It had been a long trip. Freedom was at her best, but even so--so many supply lines would their way down the roads that he'd had to take sideroads. Usually, he did this anyway, but now? He wasn't fleeing anything. He was headed for the garrisons. He'd made his peace--or something like it--with Brian, but...

Dear God, what was he supposed to do with the boy? And now he had to find Elsie, to see what--what could possibly--he just hoped she was all right. He remembered a tiny, flax-haired child. He was honestly amazed she'd survived. Ten years. It had been almost ten years.

The garrison was tightly wound, and he was stopped at the gate and searched thoroughly before they let him in. His excuse was work in the kitchens, and he flourished a falsified letter proclaiming him lame. Faking a limp was no trouble to him at all, and he nudged on Freedom affably, aware that the horse's decrepitude bore out his assertions. He really wouldn't be able to keep her much longer.

The kitchens bustled at this time of day, even though it was only past dawn, and already frightfully hot. The roar of flame added to the Hellish atmosphere, and all was shouting the knives and the brush of what seemed like hundreds of busy women. Which could be his sister? "Elsie Farraday," he said loudly, bending to ask one of the women nearby, but she just shrugged and twitched him off.

At last, sweating and disoriented, he spun around to see--was that a touch of familiarity around a mouth, eyes that evoked their mother? That curious Farraday hair?

"Elsie?" he said, tentative--more so with her than with anyone. Anyone else he could speak to glib as glib, but it'd been years and years. And he bore the burden of his guilt heavily. "It's Conn... are you Elsie Farraday?"

Anne was furiously looking around for something to do, so she could say she had actually done something rather then returned to her bed for the afternoon from illness. Elsie on the other hand had been trying to do the girl a favour and let her have the rest of the evening off so she could overcome the illness. But no, she had returned and somehow reversed her infirmity and was now taking the whole run of things out on a girl who was 3 years younger then her. It did not annoy Elsie to see Anne reacting in such a way, it was expected, “Take it whatever way you will Anne, I was only trying to make your life a little easier.”

“Don’t give me that heap Elsie! I know very much what you were trying to do,” Anne said, finally finding something to do by restacking the furnace to keep it going overnight. Elsie watched the redhead gain a splinter from the freshly chopped wood and had to bite her tongue to stop herself from laughing out loud.

“What am I very much trying to do Anne?” she said briskly, more to annoy Anne then to gain a reply. To her glee it worked and Anne turned around to glare at Elsie. It was clear she had met the red dragon hiding in Anne, but only grimaced it. She was at no liberty to unleash it. Elsie had won the battle, as Anne could find no more words to better her. Instead Anne looked past them at a commotion going on near the door, a woman bustled past Elsie and quickly whispered, “Someone at the door lassie, asking for you.”

Before Anne could say anything further Elsie was gone. Elsie hurried off to the door, wondering who on earth would be asking for her. She had made sure Collier and his companion were well stocked for the night. Teagan had wandered off somewhere. So, that narrowed it down to nobody. She came to the door, a man was there with his back to her. He was tall, and older then she, but he did not hit her- as someone she knew. She wondered what on earth a stranger would want with her. When he turned around, his eyes pierced her. She knew those eyes!

She knew that voice! She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. She knew the name too! Instead of being hesitant, she walked forward and embraced him. It came as a shock to her that she embraced him, she had not seen him in years. Her heart was beating recklessly. This was her brother.

She abruptly realised she had not answered his question and although still in his embrace she spoke quietly, “Yes Conn. I am Elsie.” She ignored they eyes on both of them, she knew they were concerned for her. Well, most of them.

"Elsie." His arms felt suddenly stiff, and he put them around her body tentatively. She was very skinny, like Brian. Guilt, there it was--guilt again, always. "It's been a long time."

He pulled back far enough to look her in the eye, to see if her gaze held the shadow that haunted his brother's. No; she was more innocent, he could tell that at a glance. In Brian's eyes madness lived. In Elsie's, only a touch of fear, a hint of timidity, and the refreshing spark of pure youth. Silently, Conn offered up thanks to the God he only half-believed in.

"How're--you're all right here? You don't lack for nothin'?" Unconsciously, his voice slid into the rougher registers of his boyhood, away from the aristocratic tones he'd been cultivating in the ten years of his freedom. "I've some money, so you... you don't go wantin'..."

But it was Too Little, Too Late, of course. "And news from your brother. He wants you to come back, but Elsie, I tell you, Brian has something in his head as is eating away at him. Stay here--nothing but trouble brewing at the fiefdom." He kept his voice low, his lips moving only as much as was necessary, and--before asking her sayso--pushed a purse full of sterlings into her hands. What he wanted was to embrace her, to weep into her hair... what he managed was the cold commerce of coin, and warnings.

Words could not explain what was running through Elsie both physically and mentally. For so long, she had wondered over her older brother that it felt as though this was one big dream. One with a great big happy ending, but she knew it was not exactly that straight forward. He moved back to look into her eyes, as though he was searching for something. But searching for what? As she watched his eyes, what was it that she saw lining the very core of them? Was there an element of shame and guilt that held, locked in his eyes? Those eyes that were so recognisable for her.

