Greetings! I've written this story as I have at the moment, no access to any of my current ones. Its set in a much earlier time zone, like, the 1800's or something, and based on England, where I live, but the world is that of my own creation. I'm not really sure how to describe it. Naturally as this is me there will be a happy mix of romance angst and well... all kinds of things.
This is Yaoi, you guys should know that by now, lol, what else do I write? And, well, not exactly decided on the pairings yet, they will come with time.
I really hope you like this story, as one day I may re-write it as a novel, its really fun to write!
Ah well, enough blah from me, I hope you enjoy the chappie.
My Fairytale.
Chapter One.
A golden ray of sunlight poured in through a partially open window onto the face of the small blonde boy who was curled up in his bed. His patchwork quilt was drawn up about his shoulders and his mouth was slightly open. Curled up on the pillow one small pale hand twitched as the lad dreamed a simple dream. His name was Quatre Winters. He was seven years old and he was thought by most to be the sweetest little boy in the village of Lakewood.
"Quatre!"
At the call from downstairs the young lads clear blue eyes slowly opened, but not for long. He pulled a face and tucked his head firmly under the covers.
After a few minutes the voice from below summoned him again.
"Quatre! Honey! You need to get up; I have some errands I need you to run for me on the way home from lessons today! And I know you don't want to be late!"
With a sigh Quatre pushed the quilt off him and flicked his legs over the side of the bed, his mother was right; he didn't want to be late.
"I'm Up Mother!" His voice was very light and soft, set at just the right pitch so that all he said sounded pretty and completely sincere, which thankfully it usually was.
For a child of seven he was very small, that was abundantly clear, with thin limbs and an equally thin torso, but then, he was still young, so it was highly likely that he would grow, and not every one is meant to be broad and tall.
With a little bounce the young blonde hopped off the bed and onto his feet, his long rough cotton nightgown falling just below his ankles. With a slight spring to his step and a smile on his rosy lips, he made his way across the room and over to the small washbasin set on a low table by the widow. Once there he proceeded to wash his face and neck, not forgetting to wash behind his ears. His next port of call was the large rocking chair in the corner of his room where his mother had laid the day's clothes out for him earlier that morning.
His undergarment was obviously the first article to be placed upon his person, followed quickly by a pair of off-black legging style trousers that were slightly too big and thus required the use of a cow-hide belt that he had been given on his last birthday by Farmer Simmons. A white cotton shirt was last to be pulled on before the youth, dragging his fingers through his thick blonde hair scampered out of his bedroom, a moderately sized sunny room, and down the stirs.
The staircase was finely carpeted in dark red, and the walls were covered in a light cream paper. The banisters were finest oak wood, over the top, one might this for an inn in such a small town, but such furnishings were only proper in one of the many 'Kings Head Inns' that were set about the country.
This particular inn was set on the edge of a small town called Lakewood, a mere mile or so from the road that would lead you to the capital, the Capital Road funnily enough. A day and a half's riding to the west would bring you to the bridge crossing that would take you onto the City settlement of Port Roudaberg, the main Port of Serintia, and seven days ride to the North east, following the Capital Road exactly, would take you to Serrindor, the capital of Serintia.
Port Roudaberg was by far the largest settlement in the country, but when it same to defendable fortifications, Serrindor was far it's superior. Set on a hill and surrounded by very think and exceedingly high stone walls the town was next to impenetrable, a daunting task for any invading army seeking to do harm to the Serintian royal family, especially as once they had scaled the city walls they had the wall surrounding the castle and the castle itself to get through.
As spectacular as the visitors to Lakewood made things sound, all this talk of Ports and Cities meant little or nothing to the people of Lakewood, for few among their number had ever even ventured to the river crossing, let alone to the capital or the port itself. The only news they ever heard of these far reaches of the world, which, in all honesty were really not all that far away, came from the travelling minstrels and craftsmen that stopped off at this small village one their journeys from Serrindor and Port Roudaberg.
Occasionally travellers from further a field would stop off at Lakewood, and sometimes even people from other lands. This was not as exciting as it would have been expected to be however, for there were a number of people in Lakewood who, when they had first arrived, had most certainly not been residents of Serintia.
Lakewood and 'The Kings Head Inn' in particular, were more or less Quatres whole world. His family owned and ran the Inn. His father, one Mr Robbert Winters was the main proprietor, with his wife Matilda Winters, Quatres mother, helping to keep the rooms clean and tidy, with the assistance of Both Quatre when he wasn't quick enough to escape, and the chambermaid Polly. Quatre also worked out in the stables when he wasn't required to be at his lessons, taking care of the two horses his family owned, and any that might belong to guests at the Inn.
