that can take your breath away and you’d thank it, even if it never gave it back.

              His horse came to a stand still at the edge of the field and Thom just barely perceived himself slipping out of the saddle, walking out to just…he’d been looking to bathe in the stream, but this? He’d settle just fine with bathing in such glorious light was- was anyone else seeing this? It was incredible, how- how had he never- surely it’d never done this before. How could he not have known? Just a half hour’s ride from his childhood home, there was something this beautiful, this pure?

              “Holy Maker,” Thom breathed as he came to stand in the midst of the field.

              And then he heard a startled gasp.

              He whipped about to find it’s source, something, someone, was sitting up, they’d just been laying in the tall grass, watching the sky he supposed…he…he thought they were sitting up at least. Their uh, head didn’t even come up higher than the field.

              But large startled eyes stared up at him, brilliant green reflecting the heavens, scared and uncertain, staring at him like they were waiting for him to react somehow, to having found them. Him, he supposed…or her? Oh Maker, it was just a kid, a small, tiny little kid just out here in the middle of nowhere like this. Was she the farmer’s kid? Or grandkid probably…probably not. Druffalo farmer this way, Whitacre, he and his were uh, no darker than Thom. Unless someone, somewhere broke that pattern, this dusky skinned child didn’t belong to them. But her hair…her skin, it uh…Liddy and him hadn’t exactly shared a father. She’d been darker than Thom, especially…well, when she was real little, could go out and play in the sun, she’d brown up so dark he had to constantly defend his claim as her older sibling, people doubted it so. Her hair’d been thicker, curled like mad and this girl, where Liddy’s hair had been as raven as Thom’s, this girl’s hair was wild red, cut short, but it poofed out around her head in a great mass that was almost eerily familiar.

              “Uhh, hey, hey it’s okay—you’re just out here lookin’ at the stars, right?” he asked, crouching to be more level with her, hands splayed in the air before him and she looks at them hard, like she’s expecting something to come from them for a moment before she looks him in the eye again, Maker, she was trembling. He tried to go for soothing, “Me too. Brilliant, aren't they? I don’t mean you any harm, I didn’t even see you out here. I’m Thom. What’s your name?”

              She’s just staring at him, bewildered for a minute, before asking uncertainly, “N-name?”…was that a Marcher accent? That definitely wasn’t a Marcher accent, none he’d heard anyway. Just where the hell was she from? Where were her parents?

              “Yeah sweetheart, your name?” he asked, tapping his chest, “Thom Rainier,” and then he pointed to her.

              “E- Ellie.”

              That was more in Marcher territory. What the hell?

              “Ellie, that’s a very pretty name. Can you tell me why you’re out here on your own.”

              She just shakes her head at that, ‘no’.

              “O-okay. Where are your parents? Did you get separated, are you lost?”

              She thinks on it a moment, seems like she’s processing something, “No.”

              “I commend you not wanting to talk to strangers, that’s smart, but sweetheart if you’re lost, you need help. If you’re frightened I can give you direction to the farmer’s house—kindly old man, and he’s got the sweetest wife around. They’d be more than willing to help you find your parents, or I could find you a guardsman to hel-“

              “No!” she shrieks, startled at that, “No no no no no—no guards, n-no parents. I- que- orale,” she breathes like it’s a curse or something. “Ellie. Just me. No parents. I’m…” that… oh shit was that Antivan? Bloke he served with in the military was a former Crow, but fuck him if he knew anything other than filth in the language.

              Okay, so, language barrier. She seemed to be okay-ish with his speech, so he tried to help, “You’re not lost?” she shook her head, “No parents, not lost, are you…do you not have parents?”

              She actually brightened at that, snapping as she pointed to him, “Si! Si! No padres! P-parents. Sorry. Antivan es mi lengua maternal. I’m still learning Trade,” she offered shyly.

              “Have you got any family?” he asked, and she shook her head, “Friends?”

              “Ava.”

              Oh thank the Maker, “Ava—she an adult? Er, like me?”

              She seemed to consider that, “Older.”

              “She’s older?” and when she nodded, he breathed a sigh of relief, okay, an actual adult knew this kid, thank the Maker. “Where is she?”

              The girl just looks up at the sky, squinted, and then reached an arm out behind her to point. “Tantervale, go around the east side, avoid the guard posts, and then south,” she recited, like she’d been made to remember it. Bloody…bloody Tantervale, eh? That was on the other ass end of the continent, so cool. Was she confused?

              “Ellie, I wasn’t asking where she lives—I’m asking where she is. Did she leave you here while she went into town? Markham?”

              “No. She’s at her home. I’m here.”

              He let out a frustrated sigh, “And what are you doing here?”

              “Being alive?”

              Okay. “How old are you, sweetheart?”

              She hummed a bit, “It is 9:34?” she asked, he nodded, and she smiled, “I’m…” she consulted her fingers carefully before thrusting her hands up toward him with the correct number of digits poking up, “eight!” Oh Maker, “You?”

              Him? “I’m thirty,” he said, and her eyes grew big in her head,

              “Que?!” she squeaked in surprise, and he chuckled.

              “I am, honest.”

              She reached out and pressed an index finger against his cheek as if that would verify his age and then nodded. “Okay. Ava’s a hundreds.” A hundreds?

              “Well then, she certainly is older than me,” he supposed…and a hundreds of miles out of reach. So what in the hell was he supposed to do? She- she couldn’t just stay out here, could she? “Ellie, are you staying with anyone?”

              “The Maker—He’s making the sky so pretty!” she enthused. “So I’m sitting with Him. Sleep. There is a city, I can find food,” she was positive.

              She…oh shit, she was just- she was eight. And- and homeless? And fending for herself?

              Well. Not for herself. Not tonight, anyway. Maker help him.

              “Well sweetheart, I live in that city, or at least I did a long time ago. I have a room I’m staying in,” or he'd been planning to get one when he arrived at least, no way in hell was he going near his old place unless…until- mother could wait there was an actual orphan situation happening in front of him! “The Maker is um, making the sky very pretty, but He’s also going to make the air very very cold tonight. I wouldn’t want you to get sick, catch cold. You can come with me, if you want. For tonight, anyway.” He’d…shit, he’d ask around tomorrow, see what could be done. Markham was lousy with orphanages…not…not that they were worth much. Shitty as their home situation had been, Thom’d fought tooth and nail to stay out of the system, Liddy’d have never made it as long as she had if they’d been taken, and then he sure as hell hadn’t been going in for himself later. Could…could he really put this girl into the same system he balked at? Maybe things were different now, time passed, things changed, Mother was claiming miraculous healing, so maybe some reform had been brought to other areas of Markham as well.

              She was staring up at him, thinking, and then she was very quiet, closed her eyes, head hanging a bit…was she praying? Seemed like she consulted something because the next minute, she looked to him and grinned a big- oh toothy and toothless, missing two little teeth just off to the right of her two front teeth, a gap to the left in her lower teeth, “Okay!”

              “Okay,” he agreed, nodding. And then…well it wasn’t too cold, just yet, and she’d seemed pretty struck by the stars, thought the Maker was…well, he supposed He was, making them do whatever it was they were doing just now. “We’ll watch the Maker play with the sky a bit longer, shall we?”

              He- he was going to ignore the stutter in his chest when she looked so very happy at that. “Gracias!” she giggled, smiling so big and bouncing in place a bit, hair swaying with the motion. She patted the space beside her, “Ven aqui!”

              So uh, he ven aqui’d or whatever. Sat on down alongside her, laid back, and looked up at the changing stars.

              It was nearly midnight, when he and Ellie made the final stretch into town. It’d been a time getting her onto his horse—Nathan, she’d wanted to know his name first and foremost. She hadn’t been afraid so much as she’d been in love, she thought the raven steed was just ‘muy guapo! So beautiful!’ and he’d held her up so she could pet the beast’s face, ended up peppering it with little kisses while she thanked the horse. For letting her along for the ride, he supposed, she worried about how much Nathan had to carry—between Thom’s packs, and the man himself, adding her and her…painfully empty little sack she was carrying around. She was painfully little too, Maker, he’d almost dropped her he’d been so, just- just- appalled! She’d looked tiny in the field, but he’d supposed that sorted, she was just a little kid, but she was practically the skeleton of a little kid, morbid as that sounded. So light, and when he’d held her up he felt the ridges between her ribs, made his guts twist up. She was starving, had to be, he knew what that was like better than anyone. And she certainly wasn’t going to be doing that under his roof, temporary or otherwise.

              He quietly asked her when last she ate, and she just shrugged. Informed him she couldn’t remember, no weight to it, it was just a fact, and it didn’t seem to bother her…in a way that said this was normal, normal to the extent she didn’t know much else, so she didn’t have anything to compare the experience to, to tell her just how horrible it was. He’d wanted to ask her more, but uh, few seconds of her seated secure in the saddle before him, Maker where had she come from? She was exhausted, she’d started humming a children’s Chantry hymn and drifted off and boom, out like a light.

              First place he stopped…shit, he didn’t know what to do—she needed to eat, but he didn’t want to put a total shock to her system, make her sick because he fed her something her stomach couldn’t handle after so long of not working to digest food. And she was so small, and- he needed something, help. So he followed the main road, made his way to the nearest Healer’s, someone was burning the midnight oil it looked like, hopefully they could help. He…this time, he had the money, and it was his and no one was taking it.

              Didn’t recognize the bloke, it wasn’t anyone he’d seen coming up, a nice younger fellow that promised up and down he really was the Healer, had inherited his practice from his father who was retired, but lived just down the street—he’d fetch him if Thom was going to demand a more experienced Healer, but he’d experience enough it seemed. It felt…he didn’t much like it, having to let her go, lay her down on the little cot in the Healer’s office, but she needed examined he thought.

              “Alright, let’s see here…” the Healer was quiet once he plugged his ears with some sort of instrument, the other end of it he pressed against her chest to listen through the thin, fraying material of Ellie’s tunic. She couldn't just walk around like that, she didn't even have any shoes. “Well, she’s got a good thing going with her heart…lungs sound like she’s just getting over something, has she been sick lately?”

              “I uh, I don’t know, I only just-“ met her, but that probably would not sound very above-board. He’d never even dream of hurting a child, but there were many who would, “took her in,” he opted for.

              “Oh, well congratulations,” he offered for whatever reason. “If she’s got a persisting cough or starts up a fever, feel free to bring her on back in, it just sounds like chest congestion is clearing up,” he said, before moving on to checking her pulse, “Yup, vitals are all good…she doesn’t look like she’ll stack up to any decent percentials for her age.”

              “Percentials?”

              “Ranges for growth, the healthy levels all children should be growing at. She’s eight, you said?”

              “Y-yes ser,” Thom confirmed. “She uh, I think she was starving, before. S’why I brought her here first, I didn’t want to risk making her sick.”

              Healer grinned warmly at that, “Yeah, new to it, huh? No worries, you did the right thing—if she hasn’t eaten in a long while, solid food will only hurt the situation. I’ll warm up some broth, there’s nutritive potion she can take with it if she holds it down well, and we should make sure she’s properly hydrated. Did she pass out, or did she just fall asleep?”

              …oh shit, oh hell had she passed out? He’d just thought she was tired, but-

              She woke with a big yawn, squinting up at him, and offering a quiet, “Hola, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get sleepy.”

              “Hablas Antivan, mija?” the Healer asked at her accent.

              “Si,” she offered shyly, sitting up. “Quien eres tu?”

              “Healer Richard. Eres Ellie, si? Es eso corto para algo?”

              She shook her head, “No, solo Ellie.” Wasn't sure what that meant, but solo Ellie sounded about right.

              “You speak Trade, I hope? Understand it, at least?”

              “Si! Yes, sorry,” she apologized at the blunder.

