Disclaimer: I am putting this here to show that I cheated and stole cultures, characters, and well, everything, from Tamora Pierece's Tortall books.
Note: I take forever (procrastination + senioritis slugabeds), and I love cliffhangers (not really, but I'll try to be quick). This chapter is, admittedly, boring but I'm just introducing the characters. Yes, all the other charries (like Daine, Alanna, Numair, et al) will make appearances, I promise. As will all the action. Be gentle with comments if you do, tis a first fic.
About: This story is based off of a role-play character of mine, Leon Tegacis, on the role-playing site: http://s13. Later on, the story will become a joint authorization with Yamani Warrior, who, in a way, owns his wife.
A pair of dark haired children, one a boy and the other a girl, played enthusiastically in a mud puddle located in the back of their yard. The boy had unusual tiger-orange eyes, his hair thicker and ruddier then his female counterpart. Out of the two, the girl was by far the dirtier, and most responsible for the mud on the boy. Beneath the mud, the two could be marked as siblings, the structure of their faces being similar in every aspect. As the Tyran sun beat down through the cloudless day, the mud was already drying to their hair, and their source of the play object was running thin.
"Look, it's a flat cake!" The younger boy called out in Tyran to the female companion, palm raised and covered with mud.
"I made a mountain." The girl replied in the same language, leaning away from her slop of creation.
"I want to help!" The boy said, as he went over to plop the pile of mud onto his sibling's mountain. It was with a bit more force then needed, as his tiny hand imbedded itself into the side.
"Leon!" The girl exclaimed, telling her dislike and sadness in tone only to hear her giggling brother as he destroyed her artwork. The little boy knew that tone well, and with a strike of humor, he placed both wet, muddy, hands on his sister's face.
"Now it's on you, Phoebe." The girl couldn't be giggle as she mimicked her younger brother.
A clear voice sounded over the children's giggles from inside the home. "Leon! Phoebe! Get inside and clean up for lunch!" She was responded with a chorus of whines. The face a stern, but caring mother appeared in the doorway to the yard, her stomach fully swollen for the new child. "Now," She insisted, "You two are a mess!"
The two let out stifled giggles, before expressing their displeasure with a long groan. "Just a little longer?" Asked the girl, the orange-eyed boy putting on his best pouting face as they approached their mother.
"If you two weren't so dirty," –Leon and Phoebe giggled once more- "I would say yes. It make me until tomorrow to get you clean." As they both went to step inside the house, trying not to giggle, firm hands planted themselves on either shoulder of the children, stopping them. "You two are not tracking mud in my house; shoes off, and roll up your pants."
Phoebe was able to easily slid off both of her shoes, and roll up her pants, done with practiced ease as she stood on the doorstop. The mother had knelt down to assist Leon, sighing as she almost heard the dry mud falling off the boy's shoes and pants. Eagerly, the young boy bounced up, eyes dancing as he watched his mother stand up with a groan. "To the basin, both of you!" She stated, resting a hand on her belly with her brown eyes soft as she followed after the two children
The two children raced up to the washbasin, giggling as they pushed up against each other, and pounding up the stairs. The pregnant lady sighed wistfully, running her hand along her wavy, mahogany locks. Waddling after them, she grabbed a change of clothes for the two. Her eyes drifted upwards, due to the sound of a rump hitting the floor, and the giggles briefly ceasing. Moving towards the stairs, the woman looked up, an eyebrow shooting high. Complete weight relying on the railing, she ascended the stairs slowly, but surely.
Halfway up, the mother watched as her eldest daughter appeared at the top, hands and face clean for the most part. Lightly, the woman sighed, as the younger boy approached the top of the stairs. Both craned their necks up as their mother finally reached the top, offering them their clothes. "Here, I'm not going to let you two sit on any of my furniture with those bottoms." The children took the clean garments and shuffled to their rooms, hiding a smile. "And don't leave the clothes on the floor."
