Post by brendur on Oct 26, 2009 11:24:34 GMT -5
(( I was going through my old files and I came across this story that I wrote before I went on my break. I can't remember if I've posted it before, but as it's one of my favorites, and I can't find it in the forums ;D up it goes again. It takes place, by the by, when Brendur and Syfe were still wee ones.))
Occasionally, very occasionally, Brendur would forsake crime for the day and just fish. It didn't require much effort on his part, he could nap all day, no one would bother him, and if he did well his family would enjoy a nice fat carp for dinner. Today however, Ma Holst had sent Syfe with him, it was going to be another busy day thanks to his nights antics, and she didn't have time to point out every herb that she used to the curious little girl. So now, instead of her hundred and one questions being directed at her mother, her hundred and one questions, were directed at him.
"Whatcha doin?"
Brendur sighed and kept whittling the point into the stick. "M'about to go fishin."
"Doesn't look it." and it didn't, Brendur wasn't carving the traditional line and rod. Syfe's wide grey eyes were taking in this detail, completely fascinated by the simple branch that Brendur was turning into a type of crude spear.
"M'tryin somat new, an idea."
"Yer idea?"
"...Mebee."
Syfe frowned and chewed on one of her black locks, her half-brother had a tendency to bend the truth, often to the point where it resembled a corkscrew. In this case, she was right. His last trip out, Brendur had experienced a rather frustrating lack of bites on his line, in his frustration, he had broken his pole over his knee. Left with nothing to do but watch the lake and sulk, he had soon taken notice of a raven on the far end of the bank. The little bird would clack it's beak before performing a sort of shuffling dance on the shore of the lake, and then, with a flick of it's head it would toss a piece of grass out onto the surface of the pond and wait. When eventually a fish came to bite at the bait left for it, the raven would fly in and bat the fish to shore with wing, claw, and beak, where it was free to peck the meal to death. It was simply too good of an idea to leave all to the birds.
So, now, Brendur stood on the edge of the water with his trouser legs rolled up, and his toes wiggling in the mud of the lake. Not far from him a small piece of bread floated on the surface of the water. There was a telltale explosion in the silt at the bottom of the lake, something was going for the bread. As soon as the flash hit the top of the water, he stabbed out with the carved spear of wood, Syfe couldn't help but giggle at her brother's baffled expression when all that came out the water was the bare spear point. Again, and again the exercise was tried, with no success. Soon cawing joined Syfe's laughter, a raven perched on the branch above her, it's cries oddly echoing her tittering mirth, odder still was that it bore a strange resemblance to the raven that Brendur was trying to mimic. After his fifth try, Syfe toed the edge of the lake and called out to him.
"C'mon then! Lemme give it a try!"
"No! I can do it!"
"Ye keep doin it wrong though!"
"S'jest practice!"
"Practice at doin it WRONG!" she stomped her foot on the damp bank.
Something in how she said that just rubbed Brundur's fur the wrong way. "FINE!" sloshing up to the bank he tossed the wooden spear at her feet. "See iffin ye can do better!"
"I will." She said in that sickly sweet and self assured manner that was a trademark of the Holst women, it had spelled many a doom for men in past decades. Picking up the spear, she hiked her dress up about her legs with a bit of twine, she went out to the spot that her brother had been haunting, tossing a bit of bread to the same spot as he, and then stood stiller than the waters about her thighs. Before long, there was another flash on the water's surface, but when she thrust the spear there was a red foaming in the water. Brendurs temper flared from a frusrated pink to a blazing red as she pulled out one of the fattest carp he'd ever seen and strode up to the bank, practically walking on water with pride.
"There! Ye see?"
"Bah! Ye cheated."
"Didn't!"
"Did!"
"Didn't ye ninny! Ye was doin it wrong!" She popped the fish off the end and then thrust the spear into the water, Brendur blinked then frowned at what he saw. Beneath the water the spear seemed to bend upwards, his sister saw understanding dawn on his face and stuck her tongue out at him. "S'like Ma allus says, naer trust yer eyes!" she trod out the lake, and then poked him in the head to illustrate her point. It was then that he hit her. Then she hit him. Suddenly they were in the pond punching, pulling hair, smearing mud all over one another, fighting essentially as children fight, dirty. It wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last. They probobly would have gone on until they were too tired to fight one another, but for a pair of rough hands that grabbed them by their necks and forced them apart.