              “You don’t have to apologize—you’re only eight and handling two different languages at once,” Thom defended, almost resting a hand on Ellie’s shoulder- oh he, he pulled back almost immediately when she flinched, and then she blushed, looking at him like she might apologize but, “You’re doing fine. I’m here to help you, you need it, just say the word.”

              She nodded. “Why are we here, Healer Richard?”

              “Well, you’ve been poorly recently, and you haven’t eaten in quite some time, your father was worried about you and brought you to me for some help. How does chicken broth sound?”

              “Father?” Ellie questioned, confused, oh bloody hell he- he wasn’t-

              “’m just Thom,” he offered them both.

              Healer nodded, “Everyone starts out someplace a little bit different, you gotta do what suits you two best huh?” he looked to Ellie, “So, broth?”

              The girl looked to Thom who smiled encouragingly and she offered the shyest nod, blushing, with a quiet little, “Yes please,” as she fidgeted with the end of her sleeve.

              “I’ll go warm some up, you just sit tight with your Thom, okay?”

              “Okay,” she agreed. She worried her lip as he left and looked up to Thom, “I’m- I’m really sorry, I didn’t think you would…er, this would be…I don’t want to be a pr-problem,” she struggled with the words, but got it out.

              “Well then, it’s a good thing for you, you aren’t one. A problem, that is. It um…” Thom struggled, but not for lack of familiarity with Trade. “It’s not healthy, sweetheart, to go so long without eating. Who feeds you?”

              “Me,” she shrugged. “Ava when I am with her.”

              “Is there some reason you aren’t able to stay with her?” Thom wondered.

              Ellie bit her lip again, turning red as she looked away, hands fidgeting nervously. “It- um. It isn’t safe,” she said. “I can’t stay too long. I can’t um…” she looked to him, like she was making sure he understood that, “I can’t stay anywhere too long.”

              …”Well- why not?”

              She shrugged. “It just isn’t safe. It’ll be sad if you know. I don’t want you to be sad, you’re nice.”

              He opened his mouth to just- he wasn’t sure what, he wasn’t even sure where to begin asking questions of this girl.

              So he didn’t, he just sat quietly, and watched with this damn…it felt stupid, the damn smile on his face as he saw her get some much needed nutrients. She took careful sips of broth, managed to down it like a champ and she promised it didn’t upset her tummy any. Potion came next, concentrations of vitamins that wouldn’t tax her body to absorb, but the Healer did remind them of the late hour and that she would need proper sleep.

              “Do you need anything else, Ellie? Any other complaints? Your cold sounds like it’s clearing up, does anything hurt?” the Healer asked.

              “Cold?” she asked.

              “You probably felt congested, like you had trouble breathing? Tired, runny nose, stuffy head, coughing,” the Healer listed off.

              She just nodded at that and said, “I’m fine. Um. E-except,” Maker the child looked embarrassed. “M-my back hurts.” Her back? Had he held her too roughly or set too harsh a pace with Nathan? “I-i-it isn’t a b-big proble-“ she was already backtracking.

              “Sweetheart, if it’s hurting you, of course it’s a problem," Thom breathed, "Let the Healer take a look, alright? Are you okay with that?” he checked.

              She nodded, quiet and she turned to sit on the cot with her back to them, startling ever so slightly when the Healer began raising up her shir-

              He could never dream of hurting a child, but he could certainly kill a man. Thom Rainier could murder someone, murder them dead—he hadn’t been too rough with this girl, someone- someone had- there was a clear outline of a boot print purpling and blacking on the right side of her back, just below her shoulder blade. It had the Healer looking at Thom for all of a second, assessing, weighing in his mind the chances Thom would have been the one to put that on this girl and then bring her here and encourage her to seek help for it.

              Healer Richard blew out a breath and then, calmly, “Okay sweetheart, I have something that will help that. Some nice Elf-Root cream will make it feel all better, I promise.”

              “Gracias,” she offered quietly.

              “De nada,” the Healer said. “I’m gonna go grab it, Thom’s going to come with me a minute, okay?”

              Her arms were resting on her knees and she put her head down against them, “Okay.”

              “But don’t worry mija, we’ll be right back and in the meantime,” he stepped over to the bookcase on the wall and pulled a warm brown stuffed bear off a shelf, arm craning around her to put the thing in front of her so she could see when she peaked up to check what was happening. “This, is my most trusted friend Mister Russel. Say ‘hola’ to Senorita Ellie, Russel,” he commanded the thing, offering in a growly, silly voice, “Hola!” that sent the girl giggling a bit, oh Maker that was a sweet sound.

              “Hola Senor Russel,” she greeted the bear shyly, and when it seemed alright, she took the offered bear and held it close.

              “You two get to know each other, okay? He’ll watch out for you while we go get your medicine,” the Healer assured, gesturing for Thom to follow him.

              He led him deeper into the house, into a pantry that made Thom’s nose itch from all the fresh, herbal smells, medicinal plants hanging all around, jars upon jars of salve and bottles of potion lining the shelves.

              “You uh, only just took her in? Local orphanage?” he asked Thom and before he could even begin formulating an answer to that, the man scoffed, “Figures. I swear. Every other week a kid turns up injured or dead from one of those places. You’re lucky she got out when she did—you know your rights, yeah? You’ve been given full custody?”

              “I- I’m not sure,” Thom offered weakly. He’d been planning to start with the orphanages. But uh, nothing had changed much on that front, had it? Damn it.

              “Well for her sake, you better get sure.”

              “No where’s safe for kids like her, is it?” Thom asked…like a statement, conversational, but he was really, really asking. He couldn’t- he couldn’t possibly take in a child.

              “Chantry’s the only place that treats them right—regular meals, education, no beatings or anything just lots of Chant assignments or something to pay ‘penance’ for bad behavior. Worst I’ve ever seen is a Chantry Mother smacking a kid good with a ruler to the hand for stealing.”

              Chantry…the Chantry—of course! Why hadn’t he thought of that sooner? Took all of two seconds meeting her and she was offering up poetics about the Maker making the sky so beautiful, she found some peace in her faith, the Chantry’d suit her just fine! The only thing Ellie’d be stealing is Chantry Mothers’ hearts. Pretty sure no matter how this turned out, she was walking away with his. Damn him, this girl.

              Healer Richard was overall kind, and helpful—enough so he took Ellie’s being tentative with touch into consideration, tied an applicator to Mister Russel’s paw and as far as the girl was concerned, the bear was responsible for Elf Root cream being rubbed into her back, sinking into her bruise and already beginning to clear it away, and not the Healer maneuvering said paw. The Healer handed off a jar of the stuff to Thom for if she needed it later, and a few more vials of nutritive potion, a list of instructions for her care, and the bill…huh. Wasn’t uh, too bad. He was just going to ignore the weird feeling that kept creeping up on him, every turn with being mistaken for her ‘father’, and uh, the fact the Healer wrote off a percentage of the bill in light of his ‘new parent discount’. And Healer Richard took one look at Ellie holding the stuffed bear up to him to return him, and said, “You know what? I think he’s better off with you right now. Don’t let this get around,” he shared conspiratorially, “but Russel told me, you’re his favorite patient we’ve ever had.”

              “Really?” Ellie asked, bewildered.

              “Really,” the Healer promised.

              Ellie was quiet as they left the Healers, stepping out onto the porch and taking in the sight of the city street. “Where’s Mister Nathan?” she asked.

              “Sleeping soundly in the stables I suspect,” for some reason that had her giggling shyly, face buried in the crook of her new bear friend’s neck. “What’s so funny?” he asked jovially.

              “That was so much ssss sounds!” she explained, giddy over it.

              He found himself chuckling warmly at that, “It was,” he agreed, looking both ways into the street. It was dark, late, and just, you should always be safe, “Ellie, would you mind at all, holding my hand?”

              She looked up at him, considering, and then, “Okay,” she nodded, offering up her free hand. Maker, it was just, how did she navigate the world with such small hands? It was just tiny, enveloped in his own. He had to slow down, he realized, or she had to jog a bit to keep up with him, she had to be tired, he’d carry her if he thought she’d be okay with it. As it stood, they made their way to the inn and tavern Cyril recommended once when he tried convincing Thom to come back with him for a visit—go to see his parents, but uh, Thom hadn’t wanted to risk mother coming around or running into her, so. He was using the recommendation now, at least. He’d prefer a steady place he could stay while he was here, an excuse not to let mother guilt him into staying with her…mother, he wasn’t entirely sure how to even touch on that with Ellie around, he hardly wanted her influence around the girl.

              Barkeep was the owner, grouse older woman named Dana that supposed with ‘his kid’ tagging along being little enough she’d not charge him extra, but he was to keep an eye on her himself. Side-eyeing Thom for keeping the child up at all hours he supposed…though her clothing really was in tatters. He wasn’t even sure how to get her into the Chantry, and she needed things badly.

              “Name?” Dana asked as she pulled out a ledger, tucking the money he’d given up front away under the counter.

              “Thom Rainier.”

              Her hand stilled at that. “Rainier?” she recognized him from Tourney then- “The Captain?”

              …or the military. “Yes ma’am.”

              “Maggie’s Thom?”

              Oh. He cleared his throat. Maker. Shit. “Yeah. Margret Rainier’s my mother but-“

              “Well hell,” the woman sighed, passing him back his money. “I can’t charge Maggie’s kid, this place would’ve shut down years ago if it wasn’t for her. She’s always welcome to crash here, and so are you. Damn proud of you, always going on bragging about your work in the military—I still have the newspaper clipping from your victory at the Grand Tourney, been years but she’d kill me if I took it down. That woman went around buying up every copy she could get her hands on and making them rain the streets—keeps two copies framed, one for home, one for the office.”

              ….none of those words could even remotely be related to his mother. Spending wild amounts of money on something to dote on her son…helping someone run a business, having an office? Since when did Maggie Rainier work, let alone doing something that meant having a place of business? This was quite literally the first time he’d ever been recognized as her son, and it wasn’t a guardsman hunting him down to come bail her out of prison or some seedy bloke looking for money she owed or a uh, something more lewd. Had to start taking odd jobs, mercenary work in the first place because he couldn’t get out from under her shadow, anyone he met, if they knew he came from her, immediately painted him the same brush.

              “She’s never mentioned you had a kid, and she hasn’t been around to scream in excitement about being a grandmother, this a uh, new development?”

              “You could say that—she isn’t a grandmother,” she was barely a mother, “Just watching her for  a bit.”

              He felt strange, not paying, especially on account of some strange rapport mother had with this woman. He was worried she might realize he’s in town before he works up the nerve to go see her, but he sure as hell wasn’t dragging Ellie back out into the night. They’d find someplace new tomorrow night, and in the meantime he just said he’d rather Maggie not know he was in, that he was planning on surprising her which was rather the understatement considering the woman likely thought he’d never darken her doorstep again. Dana promised mother’d not hear it from her. So, they followed her up the stairs which Ellie took one at a time, squeezing Thom’s hand all the way up, and then they settled into the little room at the end of the hall. The woman said she’d be back with something warm to help send them off.

              Thom busied himself with getting the fireplace going, told Ellie to go ahead and take a seat while they waited for their drinks. This is certainly not how he saw his evening ending. He’d been planning on drinking himself to sleep, but that definitely wasn’t in the cards anymore. He set about warming the room a bit, clear the drafty chill. Ellie was sitting on the chair by the fireplace, legs swinging, Russel in her lap facing her as she made idle play.

              “Saying anything interesting?” Thom asked as he sat on the floor before her.

              She smiled and shrugged. “He’s nice. I…I don’t think I can keep him safe—would you take care of him when I leave?” she wondered tentatively.

              “Sure,” he supposed, “but lets table talk of you leaving for now.”

              “Table it?” she asked.

              Ahh. Well, he was speaking to an eight-year-old. “We’ll talk about it later,” he explained.

              “At a table?”

              He chuckled warmly, “Sure thing sweetheart.”

              “You have a mami?” she asked him curiously.