As the children vanished, the pregnant woman leaned against the wall, placing cool hands on her warm face. A soft smile crossed her face as she felt the child move within. The female found this both good and unnerving. Her last child had strangled itself on the umbilical cord during labor. That was two years, and she had been praying to the Goddess for a better birth. The lady hardly realized her expression had saddened, until her orange-eyes son was at her side, tugging on her sleeve.
"Ma, why are you sad?" He asked, looking up as she looked down, offering a gentle smile. There was a twinkle of amusement in her gaze at the backward shirt and crooked pants.
"I'm not sad, I promise." She told him, before easing into another subject. "Take your arms out, your shirt is on backwards, silly." Leon lightly giggled as he did what was asked, a large grin on his face. The mother switched the shirt around, accusing playfully, "You did it on purpose, huh?"
The boy nodded yes, grinning, before looking away as the sound hoof beats could be heard outside. Phoebe then appeared, a down expression on her face at the skirt and blouse she had been given. Her mother offered an encouraging smile, reaching out to pat the dark brown curls of her daughter. "Once you're an adult, I promise you can wear whatever you want." The mother stated truthfully, coaxing a small smile from the girl. They were interrupted as a low Tyran speaking voice called out.
"Francesca? Children?"
"Upstairs." The pregnant lady replied, and immediately a dark tanned man appeared, standing near six feet. His head was shaven, and his face strong and kind. A large smile was fitted on his appearance; arms wide to accept a greeting hug from Leon who had bolted down the stairs.
"Ah, hello, Leoninus!" He exclaimed, gathering Leon in his arms with a grunt effort, not once looking the child in the eyes. "Mithros, you're getting big. And how's my favorite, little, daughter?" Phoebe had joined them downstairs, the man slinging an arm around the girl's shoulders in a hug, who seemed to have forced a wide smile.
"Good, sir." She replied watching him as the man let Leon down, and walk up the stairs to where his wife had descended. As was ritual, they shared a kiss; Phoebe and Leon made faces in childish 'ew', before trying to slip away. Their father saw this, breaking away the kiss.
"Phoebe, Leon; why don't you two put Cinder up?" The man asked, not looking at them, but rather his weary wife. "Your mother and I will get lunch set up."
Francesca looked down at the kids who stared blankly at their father. Normally, they weren't allowed to do it alone, and the sudden change confused them. "Please?" The mother asked, leaning into her husband, ready to fall asleep in his arms.
Phoebe slowly nodded her head, linking her arm with her seven-year-old brother. Half pulling him along, the older girl looked focused in thought. Leon kept quiet, watching and following his sister as they made it to the shed. Inside, the neighing of the family horse, Cinder, could be heard. She was a tall horse, 16 hands, and it did not include when she raised her head up high. The mare was yet young, only 7, and was a common breed in Tyra. She was dark chestnut, with a lighter mane, and a blaze on her face.
The two children walked up to the draft, which nickered lightly. Gently, the horse nuzzled the two. Cinder's behavior had changed over the past week, ever since the Wildmage had been rumored to be in Tyra. Phoebe and Leon didn't mind, as it made it a bit easier to work with her, which pleased their father. And if it pleased him, the entire house was joyous, for it meant a lack of ranting against the horse. Phoebe took the initiative to start removing the cart, giving Leon instruction on what to do and hold.
"I think Pa knows something," Phoebe whispered to her brother as they worked, not noticing the horse was listening in as well. Leon looked up as the girl went on. "He never lets us do this." The boy then looked away, and shrugged; Phoebe took that as a sign to go on. "I don't even think he likes us that much."
The boy frowned, "Don't say that, it's not true."
"You know he's superstitious. I'm not the perfect girl, and you've orange eyes." Phoebe continued.
"Nothing wrong with them." Leon retorted.
"That's the thing. And he doesn't like the Gift. I heard Pa talking to Ma last night." She started, in a matter-of-fact tone. "Ma wanted to get you tested for the Gift, and let the hedge witch train you a bit. Pa got his temper up, saying the Gift isn't useful, and just turns men into cocky bast- humans. Ma reminded him that Cinder's been acting wonderfully since the Wildmage was in town. Pa got angrier, saying it was all him, and nothing was going to change his mind to let you trained, or even test."
