Bernard's heavy footfalls thudded across the worn floorboards as he paced the length of Aleria's quarters. His brow was knit in a deep furrow, jaw clenched so tightly the cords of muscle along his neck stood out in taut ridges.

"Those feckless goblin bastards..." he snarled, rounding on his heel to stalk back the other way. "They've grown bolder than I'd 'ave ever dreamed, attackin' my bloody town!"

Aleria watched her old friend in measured silence, seemingly unperturbed by his wrathful tirade. She reclined in the room's sole upholstered chair, fingers drumming on the arm rest.

"They're mountain dwellers, 'Ria!" Bernard threw his hands up in exasperation, whirling to face her once more. "The nearest blasted range is more'n a week's hard march from here!" His meaty fist slammed down on aleria's small writing desk with enough force to rattle the few possessions adorning its battered surface. "How'n the seven hells did those stunted little shits make their way this far south undetected?"

Aleria arched a single auburn brow at his outburst, her expression one of infuriatingly practised calm. "You know as well as I that goblin tribes can cover surprising distances when motivated, Bernard," she replied in an even tone. "Especially if there was some perceived reward driving them."

The burly mayor scowled, his hand raking through his cropped grey hair in agitation. "Aye, perhaps you're right. But it still begs the question of what could've lured them all this way." His eyes narrowed to mere slits. "This was no mere raiding party out to pilfer what scraps they could. This was an organised assault!"

Aleria's gaze drifted towards the small window, her eyes pensive as she considered Bernard's words. "It is... odd that they would risk assaulting such a well-garrisoned settlement," she admitted at length. "Though perhaps their need for supplies grew so desperate that even the shanty district appeared a tempting target, meagre as the potential spoils might be."

Her attention swung back to Bernard. "That still doesn't explain why you've chosen to vent your ire here, in my home" Aleria pointed out, her tone mild but laced with the faintest undercurrent of rebuke. "Surely such matters are better discussed with your officers?"

Her gaze was intent, awaiting his response with a scrutiny that would have sent many a lesser man squirming. Yet Aleria's mien remained one of serene detachment, utterly unflustered by her old friend's bluster.

Bernard released a weary groan, the lines of his weathered face seeming to etch themselves deeper into his craggy features. "Those green boys ain't seen half the carnage you an' I witnessed back in the day, 'Ria," he muttered. "Two nights past was like to be the first real taste o' combat for most o' the sorry lot."

He dragged a hand down his face, displacing the grizzled bristles of his beard. "I'll give the lads their due, mind - they acquitted themselves well enough once the alarm was raised. But..." Trailing off, Bernard shook his head, his brow creasing in consternation. "Well, we were damned lucky the goblins broke off their attack when they did, that's for sure."

Aleria held her tongue, merely inclining her head in a slight nod to indicate she was listening. Bernard was working himself up to something, that much was clear - best to simply allow him to get there in his own time.

Sure enough, after drawing a fortifying breath, he met her cool gaze head-on. "Truth be told, I'm considerin' sending out a ranger patrol to try an' track down the rest of that brood," he admitted grimly. "See if we can't nip any further trouble in the bud before those bastards 'ave a chance to regroup an' hit us again."

"You fear this may have been merely the vanguard of a larger force?" she asked, a slight worry creeping into her tone. "That the true brunt of their numbers still lurks somewhere out there, lying in wait?"

Bernard grimaced, the expression tugging his scarred features into a rictus of grim lines. "I'd be a fool not to at least consider the possibility," he growled. "Last Gate can ill afford to suffer another onslaught of the like. We were damned lucky to come through with as few casualties as we did. An' dont even get me started on the amount o' repairs needed."

His eyes bored into Aleria's. "Which is why I could use the counsel of an ol' veteran like yourself, 'Ria," Bernard stated flatly. "Your strategic mind was sharper than most during the conflict. If anyone can suss out what those goblin bastards might be playing at, it's you."

Aleria heaved a weary sigh, her shoulders slumping almost imperceptibly beneath the weight of Bernard's expectant stare. "You know full well I've no mind for such strategizing anymore, old friend," she chided, unable to fully mask the undercurrent of melancholy tingeing her words. "Those days are long behind me - I'm naught but a humble healer now, content to tend to the ails of my new flock."