              “I do. Do you?” he wondered carefully, he still wasn’t clear when ‘no parents’ started for her, had they abandoned her, or were they dead?

              She shook her head. “No parents.”

              “Ever?”

              “Ever. Always just me.”

              “It can’t have always just been you your entire life, babies can’t really feed or tend to themselves,” he said.

              “No parents place.”

              She’d struggled around explaining she was an orphan before, maybe she didn’t know the word in Trade. “Orphanage?”

              “You’re from Antiva?”

              She blanched at that, hugging Russel to herself as she nodded. “Si.”

              “How’d you end up in the Free Marches?”

              “Wagon,” she said. “Um, there’s more Elf Root cream?”

              Oh, “Does your back still hurt?” he worried.

              “It feels lots better,” she assured nervously, fidgeting with her sleeves.

              “You’re hurt other places?” he prompted. Gut felt like it dropped to the floor when she nodded. “Do you need any help?” She shook her head, so he reached into his pack to fetch the jar for her, handing it off. Though she struggled with the lid bigger around than her hand and she grinned sheepishly.

              “I might need help,” she supposed. He should’ve thought of it anyway, he uncapped the jar for her and she was red faced as she rolled up a sleeve, tiny finger swabbing up a dot of translucent cream to rub into the rings of bruises wrapped around her wrist like a hand, spots of bruising further up—she seemed embarrassed so he gave her some privacy, turned his back, went to the window to make sure it was locked up secure, check out any traffic in the street. Quiet out, few people, a group of men heading from one bar to the other but all in all, it was a quiet street.

              “I’m done,” she quietly announced. He joined her, recapping the jar and tucking it away, her shirt was sticking to her skin a little on her chest, few different places on her stomach where she’d plied cream, hell. Her hands were messy from the cream—there was a washbasin full of water so he wet a washing cloth and sat back down before her, offering his hand and she gave him hers, let him clean them up.

              “Ellie…can you tell me how you got hurt?” all that got him was a shrug. “Sweetheart, someone hurt you—if you’re scared, I promise I’ll protect you, but I can only do that if I know who to look out for, okay?” he tried.

              “They’re far away.”

              Far away? Oh- oh Maker, “Ellie, did the people from your orphanage do this to you?”

              She stared at him wide-eyed like she was absolutely shocked he’d guessed such a thing, “How did you- oh. Oh. Not this,” she said. Not- what in the bloody hell, she’d been hurt like this before? In Antiva? And now…what, more recently, here? “It was my fault,” she said.

              “It isn’t your fault someone hurt you.”

              She shrugged. “I stayed too long.” So that called for laying hands on her?! Kicking or- or stomping on her it’d looked like.

              “So you…you ran away from an orphanage in Antiva because they were hurting you?”

              Oh she looked like she might cry. “No. They kicked me out.”

              “Kicked you out? Why?” What in heavens name could inspire someone to cast their girl from their home?

              She hopped out of the chair putting Russel in its seat before moving to walk around Thom who reached out and took hold of her hand to stop her before she reached the door, “I shouldn’t stay-“

              “Ellie-“

              “I can’t tell you!” she insisted, loudest he’d heard her speak, she’d shouted, tears spilling down her face as she met his gaze, her every expression determined and grim. “I can’t. I’ll just go.”

              Oh Maker, no, “If you don’t tell me, you can stay?”

              She stared at him a moment, thinking it over. “Yes.”

              “Then I won’t ask again,” not tonight, anyway. “Forget I said anything, Ellie. Please, sit back down. Russel’d miss you if you just up and left.”

              “…kay,” she agreed, resuming her seat with the bear in her lap.

              Dana ended up bringing them tea, warm milk for Ellie. While the girl thanked her sweetly, she looked at the milk for a bit rather than drinking it.

              “Do you not like milk?” he wondered.

              “Oh gosh, milk’s yummy,” she said, “it just might hurt my tummy right now. It’s hard to um…” she seemed to be searching for a word.

              “Digest?”

              “Uh-huh.”

              Tea smelled like cinnamon, so. No whisky for Thom Rainier tonight—he was getting sent off with a mug of warm milk…pleased to see the little happy wriggle cinnamon got out of the girl when she took her first sip of tea, it was apparently yummy too.

              He lent her use of his nightshirt, he certainly wasn’t changing with a little girl around, and he wasn’t too keen on leaving her alone. She changed in the corner of the room while he checked all the windows, secured the door, made sure the fire was out. He grabbed one of the pillows and threw it onto the floor and was just undoing the covers on the bed for her, but when he turned back around she was already seated on the floor with Russel, Maker his shirt swallowed her right up. It was in better shape than her own clothing, she could wear it until they got her some proper clothing he figured but uh, what was she doing? She laid Russel down with his head on the pillow before scooting her bottom so she could lay back, oh-

              “That’s for me. Bed’s for you, come on,” he said, patting the mattress.

              “Ah si?” she questioned, it came off like ‘really?’.

              “Of course,” he said. So she took up the bear and climbed up into the bed, it was a bit high for her, he was a little worried she’d roll out of it…he’d use his pack as a pillow, leave the other one on the floor at her bedside just in case.

              “Gracias,” she thanked him timidly as she settled in, back against the pillow.

              “Do you need anything?” he wondered, “Bedtime story? A song?”

              “I’m okay,” she said, laying down proper, Russel tucked against her side.

              “Alright,” he said, pulling the covers up over her, she snuggled in, drowsy. “Have sweet dreams, Ellie-girl.”

              It- he wasn’t- he turned out the oil lamp on the nightstand and quickly laid down, forgetting his pack, he didn’t need it, just scooted the pillow over in case she did have a fall and laid on his side, back to her. He’d not- he hadn’t even thought to say anything like that, it just fell from his lips, ‘Ellie-girl’, with an all too familiar cadence, something that winded him, left him feeling almost ill, eyes burning. His evening had gotten far more complicated than drowning out his woes of facing his mother. Maker.

              “Mister Thom?” Ellie’s voice squeaked out into the dark.

              “Yeah hun?” he asked back.

              “Um. A song would be nice…” she allowed. Oh. Was she afraid of the dark? He’d turned the light out without any warning and he’d be scared if he was her.

              Oh hell, he mostly had the sort of songs you sang while in the throws of drunkenness, not the sort of thing you sang to a little girl. First age appropriate song he could think of would work just fine he supposed, “The Maker loves me this I know, for the Chantry tells me so…” he offered up waveringly, he didn’t exactly have the gift of the bard.

              Oh but it was sweet when Ellie joined him, “…little ones to Him belong, they are weak but He is strong. Yes the Maker loves me, yes the Maker loves me, yes the Maker loves me, the Chantry tells me so.”

              Hopefully come morning, the Chantry would be the answer he was looking for. 

              He woke to sunlight breaking through the windowpane, Maker that was bright, right in his damn eyes. But he supposed it was time to get up then, he needed…hell, he needed lots of things. Ellie needed to eat, and then he’d have to see about getting her properly clothed, ask around, figure out how to get her safely in the custody of the Chantry-

              She was gone. Oh shit shit shit- she wasn’t in the bed and it took less than a second to assess she wasn’t anywhere else in the room, save maybe under? Dropped to his knees hard to check but no, she was gone, the door was wide open, oh hell!

              He bolted down the hall and pounded down the stairs at top speed-

              “Buenos dias, Mister Thom!” she greeted. Seated at the bar. Waving a little fork she had in her fist at him, sleeves of the shirt he lent her rolled up and safety pinned so they wouldn’t slop in the bowl of fruit she was digging into after waving to him. Russel was seated on the stool to her left, a smaller, empty bowl before him, and a tankard. Dana was behind the counter wiping it down and looking to him,

              “In a hurry?” she asked.

              He blew out a breath, relieved and, “I- good morning sweetheart,” he offered the girl before looking to the woman dishing up oatmeal a bowl. “I woke up and she was gone,” he said a bit pointedly. Maker, she’d given him a damn heart attack.

              “It’s ten in the morning, and she was awake when I checked in, hungry, and you were snoring away.”

              “I locked the door.”

              “Well good golly gosh, I wonder how a woman like me has the keys to this place? Oh wait,” she sniped, setting the bowl of oatmeal down firmly in the space on Ellie’s other side. “You’re welcome.”

              “Thank you, I am grateful,” he promised, just, tetchy. Little lightheaded—that’d ruddy terrified him. He wasn’t sure how every single horrible thing in the world could pass through one’s mind in a single instant, but when he saw the empty bed it had. Wait, “I’ll be right back,” he said before dashing back up the stairs. Potion—she should take her potion now that she’s eating, that’d been in the instructions Richard gave him.

              Ellie smiled up at him when he took a seat alongside her, “Miss Dana made me fruit!”

              “I can see that,” he said, returning her smile, “did you thank her?”

              “Uh-huh!” she nodded eagerly before stabbing another piece of melon to munch on.

              “Well, this little cutie has to be careful what she eats,” Dana said, tweaking the girl’s nose, startled her just a bit, but she also giggled at the affection so that was nice. “Saw you had things from Richard’s last night, figured I should make sure I didn’t offer something she couldn’t eat,” she said to Thom before looking to Ellie, "You want more water, baby girl?”

              “Yes please!”

              “On it. Mister Thom need anything to drink?” Dana checked.

              “Water’s fine, thank you,” he said, digging into his oatmeal. Huh, damn good. He felt badly she wasn’t going to let him pay… “My mother, you said this place would have closed down without her? What exactly does she do?” she…oh hell she didn’t work here or something, did she? He hadn’t considered that last night.

              Dana regarded him with some surprise that he wasn’t in the know. “Uh…she’s my accountant, has been since my husband passed and I’ve been running the place for myself. Got her own firm up on Park Street. You know, “Saving your money for Rainier days”?” no…no he did not. Was this woman confused? His mother couldn’t save a copper if her life depended on it. She sure as hell couldn’t when Liddy’s had. “Hell of a walk from her home downtown, s’why she crashes here sometimes when she works late hours, I insisted. It’s crazy she still lives down there but she refuses to move, and I didn’t want her risking just getting home in the middle of the night when who knows what is out there, you know? Bad enough she lives alone.”

              Thom snorted, alone huh? “I’m sure her boyfriends offer plenty of company.”

              “…boyfriends?” Dana questioned. “I’m sorry, you’re Thom, right? Thom Rainier? Champion of the Grand Tourney? Cause it sounds like we’re talking about two totally different Maggie Rainiers,”…were…were they? “I’ve been trying to set her up for years now and she won’t bite.”

              “What’s a Grand Tourney?” Ellie asked curiously as she speared another piece of fruit.

              …

              Well. She was only eight. And Antivan. But still.

              Thom filled her in on the highlights of what Tourney was, and it was the sweetest bit of pride he felt swelling in his chest when she looked so very impressed that he’d been declared a Champion of such a thing.

              And then she paled, turned almost white which was rather the feat, fork clattering against the bar top, eyes darting to the tavern’s front door before she ducked down under the counter a split second before it swung open.

              Heavy boots clunked against the hardwood as two fully armored Templars entered the Tavern, “You serving at this hour, wench?”

              Dana pushed off from the counter, “Guests that have stayed the night, yes. No liquor ‘til afternoon, gentlemen. Nothing for you here.”

              “Shame, could use a drink comin’ off the night shift,” the other Templar supposed, “Come on, Rivin’s’ll be serving,” he said clapping his friend on the shoulder and Thom realized he’d been holding his breath the entire time once they took their leave. Just- Maker, what in the hell?

              He got off his stool and crouched down, Ellie’s face was buried against her knees, arms wrapped around them as she just shook, the girl was trembling, “Sweetheart? It’s okay, it was just Templars. They weren’t here to hurt you.” He supposed their armor could be scary if you were very little, and Antiva didn’t have much in the way of Templars, maybe she’d never seen them before?