It took her a moment to register what he was saying to her, and for a moment it probably looked like she had gained some sort of disability. They were right near the Kitchen door, in the sight of all the Kitchen hands. Both her and her brother, now an item of speculation. Putting them both on the spot. She let a smile touch across her lips, and nodded to his first question. When he mentioned Brian, her other beloved brother she felt a slight touch of weakness and guilt. She had left Brian a few years ago and had barely been able to keep in contact with him. The mention of him wanting her to return, burnt at her heart. For so long she had wanted to return, but apart from Brian there was nothing left at Lawley for her.

The touch of a purse landed in her dry skin. Her hands were dry from the amount of time they spent washing. She looked at it for a second, before returning her eyes to Conn. Was he trying to rid his guilt of leaving her, by giving her money? Still her curiosity lingered. She wanted to know more… why had he left? Where had he been? And so much more. She turned to a kitchen-hand, “Marlee, could you please inform Teagan that I require the rest of the evening off, and will make up for it tomorrow?”

Before Marlee could answer, Teagan reached for a coat, grasped Conn’s hand and went out the door. She probably should have asked Teagan herself, but she gathered that by saying she would make up for it tomorrow she would be in the clear. The Garrison was still noisy, bustling with testosterone. She had no idea, where the could go to talk but just away from scrutinizing eyes would do. The fresh air touched her face like a fond greeting, as she decided to follow a path leading towards the river. They might be able to have some privacy there for the moment, if they were lucky.

“Before you start apologising,” Elsie started, not even looking at Conn, just simply the trail ahead, “I want you to know I am not angry at you for leaving. I don’t have any idea why you left in the first place, but I don’t hold you responsible for anything.”

She said that in quite a genuine and authentic voice, “…but when I do have the reason don’t expect me to stay to my words. I may very well chance my mind,” she said in jest, with a happy smile. It did not matter that she had not seen Conn in forever, she still felt comfortable around him, and to let him know she was happy to have him return for however long without literally having to say it… was probably a good thing.

Conn followed his little sister along a well-worn path to the river, an eye out for any watchers. After so long on his own, he could tell when there were people about. But, even straining his ears and keeping his peripheral vision on full alert, he could only pick up the distant sounds of men splashing in the stream further down. The twitter of birds in trees lent a certain idyllic quality to the surroundings. His sister, beside him, seemed to shift queerly between looking like Brian, looking like their mother, and looking like Conn himself.

It was so strange, seeing her again.

Even if she didn't, and he hoped she didn't, Conn knew he'd have to go back to Lawley. Even if only to see that the damned Lawley boy got his comeuppance for the suffering he'd caused. And because clearly, killing the evildoers did nothing when the system just replaced one bad steward with another.

It was his fault, then, that Brian had gotten his fingers chopped instead of just--well--the horrors Egon had inflicted on him were bad but they would have ended. This cycle, this was monstrous.

He shook himself out of the thoughts and went to sit on a nearby stump, patting the spot next to him for Elsie.

"Everyone gets a change of mine, even if not a change of clothes. I was never going to see my family again, and here I am." He granted her a slightly pallid smile. "Has life been treating you right here, Elsie? It's not too hard of work? You've enough to eat, and no cruel masters?"

For a moment there was nothing but the sounds of birds and the river, but by listening harder one could hear the shouts of men enjoying the afternoon stream. It was not like Elsie to usually get on edge about men being around but knowing that herself and Teagan had been attacked a few days earlier still had her on the edge. She was very careful not to go anywhere alone, or out of public eye.

She watched as Conn sat himself down on a stump and invited her to sit beside him. She didn’t hesitate. Even though she had not been within her his company fir many years passed she still felt safe with him. She doubted he had changed that much that she would feel uncomfortable to sit beside him. She brushed a strand of her hair from her face, which separated them. For a moment she stole a sideward glance and looked at how much his face had changed yet in some strange way still held resemblance to the one she had known when she was little.

He seemed deeply concerned about her, especially with all the questions about how she was doing. She wondered whether it had been sparked by a guilt of having left both her brother and her, and making a better life for himself. She had never had the motivation to leave Lawley until she found that she could earn slightly more money then what she was earning. That was temptation enough. However she had found that she was not liking the Garrison as much as she had used to. The conscription thing had changed the entire atmosphere. But what else could she do?

“It has treated me alright,” she said truthfully, “There is enough to get me through week by week. It isn’t exactly hard work just rather demanding at times. I have no masters really… but there are some cruel men around. This whole conscription thing is really hard on the women that work here.”

She sighed. She wasn’t complaining. It had been her choice to come here, she had to live with it right? But it wasn’t exactly the life her childhood had allowed her to dream of. If anything she thought being little had been more splendid then now. Money didn’t seem as needily as it was now, and you had so much energy to burn that you could run around for hours. Elsie watched a strand of grass wobble in the wind, her eyes not leaving it for a second. But she couldn’t help but wonder whether she would be the same person she was now, if she had all the money in the world. Or would she simply be as high-nosed as the higher class women?