Unconsciously, her fingers drifted to the battered iron pendant resting against the swell of her breast. "I called forth my blade out of dire necessity this time, true enough," Aleria admitted with a faint grimace. "But you have my word it shall not become a habit. Last Gate is my home now, and I'll gladly defend its streets should the need arise once more. But my days of plotting campaigns are well and truly over."

Bernard's craggy features twisted in a scowl of obvious displeasure. "A damned shame, that," he grumbled, leaning back. "By the war's end, the force you commanded dwarfed most."

Aleria regarded her old friend with a measured look, lips pressed into a tight line. "A force that would likely have seen me burned at the stake," she countered evenly. "You know as well as I that The Kingdoms merely tolerated my methods during the war because I represented a conveniently destructive weapon to be aimed at the enemy."

Her thumb pressed firmly into one of the runes on the back of the pendant causing the colour to drain from its skin. "Once the euphoria of victory faded, there would have been little hesitation in branding me a threat to the crowns and church. My very existence would be seen as a risk no monarch could abide, another potential demon king to fend off."

A faint, rueful smile ghosted across her full lips. "So you'll forgive me, I hope, for being somewhat less than eager to embrace the role of The Witch once more. This..." She waved a hand to indicate the modest confines of her new clinic. "...humble though it may be, represents the closest thing to a normal life I've known in decades. I've no intention of surrendering that solace so easily."

Bernard opened his mouth as if to argue further, then seemed to think better of it with a weary sigh. Dragging a calloused hand down his craggy features, he simply shook his head. "Aye… aye it was unfair of me to ask…"

Aleria inclined her head, acknowledging the point with a slight dip of her chin. "For what it's worth, I've every faith your men acquit themselves admirably with you to command them," she offered in a gentler tone.

Straightening in her seat, Aleria allowed the ghost of a smile to tug at the corners of her lips. "Though if you'd permit me one strategic recommendation for old time's sake?" she added lightly. "I'd suggest posting a few extra sentries to the western ridge until this business has blown over. The terrain there would make an ideal staging ground for any would-be invaders to scout the town's defences before launching another assault."

Bernard's brow furrowed contemplatively for a moment before he gave a grudging nod of agreement. "Aye, sound advice as always," he conceded with a grunt. "I'll have a squad rotate up there round the clock until we're sure those goblin bastards have well and truly buggered off."

Bernard's footsteps were heavy on the floorboards as he approached Aleria. For a moment, he simply studied her in silence, as if weighing his next words carefully.

At length, he spoke, his gruff tones filling the room. "Look, 'Ria... I know you've no appetite for the role of a soldier anymore. But might I at least be permitted to seek your counsel on matters from time to time?"

Aleria arched a questioning brow, emerald eyes regarding her old friend with mild curiosity. Bernard let out a weary sigh, squaring his shoulders as he met her inscrutable gaze.

"There's precious few in this bloody town who'd dare call me on my shit the way you always have," he admitted with a rueful shake of his head. "Most folk 'round here are like to just nod along with whatever blasted notion pops into my head, whether it's right or not."

Bernards stare was open and earnest. "But not you," he stated firmly. "You've never had any qualms about setting me straight when my pride's gotten the better o' me. Gods know I could use that sort of candour now more'n ever."

Aleria regarded the burly mayor in contemplative silence for a long moment. At last, she gave a slight nod of acquiescence.

"You need not even ask, old friend," she replied, the faintest of smiles ghosting across her lips. "My door shall always be open to you, should you have need of my counsel. I dare say I owe you that much at the very least."

Aleria watched Bernard intently as he made to take his leave. Just as he reached for the door latch, however, he seemed to pause, head raising as if struck by a sudden recollection.

"Ah, blast it all..." Bernard muttered, rummaging within the folds of his cloak. "Near forgot about this."

He produced a hefty leather purse which jingled promisingly with the unmistakable chink of coin. Tossing the bulging satchel to Aleria underhand, he managed a lopsided smirk as she snatched it nimbly from the air.

"That there's your first month's wage from the town coffers," Bernard informed her gruffly. "Should be more'n enough in there to cover all your expenses for the clinic, as well as seeing young Haddy paid for her time too. Might even be sufficient left over to bring on a couple more pairs of hands to assist, if you're of a mind."

Aleria blinked owlishly at the considerable heft of the purse cradled in her palms, clearly taken aback by the sheer volume of coin it contained. She shot Bernard a sidelong look.

"Forgive me for wondering, but... where precisely are you acquiring the funds for such a generous salary?" she inquired, unable to keep the faint note of scepticism from tingeing her words.