He was however, spared both these tasks today by the necessity of lessons, and his mothers list of errands for him.
After pausing for a few moments in the hallway to pull back and tie off the fine red drapes, chosen especially to match the carpet, he half skipped into the kitchen where he knew his mother would be, and squealed.
As soon as he had stepped through the door he had been seized and swept off his feet by a pair of strong arms. Surprise reigned for a few moments before he began to laugh
"Papa! Stoppit!"
The motion stopped and he felt his feet set back on the ground, where he peered up into the worn face of his father, whose dull green eyes were looking down at him in a slightly crooked and crinkled smile.
His father, Robbert Winters chuckled and curled his arm around his wife "You have lessons today, don't you Quatre?" he asked his young son.
"Yes sir!" The blonde replied "Arithmetic and writing today!" he was always enthusiastic about his learning, because he knew it made his parents happy.
As expected they both smiled, and his father said "We'll have to test that arithmetic tonight then, run along now...."
Quatre smiled, nodded, and was about to oblige when his mother called him back, moved over to the large kitchen worktop to collect something. Her dark red dress-skirt caught slightly on a chair leg as she turned and crossed the room to crouch down in front of him.
Tucking a wisp of shoulder length black hair behind her ear she smiled a little at her son, her soft doe like brown eyes creasing at the edges just as her husbands had, showing they had both smiled much through their lives....
"These are the errands I need you to run for me dear..." He looked into her face and touched her cheek with his hand.
"Okay Mother."
She smiled and touched his hand briefly, offering him the piece of paper as she did. "Thank you Quatre." She ran her fingers through his hair a few times, trying to comb it into some semblance of neatness before kissing him on the cheek. "Run a long now love,"
He nodded and gave his mother a quick kiss on the cheek in return. That task completed, he smiled took the offered list and scampered out of the kitchen, one hand flying out to seize his small leather shoulder bag as he did so.
After leaving the kitchen and neatly closing the door behind him he passed out into the main hall. After a short walk down this carpeted corridor he walked through a large doorway on the left hand side of the staircase and into the taproom of the inn.
It was a very large room; the floor was wooden rather than carpeted and the far end of was almost totally used up by a large wooden bar, and shelves containing bottles and barrels. Quatre didn't pretend to understand why so many grownups liked to spend their time in here.... the few times he had managed to taste one or other of the drinks they had made him feel rather ill.
He walked out of the taproom and into the Inn yard; this was a place he much preferred, so long as it wasn't raining.... To his right, a squat square building housed the baths, and to his left a long low rectangular building and a wooden shed made up the stable block. He could hear the soft whickering of their two mares, Clover and Dandelion. And also the stamping of a chestnut gelding whom the one guest at the inn owned.
With a last look around him, and a glance up at the sky, to make sure it wasn't about to start raining on him, Quatre moved at his customary half skip across the Inn yard, and out of the gate.
Opposite the gate into the Inn yard was a large expanse of land all planted up with a crop of potatoes. This particular field and three or four more like it all belonged to Farmer Andrew Forrester, the head of one of the three farming families who had land on the outskirts of Lakewood. Andrew Forrester lived up in the large farmhouse with his wife Sylvia Forrester, and their son Jed, who Quatre would see later that day in his lessons. On the whole Quatre was rather fond of the Forrester's.
The Inn was set on the main street into and out of the small town, and, in case of passing traps carts or carriages, Quatre kept to the verge as he made his way towards the town square. He had always thought this name a little daft, as the centre of Lakewood was more a squashed oval shape than a square, but he supposed it didn't really matter all that much.
As he neared the square, a woman standing outside a medium sized building bearing a sign with a needle and thread emblazoned on it, caught his eye and waved to him.
"Good Morning Quatre!"
He smiled and waved back "Hello Mrs Catalonia!"
The woman smiled again, one hand absently patting her bun of dark blonde hair "Could you let your mother know that I finished her new skirt for her please Quatre?"
The small blonde smiled "I'll pick it up from you on the way back from lessons!" He proclaimed, nearly out of hearing now.