              “Are they gone?” she asked quietly.

              “Yeah honey, they’re gone.”

              “My Jim was afraid of Templars too, when he was a little thing, after he saw them take one of our neighbors older boys off to the Circle,” Dana said, as Thom helped Ellie back into her seat. “You’re okay sweetie, they’re only after Mages. You’re just a bit too little yet for that to be an issue huh?” she asked cheerily, “I’ll get you some more water hon.”

              Ellie was very quiet, nodding as the woman left them to refill her pitcher at the pump.

              “Hey, it’s okay,” Thom said soothingly, “You’re safe.”

              She swallowed, pulling Russel from his seat to hug him against her chest, nodding. She didn’t eat another bite, but she’d eaten well enough he supposed, it was an awful lot of food for one little girl and she shouldn’t over do it. He did get her to drink her potion, every last drop, and another mug of water.

              She was quiet as he retrieved his pack, and he thanked Dana for her service but they’d be on their way. The Barkeep did lend them some ribbon she had laying around to put up decorations when there were celebratory seasons, white one to cinch the waist of the nightshirt Ellie was in, the thing dragged the floor otherwise, when she walked. Almost looked like a dress now, cute. She put Russel in her own little pack, he’d been right, it was empty, and the bear fit perfect, head peeking out so he could ‘see’ as she toted him on her back.

              “Enjoy your visit,” Dana said, “bye-bye Ellie,” she waved.

              “Bye-bye Miss Dana,” she said quietly, “Thank you.”

              She let Thom take her hand again, this time it was truly necessary, the streets were busy this time of day. He wasn’t entirely sure where he should go. It was Sunday and he couldn’t imagine…Maker he couldn’t imagine his mother working period but especially not on a natural day off…that wasn’t entirely fair, most places were closed. So, he headed further uptown, hopefully she’d not be around, and he could find somewhere to get Ellie something to wear. Most of the shops were closed, but a few places resumed business once Chantry let out. Damn, he almost regretted sleeping in—taking Ellie for a service would’ve been nice, maybe a good step in the right direction to introducing her to the right people, but getting her something appropriate to wear might be better, make for better introductions ne-

              His brain almost said next week, like he’d just keep her until the next service and introduce her then. He- he wasn’t keeping her a week. Hell, if he could help it, he wouldn’t keep her the rest of today…though it was Sunday, the Mother’s might not take kindly to him disrupting them after service, so okay, tomorrow then, first thing. He’d go down, take Ellie to meet them. Monday’d be good, right? Though lots of people didn’t care for Mondays, were cranky, that might apply to clergy, he didn’t want the start of the week blues robbing Ellie of her chance to live someplace nice, safe. So…Tuesday. Maybe Monday, definitely Tuesday. Maybe Wednesday—there were night services then, show them she’s a sweet little Andrasten. Night services were late though…not too late right? Like around dinner time, they’d eat before hand or- or something. He’d figure it out. No later than Thursday or Friday because, you know, he’d introduce her Wednesday and maybe they need to sleep on it or something-

              He’d figure it out! Damn!

              They found a place, a shop for women’s clothing he almost felt embarrassed entering, but he’d a little girl! He wasn’t here to be a Peeping-Thom, there was hardly anything of interest for him here save some clothes for his girl- the girl.

              “Bonjour,” the woman behind the counter greeted politely as they approached.

              “Bonjour!” Ellie greeted in kind, “Comment vas-tu?”

              “Je vais bien,” the woman returned, sounding pleasantly surprised at- at the ruddy Ciriane just dropping from the girl’s lips! “Comment vas-tu, beaute?”

              Ellie blushed at that, hiding against Thom again. “Je vais bien. Merci!”

              “Uhh…” he knew the pleasantries they’d exchanged—how are you, I’m well, blah blah blah, but he wasn’t wildly imbued with Orlais’s mother-tongue. “Hi, sorry, is Trade okay? We’re here to get her some new clothes,” he explained.

              “Oui,” the woman said, “Trade is perfect for trade. I’m sure we can find something splendid for your little girl.”

              She wasn’t his little girl, but it was tiring to deny that at every turn, and he was less likely to come off like a total creep for saying otherwise, so he followed the shopkeeper as she gestured for them to follow her. There were some things already made up, and she’d a book of designs, swatches of fabric to choose from, it was all mind boggling.

              “We’re here to get clothes for me?” Ellie asked quietly, confused. “I- I don’t need-“

              “Of course you do,” Thom insisted. “You can hardly go around in your old things.”

              “B-b-but I- I don’t have any mon-“

              “I do,” he knelt to be more level with her. “Sweetheart, I’m the adult. You’re only a little girl, you aren’t expected to pay for things, not when you’ve got someone looking out for you. Right now, that’s me, so let me handle it, okay?” She frowned at that but nodded. “Good. Now uh…well, what’s your favorite color, Ellie-girl?” Damn.

              “Mmm, verde- er- vert,” she said to the shopkeeper, “green,” for Thom’s benefit.

              Huh. Well now he knew what his Commanding officer’d been calling him, partly anyway. “Like your eyes then?”

              Eyes that looked up at him real big and, “Ah, si?! My eyes are green?!”

              … “Well yeah, sweetheart,” he said, looking around, there was a tri-fold mirror near by and he gently tugged her along to stand in front of it, “See?”

              “Oh!” she chirped as their mirrored reflections came into view. She let go of his hand and went right up to her own image, poking herself in the cheek before reaching out to touch it, he offered an apologetic smile to the shopkeeper who paid it no mind, a child getting her fingers on her glass. Had she truly never seen herself in a mirror before? “Mister Thom, you’re right! They are green! Pretty!” she was pleased to announce.

              “Of course they are, you’re beautiful lovey, now come, let’s get something that suits?”

              He had to stop himself from going overboard, she was only staying with him for a day or five, and he wasn’t sure what all she could take with her to the Chantry, materialism and all that. But Maker, people wore lots of clothes, didn’t they? Socks with just a bit of lace around their hems, he got her two…three dresses, he couldn’t help it, the shopkeeper had her try on the damn things and something went off in his brain that almost made him buy the whole store. And a few shirts and dungarees for playing about in, he let the shopkeeper handle er, underthings. He wasn’t sure what she’d need, she was only eight, there wasn’t any shape to her, but Liddy’d hadn’t either, but mother had her start wearing training things for practice or something, he wasn’t sure, he just kept everything clean and helped her dress when she was too weak. He didn’t ask any questions, just left it up to Ellie and the woman assisting her, all he said was to make sure she had things for every day of the week. And then he got her a few night gowns, she wouldn’t be going out and about in them, getting them dirty, so two would do. Shoes—shoes were a must, a nicer pair for dressing up, little sandals, and shoes that would protect her feet but didn’t necessarily need to stay very nice, safe for running and play. He got her a bag, bigger, floral pattern, something she could put all of her things in when she moved to the Chantry, and a little purse. She might have things to carry! Now she had a purse to carry them in.

              And Russel got a nice little bowtie out of it, fashioned from some dark blue material with little white polka dots. It made Ellie smile, she thought it was adorable and he couldn’t just not do it! ...did she need bows? She did seem to think they were pretty. So uh...yeah, maybe he went ahead and asked the shopkeeper to throw in ribbons and bows that would uh, match her things. All of them, she might like to sleep with her hair braided or something...he needed to get her hair care things, that was next on the list then. Coconut oil...lots and lots of coconut oil.

              So, he racked up a chunk of change, but it was more than worth it. Ellie was left to her own devices in one of the changing rooms, with strict instruction to come meet him at the counter when she was finished dressing, to call if she needed help. The shopkeeper began tabulating the bill, absently asking,

              “If you leave your name and information, Monsieur, you can be subscribed to a newsletter. You would receive news of sales, updates on our seasonal hours, new inventory, and customer loyalty coupons…”

              “Thom Rainier-“ he stopped himself, he’d answered his name on reflex, when someone asked your name you usually gave it, right? “Er, I’m not interested in a um, newsletter.” He…wasn’t, it wasn’t like he’d be doing this ever again.

              “Rainier?” she asked, and then she smiled, “Oh! Are you Maggie’s Thom?”

              …”Yes?”

              “Oh my goodness!” that had her scratching out whatever she’d been writing down, “Oh I didn’t know she had a granddaughter! Oh she’s so beautiful! Sweet little thing, you’re raising her well, I swear she’s one of the best-behaved children I’ve had in my shop!” He shouldn’t feel proud to hear that, he’d hardly had a hand in it! “Maggie must be so proud—you’ll get the employee discount I offer her then. I’m Clarice, she helped me open up shop after I moved here!”

              “She did?”

              Clarice nodded. “I…I was in a bad situation. Marriage-wise, in Orlais, I fled to the Free Marches for my life. Your mother met me when I was staying in a shelter downtown, said she wished someone could have done the same for her when she was my age. She helped me get a working papers, deal with legal issues to secure a divorce, my claim to what my ex and I shared, and with that she helped me get a loan—it’s been seven years, I own every bit of my business and she still manages my books for me.”

              What ruddy planet was he on?

              “Congratulations,” he offered, that was an awful lot to overcome, “I’m glad my- my mother could help you.” Was she his mother? Maybe there were two physically separate Maggie Rainier’s running around Markham. It was a big city!

              Ellie had finished up apparently, letting the adults finish their conversation, he passed off the coin he owed and pocketed the receipt. Oh, she was wearing the light green cap-sleeved dress that fell to her knees, dotted with little white flowers, white bow that tied around the back and she asked him if he could help her, turned her back to him and he knelt, tying it as uh, symmetrically as he could manage, felt clumsy doing it. He felt more certain when she turned back around and shyly admitted she wasn’t able to figure out the clasps on her shoes—that was…easy enough, in that he knew how to do it, his fingers were a bit big to be fiddling around, threading the tiny hook through the proper hole on the strap. He was nervous he’d put them on too tightly but she assured him he hadn’t, which was a relief, he’d not wished a second attempt. He was glad to see her arms were free of bruising, Elf Root cream and a good night’s rest had cleared it up. Maker, she was just precious.

              And very very nervous as they left the shop. “Th-this is okay?” she asked, the hand he was holding was sweaty and trembling, he rubbed circles on the back of it with his thumb, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

              “Of course,” he promised.

              “W-w-what about- I mean can you take them back? I can leave them with you when I go-“

              “Honey. If you left right now, you’d be free to keep everything I just got you—everything you have? It’s yours, free and clear, no questions asked,” he assured. “Besides you need things. Come on, this way." He was certain there had to be some sort of personal care store near by.

              Her head bopped a bit as she thought and then, "Your mami helped that nice lady?"

              Ahh. Heard that, had she? "Apparently," Thom supposed. He still wouldn't be shell shocked if it was all some big misunderstanding.

              "Are you here to see her?" Ellie wondered.

              "Sometime, maybe."

              "Will I get to meet her?"

              ...no. Nope. Never. Maybe? "Would you want to?" he asked.

              Ellie nodded. "She sounds nice!"

              She did. Sound nice, at least. But he had all too many experiences that said with absolute certainty, she wasn't. So he wasn't exactly getting his hopes up.

              Ahh! Yes, he found a chandlers* and beautician's shop, which was...fairly pleasant given the place was full of fragrant candles and soaps, higher end perfumes, annnd...yes, thank the Maker. He was almost worried he'd just have to go to a grocers, he'd been hard pressed to find things to treat Liddy's hair. Of course, he'd not been doing his shopping, five-finger-discount or otherwise, in the upper part of the city, so.

