“So I just go in there and play with them?” 

“Play with them, keep them calm and safe, make sure they’re being nice, so yeah basically.” Bevin said. They were outside the children’s tent, where the children of the rebels or the orphans of now dead rebels were taken care of. Lythian was wearing a plain tunic and trousers but had braided her hair back so it wouldn’t be in her face. She moved to enter but hesitated, 

“What if they don't like me?” Bevin just smiled at her and stepped forward, pulling back the flap for her. Inside the small group of children surrounding the women sitting on the floor all looked up. The women had warm brown skin and a friendly face.

“Oh there you are,” she said in a kind welcoming voice, “Kids, “ she gestured from the kids to Lythian, “This is Miss Lythian.” there was a quiet chorus of ‘hello miss Ly…’ she almost chuckled when she realized they were having trouble pronouncing her name.

“Lith-i-an,” The children continued to look confused so she said, “You can just call me Miss Lissie.” in response the children chorused back,

“Hello Miss Lissie.” but because of some of their lisps it sounded more like “Lithie” she smiled and took the place of the women who had been watching them. 

“Miss Lythie is going to play with you for a few hours until I come back with Miss Oya,” The woman looked at one of the children in particular, looked a bit older than the rest and a great deal more sad, “You’ll like that won’t you Bran?” The boy didn’t say anything but he looked out from behind his curtain of dark hair and blinked at the women. The lady seemed unconcerned however and continued on, “have fun kids!” and with that the women walked into the bustle that was the rebel camp mid afternoon. Lythian looked up at Bevin who smiled and said, 

“I gotta go help Reagan with something but I’ll be back in an hour to see how you’re doing, alright?” before leaving. Lythian smiled looking around at the kids and found three faces smiling back at her, two seeming distracted or thinking about something else, and one, the boy- Bran the woman had called him- sitting slightly apart from the group and gazing sadly at the wooden floor of the tent. She was about to ask the boy a question when she felt a sharp tug on the sleeve of her loose tunic. She looked down and found a girl, five or six  maybe, holding on to her shirt. The girl was tan with a head of curly blonde hair that brushed her shoulders. 

“Miss Lissie-”

“If you want you can call me Lythie.” she tried and the girl started again.

“Miss Lythie,” she did her best to stifle a small snort of amusement at the formality, “Will you tell us a story?” A boy jumped up, looking to be about five or six, 

“Oh tell one about a brave hero!” as he said it his arm shot up and she saw he was holding a stick like it was a sword. As his arm went up the stick hit one of the children beside him in the face. Lythian quickly removed the small girl from her sleeve and rushed over to the little girl who was now sobbing loudly and holding her nose. The girl was small, four or five maybe, with brown skin and her black hair was braided into cornrows braids that brushed her shoulders. Lythain sat down and gave her a hug trying to calm her down before pulling away and asking the girl,

“Are you okay, let me look at it.” the girl wailed and cried

“It hurts, it hurts!” the girl seemed to have a lisp on her s’s.

“It does not!” the boy that had hit her had crossed his arms defensively, “I didn’t even hit you that hard!”

“It does too hurt!” The girl that had tugged at her sleeve started

“Fionn stop it, don’t you see she’s hurt!” Fionn, that was his name. Fionn looked like he was about to shoot back but Lythian held up a hand and he stopped.

“Fionn, give me the stick-” Fionn started to protest but she held up her hand again, “Give me the stick and then go to the medic’s tent and ask for a bandage and some rags.” indeed they would need rags, currently there was blood streaming from the girls nose. Fionn stood up straight and saluted her like she was his commanding officer.

“Yes Ma’am.” before running out of the tent. Hopefully he wouldn’t get in any trouble on the way to the medic’s tent. She looked back down at the girl who was now lying on her lap, her head in Lythian’s arm. 

“I’m not gonna make it Mith Lithie, I-”  the girl was saying quietly and with complete sincerity, though her lisp ruined the affect. The girl behind her interjected again,

“Naesa stop being dramatic it's scaring Miss Lithie” 

“I’m not being dramatic!” the girl- Naesa- snapped, all weakness and pain gone from her voice. Lythian turned to the other girl still holding Naesa, and said

“And what pray tell is your name?” the girl puffed up her chest, 

“My name’s Sabia, I’m Vasa’s little sister.” The girl didn’t look even a little bit like the angry red head she’d seen the day before but she wasn’t about to ask more questions when Vasa, at least, had seemed like she didn’t like to talk about what happened before she joined the rebellion. Even if this girl didn’t seem to have the same sentiment. 

“Well it's nice to meet you Sabia, now, you said you wanted me to tell a story so what sort of story do you want to hear?” She might as well try to keep them entertained until Fionn got back, which would be soon, hopefully. 

The girl tapped her chin for a moment, seeming to think of something but before she could think of anything Naesa said something Lythain couldn’t decipher with the lisp and the blood but Sabia said, “How about Etain decides what the story’s about?” A small dark head of long hair popped up at the sound of her name.

“Me?” She was small and thin boned, maybe five or so, a thin sheet of dark hair covering her shoulders. And her voice was little more than a whisper. Naesa squirmed seemingly in protest but Sabia said, 

“Go ahead Etain, what sort of story do you want?” The girl worried her lip and spoke quietly as she said

“One with a happy ending.”