Bernard's smirk morphed into an unabashed grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners with barely-restrained mirth. "Let's just say I've become... adept at finding alternate sources of income for our town's coffers," he replied with a meaningful look. "Though truth be told, you'd likely prefer to remain ignorant of the precise details on that front."

Aleria's brow furrowed slightly at the cryptic response, but she knew better than to press the matter. Bernard had always been one to keep his cards close to the chest.

Instead, she simply offered the grizzled mayor a wry smile and a shake of her head. "In that case, I shall endeavour to take you at your word on the subject," Aleria remarked dryly. Turning the purse over in her hands, she allowed her expression to soften somewhat into one of sincere gratitude. "Though please know this generous sum is greatly appreciated all the same. It shall go a long way towards ensuring the clinic can properly serve this community once more."

Bernard inclined his head in a slight, acknowledging nod. "Just be sure to put it to good use, aye?" he replied with an approving grunt. "An' don't be afraid to ask if you find yourself in need of further funds down the line. I'll see to it you're taken care of, old friend - you 'ave my word on that."

With that, the burly man turned on his heel and took his leave, the heavy tread of his bootsteps soon fading from earshot down the hallway beyond. Left alone with her thoughts once more, Aleria could only shake her head in bemused wonder, eyes drifting to the coin purse still cradled in her palms.

Aleria stood and moved to set it atop the desk tucked against one wall. Fingers worked at the knotted drawstring, tugging it loose to allow the satchel's contents to spill forth in a glittering cascade.

Dozens upon dozens of gold and silver coins clinked and scattered across the desk-top, their polished surfaces winking in the faint illumination filtering through the room's lone window. Aleria's eyes widened fractionally at the sheer sum represented by the haphazard pile.

Gingerly, she plucked one of the gold pieces from the pile, rolling it contemplatively between her thumb and forefinger. Even in a modest provincial town such as Last Gate, she wagered a solitary coin of gold could likely see a single person survive comfortably for the better part of a week.

With an almost unconscious shake of her head, Aleria set the glittering disk back atop the heap before her. While the sum was undoubtedly generous, she found herself chafing at the unspoken strings that inevitably accompanied such magnanimity from Bernard. The gruff old soldier may have played at nonchalance, but Aleria knew him too well to be so easily fooled.

Favours and obligations would be expected in turn for such largesse, of that she had little doubt. Perhaps this was why he'd broached the subject of her counsel and assistance before offering the sum. Still, there would be time enough to fret over such concerns later. For the moment, more practical matters required her attention.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Carefully, she counted out five of the gold coins, setting them aside in a neat stack. That should suffice to ensure Haddy was properly compensated for her invaluable assistance around the clinic, at least for the foreseeable future.

Aleria scooped the remaining coins into a drawer, the clinking metallic chorus almost musical to her ears. For a fleeting moment, she simply stood there, verdant eyes studying the pile now secured within.

An idea struck her then, one born more from instinct than any true forethought. Deft fingers plucked two more gold from the stack, before tucking them securely into the depths of her pocket with a decisive nod.

With a final glance to ensure the drawer was properly secured, Aleria turned on her heel and strode for the door, pulling it open and making her way out into the dimly lit corridor beyond. Her footfalls rang out in a steady cadence as she descended the narrow stairwell towards the clinic's rooms on the floor below.

The space had largely emptied in the days following the raid, Aleria's healing magics giving people scant need to remain long-term for supervision. Many had departed after little more than a day's respite to return to their dwellings. And those who no longer possessed a home to return to were readily taken in by their neighbours. Last Gate was built upon the foundations of people with no place to go, so this town harboured little fondness for witnessing their neighbours on the streets.

Of the few patients who had remained at the clinic following the goblin raid, Tam and Lia were amongst the last. Despite her own initial misgivings, Aleria found herself quite unable to bring herself to send the two young orphans back out onto the streets to fend for themselves.

So when one of the chambers had finally been vacated, she had wasted little time in having a spare cot brought in so the children could share a room.

Now, Aleria found herself standing outside that very same doorway. She could hear the faint murmurings of hushed voices drifting through the weathered wood - doubtless Tam and Lia conversing quietly with one another, as they so often did.

Squaring her shoulders, Aleria rapped her knuckles briskly against the door's surface. "Tam? Lia?" she called out in a tone she endeavoured to keep gentle. "It's Aleria. Might I have a brief word?"