"By Smaug's broken back iffin there weren't someone around here to keep an eye on ye two ye'd tear one another to pieces afore long."
For a moment they tried to get back at tearing at one another, but the hands about their necks shook them soundly until the fight left their tightly wound frames, the action in itself clearly telling them that there would be no truck for nonsense. There wouldn't either, because Gregor, the owner of the pair of hands, was possibly the only sound pillar of discipline in their lives. Most of Lake-Town treated the siblings as a swarm of midge flies, to be slapped at occasionaly, but on the whole ignored. They were the price that Lake-Town paid to have a competant hedge healer on hand, and as long as Ma Holst kept everyone from falling to pieces, they could go about tearing the town apart. Except when it came to Gregor.
Captain of the gaurd for Lake-Town, he was one of the few men that would visit Ma Holst's home, and not spend the night. More often than not it was because he had the children in tow for some bit of recklessness they were responsible for. Brendur however began to suspect there was more to the ritual visits than met the eye. Gregor was a stout and fine example of Dalish men, with a strong grip and an even stronger set of principles, with no wife, he was closely followed by the eyes of every woman on the docks of Lake Town. All expect for Ma Holst. In the same room the two could raise a shouting match that was fabled to blast the roof of the Holst house, hence why it was always in need of repairs, for they both had set views on how one raises children, and makes a living. Eventually though their shouting would die down, Ma Holst would crisply invite him to stay for dinner, they would all sit at the table in some resemblance of a family, Gregor would then excuse himself using Ma Holst's first name, Moira, to thank her for the food.
While Brendur certainly didn't understand what this slew of insanity meant, he certainly picked up on the oddity that after, Ma Holst fell into a queer sort of sedation. She would get a slightly off smile on her features, and go about her chores in the house with a look that was miles into the distance. It was all very confusing, and was no doubt one of those games that adults liked to play under the excuse of "well that's just life". Truth be told though, he found himself often liking Gregor, despite his many hints to his mother that Brendur was approaching the appropriate age to join the Lake-Town gaurd. There was a sort of general honesty about Gregor that the other men in the village didn't possess, Gregor wasn't the least bit ashamed of himself, or what he had to do to keep peace in Lake-Town. Sure it was a nature that was in direct conflict with Brendur's mischevious plight, but Brendur enjoyed the verbal spar that oft resulted. The one that resulted of his scuffle with Syfe though, wasn't so much of a spar as it was a one sided brow beating.
"Can't believe the two oh ye." Gregor grunted as he rowed the long boat across the waters of the Long Lake, towards Ma Holst's lonely peat brick house on the shore."Fightin like a pair oh Hill-men oer a damn fish. I'd expect it iffin it was one oh the dock kids and either one oh ye, but brother and sister? World's gettin awful dim iffin that be the state oh things among children."
Brendur was still fuming about his humilation at the hands of his younger sister, things had been simpler when they were younger, all he had to do was keep an eye out for her, she'd toddle about and keep a hand in his belt loop. Now she kept wanting to prove she could do things better, or at least just as well as he could, worse still, sometimes she could. He lost track of what Gregor was saying as he watched his sister on the far end of the boat, clutching her catch to her despite the smell, as if it was the only thing proving her worth. He let himself stew in his self pity, it didn't do any good for him, but it was better than crying. As he stewed, he stopped thinking, and so the first thing that left his mouth was possibly the stupidest thing that could have.
"She's jest my half-sister."
The succession of things that happened afterward was something of a blurr, Brendur simply remembered being grabbed by the back of his belt, and then suddenly the black cold waters of Long Lake rushing at him head first. When he managed to untangle his clothes and right himself in the waters, all the while gasping and sputtering, he remembered two things, the way Syfe was crying and clutching that damn smelly fish, and the piercing look of resolute authority that Gregor fixed him with from the bow of the boat. He kept Brendur from grabbing the edge of the boat with a few well placed prods of his oar handle, speaking in a voice that would have caused Brendur to stand at attention if he had solid ground to do it on.
"There may not be much I can get through that thick skull of yers boy, but by the time our paths have parted ye will have learned this. Whether he is a pauper, farmer, or king, a man rests only as easy as his family. Yer her brother, and ye WILL look after her, no matter what."
Hurdrin reached down dunking the boy under the water before bodily lifting him back onto the boat and twisting him about so that once again he had to look Gregor in the eye.
"Ye understand?"