The woman nodded and waved to him again. Cara Catalonia was the village seamstress, a skilled woman whose daughter had lessons in the class above Quatre, but who he knew none the less. Cara, her husband Keron and their daughter Dorothy lived in comfort above the small shop, and Quatre had spent many a day there during his earlier childhood seeing as Dorothy's mother had often acted as his babysitter. Set behind the Catalonia's was a slightly smaller building where Ms Speiker lived, she was a weaver, often found to be working with Cara, and her daughter Hilde was one of Dorothy's closest friends.
Waving to Farmer Simmons, who was rolling out of the town square on his horse drawn Trap as Quatre entered it, the blonde made his way over to the back entrance of the village general store, where, after rapping on the wooden door twice he stopped and flopped against the wall, letting his eyes glance about him.
From here he could see the farm track leading up round the back of his own home, the Inn and off towards the Forrester's. On the opposite side of the track to the inn he could see Arthur Black's house. Arthur Black was the highly ironically named chimney sweep, and he lived in a small ivy covered cottage with his lad Jimmy, who was probably already at the schoolhouse.
Just behind the sweeps cottage lived one of the families that Quatre did not know very well. The woodsman Zachariah Kushrenada and his nineteen year old Son Treize. They spent more time up at the manor house than they did with the people of the town, and seeing as Treize never attended lessons at the local school house, it was presumed that he either had lessons with the Lords children, or, as was more commonly thought, he was sent away to a boarding school in one of the larger towns, maybe even the capital. It was common knowledge you see, that Zachariah had his fingers fairly deep in the lord of the manors purse.
A wave from just across the square caused Quatres eyes to lift from the list he had just begun to peruse, and his hand to wave in greeting as the town Thatcher, one Daven Brown had stuck his head out of his window to greet the small boy
"Wotcher Quatre, could ya tell yer ol' dad I'll be over ta fix tha' leaky stable for 'im tomorra?"
Quatre, of course, nodded and smiled, one of his tasks had been to find the Thatcher and ask him about that very thing, but he wouldn't have to do that now. Davens cottage was generally well looked after, but Quatre had heard his mother describe it as in need of a woman's touch. When, however, he had suggested that she herself should help Daven, she had gone off into peals of silvery laughter, and his father had told him that suggesting that sort of thing was highly improper.
He still didn't really understand what he had said that was so funny, but it had long since stopped bothering him.
Off up the Manor road, Quatre could hear the church bells toll the half hour, telling him that if he didn't leave fairly soon he would be late for his lessons, not something that he really wanted it he was honest, as nice as the School Mistresses where, they were not very tolerant of lateness, particularly the headmistress.
He was just about to turn and rap on the back door of the store again; having tucked his list in his pocket, when he heard the squeaky creak of it opening, and two familiar people stepped out.
Wufei Chang and Heero Yuy. Two of Quatres closest friends. Wufei and his father had moved to Lakewood sometime during the year in which Quatre had been born, and so he had known Wufei, through he was four years Quatres senior, all through his childhood. Heero, who was only two years older than Quatre had arrived in the town three years after Wufei, and had spent some time staying up with the elderly couple the May's on their dairy farm. He had however, apparently been too much of a hand full for them, and thus he had come to live with Wufei and his father, where he seemed to be perfectly happy.
Both Wufei and Heero clearly had some foreign blood in their veins, for their skin was a more golden colour than that of the other, and their eyes were an exotic almond shape. Though, it has to be said that this trait was a lot clearer in Wufei than in Heero. Either way they had both accepted easily into the community. Even though no one really knew from where Heero had come from in any sense of the word. He had just.... appeared in the small town all alone one day, and no one had ever thought to make him leave.
Quatre beamed at the pair "Hello Heero! Hello Wufei!"
They both nodded to him, "Duo here yet?" Heero asked, glancing around as if worried he was going to be attacked at any moment, yet managing to keep his expression unconcerned.
The small blonde shook his head. "No, not yet. But we'll have to go soon.... The church bell sounded about five minutes ago.... I don't want to be late.... As nice as Lady Parke is, she scares me when she's cross."
Wufei nodded his agreement, absently patting Quatre on the shoulder in some small gesture of reassurance while Heero muttered something under his breath that sounded a little like donkey headed potato brain.... not that Quatre had any idea what that might mean. Sometimes his friends confused him.
Behind him, through the slightly open door, Quatre could hear the hustle and bustle of the General store starting up for the day. There was the deep slanting voice of Wufei's father, and the lighter more gentle voice of Suzette Rose, the young woman who worked with him. The building was larger than most around it and set bang in the centre of the Town square. It was rectangular and had a very finely thatched roof. There were a small set of steps at the front that led up to the finely carved door. And there were five or six widows letting light into the store. Set all about the walls.