The murmuring on the other side of the door stilled at Aleria's words. After a brief pause, Tam's voice piped up, high and clear.

"Come in!"

Pushing the door open, Aleria stepped inside the modest chamber. Her eye swept across the humble confines, taking in the pair of narrow cots and the sparse furnishings. Finally, she settled upon the two young occupants.

Tam and Lia were perched together atop one of the beds, the girl's head cradled in her brother's lap. From the look of things, Tam had been in the midst of regaling his younger sibling with some fanciful tale or another when Aleria's knock had interrupted them.

"I hope I'm not disturbing anything too terribly important?" Aleria ventured, offering the pair what she hoped was a disarming smile as she moved to seat herself on the unoccupied cot opposite them.

Tam simply shook his head, fingers idly playing with his sister's tousled locks. "Nah, I was just tellin' Lia a story," he assured her easily. "She was gettin' bored just sitting' around all day, so I figured I'd entertain her a bit."

Aleria felt the corners of her lips quirking upwards in an unbidden smile at the boy's nonchalant words. Despite all the hardship they had endured of late, it seemed the siblings still managed to find simple joys wherever they could.

Turning her attention to Lia, Aleria's expression softened further. "And how are you feeling this morning, little one?" she asked gently. "I trust that leg of yours is continuing to mend nicely?"

For a moment, Lia simply blinked owlishly at Aleria, as if caught off guard by being addressed so directly. A faint blush coloured her cheeks as she ducked her head almost shyly.

Then, after a reassuring nod from her brother, the young girl lifted the hem of her simple cotton shift, baring the injured limb. Aleria's gaze followed the motion, studying the angry red scar that now marred Lia's calf where the warg's fangs had savaged her flesh.

"It's... it's feelin' better, ma'am," Lia murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she peered up at the healer through the fringe of her lashes. "Ain't hurtin' much no more, 'cept when I'm walkin' on it too long."

Aleria inclined her head in a slight nod of acknowledgement, emerald eyes still roving over the fading injury with a critical, appraising eye. While her magic had seen the worst of the wound knitted back together, such grievous trauma would inevitably leave its mark for some time yet.

"The scarring should continue to fade in the coming weeks," she assured the girl in a soothing tone. "But for now, I want you to take things slowly, understand? No unnecessary exertion or strenuous activity until you've had ample time to fully recover your strength."

Aleria held Lia's tentative gaze for a beat longer before allowing her features to soften into a warm, reassuring smile.

"You've endured quite an ordeal, little one," she murmured gently. "But you've proven yourself resilient beyond your years in the face of such adversity. I've every confidence you'll make a full recovery before much longer."

Aleria watched the flicker of emotions play across Tam's youthful features as the full weight of her words seemed to register. His brow furrowed, eyes widening slightly as realisation dawned.

"So... so does that mean we gotta' leave the clinic soon?" he asked, a hint of trepidation creeping into his tone. "Now that Lia's all healed up an' such?"

The young boy's arms tightened almost instinctively around his sister, as if bracing to shield her from some unseen threat. Lia, for her part, simply peered up at Aleria with those same wide, guileless eyes, seemingly oblivious to the sudden tension that had gripped her brother.

For a moment, Aleria simply regarded the pair in contemplative silence. Then, slowly, she felt the corners of her lips quirking upwards into a reassuring smile.

"Under normal circumstances, perhaps," she conceded with a slight incline of her head. "But I dare wager my guess that the pair of you were living rough amongst the refugee tents before finding your way here, am I correct?"

Tam's eyes went wide at that, clearly taken aback by Aleria's candid assessment. After an instant's hesitation, however, the boy simply gave a mute nod of confirmation, seeming to shrink in on himself almost imperceptibly.

Aleria's smile deepened, though it held no trace of pity or condescension - only warm understanding. "I couldn't well imagine a boy of your age and his younger sister having much in the way of prospects or means to properly care for themselves," she remarked, her tone gentle but pragmatic.

Leaning forward, Aleria rested her elbows on her knees, holding Tam's shrinking gaze as she carefully weighed her next words.

Lia blinked owlishly up at Aleria, the subtle furrow of her brow betraying her bewilderment at the unfamiliar word.

"What's a... a 'pospec', Miss Aleria?" the young girl asked, tilting her head quizzically to one side.