               He found a good little tub of coconut oil, let Ellie smell it, oh Maker she seemed excited at the prospect that she might be in for washing up later, getting her hair seen to, it needed a good wash and conditioned badly. He found cleansers that wouldn't damage her hair type, proper conditioners...wash out and leave in both. He let her pick out whatever scent appealed to her most from the chandler's brightly colorful assortment of soapbars, they were all translucent and shiny, the girl was almost distracted by how pretty they were before she set about picking one out. The winner it seemed was one that smelled like fresh melon to him, so, he grabbed a few bars, she could always take these things with her, she'd use them. So that left...oh! Lotion, lotion was a must, Liddy'd get terribly ashy if she went without, her skin would itch so much it ached her. Ellie-girl liked this sort that smelled like vanilla and cinnamon...mostly just made him hungry- oh! Maker! It was nearly gone two, maybe that's why she was drawn to melon and dessert scented body care, the girl had to be famished.

               Thom hurried them along to the counter with their basket of goods, setting it before the cashier who steadily bagged everything in a floral cloth sack and tallied up their bill...well, he did, when he wasn't looking up to steal these very hard glances of Thom. He was a younger bloke...not too terribly young but Thom was hardly looking for someone, oh Maker, he hoped Ellie wasn't about to witness the horror show that was adult flirtation.

              "I'm sorry, but you just- you look so familiar," the young man said as he looked up from his work, "but I'm pretty sure I'd remember you if you'd shopped here before."

              "Haven't been to Markham in over a decade, son."

              "Is your last name Rainier by any chance?"

              "...yes?"

              He brightened at that, "Oh my god! Shut up! Are you related to Professor Rainier?"

              "Uhh..."

              "You so are! Oh my god, you look so much like her with the hair, and the eyes! Okay, I'm actually jealous and I hate you, is she not like, the most amazing mom? I would kill for that woman I swear- I took her intro to econ class last semester-"

              Most amazing mom almost sounded as foreign to him as, "Intro to econ?" what was happening?

              "Introduction to Economics? At Markham University*? I swear I want to be her when I grow up. She takes literally zero crap, and she just really, really cares about her students, like she made so many allowances for me last year it was insane. My parents weren't exactly down with the whole 'being into guys' thing, and when they found out I was dating my boyfriend they pulled my tuition, so Maggie gave me a spot as an assistant TA, and helped me find scholarships, hooked me up with this gig because she like, balances Mister Crawford's books or whatever—I make minimum wage and get all the free bars soap I want, and sweetheart," he turned his attention to Ellie, "this melon soap, I live for it. You made like, the best life choice," he assured her as she giggled at his commendations before he haphazardly jumped back into, "Professor Rainier like really went to battle for me with the school board so I could keep my spot. She even let me stay at her place until I could work out living arrangements for myself, and even though I haven't had any classes with her this semester she still checks in on me and takes me to lunch on campus at least once a week."

              ...Thom wasn't certain what to do with even half of that. "I'm glad she uh, helped you out."

              "Are you in town to see her? You should totally come to lunch with us this week, have you seen campus? It's pretty dead this time of year, but summer classes are in session so everything's open. Oh my god, your daughter would totally love this little kids program they have at the main library in the summers where people volunteer to read at storytime, there's great snacks and there's always like some kind of little craft activity that goes along with whatever book they read? My boyfriend helps organize it and it's just a total blast."

              He...he was not sad that taking Ellie to such a thing was likely not in the cards. He was going to find her a good, safe place to live, and...and that was that! And he definitely wasn't having lunch with his mother. Or this other Maggie Rainier, whoever the hell she was. No way in hell his mother was a professor she barely had the cognizance to string together an ineligible sentence half the time he knew her. "I appreciate the information but we really do need to get going—better get some lunch in the little one before she tries to eat your soap."

              "I just licked the one!" Ellie defended.

              Maker help him he hadn't seen that, "Uh...did you put it in the basket, Ellie-girl?"

              She nodded, "It would be rude to lick it and leave it."

              ...he supposed that much was true. 

              Okay. Enough nonsense. Lunch time. They stopped at this little café with an outdoor seating area, Thom helped her into a cushioned metal chair, the girl let out a little giggly squeak when he pushed her chair in so she could reach the table, and he set their shopping in a chair away from the street, and Russel sat on guard in front of it. Thom took a seat across from the girl and a waiter came to offer them menus.

              “Good afternoon sir, miss, what can I get you to drink?”

              “Water for me,” he said, scanning the little drink menu propped up in the center of the table, “They’ve got fruit juice, apple, orange, grape…” he listed off.

              “What’ll it be for the pretty lady?” the waiter asked.

              He was pretty sure Ellie was swinging her legs, torso swaying to and fro as her head bopped side to side thinking it over. “Can I have apple juice, please?”

              “Of course,” the waiter said, “I’ll give you a minute to look over the menu, and be right back with your drinks.”

              Thom nodded and started looking over the menu himself, Ellie took hers up and…well, she followed the letter of what the waiter had said—she looked it over, quickly, up and down the font, flipped it over, up and down the back, and then set it back down.

              “Do you uh, have an idea of what you want already, sweetheart?” he asked, maybe she’d spotted something she was familiar with or something?

              “What do they have?” she asked. “I like bread.”

              …well that was good, he was pretty sure they served bread before hand, but…oh, she was awful young, but he’d learned to read when he was five, maybe six? He’d had to teach Liddy when she got that age. Just how long had she been on her own? “Well, lets see,” he scanned the menu quickly, discounting any foods he was certain a child would find gross, no snails or livers, or any other strange animal parts. “Are you allergic to anything, do you know?”

              She smiled, shaking her head ‘no’, “I’m not allergic to anything, Ava made sure!”

              “Did she?”

              “Uh-huh, she’s a Healer like Senor Richard!” she said.

              That was relieving to hear, that the girl had someone she knew she could go to.

              When their waiter came back around, he had their drinks, popping a little bending straw into Ellie’s so she didn’t have to run the risk of spilling, and Thom ordered their meals—roast beef sandwich for him, chicken sandwich for her…she looked at him like he’d grown a second head when he asked if there was anything she’d prefer not be on it, he uh…got that. It being wild that she could be so picky as to turn down food. She didn’t ask for anything to be left off, he supposed anything ‘yucky’ could be picked off. Order of Ferelden-style chips for each of them, popular things, you could dip them in this tomato paste, he’d go through buckets of the things with his friends in Orlais.

              Alright. They were at a table now, so.

              “Sweetheart, how long, exactly, have you been on your own? Out of the er, orphanage?”

              She gave it a bit of thought. “Hmm…I was five so…” she splayed eight fingers, closing the three digits on her right hand one by one, “three years?”

              Ahh. Well then, it was little surprise she didn’t know how to read. “Honey, this isn’t any way for a little girl like you to live. It’s so dangerous out there,” Maker, the number of horrible fates she could face turned him off his lunch if he thought about it, “moving around so much, all on your own so often. I know you had a bad experience with the orphanage, but I’d like to try and get you something secure, a roof over your head, where you’d never go hungry, have medical care if you needed it, access to education—I was speaking to Richard and he says the Chantry takes excellent care of the children they take in-“

              Oh Maker, she looked at him like he’d said he thought he found a nice volcano to drop her in, she’d plenty safe there, yeah? Pale and panicked, immediately shaking her head ‘no’, “No no no! N-n-n-no Ch-chantry!”

              He reached across the table just to motion for her to lower her voice, “Shh shh shh, hey, okay, okay, calm down. Sweetheart I- I didn’t mean to upset you. But why ever not, the Chantry? Honey, you’d be safe, they’d take care of you, I’d…” was she getting attached to him? Him? Surely not but still he… “I’d even visit, if you’d like. Just, drop by and make sure they’re taking good care of you.”

              “No Chantry,” she insisted, quieter, but just as firm. “I can’t. I can’t stay. I can’t go to the Chantry. You’re very nice, and you’ve done so much for me—you can have everything back and I’ll just-“

              “Ellie. I need a why, why can’t you stay, or go to the Chantry, you’re Andrasten, right?” he asked. Oh. Oh she was Antivan, “Honey, you’re just a little kid. If the Chantry accepts you, you’ll be given Marcher citizenship, you don’t have to-“

              “They won’t take me!” she insisted, “Even if they do, they- someday they will send me away, someplace bad. Really really bad.”

              “Where would they send you?”

              Her chin quivered, oh Maker, he hadn’t meant to make her cry. “Ellie, I promise, I would never let anyone hurt you. If I came back and found out they’d sent you someplace, I’d come and find you-“ she shook her head ‘no’, “Okay, okay. I’m- I’m sorry I brought it up. It was just a suggestion, honest, I didn’t mean to upset you. I just…I want what’s best for you.”

              “It’s best if- if I don’t stay too long. That’s what’s best for me.”

              He let it drop, at least for now. She was quiet as they ate—she ate every last bite of what was offered her, downed a glass of apple juice, a few glasses of water. Last of her chips though, she swiped a huge glop of ketchup on and dropped into her lap.

              “I’m so so sorry-!”

              “Oh Ellie-girl, hush, it’s not a big deal,” he assured, “Let’s wipe that up as best we can—it can be cleaned, look good as new.” She nodded at that.

              “Um…would it be okay if I changed?” she asked. Well the way she was staring at him, so very hopeful, she could do anything she liked he supposed, certainly something as obvious as wanting to change into clean clothes, not walk around with a stain on her dress.

              “Of course.”

              She picked some clothing out of their shopping, dungarees, a shirt, and her sandals. She used her beat up little pack to carry them in, and then Thom waved over a nice waitress to ask if she’d show Ellie to the little girl’s room.

              “Of course, oh. Poor thing, you made a little mess, huh?” the woman sympathized.

              Ellie nodded, she was up out of her seat, and she came to Thom and he leaned forward thinking she’d something to say- well Maker, she hugged him around the neck, “Thank you,” she said.

              “Of course sweetheart. I’ll be waiting when you’re done.”

              She nodded at that, turned to the seat Russel was in, and hugged the bear tight in farewell, and then she took the waitresses hand, and they disappeared into the restaurant proper.

              He sighed, waiting patiently. He decided to looked over the dessert menu, find something that might cheer her up, Maker, he still felt badly for having upset her so much. She…clearly had issues. With trust, and authority. He wasn’t sure what to say that might convince her to stay, that she didn’t have to keep run-

              The waitress was taking the order of a table just inside the door when he rushed into the restaurant, “Just a moment-“

              “Is she still in the restroom?” he asked, “did you see her leave?”

              “N-no, I mean yes she’s in the restroom, I haven’t seen her come out-“

              “I’m sorry,” an elder woman said as she approached, “I was just going to get the manager, but did I hear you asking about leaving something in the restroom?”

              “Yes,” he said quickly, well, sort of, he meant someone leaving the restroom full stop, “Did you see a little girl, yea high, dark skin, red hair-“

              “Oh honey I didn’t see who it was—I was just in there and there’s this little back pack left with a little girl's dress and socks in it-“

              Thom bolted for the restroom, the door hanging open and the window, the damn window was wide open, a lidded trash bin had been scooted to sit under it’s edge, a little handprint still splayed on the top of the metal lid from where she’d climbed-

              Damn it! Damn it, she was good, she- oh, she could be lost, she could be in danger, he had to find her, had to make this right!

              “You!” he called to the waitress who’d followed him when he ran, “My girls missing, I have to go get her, you watch our things, I’ll be back for them.”

              “Oh my god, I’ll call the guards-“

              “I’ve got it, you just watch our things!”

              He wasn’t ruddy going to the guards. Not yet anyway—those bastards wouldn’t even look for her until she’d been proper missing, at least a day, sometimes two. Besides, she couldn’t have gotten far.

              The window Ellie had to climb to get through, Thom got through just fine, he could step over and swing his other leg through, and then he looked, little footprints in the dirt leading left—away from the main street, deeper into the alley, smart if you were trying to avoid getting caught but bloody stupid if you didn’t want to- anyone could be out there!

              “Ellie!” wait, shit, she was running from him- he- he had to catch her, catch up to her and try to talk her into coming back with him, oh Maker, he’d bungled this all to hell.