The second floor was devoted to living quarters, and there was a basement cellar where Mr Chang stored all the wares that were not to be on sale that day.
Quatre looked up at both his friends as they waited there. They both looked stern. He wondered for a moment if he'd look that way when he was as old as them, he wasn't really sure if he would or not, but he didn't think so.... Heero was looking along the Manor road toward the church; the direction from which they all knew Duo would come from shortly. His eyes were a dark blue, and his hair was brown and mussy. At nine years old he stood about a head above Quatre. Wufei was eleven, and already took life very seriously. He wouldn't be at the small school for very much longer, and his father had been grooming him to take over some of the work in the store. He had black hair, and eyes almost the same shade. They both wore clothes very similar to Quatres, worn leggings in dark shades, and cotton shirts of either bleached or unbleached fabric.
A shout from manor road caused them all to blink to their right; a smallish boy with a long tail of chestnut hair was streaking down the road toward them. Prudently, they all stepped out the way; well, at least they had all stepped out of the way until the last minute when Heero, smirking slightly nudged Quatre directly into the path of the oncoming boy. They collided, and both went tumbling across the square. Heero looked amused, Wufei looked serious, Quatre blinked, a hand to his cheek and the boy with the long tail of hair looked cross
"Heero!! That wasn't very nice! You know Quat's the smallest I was aiming you for you ya big lump!"
Quatre couldn't help but smile, despite the pain in his cheek as his friend offered him a hand to help him to his feet. It had only been a small bump from Duo's shoulder, it might bruise, but his friend had at least partially cushioned his fall.
"Sorry Quat..." Duo mumbled. A small graze now showing up on his cheek, and a small cut on his right knee, he didn't even seem to notice.
"It's okay Duo." Quatre replied with a smile "It hurt worse when you knocked me over the fence into Mr Simmons cow field and the bull trod on my leg..."
Duo's heart shaped face was held in a guilty look for a second before he sidled over to Heero, wagging a finger like old Mrs May did when she was cross "Yeah, Well, That was your fault too Heero! Oy! Stop smirking!"
The brown haired boys face was set in a slightly evil smirk which made the long haired youths eyes darken with a scowl "I'll get you back for this one day!"
Heero merely rolled his eyes and pinched Duo firmly on the shoulder, which caused the longhaired boy to bounce about whining and just generally kicking up a fuss.
Quatre smiled. Duo was his best friend, and he knew that he never meant any harm; Heero was just very good at getting him in trouble. Duo's problem was he didn't usually think his words and actions through very well. This meant, just like today, that Heero could usually put something in his path to cause a problem.
Quatre was easily the most innocent looking member of the group, with Duo not that far behind. The boy had a large amount of Chestnut hair that was kept pulled back into a braid, starting at the nape of his neck. His eyes were wide and a bizarre violet colour. The bouncy bangs that framed his face gave it a distinct heart shape. He was around two inches taller than Quatre, shorter than either Wufei or Heero. It was Duo's clothing that made him stand out in the group, a dark, slightly off black clergy shirt and dog collar accompanied black trousers, his attire would have been thought bizarre, had people not known he lived with Father Maxwell and Helen the Towns sister up at the church. He wasn't really any different from the other children despite his holy upbringing; he and Heero still seemed to exist to wind each other up, no matter the tolerance the old priest tried to teach his pupil.
Heero, though he wasn't the oldest, was definitely the strongest member of this little group, and seemingly the only one who could ever make Duo calm down. And thus, when it came down to it, they usually deferred to him as leader. But there was one person who could over rule him. Quatre, the youngster. Even if Heero didn't agree, if Quatre said no, the others would generally listen to his quiet sense of reason, and uncanny ability to know when something really shouldn't be done. That and the fact they all felt he needed to be looked after.
Another chime from the bell in the clock tower made each member of the group jump and blink in surprise, it was quarter to the hour, if they didn't get to the school house soon they would be late, and Lady Une was always keen to teach late students a lesson with that cane she carried.
After a few seconds of hesitation, they fled.
Their flight to the Schoolhouse took them down the beaten track toward the quay, passing right alongside the house of the weaver and also down past the butchers, where the proprietor, one Nathaniel Crewe was emptying the days offal into a large hole just round to one side, he helpfully tapped his wrist as the four boys ran by, letting them know they were running late, and Heero thanked him with a rude gesture that made Duo snicker.