Brendur, found himself able to only shiver and nod, which seemed to be enough for Gregor. Nodding once the captain of the gaurd went back to rowing, a silence with the fragility of crystal settling over the trio as the peat brick house came into view from the distance.
Occasionally, very occasionally, Brendur would forsake crime for the day and just fish. It didn't require much effort on his part, he could nap all day, no one would bother him, and if he did well his family would enjoy a nice fat carp for dinner. Today however, Ma Holst had sent Syfe with him, it was going to be another busy day thanks to his nights antics, and she didn't have time to point out every herb that she used to the curious little girl. So now, instead of her hundred and one questions being directed at her mother, her hundred and one questions, were directed at him.
"Whatcha doin?"
Brendur sighed and kept whittling the point into the stick. "M'about to go fishin."
"Doesn't look it." and it didn't, Brendur wasn't carving the traditional line and rod. Syfe's wide grey eyes were taking in this detail, completely fascinated by the simple branch that Brendur was turning into a type of crude spear.
"M'tryin somat new, an idea."
"Yer idea?"
"...Mebee."
Syfe frowned and chewed on one of her black locks, her half-brother had a tendency to bend the truth, often to the point where it resembled a corkscrew. In this case, she was right. His last trip out, Brendur had experienced a rather frustrating lack of bites on his line, in his frustration, he had broken his pole over his knee. Left with nothing to do but watch the lake and sulk, he had soon taken notice of a raven on the far end of the bank. The little bird would clack it's beak before performing a sort of shuffling dance on the shore of the lake, and then, with a flick of it's head it would toss a piece of grass out onto the surface of the pond and wait. When eventually a fish came to bite at the bait left for it, the raven would fly in and bat the fish to shore with wing, claw, and beak, where it was free to peck the meal to death. It was simply too good of an idea to leave all to the birds.
So, now, Brendur stood on the edge of the water with his trouser legs rolled up, and his toes wiggling in the mud of the lake. Not far from him a small piece of bread floated on the surface of the water. There was a telltale explosion in the silt at the bottom of the lake, something was going for the bread. As soon as the flash hit the top of the water, he stabbed out with the carved spear of wood, Syfe couldn't help but giggle at her brother's baffled expression when all that came out the water was the bare spear point. Again, and again the exercise was tried, with no success. Soon cawing joined Syfe's laughter, a raven perched on the branch above her, it's cries oddly echoing her tittering mirth, odder still was that it bore a strange resemblance to the raven that Brendur was trying to mimic. After his fifth try, Syfe toed the edge of the lake and called out to him.
"C'mon then! Lemme give it a try!"
"No! I can do it!"
"Ye keep doin it wrong though!"
"S'jest practice!"
"Practice at doin it WRONG!" she stomped her foot on the damp bank.
Something in how she said that just rubbed Brundur's fur the wrong way. "FINE!" sloshing up to the bank he tossed the wooden spear at her feet. "See iffin ye can do better!"
"I will." She said in that sickly sweet and self assured manner that was a trademark of the Holst women, it had spelled many a doom for men in past decades. Picking up the spear, she hiked her dress up about her legs with a bit of twine, she went out to the spot that her brother had been haunting, tossing a bit of bread to the same spot as he, and then stood stiller than the waters about her thighs. Before long, there was another flash on the water's surface, but when she thrust the spear there was a red foaming in the water. Brendurs temper flared from a frusrated pink to a blazing red as she pulled out one of the fattest carp he'd ever seen and strode up to the bank, practically walking on water with pride.
"There! Ye see?"
"Bah! Ye cheated."
"Didn't!"
"Did!"
"Didn't ye ninny! Ye was doin it wrong!" She popped the fish off the end and then thrust the spear into the water, Brendur blinked then frowned at what he saw. Beneath the water the spear seemed to bend upwards, his sister saw understanding dawn on his face and stuck her tongue out at him. "S'like Ma allus says, naer trust yer eyes!" she trod out the lake, and then poked him in the head to illustrate her point. It was then that he hit her. Then she hit him. Suddenly they were in the pond punching, pulling hair, smearing mud all over one another, fighting essentially as children fight, dirty. It wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last. They probobly would have gone on until they were too tired to fight one another, but for a pair of rough hands that grabbed them by their necks and forced them apart.
"By Smaug's broken back iffin there weren't someone around here to keep an eye on ye two ye'd tear one another to pieces afore long."