Aleria couldn't help the low chuckle that warmed her chest at Lia's endearingly earnest inquiry. Leaning forward, she reached out to give the child's shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"It simply means opportunities or chances for your future, little one," she explained gently. Turning her attention towards Tam, Aleria's expression took on a more pensive cast.

"Which is precisely what I wished to discuss with the pair of you," she began steadily. "If it's amenable, I would be more than willing to allow you both to remain here at the clinic for the near future."

Tam's eyes widened at the unexpected offer. Before he could find his voice to respond, however, Aleria lifted a hand in a placating gesture.

"Make no mistake, this would be no mere handout," she cautioned, arching an eyebrow meaningfully. "In exchange for food and lodgings, I would expect you both to contribute around the clinic as you're able. Keeping the place tidy, running small errands, perhaps even assisting with some of the more menial tasks of patient care when needed."

She allowed a faint smile to quirk at the corners of her lips as she gave Tam's shoulder an affectionate pat.

"I would also insist that you both endeavour to learn your letters and basic arithmetic," Aleria added, her tone leaving little room for negotiation on that particular point. "An education, however rudimentary, is required in a setting such as this."

Tam seemed to sag with visible relief at Aleria's offer, his slight shoulders slumping as if a tremendous weight had just been lifted from them. In that moment, the healer caught a fleeting glimpse of the burden the young boy had shouldered – the responsibility of caring for his sister in the aftermath of their parents' passing.

A pang of empathy lanced through Aleria's chest as she studied Tam's features, so achingly young and yet etched with worries no child should ever have to bear. Before she could think better of it, her hand dipped into the pocket of her breeches, fingers closing around the two heavy golden coins she had secreted away earlier.

"Here," she said impulsively, extending her upturned palm to proffer the coins. One found its way into Tam's hand, the other into Lia's smaller grip. "A gift from me to the pair of you."

The children's eyes went wide, drinking in the sight of such unimaginable wealth with a mixture of shock and disbelieving awe. Tam's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment before he finally managed to find his voice.

"M-Miss Aleria... we can't... this is too much..." he stammered, seeming to shrink in on himself almost unconsciously.

Aleria simply shook her head, emerald eyes crinkling at the corners as she favoured the pair with a warm smile.

"You can and you will," she assured them gently. "If my proposal does not sit well with you, if you would prefer to seek out other opportunities elsewhere, then you are free to do so. Those coins are yours to keep, regardless."

Her expression took on a more impish cast as she arched one eyebrow meaningfully.

"However," Aleria continued, unable to resist adding with a hint of teasing lilt to her tone. "Should you choose to accept and hold up your end of our little arrangement, there will be another golden coin like that waiting for each of you every seven days' end. Fair work deserves fair compensation."

Lia's eyes went perfectly round as she stared down at the coin resting in her small palm. For a moment, she seemed utterly transfixed by the way it glinted and winked in the feeble candlelight, as if scarcely able to comprehend the sheer value it represented.

"Do you always use such funny-big-words, Miss Aleria? If'n I learn my letters, can I use them too?" she piped up suddenly, tilting her head in that familiar quizzical gesture.

Before Aleria could even begin to formulate a response, however, Lia's attention had already shifted with the mercurial whimsy so inherent to the very young.

"Tam, Tam!" she enthused, clutching the coin tightly as she twisted to face her brother. "D'you think we could use these to buy sweeties from the market?"

At that, Tam swiftly plucked the coin from his sister's grasp, shaking his head firmly as he closed his fist around the small fortune.

"No," he chided gently, though his tone held an undeniable edge of weary patience - as if this were a lesson he had imparted many times before. "These ain't for spending' on treats an' the like. We gotta save 'em, don't you see? For... for when we might need 'em someday."

Tam's gaze slid sideways to meet Aleria's, the wariness flickering behind his eyes giving voice to the myriad questions clearly weighing upon him. For a long moment, he simply studied her in pensive silence, as if searching for some deeper motive, some hidden angle he had yet to discern.

"Beggin' your pardon, ma'am," he ventured at last, clutching the coins tightly in his upturned palm. "But... well, why's it you're offering' this to me an' Lia?"

The young boy's features seemed to harden almost imperceptibly as he pressed on, a hint of defiant challenge creeping into his tone.

"Don't mean no disrespect, truly. But after everythin' we been through, after losin' our ma an' da... well, you learn to be 'spectful of folks what make big promises like this."

