Ice Island 2
Title: Ice Island pt. 2
Words: 1153
Rating: PG
The doors to the library flew open again, the wood slamming against the walls. Arthur was not nearly so startled this time, glancing up from his work with a disdainful look. His half-brothers had arrived, pitifully predictable for fae. They were twins, only a little older than him at 200 years old. Yet they were far larger than the small faeling by far, towering over him at the height of a deer, whereas he felt only half as such. They had their father's looks to them with their ruddy red hair, blue eyes and freckled faces. They also had their father's mean disposition and haughty attitude.
"What's this? Still studying? Are you really that stupid?" Daragh mocked, wrenching the book out from under the faeling's nose. He passed it onto Cian, who glanced at it briefly before tossing the book to the floor. Arthur ignored them, eyes focused on the parchment in front of him, concentrating on finishing his runes. His frail tutor merely stood by in silence, weak and impotent.
Unsatisfied at the response, Daragh knocked the inkwell over, casting the black ink all over the table and running over the faeling's sleeve and his work. "Oops, clumsy me," he said lightly, smiling at the faeling's glower while the tutor rushed to mop up the spilling ink. Arthur stood up, ink dripping from his hands like blood, glaring up at his twin elder brothers.
"Ooh, scary~" Cian mocked from over his twin's shoulder. Yet he did not meet Arthur's eyes. No one ever did.
The faeling held out an arm and the twins stiffened as though the 75 year old was about to unleash a powerful hex at them. His small arm whipped and black ink splattered over their faces and into their eyes. Daragh cried out, covering his blue eyes, while Cian's pale face grew alight with indignation.
"You little shit!" he hissed, baring his sharp Unseelie teeth. His hand lashed out, grabbing the faeling by the neck, lifting him fingers digging into his neck as he began to choke him. Arthur felt the very breath stolen from his lips, his lungs burning and his vision swimming as his thoughts muddied like a puddle in a storm.
"Young Master, please!" his aged tutor implored, finally breaking his silence.
"Young Master, please~!" Daragh mocked, though his still winced through his tender eyes. It was getting harder to hear them now, too hard to distinguish voices over the screeching buzzing in his mind as his vision slowly began to blacken.
"What in Umbra's name is going on!"
The breath suddenly washed back into the faeling's lungs as Arthur fell to the floor in an ungraceful heap. He gingerly clutched at his throat, rasping for breath. He felt a large hand on his back, coaxing the breath back into him, pulling him back over to his chair to sit. All the young faeling saw as he looked up was the whirl of a black woolen cape, his rescuer turning to reprimand the twins.
"You attack our brother in broad moonlight, you little fools!" the fae roared at the boys who cowered away from him, eyes wide with terror and a negligible amount of guilt. "Keep away from him and don't you dare ever step foot back in this library!" The twins nodded, scampering off out of the two-storied room with not so much as a whimper.
Arthur managed to catch his breath enough to lean heavily against the back of his chair. His tutor stooped to check him over, but he waved the old fae away. Instead his green eyes fell on the black caped fae, recognizing him now that his thoughts were not so muddied.
Baird, eldest of all his half-brothers, older even than Arthur's own father. He was known as Crow, for his black garb and the ragged woolen cape always draped about his shoulders. He had Lady Annowre's looks, her lean strength and sharp features from her high cheek bones to her pointed chin. He also had the long hair, black as obsidian that curled at the edges around his knife-like ears and brushing his shoulders. The only thing he lacked were the eyes, the pale yellow of a wolf's eyes.
However, of all of Arthur's brothers, he was the most gentle to him. He treated the small faeling with the respect due to one of his peers rather than a boy just out of infancy for which Arthur was ever grateful.
Crow reached out with a gloved hand, the supple leather touching the bruises that marked the young boy's pale skin. His high-collar hid most of the damage, but blue crept up from underneath it as though the black stained his skin. "Oh Art," he sighed as he dismissed the tutor with a wordless wave. "You need to learn to not goad your brothers. Now come, we'll have Ilywen to look at your bruises before our Lady Mother sees them."
Arthur nodded and slipped down from his chair to trail after his eldest brother. They exited the library, coming out into the vast hallway that towered above them, huge windows on one side of the hall letting the moonlight pour into the hall of black slate. Their feet did not make a sound over the red and silver runner that ran down the length of the slate tiles, the only splash of color in the black and white castle. Even its red seemed dull and muted, lifeless.
A servant in gray passed by, pushing a food cart towards the Knight Wing. She balked on sight of the heir, head dropping to bow deeply to the pair as they passed by. She seemed to shiver when Arthur passed within an arm of her. "Milords," she rasped weakly, remaining bowed even as the two turned a corner.
"Only 75 and you already frighten the whole House," Crow remarked with an amused smirk as they rounded up a spiral stair. "I cannot imagine how much you'll terrorize them when you finally learn to talk." Arthur stayed silent, which only seemed to entertain his elder brother more as he chuckled. "You'll be as powerful as our Lady Mother, I know it. Everyone else knows it as well. That is why they try to break you."
Crow's expression grew grim as they rounded up into the steward's hall where the physician kept his quarters. They came to the familiar wooden door, one that Arthur knew so well already despite being so young. "Art," his brother said, looking down at him. "You will be safer so long as you do not speak. Try to hold off for as long as possible. For your own sake." He did not meet Arthur's eyes.
The small faeling stood at the foot of the door, considering his brother's words. Slowly, he nodded. The relief in Crow was nearly palpable as he smiled and held open the door for the heir.