Leon's mood had soured as he listened to his sister, wanting to tell her to shut up, and that it must've been a dream. Yet, Be never lied to him; she never had a reason to. Instead, he mumbled to the floor. "Don't mean he don't like me."
Phoebe looked across at Leon, wanting to take back her words, even though a voice reminded her that he was old enough to know that. Nor was she going to announce that might be wrong. In silence, they moved the cart away from Cinder. Within the silence, their father appeared in the shed, a giddy expression on his face.
"Ah children, hook her up again, your mother's about to have the baby." The father didn't seem to notice that Cinder had reached to try to bite his shirt as he rushed away. Phoebe and Leon felt smiles tug on their faces, yet Phoebe was a bit annoyed to have to reattach the cart to the mare.
Their father reappeared rather quickly, wife in his arms as he set her upon the hay. She looked ready to argue, but weariness kept her at bay. The tall man had shooed the two away, as he sloppily and quickly attached the harness. Fran waved the other two to be near her as she watched her husband, voice even. "Gio – slow down and do it right. I haven't had another contraction yet, and probably won't for another twenty minute's."
"No, you know what happened last time." He said, trying to get Cinder to comply with the bit, but the mare's head was too tall. Francesca wrapped her arms about the two children, her face hardened.
"I'd rather prefer not to die on the way there." She retorted, before going on, "If you are so concerned about a repeat, then why won't you consent to the hedge witch being present?" She questioned, a stubborn look in her eyes and her mouth set straight smugly. Both children shrunk against their mother, watching their father freeze and purse his lips. Slapping his wife for her outspokenness had crossed his mind, and as his eyes flickered coldly to Leon, he refrained himself. Cinder neighed loudly in the silence.
"Fine." He hissed quietly, before turning his anger to the horse, "Cinder, quit!" The mare snorted, ears folding against her skull as the equine stepped up, challenging him. "Step down, bitch."
Francesca clamped her hands over the surprised and frightened faces of the children. "Giovanni. Enough of that." She scolded, earning a weak glare from the man. As he went to reach up and bring Cinder's head down, the normally docile mare lipped at his arm, trying to bite it. The woman then interfered with a calm, and even, "Cindy, quit."
The tone was enough for both man and horse stop where they were, and both children winced; mother only was able to make her voice that calm after yelling if she was really angry. Gio was now able to slip the bit into the obedient draft horse. "Gentle breed, indeed." Gio growled, fixing a few things on the harness before stalking over to his wife; Leon cowered against his mothers form, and Be sat straighter with her own stubborn chin stuck out. "Children, get into the back." He ordered, with his voice strained from keeping his anger out of his tone. Obediently, the two went to the cart, Leon ducking and dodging away from his father. Francesca's mood worsened as she saw that, as her protective mother instincts took over.
The man himself felt a sting of pain as he watched Leon, but he disregarded the thoughts concerning the action. Looking down to his wife, he gathered the declining mood, but offered his large hands to help her off the hay. The light brown eyes of the female looked down on them, before using them to help get up. As she did so, a contraction rippled across her abdomen, catching the woman unawares, her knees buckling and bringing her to the ground.
Gio helped her up, supporting her under the arms and guided his wife to the back, not turning his gaze once to Be who held a withdrawn Leon in a hug. Once Francesca was settled, the man quickly moved to take a seat at the front, and cracking the whip loudly, horse and cart were off again. Francesca had taken the time to turn to her daughter and son, and upon seeing them, opened her arms up. Be nudged Leon, and automatically, the two occupied either side of their mother. Gently, the woman ran her fingers along Leon's hair, and rubbed Be's shoulders. Quietly, she covered their foreheads with affectionate kisses, whispering gently to them about happy things, and about what was to come. It had a calming affect on the kids, and it made the ride swifter then imagined.