              “…s a sweet little thing like you doin’ out here all on your own?” a man’s voice, lecherous, had Thom’s heart pounding in his ears, feet slamming the pavement trying to move faster, especially when he heard a sweet little voice insisting in hard tones,

              “No hablas Trade. No moneys.” That was smart, playing dumb...had she been doing that at all with him? Her Trade improved with him during the day, but she did genuinely struggle from time to time. Good to see she ran into these men and immediately didn't trust them at all.

              “No money? Figures. Won’t be too hard to turn a profi-“

              “You get the hell away from her!” Thom shouted with all the air in his lungs as he caught up Ellie was cornered, looked like one man had come up from in front of her, the other from behind to stop her in the middle of an alley way, Maker’s breath. “Sweetheart, you can’t just run off like that—she’s with me, back off, now.”

              The man that’d addressed her looked to him, snorted. “She don’t look like you, definitely don’t talk like you, unless you banged some sweet mamacita and her brat just turned up—she ain’t yours. Mind your business, we’re good here.”

              “No, we aren’t good here,” Thom seethed. “Ellie. Come here, to me, now. If either of you lay a hand on her, you’re dead.”

              Well. He’d warned them.

              Elile’d taken a tentative step forward only to flinch when the other man put his hand on her shoulder to halt her, shoved her harshly into the wall-

              He might actually kill them, he was pretty sure he was having an out of body experience, he somehow felt like he was blacking out, and capable of seeing himself rush that man, and put a fist in his stomach, right in the liver, had him down in the blink of an eye.

              And then he heard the shing of a blade. And Ellie screamed.

              He whipped around, ready to face the other man, and was met with solid contact, low, the man made to stab him would’ve got him right in the kidneys if- well he wasn’t sure why he didn’t have a knife in his guts-

              Something cool, and magical cast over him, he almost didn’t perceive it it was so very light, but it happened in the split second before he felt the pressure of contact from the man and his blade hitting him, but none of the pain, no damage done. Barrier. S-some one-

              But- but she was just a kid*.

              They’ll send me away to someplace bad. Really really bad.

              Apparently someplace really really bad, would be Ansburg*. 

              He quickly maneuvered the knife out of the man’s hand to his surprise, “You get the hell out of here,” Thom threatened, brandishing the blade in his direction, praying to everything he hadn’t seen something.

              “Shit, shit- okay man, okay,” seriously? He was cowering all of a sudden just because he’d lost a blade? It wasn’t like he didn’t have a solid two hundred pounds behind that blade. Of course, he was hardly complaining, “Come on, man come on!” he yelled at his friend, hauling him up by the collar of his shirt and running in the opposite direction.

              He…he wasn’t entirely certain what to do. Blade had no sheath now, and he didn’t need it, so he dropped it. Turned to look to Ellie. Oh, she was curled in on herself, face buried in her knees, shaking with sobs. He knelt to be level with her.

              “Sweetheart, are you hurt?”

              She sniffled a few times, looking up at him, “Ar-re you?”

              “No. Thank you,” he supposed, clearing his throat. He…oh hell. He got… “So. You’re trying to stay out of a Circle. Templars earlier, you thought they were there for you.”

              Her expression crumbled at that, and she cried harder, nodding. “I’m s-s-s-s-“

              He didn’t need her sorrys. “How long have you known?” she held up her hand, three digits. Three years- so. That was why she’d been kicked out of the Orphanage, Maker she was so young to be presenting magic, they’d…they’d hurt her badly, it sounded like. Hadn’t called the Templars just- oh Maker, they probably beat on her until they thought she was dead- “Alright,” he said. “Come on. Waitress is keeping Russel and your things safe.”

              “You can take them, pl-please just let me go-“

              “I’m not holding you captive girl. I’m not turning you in. You can’t stay with anyone because they don’t know you’re a mage. When they find out, they uh, react bad, try to turn you over to Templars, hurt you?” she nodded. “Well. That stops here. I know now. And I would never hurt you Ellie.”

              “You still want me to go to the Chantry-“ she was guessing.

              “No. I want you to go with me,” he…he found himself saying. Oh Maker, Maker he was crazy. And screwed, and a fool but, “From now on, however long you’d like to stay, you have a place with me.”

              She sniffled, and he was startled by this sudden gasping she did- in and out real fast, like she was trying hard to catch her breath but couldn’t, but she got it after a few seconds, and wiped at her nose with back of her hand. “R-r-really?”

              “Really," he affirmed. "Come on sweetheart. Let’s go get Russel, okay? I’m sure he misses you.”

              “I miss him too I-“ her chin quivered and then he was startled again—her arms around his neck for a second time, and another, “Thank you.” This time he wasn’t too worried she was about to skip out on him again. He wrapped his arms around her and she didn’t offer up any protest, so he stood, started the walk back through…well, he’d find it. Hit the main road, work his way back to the café.

              “Oh! Oh my goodness, oh my gosh!” the waitress worried the second she saw them, she’d been waiting out front of the restaurant, standing guard over their things, “Oh my god, oh my god is she okay?!”

              “She’s alright, this is uh, all very new, she’s just coming to live with me and got a little bit overwhelmed, it’s okay,” he assured, rubbing circles on Ellie’s back and she buried her face against the crook of his neck, sniffling a bit. He took up Russel and handed him to her, held her secure with one arm so she could take hold of the bear and hug him to herself with an arm while keeping the other wrapped around his neck. Waitress had put her tattered pack with the clothing she’d abandoned in the restroom, into the bag with the rest of her new things, so he took that up, slung it over his free shoulder, “Thanks, uhh…” shit, he still- they’d had a meal he needed to pay for.

              “Oh thank the Maker,” the waiter that had served them breathed as he joined them, “She’s alright?”

              “She’s fine. Thank you, I’m so sorry about everything—how much do I owe-“

              “Don’t even worry about it, it’s already been covered. That woman over there paid your bill the minute you went after your little girl,” he said, pointing to the elder woman from before, she looked over and saw them, raising her hand to wave as the waiter said, “we’re all just glad she’s safe.”

              Thom approached the older woman, offered to pay her back but she wouldn’t hear of it. “Absolutely not. I’m glad you found her—you shouldn’t scare your father like that, sweetie.”

              “I’m really sorry,” Ellie offered sincerely, but quiet, exhausted.

              “That’s a good girl. You mind your father and stay safe.” Though she wondered, “What’s your name, sweetie?”

              Ellie was still sniffling, had to coughing quietly to clear her throat so he said, “This is Ellie, I’m Thom,” he introduced himself, feeling badly he couldn’t offer her a hand or something but he wasn’t putting Ellie down anytime soon. “Thom Rainier.”

              And once more, “Oh my word, Maggie’s Thom?” the woman asked with delighted surprise.

              “Yes,” he said. "You know her?"

              “I was supposed to meet her here for lunch, I’m Agatha, Maggie’s a dear, dear friend of mine! She usually takes Sundays off, but she got a message from a client with an emergency so she cancelled, headed straight for the office—you know the place, just up the street? 116 Park."

              He...he supposed he was in luck, then.

              "Thank you very much, have a good day," he wished her.

              "You too, take care!"

              "Where're we going?" Ellie asked softly.

              He needed...he needed help. Maybe, somehow, someway, help would for once in his life, be synonymous with, "We're going to meet my mother."

              116 Park, 116 Park come on come on come on, that woman said right up the street, but it didn’t feel close enough and that…Maker, in what world did he go running to his mother for help? But maybe…maybe she could.

              Please. Maker please don’t let this be a mistake, some horrible, twisted misunderstanding.

              “I’m really really sorry,” Ellie mumbled miserably into his neck.

              “Shhh hush Ellie-girl, it’s all gonna be okay,” he promised, oh, he winced when she whimpered as he jostled her a bit, he only had the one arm around her and she’d been slipping. “Sorry honey, we’re almost there.”

              They were—thank the Maker, 116 Park Street was…well shit it was a nice building, pale grey stone, a white wooden door with a large plane of glass with a Andrasten sigil emblazon in it in silver he- was this really the right place?

              Maybe it wasn’t…maybe it was in the most unfortunate sense. There was a woman just approaching the entry way, taking her leave that looked every bit of the woman that screamed in his face, took him by the ear and cast him into the street—gangly limbed, pencil thin, graying hair a wild mess, and jonesing something bad, pallid and sweating. A tall, younger woman was walking alongside her, arm wrapped around her shoulders, and Thom stepped back from the door so it could swing open,

              “Maggie Rainier?” he asked.

              “I’m sorry, who are you?” the younger woman questioned him.

              “Thom Rainier, I was told this is her office but-“

              “Oh! I thought you looked familiar—she has your portrait on her desk. She’s just inside finishing up some paperwork, go on in, here, I’ll hold the door,” she offered, leading the woman out and standing aside, letting them through.

              “Th-thank you,” Thom breathed, he wasn’t sure if it was to her, or the Maker. Probably both.

              He felt clumsy, booted feet clunking heavy on the shiny hardwood floors, even more when the only thing he could think to call to figure out just where the hell this supposed woman was, was,

              “Mom!” poured up from his throat, loud, and urgent.

              “State yourself, I will call the guard-“ was what got shouted back by a woman who came stomping out of the room at the end of the hall, armed with a- with a ruddy crowbar.

              And…and wearing sky blue pantsuit over a immaculate white blouse, matching blue high heels clicking on the floorboards, graying raven hair carefully coiffed and tucked into a bun at the back of her head, blue eyes clear and shiny as he’d ever seen them. Just- had she somehow gotten younger? Aged in reverse? She’d lines of age around her eyes but her skin was plump and smooth, rosy cheeked, pallid but not in a way that was unhealthy, once upon a time it’ been haggard and almost yellow-ish grey.

              And now her eyes were wide, she jumped when her crowbar clattered to the floor as it slipped from her hand.

              “Th-Thom?”

              “Yeah. Yeah it’s me.”

              She looked like she might cry and then she moved forward like she intended to hug him but stopped herself, splaying her hands low as if instilling some self-restraint before she looked to him, and then a little lower to the girl cradled against him, “Who is this?”

              “This is Ellie, can…can we sit?”

              “Of course, just a moment um. Here,” she moved to the door on the wall to his right and pushed open the double doors to reveal a…well a sitting room would do for sitting, he supposed. “Please, make yourselves at home—I’ll be right back,” she promised.

              Thom let out a sigh that just barely covered the relief he felt…and the surprise…and-

              Was he going into shock? He was pretty sure he was going into shock. He couldn’t feel his hands, his heart was pounding in his chest and he wasn’t sure if he needed to sit down or throw up.

              The sitting room was nice, had a rather large plush Orlesian rug that covered most of the floorspace…so, he should probably try just sitting down first.

              He put the bag of clothing down in a chair and then he- he’d meant to sit on the couch but he found himself kneeling before it to set Ellie down,

              “It’s okay honey, we’re safe here, everything’s okay shhh, Russel’s gonna sit with you, and I’ll be right at your side if you let go, okay? Ellie?” oh hell, it wasn’t that she wasn’t letting go, she was completely lax in his hold, when he leaned her back her head snapped straight back, head lolling against the back of the couch, oh Maker, “Ellie? Come on baby girl, please-“

              “Sorry, I had to lock up. What’s the matter?” M-mother asked as she came back into the room, kneeling at Thom’s side, “Okay, let’s see here, what happened exactly?”

              He wasn’t even sure where to start but his brain was still functioning on some level, he didn’t know what to do, but- he explained that they’d gotten separated, the thing that barely passed as a fight, Ellie getting knocked into a wall.

              Maggie Rainier nodded, hands on either side of Ellie’s face, “Ellie, yes?” she checked with him and when he nodded, she moved the girl so she was laying flat on her back on the couch, "Be a dear and prop her legs up," she instructed, and Thom tucked a few couch pillows under her knees as his mother put her hands to Ellie's temples, massaging a bit, “Ellie, honey, we need you to open your eyes, can you do that for me sweetheart? Ohh there’s a good girl,” she breathed as her eyes blinked open, she looked a little confused, dazed. “Hi, honey you took a little bump to the head. Does it hurt at all?”