Words: 1153
Rating: PG
The doors to the library flew open again, the wood slamming against the walls. Arthur was not nearly so startled this time, glancing up from his work with a disdainful look. His half-brothers had arrived, pitifully predictable for fae. They were twins, only a little older than him at 200 years old. Yet they were far larger than the small faeling by far, towering over him at the height of a deer, whereas he felt only half as such. They had their father's looks to them with their ruddy red hair, blue eyes and freckled faces. They also had their father's mean disposition and haughty attitude.
"What's this? Still studying? Are you really that stupid?" Daragh mocked, wrenching the book out from under the faeling's nose. He passed it onto Cian, who glanced at it briefly before tossing the book to the floor. Arthur ignored them, eyes focused on the parchment in front of him, concentrating on finishing his runes. His frail tutor merely stood by in silence, weak and impotent.
Unsatisfied at the response, Daragh knocked the inkwell over, casting the black ink all over the table and running over the faeling's sleeve and his work. "Oops, clumsy me," he said lightly, smiling at the faeling's glower while the tutor rushed to mop up the spilling ink. Arthur stood up, ink dripping from his hands like blood, glaring up at his twin elder brothers.
"Ooh, scary~" Cian mocked from over his twin's shoulder. Yet he did not meet Arthur's eyes. No one ever did.
The faeling held out an arm and the twins stiffened as though the 75 year old was about to unleash a powerful hex at them. His small arm whipped and black ink splattered over their faces and into their eyes. Daragh cried out, covering his blue eyes, while Cian's pale face grew alight with indignation.
"You little shit!" he hissed, baring his sharp Unseelie teeth. His hand lashed out, grabbing the faeling by the neck, lifting him fingers digging into his neck as he began to choke him. Arthur felt the very breath stolen from his lips, his lungs burning and his vision swimming as his thoughts muddied like a puddle in a storm.
"Young Master, please!" his aged tutor implored, finally breaking his silence.
"Young Master, please~!" Daragh mocked, though his still winced through his tender eyes. It was getting harder to hear them now, too hard to distinguish voices over the screeching buzzing in his mind as his vision slowly began to blacken.
"What in Umbra's name is going on!"
The breath suddenly washed back into the faeling's lungs as Arthur fell to the floor in an ungraceful heap. He gingerly clutched at his throat, rasping for breath. He felt a large hand on his back, coaxing the breath back into him, pulling him back over to his chair to sit. All the young faeling saw as he looked up was the whirl of a black woolen cape, his rescuer turning to reprimand the twins.
"You attack our brother in broad moonlight, you little fools!" the fae roared at the boys who cowered away from him, eyes wide with terror and a negligible amount of guilt. "Keep away from him and don't you dare ever step foot back in this library!" The twins nodded, scampering off out of the two-storied room with not so much as a whimper.
Arthur managed to catch his breath enough to lean heavily against the back of his chair. His tutor stooped to check him over, but he waved the old fae away. Instead his green eyes fell on the black caped fae, recognizing him now that his thoughts were not so muddied.
Baird, eldest of all his half-brothers, older even than Arthur's own father. He was known as Crow, for his black garb and the ragged woolen cape always draped about his shoulders. He had Lady Annowre's looks, her lean strength and sharp features from her high cheek bones to her pointed chin. He also had the long hair, black as obsidian that curled at the edges around his knife-like ears and brushing his shoulders. The only thing he lacked were the eyes, the pale yellow of a wolf's eyes.
However, of all of Arthur's brothers, he was the most gentle to him. He treated the small faeling with the respect due to one of his peers rather than a boy just out of infancy for which Arthur was ever grateful.
Crow reached out with a gloved hand, the supple leather touching the bruises that marked the young boy's pale skin. His high-collar hid most of the damage, but blue crept up from underneath it as though the black stained his skin. "Oh Art," he sighed as he dismissed the tutor with a wordless wave. "You need to learn to not goad your brothers. Now come, we'll have Ilywen to look at your bruises before our Lady Mother sees them."
Arthur nodded and slipped down from his chair to trail after his eldest brother. They exited the library, coming out into the vast hallway that towered above them, huge windows on one side of the hall letting the moonlight pour into the hall of black slate. Their feet did not make a sound over the red and silver runner that ran down the length of the slate tiles, the only splash of color in the black and white castle. Even its red seemed dull and muted, lifeless.
A servant in gray passed by, pushing a food cart towards the Knight Wing. She balked on sight of the heir, head dropping to bow deeply to the pair as they passed by. She seemed to shiver when Arthur passed within an arm of her. "Milords," she rasped weakly, remaining bowed even as the two turned a corner.
"Only 75 and you already frighten the whole House," Crow remarked with an amused smirk as they rounded up a spiral stair. "I cannot imagine how much you'll terrorize them when you finally learn to talk." Arthur stayed silent, which only seemed to entertain his elder brother more as he chuckled. "You'll be as powerful as our Lady Mother, I know it. Everyone else knows it as well. That is why they try to break you."
Crow's expression grew grim as they rounded up into the steward's hall where the physician kept his quarters. They came to the familiar wooden door, one that Arthur knew so well already despite being so young. "Art," his brother said, looking down at him. "You will be safer so long as you do not speak. Try to hold off for as long as possible. For your own sake." He did not meet Arthur's eyes.
The small faeling stood at the foot of the door, considering his brother's words. Slowly, he nodded. The relief in Crow was nearly palpable as he smiled and held open the door for the heir.