Tam held Aleria's gaze steadily, his slight shoulders squared as he awaited her response. Despite his tender years, there was a wariness to the set of his jaw, an edge of cynicism that should never have been present in one so young - a harsh legacy of the hardship and deprivation he had endured.

In that moment, Aleria saw the shape of the man Tam would one day become reflected in those too-old eyes. Pragmatic and cautious to a fault, tempered by the harsh realities of an unforgiving world. But not so jaded as to have entirely abandoned the spark of hope that still flickered within.

Aleria steadied herself with a deep breath. Her head flicked towards the doorway for a brief instant before returning to settle upon Tam's expectant features.

"Walk with me a moment, Tam," she said finally, rising fluidly to her feet. Without awaiting the boy's response, Aleria turned and made her way towards the exit, trusting that he would follow in her wake.

Sure enough, she could hear the faint scuffing of bare feet against the hardwood floors as Tam hastened to catch up with her retreating stride. As they crossed the threshold out into the dimly lit corridor beyond, Aleria slanted a sidelong glance over her shoulder, offering the boy a reassuring smile.

They walked in silence for several paces, leading them away from the modest chamber Tam shared with his sister. Only once they had put a sufficient distance between themselves and those quarters did Aleria finally come to a halt, turning to face her young charge directly.

Aleria's gaze held steady upon Tam's inquisitive features, eyes glinting with a solemn weight that seemed to belie her youthful countenance. For a fleeting instant, she appeared to be weighing her next words with painstaking care.

"You're right to be wary, Tam," she said at last, her tone low and measured. "Particularly in the wake of all you and your sister have endured thus far. The world can be a cruel, unforgiving place for those left bereft of hearth and kin."

Crouching down, Aleria dropped into a semi-squat until she was nearer to the boy's eye level. Up close, she could make out the myriad emotions flickering across his features – wariness, mistrust, but tinged with the faintest glimmers of desperate hope.

"I fought in the same war that claimed your father's life, Tam," she told him quietly. "I witnessed firsthand the devastation and misery it wrought upon this land and its people. Entire villages razed to smouldering ruin. Innocents butchered by the score, their pleas for mercy falling upon deaf ears."

Aleria's expression tightened almost imperceptibly at the dark recollections. When she spoke again, her voice was little more than a hoarse rasp, fraught with a simmering anguish that fed the hollowness of her words.

"I saw far too many children just like you and Lia starve or freeze or succumb to ailments that should have been mere trifles to treat," she continued heavily. "Watched as the light slowly dimmed from their eyes, their tiny frames withering away to mere husks before the end finally, mercifully came."

Tam seemed to shrink back almost instinctively from the rawness of Aleria's tone, his eyes going wide at the visceral imagery her words had so vividly evoked. For a long moment, the corridor was utterly silent save for the faint creak of the floorboards beneath their feet.

Then, finally, Aleria lifted her gaze to meet Tam's once more. Gone was the shadow that had darkened her eyes mere moments before, replaced now by a look of quiet resolution.

"If you suspect I might harbour some selfish motive or ulterior aim with my offer, Tam, then you would be wise not to discount such misgivings entirely," she said, her voice soft but laced with steely conviction. "For you speak truly – I do indeed have my selfish reasons…"

Leaning forward slightly, Aleria reached out to lay one slender hand atop Tam's bony shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze as she held his gaze steadily.

"Because I don't think I could bear to see that happen to a child again."

Tam's eyes widened slightly at Aleria's candid admission, the guarded mask he had so carefully maintained slipping ever so slightly. For an instant, his expression seemed to fracture, the faintest tremble playing at the corners of his lips as a myriad of emotions flickered across his youthful features.

Exhaustion, resignation, gratitude - a whirlwind of conflicting responses all vying for dominance before the boy seemed to settle on a tentative nod of acceptance.

"We... we'll stay, then," he murmured, his voice catching ever so slightly in his throat. Tam swallowed hard, lifting his gaze to meet Aleria's with a look that bordered on pleading. "If it's alright by you, ma'am... might I have my own room, separate from Lia's?"

The ghost of a sheepish grin tugged at one corner of the boy's mouth as his eyes slid sideways, unable to meet the Aleria's inquisitive stare directly.

"Don't get me wrong, I love my little sister more'n anythin'," Tam rushed to add, as if suddenly fearful he had given grievous offence. "But truth be told, she can be a mite... well, annoyin' at times."