              “Mm-hmm,” she confirmed, face scrunching up as she winced.

              “Okay, do you feel light headed? We're going to try sitting up now, take it slow,” Maggie said, helping the girl sit up and lean forward while the older woman examined the back of her head, “Ooh honey, yeah you’ve got a nasty little bump here. It’s okay—Thom, my office is just across the hall, there’s an emergency medical kit in my top left desk drawer.”

              He just did what he was told though the moment he had the medical kit in hand he remembered he had some things from their Healers visit last night and- oh. oh there was a small portrait of him on her desk…an almost current one, one he’d had to pose for a few years back when he made Captain in the Orlesian military, they were public record and loved ones could request them so…huh, he just ever thought she’d do something like that. And he passed the framed news article on his Tourney victories hanging just in the office doorway on his way out which was…helpful, more proof positive this was real and not the Maker’s most elaborate, sick joke.

              When he came back, Ellie’s dungarees were rolled up to just above her knees, she must have fallen before Thom caught up with her, the skin on her knee caps scraped and bruising…bleeding, oh Maker, she was a- she was a Mage, what if-

              He was more distracted by the fact Maggie Rainier was kneeling before her, making play with Russel the bear, offering the girl distraction with a smile and a silly voice eliciting a little giggle from the child.

              “Ahh, good, bring that here and we’ll get this all cleaned up,” she said, she’d…huh there had been a washbasin on the far side of the room, she’d brought over the bowl and clean towels, had clearly already cleaned the girl’s knees and now she dug out bandaging and Elf Root tonic, took a cotton pad and doused it in tonic, wielding it in one hand while she held up Russel in the other, shaking him before Ellie’s eyes, humming a little song while she carefully treated the girl’s injuries, broken skin mending in her wake. “Excellent job sweetheart, you’re being so good for me! Such a brave big girl,” his mother encouraged. “Now, if you’ll hold Russel and turn around for me, I’d like to take a look at the bump on your head, okay?”

              Ellie nodded, tucking her legs up and turning about on the couch so her back was to them, there was another little scrape on the back of her right elbow, and one just below her hair line on the back of her neck where she’d hit a brick wall, mother had those cleaned and treated quickly, like she’d had a great deal of practice, and then she examined the back of Ellie’s head, “Ooh honey, ouch. Does your head ache at all, dear?”

              “Uh-huh, a little,” Ellie admitted.

              “Okay, well, lets see…”

              Thom cleared his throat, “We have Elf Root cream if that would work best on the er, bump,” Maker there was a knot the size of his fist on the back of her head.

              “That’s perfect,” his mother said, “you go ahead and apply some directly, and I’ll see if I can remember the right dosage…sweetie do you know how much you weigh?” she asked.

              They'd need to get her in to a Healers for a check up or something sometime, Richard had been a great help but he hadn't given her a full blown physical or anything. Thom spoke quietly, “I’d say maybe thirty-five, forty pounds?”

              His mother nodded, “Alright, I’ll be right back—do you like juice sweetheart? I’ve got some apple juice in the kitchen.”

              Ellie nodded shyly, “I like it lots,” she said.

              Maggie let out a happy sounding gasp of surprise, “Me too!” she said, sharing conspiratorially, “It’s my favorite,” earning a little smile from the girl, “I’ll be right back.”

              Thom plied cream to the bump on the back of Ellie’s head as gently as humanly possible, Maker. He hadn’t been entirely sure what Ellie’s weight had to do with juice drinking, but when Maggie returned, his mother had a glass of juice, a small wooden teacup, and a teaspoon. She used the teaspoon to measure out an appropriate dose of Elf Root tonic for someone Ellie’s size, mixing it into the juice before seating herself on the couch alongside Ellie and offering her the beverage, “There’s a little bit of Elf Root in it, it should clear up your headache, alright honey?”

              “Gracias,” Ellie offered sweetly as she turned to sit facing the woman, and when Thom sat on the girl’s other side he…well he didn’t dislike that the girl leaned back against him, relaxing a bit as she sipped at her drink.

              Maggie nodded, “De nada,” she replied in kind, taking up the wooden tea cup and ‘handing it’ to Russel, it sat in front of the stuffed bear for his consumption. And then she looked to Thom, “You’re not hurt, are you hun?”

              “I’m just fine,” he assured. Exhausted now, not entirely sure where to even begin moving forward, or what he should be doing, or how to cope with even half of the things that were going on in his life at the moment.

              “You're Thom's mami?” Ellie asked before sipping at her drink some more. Maggie nodded and the girl smiled, "You're very pretty and nice!"

              “You are very pretty and nice as well,” the woman complimented warmly.

              “You uh…you look well,” Thom said. Yeah, she was even pretty.

              She smiled at that, “Thank you. I’ve been...well,” clean he supposed, she meant, “for almost fifteen years now.”

              Fifteen…Maker, really? “Wow that…that’s really great,” he said.

              “How did you know where to find me?” she wondered.

              “Your friend, Agatha? Ellie-girl and me, we were having lunch at this little Café up the street, she helped us out and um…well when I gave her my name, she said you’d cancelled your plans with her to meet with a client, some sort of emergency? That um…those women, they’re clients?”

              “One of them, yes, Lainey, she's a music instructor for a local private school. We all go to the same meetings. Lainey sponsors the woman she was with—Willa, she needed to go to a meeting spur of the moment, but Lainey was caught in the middle of running a Children’s Chantry service so she sent word to me asking if I could sit with Willa until she could meet us here.”

              “She didn’t look like she felt very good,” Ellie worried.

              “She doesn’t, but she’ll be okay,” Maggie assured her, “How are you feeling?”

              “Lots better, thank you,” she said, yawning quietly into her hand.

              “You know, I get some of the best sleep on this couch? It’s very comfortable—I have blankets and pillows, and Mister Russel looks awfully sleepy to me. I’m sure he’ d love to take a nap with you,” Maggie said, enticing the girl. And him, forget Russel, Thom needed a damn nap!

              Ellie nodded, agreeing to a nap, but she turned around and hugged Thom tightly when Maggie got up to fetch pillows and blankets, “You’ll stay?”

              “Of course, I’ll be right here when you wake up, I won’t leave without you," he promised. "Ellie, why didn't you tell me you were hurt?" she'd deflected it when he asked her before, he realized.

              "I...I didn't want to sc-scare you. Being a mage and um, bleeding."

              "Well you'll find I'm hard to scare," he offered. He'd been wholly terrified several times in the last 24 hours, but usually...usually much didn't scare him. "Honey, if...I'm going to take care of you now. So I need you to be honest with me, come to me whenever you're hurt or in trouble, and let me help you. Alright?"

              She nodded. "Al...alright."

              "So you're okay now? After bleeding?”

              “Uh-huh,” she assured as if it wasn’t any big deal. “Oh! Um…demons don’t bother me? I mean if I am hurt badly they might come, but they don’t have anything I want. Ava um…she’s like me? She’s trained me. I would never ever let one in, promise. Help from demons isn't help, they're always going to give you something that will bring you right back to them for more, so...anything they have to offer is useless,” she shrugged.

              Well…she did seem to have a track record of injury, and she hadn’t been demon possessed so far. He didn’t know very much about it…that would have to change, obviously. He didn’t know much about anything. Healer said she wasn’t in any of the healthy growth percentiles, he didn’t even know what a percentile was! How big did she need to be? How did he make that happen? What did kids eat? What was healthy? She wasn’t allergic to anything…she didn’t know how to read! Could she go to school? Was that safe? Should he get her a tutor? Tutors? Oh, did she need more clothing—he should’ve signed up for that damn newsletter!

               Oh Maker, they needed a place to live! He couldn't keep schlepping her along to a different inn every night. Uhhh a house? An apartment? Where? Markham? What was even happening?

              What was he going to tell Cyril?! Hey love, how ya doin’? Long time no see in about a week, anyway I’m settling down with my brand new Mage daughter I’ve known all of a day? Love you?

              Huh. His uh…his daughter, was that what she’d be? Nooo. He- he wasn’t a father. He was just…a man, who chose to take charge in the care and well being of a small Human child. Yeah.

              Mother brought a pillow for the girl, and Thom got up so she could lay down with Russel tucked up under her chin, and Thom took the blanket the woman offered, and knelt, covering her up, “Sleep well sweetheart. Let me know if you need anything okay?” he took hold of her hand, rubbing circles with his thumb, “I’m right here, and I’ll be here when you wake up. You’re safe, and no one is going to hurt you.” And he uh…well he hummed a bit, just- she needed a song to fall asleep last night, he thought it might help her now.

              “Well, I could use some coffee. Would you care for a cup, honey?” Maggie asked him, her hand on his shoulder.

              That uh…yeah, some caffeine might help. “Please.” She nodded and moved like she was preparing to clean up after the mess they’d made of medical supplies and the water basin, but, “I’ll get it, you go on ahead.”

              She left him to his own devices and he did his best, putting the bowl back on it’s stand and looking about—in the basin stand’s cabinet there were more clean towels and a little hamper he could toss the ones they used. Packed up the medical kit, put the jar back into his bag of Ellie’s things and then he ran the kit back to his mother’s office…Maker she had a damn office. She…she seemed like a collected, calm, normal Human being. Oh...oh wow. There was something he'd missed before, in her office, hanging right over the mantle of her fireplace. A goddamn degree. Three of 'em! All from the University of Markham, bachelors degrees for Margret Lydia Rainier one in accounting the other in...in law. Oh hell, there- she had a ruddy Masters in Entrepreneurship.

              Holy hell. She was...she was smart. And...capable. And he needed at least a week to even begin processing this. He- before she reached out to him, half the time he just told himself she died in a gutter somewhere. Her still being alive hadn't painted any better pictures for him, he figured she was just alive in a gutter, wanting him to come home with whatever money he'd made and either guilt him out of it or run him through and take it to blow on her next high. This was wildly, wildly different, never in his craziest fever dreams would he even begin to imagine she'd have the sort of life she was leading.

              The kitchen branched off of the sitting room, he had to pass back through it to get there, might have taken a minute just to make sure the girl was still sleeping alright, adjusted the blanket where she’d kicked it a bit off of her feet…

              He lost her damn sandals. They’d fallen off somewhere, at some point, but uh, at least she had plenty of socks and more shoes.

              He’d get her some with the little straps on the back, they’d fit more secure...maybe a few pairs, they were cute on her and he was apparently entitled to his mother's employee's discount. So.

              Mother was just pulling the kettle off the stove when he entered the kitchen, moving to pour two piping hot mugs, handing him one before setting the kettle aside and taking up her own and sipping at it, so, he followed suit.

              “…so,” she said.

              “…so,” he offered in kind. "University of Markham, huh?"

              She blushed, nodding. "Uh-huh. I um...a few months after you left I bottomed out, hard," she started to explain.

              "After I left?' he asked bitingly. She...she looked surprised at that.

              "Honey, I'm not blaming you. Roles reversed, I would have run away too-"

              "I didn't run away!" sleeping child in the next room you dolt! He cleared his throat, lowering his voice, "You kicked me out."

              She stared at him, wide eyed, "I- I did-? Oh..." she took a deep breath, gripping the warm mug in her hands more tightly. "Thom I- oh Maker. I was so sick, sweetheart I- I believe you, but I...oh honey I swear, I really don't remember. After Liddy passed I- I barely remember anything that happened in that time. I ended up in jail, when I sent for you to come bail me out and you didn't show, I ended up serving some time in prison and I er...sobered up. Got into a program that I kept up with once I was out- I came home and I thought- I wasn't sure what to think, I asked after you, you were still alive, on your own but I figured...I figured it was best for you, being no where near me while I was still figuring out my own sh- er, baggage. I didn't realize you were staying away because I'd kicked you out, I thought you'd finally gotten sick of me, I didn't want to dare try contacting you until I was someone worth your time."