Quatre stumbled very slightly as he followed his three taller friends into the schoolyard. The two buildings in which the lessons were taught were two of the finest in the little town. One of them, the main building consisted of two stories and had once been the house of a semi-wealthy merchant who had dwelt in the town from some three years. This was all before Quatre was born of course.... The merchant had, as people tend to, died, and in his will it was read that he had left his home to the Lord of the manor, who, having little other use for it had set it aside as a school house, instating the Headmistress, one Lady Une into residence there. It was in this main building that the elder children in the town were taught. From age 8 and up. The schoolmistress herself ran their lessons.
The second building was a far smaller cottage, a bungalow in truth, which had been built especially to accommodate the necessary teaching of the younger children in the town. Their lessons were carried out by the far more docile Lady Parke, who helped them gently with their arithmetic and spelling.
Quatre, much to his distaste, was the only one of his group of friends to still attend lessons in the bungalow. His friends on the other hand, assured him he was lucky.
It appeared that luck had decided to favour Quatre and his friends today, for when they reached the play area of the small schoolhouse it became clear that the bell had not yet rung for the eighteen or so village children who attended the small school were still running around, happily engrossed in their games. Some of the children, Quatre realised as he looked around, had precious little time left in their small school. Fiona Parke, a tall girl with soft brown eyes and a rope of light brown hair would only have a short while left to attend. But, he reasoned, she was likely to be seen again as she was to begin helping her mother teach the younger children. This was okay in Quatres opinion, as he liked her very much.
Quatre happily waved to Fiona as she crossed the yard talking with her friend Lucrezia, who, he realised, would herself only have a few weeks longer than Fiona.
When the two girls had passed, after each had smiled at the small blonde, Quatre blinked around him, realising with slight hurt that his friends had all vanished.
It was with a slight sigh he saw Heero and Duo standing with Jimmy Black, the adopted son of the chimney sweep Arthur Black. Jimmy had originally come from the little settlement of peasant serfs that lived on the empty patch of scrubland a way to the east of the town square, but as Jimmy's wiry shape had made him perfect for the job of chimney sweeps lad, He had thus come to reside with the Town sweep instead.
Jimmy wasn't really that keen on Quatres company, he was too naïve as far as Jimmy was concerned, so Quatre kept out the way, besides, Duo and Heero were allowed to want to spend some time with their classmates, people their own age.
Feeling more than a little put out, despite his reasoning, Quatre mooched off across the yard in search of Wufei, but he didn't really feel much better when he found him. His black haired fried was perched atop a wall in the company of a blonde girl, whose hair had been twisted into peculiar ringlets that fell over each shoulder, her name was Sally Po, she was the doctors daughter, and Wufei always behaved very strangely when people interrupted or asked him about his conversations with her.
So once again, Quatre wandered off. This was the reason he hated being in the younger class, every one treated him like a child. At this point you see, it didn't really matter to Quatre that a child was exactly what he was.
He was much relieved when he saw one of his own classmates enter the yard, Jed Forrester, the farmers' son was a plain lad, roughly Duos height with coppery coloured hair and Quatre enjoyed his company very much. The things that entertained Quatre the most were the young boy's stories of things that happened down at the farm. After catching Jed's attention and wandering over to him, not even a minute needed to pass before the pair were happily gossiping, Jed telling Quatre all about a huge set of boar tracks he and his pap had seen up by the lake early that morning,
Quatre was of course fascinated, and only too happy to agree when Jed to show him the tracks after lessons if he liked. Quatres enthusiasm was dampened when he remembered his long list of errands, but he perked up again when Jed said he didn't mind helping him with them.
Five minutes later the school mistress, a serious lady with her hair pulled back in a bun strode out into the yard, her long grey skirt billowing in the fair wind, and fiercely rang the small hand bell she carried with her, calling all the children into their lessons, with her glassing flashing almost angrily in the sunlight at any who dared to dawdle.
Not even glancing back at his usual playmates, Quatre traipsed into the smaller building, still listening intently to Jed explaining the tracks to him for the third time; it was fascinating, because wild boars were a real rarity in the woods of Lakewood.
The End of Chapter One.
Well, there we go, Chappie one all done and dusted. Please let me know what you think, even if its only one word, lol, I like to know if I'm going too mad with my writing.. Heh..
Hope to hear from you all soon!!
Lora Helen.