For a moment they tried to get back at tearing at one another, but the hands about their necks shook them soundly until the fight left their tightly wound frames, the action in itself clearly telling them that there would be no truck for nonsense. There wouldn't either, because Gregor, the owner of the pair of hands, was possibly the only sound pillar of discipline in their lives. Most of Lake-Town treated the siblings as a swarm of midge flies, to be slapped at occasionaly, but on the whole ignored. They were the price that Lake-Town paid to have a competant hedge healer on hand, and as long as Ma Holst kept everyone from falling to pieces, they could go about tearing the town apart. Except when it came to Gregor.
Captain of the gaurd for Lake-Town, he was one of the few men that would visit Ma Holst's home, and not spend the night. More often than not it was because he had the children in tow for some bit of recklessness they were responsible for. Brendur however began to suspect there was more to the ritual visits than met the eye. Gregor was a stout and fine example of Dalish men, with a strong grip and an even stronger set of principles, with no wife, he was closely followed by the eyes of every woman on the docks of Lake Town. All expect for Ma Holst. In the same room the two could raise a shouting match that was fabled to blast the roof of the Holst house, hence why it was always in need of repairs, for they both had set views on how one raises children, and makes a living. Eventually though their shouting would die down, Ma Holst would crisply invite him to stay for dinner, they would all sit at the table in some resemblance of a family, Gregor would then excuse himself using Ma Holst's first name, Moira, to thank her for the food.
While Brendur certainly didn't understand what this slew of insanity meant, he certainly picked up on the oddity that after, Ma Holst fell into a queer sort of sedation. She would get a slightly off smile on her features, and go about her chores in the house with a look that was miles into the distance. It was all very confusing, and was no doubt one of those games that adults liked to play under the excuse of "well that's just life". Truth be told though, he found himself often liking Gregor, despite his many hints to his mother that Brendur was approaching the appropriate age to join the Lake-Town gaurd. There was a sort of general honesty about Gregor that the other men in the village didn't possess, Gregor wasn't the least bit ashamed of himself, or what he had to do to keep peace in Lake-Town. Sure it was a nature that was in direct conflict with Brendur's mischevious plight, but Brendur enjoyed the verbal spar that oft resulted. The one that resulted of his scuffle with Syfe though, wasn't so much of a spar as it was a one sided brow beating.
"Can't believe the two oh ye." Gregor grunted as he rowed the long boat across the waters of the Long Lake, towards Ma Holst's lonely peat brick house on the shore."Fightin like a pair oh Hill-men oer a damn fish. I'd expect it iffin it was one oh the dock kids and either one oh ye, but brother and sister? World's gettin awful dim iffin that be the state oh things among children."
Brendur was still fuming about his humilation at the hands of his younger sister, things had been simpler when they were younger, all he had to do was keep an eye out for her, she'd toddle about and keep a hand in his belt loop. Now she kept wanting to prove she could do things better, or at least just as well as he could, worse still, sometimes she could. He lost track of what Gregor was saying as he watched his sister on the far end of the boat, clutching her catch to her despite the smell, as if it was the only thing proving her worth. He let himself stew in his self pity, it didn't do any good for him, but it was better than crying. As he stewed, he stopped thinking, and so the first thing that left his mouth was possibly the stupidest thing that could have.
"She's jest my half-sister."
The succession of things that happened afterward was something of a blurr, Brendur simply remembered being grabbed by the back of his belt, and then suddenly the black cold waters of Long Lake rushing at him head first. When he managed to untangle his clothes and right himself in the waters, all the while gasping and sputtering, he remembered two things, the way Syfe was crying and clutching that damn smelly fish, and the piercing look of resolute authority that Gregor fixed him with from the bow of the boat. He kept Brendur from grabbing the edge of the boat with a few well placed prods of his oar handle, speaking in a voice that would have caused Brendur to stand at attention if he had solid ground to do it on.
"There may not be much I can get through that thick skull of yers boy, but by the time our paths have parted ye will have learned this. Whether he is a pauper, farmer, or king, a man rests only as easy as his family. Yer her brother, and ye WILL look after her, no matter what."
Hurdrin reached down dunking the boy under the water before bodily lifting him back onto the boat and twisting him about so that once again he had to look Gregor in the eye.
"Ye understand?"
Brendur, found himself able to only shiver and nod, which seemed to be enough for Gregor. Nodding once the captain of the gaurd went back to rowing, a silence with the fragility of crystal settling over the trio as the peat brick house came into view from the distance.