              She...had been pretty wild, out of her mind when she kicked him out. He'd thought she might be about to kill him truth be told. He cleared his throat, "You got into a program you said?"

              She nodded. "I'm Maggie and I'm an addict," she offered up with a rueful grin. "Started going to meetings in prison, kept it up once I was out. There's a few different meetings I go to every week, one of them is downtown where a Professor from the University attends for discretion, he'd prefer not running the risk of running into one of his students. He was friends with my sponsor, and heard I was having a hard time finding work and he let me know there were openings for cleaning staff at the University...all University employees are offered free education if they care to pursue it, not everyone does, but I did. Eventually I went from cleaning lady to teachers assistant, to adjunct professor—I still hold that position, teaching classes a few evenings a week. I started taking accounting clients when I was still in school, Dana was my first, she let me balance her books for practice, experience. I just hung my shingle maybe a month before I read about your-" she smiled, was practically beaming, "Thom, Champion of the Grand Tourney? Sweetheart I am so, so incredibly proud of you. That's just- that's so amazing. I...wanted to reach out to you, but I was afraid you might perceive it as uh...your junkie mother discovering you'd just come into some money. And then you went into the military. I tried to keep tabs on you, how you were doing. When I learned you were finishing your final tour of duty...well I've been leading a clean and stable life for well over a decade now. So...I reached out." She licked her lips, sipped at her coffee for a moment and then, she cleared her throat. "I...it wasn't like I was receiving minute by minute details on your life, but er...I didn't hear anything about a child. Ellie is…?” and at his awkward silence trying to sort through everything that happened and how to explain without jeopardizing Ellie’s safety. “Honey, come on. It’s me, I’m hardly the person to judge you. You’re sure she’s yours? She does have cheekbones like your aunt Mavin-“

              Hold up, “I have an aunt?” Since when?

              She nodded. “She passed when we were thirteen, three or so months after I got pregnant with you. She uh...she'd been excited, to be an aunt. Would've loved you and Liddy to pieces.”

              “You were both thirteen?” he...he'd always known his mother was young, but Maker, she'd only been a child.

              “Fraternal twins,” she offered.

              “Oh. I’m- I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

              “Well…that’s hardly a surprise, you don’t really have a way to know,” she shrugged.

              Thom shook his head to clear it, “Um, Ellie isn’t- she is mine, now. Or at least I- I want her to be. We um, I met her on the road here, she’s from Antiva—an orphan. She’s been traveling the Free Marches all on her own and um, hasn’t been able to find someplace safe and I-“

              “You want to take care of her,” his mother said as if it were obvious to expect, like that was concerning, “Honey, you’ve always been that person. You spent your entire childhood taking care of me, of…of Liddy-“

              “And whose fault was that?” he snapped.

              “Mine,” she assured him. “I’m not blaming or judging you sweetheart, I just think you should stop and really consider-“

              “Nope. Already stopped, already considered," sort of, mostly, it didn't matter, "I’m doing this, and I only came here because from all the things I’ve been hearing all day you might actually be of help in this situation. You’re either in or you aren’t and we’ll be on our way.”

              “Al- alright, I’m sorry I- I just didn’t want you rushing into something…if you grow to regret it, the person you’ll hurt the most is Ellie. I’ve been there, done that, it’s why we’re here today,” she said, “If you’re absolutely certain, of course I’ll do anything I can to help you.”

              …”Alright. Thank you,” he said, sipping at his coffee… “Here…here isn’t that bad. You’ve um, done well for yourself. You’re a uh, accountant?”

              She nodded. “Uh huh. Turns out when I’m not too busy chasing dragons, I’ve a mind for math and law.”

              “Law?” oh yeah, bachelors in it, huh.

              “I know, can you believe it? Break enough and I suppose their ins and out stick with you,” she offered lightly. “I help other women take control of their finances and run their own business and the like.”

              “I uh, met Dana, and Clarice. Some uh, bloke, student of yours? Works in this soap shop on this little street off of Park?”

              “James! I thought your bags looked familiar,” she said, “You went on a bit of a spree?”

              “She needed things, the girl was basically in rags when we met and I couldn’t have her walking around barefoot in my old nightshirt.”

              “So…you would like to adopt her?”

              He nodded. “I um…I’m not sure how exactly that’ll work. I’d rather not try getting in contact with her old orphanage they um…probably think she’s dead and it might be best if it stays that way.”

              “Oh my word, are you serious?” she breathed, shaking herself, “Alright…we can work with that if you’re willing to bend some truth. If you’re truly, genuinely in this…I can make that happen, all you have to do is take care of that girl and keep your story straight.”

              “Story?”

              “While you were in the Military you met and bedded an Antivan woman, when she passed her estate reached out and informed you of your child, in fact that's why your last tour out was your last, so you could collect her and bring her home to raise. I’ll secure her appropriate documentation, and everything you’ll need to prove parentage, have custody of her.”

              “Isn’t that uh…just a little illegal?”

              “It’s a lot illegal, but whose to dispute us? Clarice was with child when she first came here, has a boy just about Ellie’s age. She needed help making certain her ex-wife couldn't claim maternity of their child-," at the bit of confusion that sparked in Thom's features she smiled, "It involves a bit of magic, Clarice carried a child produced by donor sperm and her ex wife's egg. Their relationship had always been volatile but she was under the impression bringing a child into it would somehow fix it, had promises from her ex that she would change...she did not. So. As far as anyone else is concerned, Clarice suffered a miscarriage—that isn't terribly far from the truth, she nearly did lose her son, it's what prompted her leaving. So we spun it that she did lose him, and when she fled for fear her wife would blame her, her son was sired by an ‘unknown Marcher’ shortly after. Claiming her son has Marcher paternity assisted her immigration to Markham and keeps her ex-wife from having a legal claim to him,” she smiled, "I do promise the accounting portion of my job is wholly above board. But sometimes the best way to truly help people, make them safe, is to go against the letter of the law.”

              He uh…he felt that, especially considering…oh Maker, he wasn’t sure if he should even say anything or-

              His mother just finished another sip of coffee and then, “And you definitely want as few questions as possible, considering she’s an apostate.”

              He choked on his coffee, coughing up a storm as he tried to clear his throat.

              “I’m old, not deaf,” she assured him, ahh. She’d heard their little chat about demon possession. Well then. “I have Apostate students and clients. I don’t have strong feelings on Circling or not, other than I do…support the idea that it should be a choice.”

              He nodded. “Ellie is uh…she’s absolutely terrified of Circles.”

              “We’ll do everything we can to keep her from them, then,” she promised. “Do you…have a place to stay?” she wondered then.

              “I’ll have to pick up a paper and look for listings. We stayed last night at Dana’s.”

              “There’s plenty of room at home if- if you were interested. You’re more than welcome, for however long you need.”

              “Old place?” he wondered.

              “Neighborhood’s improved over the years, and I’ve been able to fix up the house. I um…I own it now.”

              “That’s really great,” he said, “Uhh…” shit. He hadn’t been- nothing was going according to plan, but he wasn’t sure that was a bad thing. Ellie needed a roof over her head, and he needed to watch his coin purse, make sure they had enough to get by while he was still figuring things out—there was housing, and what was he going to do, career wise? Maker. “Y-yeah. Sure. As long as that’s alright by you-“

              Maggie cleared her throat softly, looking down, oh, her eyes had watered a bit but she wasn’t wishing to make a big deal of it he supposed. She turned her back to him to face the counter again, top off her coffee as she said, “Of course. I’d be happy to have you home.”

              “We won’t uh…be imposing on you or uh, anyone?”

              “No, no. I cut ties with…everyone from before,” she said.

              “Seeing anyone new?” he wondered, politely.

              She smiled, shaking her head. “No. I mostly focus on my work, my sobriety.” Then, “What about you? Aside from hypothetical Antivan one night stands?”

              …oh his uh, stomach sort of twisted at that. He wasn’t…he wasn’t sure she knew, or if she did, how she’d feel about it. But uh,that store clerk...what was his name? He hadn't given it, had he? Mother'd been of help to him, accepting. So, he offered it as light as possible, like it was common knowledge, because technically it was, to people in their lives. “Cyril and me still have a steady thing goin’.”

              “Oh!” she chirped at that, “Oh I’m so happy to hear that! I thought you two would make a nice pair."

              “You uh, knew?” he wondered.

              She nodded. “When I was actually paying attention, yes I…I mean it was obvious that boy was head of heels in love with you, I knew as much when you two were Ellie’s age. Cyril’s always been stuck on you—I’m just glad to hear the feeling is mutual. He seems to be a good man.”

              “You seen him around?”

              “Occasionally, he…he checks in on me, when he comes to visit his parents.”

              …that, Thom hadn’t known. Which was probably for the best, they’d likely be broken up if he’d known Cyril had any contact with his mother before uh, today. So.

              “This is all a lot different,” Thom said awkwardly, trying to compliment, he just felt like he wasn’t doing a very good job at it. “You’re um…you’re doing good, mom.”

              “I should’ve done good back then,” she said. “But the only thing I can do now, is my best to do good from now on. I am serious, honey. Whatever you need, whatever that girl needs, I’m…I’m in if you are.”

              “You’ve not even known her an hour,” he offered gently, meaning it was okay if she still had her hesitances.

              She checked her watch, insisting, “It's been exactly one hour and fourteen minutes since you two came barging in here. I’m sorry I was ready to beat you with a crowbar—this is a nice neighborhood but a lot of my clients hire my services to assist them with securing their finances after messy divorces or with settling inheritance disputes. I deal with a great many angry spouses and spoiled adult children.”

              “Should get a guard or something,” he suggested.

              “I do—have security, that is, just not working today, obviously. Save my trusty crowbar.”

              Thom’s heart just about jumped out of his chest when there was a bloodcurdling scream from the sitting room and he bolted to the girl’s side, shaking her a bit to rouse her,

              “Ellie, sweetheart-“

              She sat upright, gasping in breath before she screamed out, “No lo lastimes! Por favor, por favor—dejalo en paz! Lo siento, lo siento! Solo deja que sea seguro!” in a rush, shaking and crying, and-

              “Shhh shhh shhhh, hey, hey it’s okay Ellie-girl, it’s alright,” he promised, seating himself on the edge of the couch and wrapping his arms around her, “Everything’s alright.”

              “They- they- they h-h-hurt you, I was so scared!”

              “No one hurt me, sweetheart, did you have a bad dream about before?” she nodded, and he looked to his mother as he reassured the girl, “You kept me safe. Barrier, remember? His knife didn’t even touch me.”

               She sniffled, "K-kay. S-s-sorry-"

              “Oh honey, you’ve had a very long day,” Maggie said, crouching to be level with Ellie, “everything’s going to be alright. Thank you, for protecting my son. Protecting one another, that’s what family does—you protected him, and I promise you, I will protect you. Okay?” she made that clear, and Ellie nodded. “Good. Now…if you two feel up to it, I think we can wrap up here and head home, alright? You need a bath little missy.”

              Oh Maker, she looked excited about that, “A bath?”

              “Uh-huh,” Maggie assured, rising and looking to Thom, “You too mister—you stink to high heaven,” Oi! “I can’t believe this girl has put up with it this whole time.” Ellie giggled at that! Adorable little traitor she was!

              Mother did a run through of her office building, making sure all lamps were out, nothing was running in the kitchen, collected her briefcase from her actual work area and closed it up, locking the double doors that lead to her office space before joining Thom and Ellie at the entrance. Ellie’s hand was secure in his, and Russel was in her little pack again, and she offered up her free hand to his mother.

              So. Thom Rainier walked hand in hand with…with his little girl, and his mother, headed for home.