I have tried to retell the Farseer story from the POV of the Fool. I do not own the characters or the story line. Any text in italics is dialogue taken directly from the book, usually because it was essential to this rendition by the Fool. If there are any questions regarding the names I have used or my interpretation, or you have any suggestions to how this could be improved I could really appreciate it. This is my first long fanfic so I hope you enjoy it and I am completely open to constructive criticism :)
Chapter 1
I well remember the first time I laid eyes on him, my Catalyst. Nine years old he was and I myself barely his senior in looks and not much more in years. I recall the pattering of small feet that caused me to look up from my chattering to Ratsy. O! Had I known the absolute significance of that moment. The small human child that would become the sole hope for the entirety of the Six Duchies, the lands beyond and all of time itself. And yet here was he, scurrying across the courtyard of Buckkeep behind the Stablemaster, tripping over himself as he struggled to match the long strides of the man he followed.
It was in that moment that I knew. He was the Catalyst. I did not yet understand why or in what way he was important, only that he was. I did not approach him on this occasion. There was no need for interaction with him just yet, for I knew that it would come to pass. So I simply observed, and stored the precious memory away.
Many years later, though time had plagued him and his appearance had much changed, I still saw within him this young boy. He thought himself to be drastically altered, but it was all still there. This following of a master was what ruled him throughout his life. He saw this as a misfortune, but it gave him purpose. It was this that allowed him to follow the path laid out for him. Destiny is a fickle thing that changes as often as the winds that blow in the high mountains beyond Jhaampe. Some destinies may never come to pass, but the Catalyst managed to avoid this potential disaster, although there were times when I believed that we must fail. The consequences of that I dare not think of, but they are the worries of the past.
I saw the Catalyst many more times before we spoke. I shall not detail the memories of all these instances here. Many have faded for at the time I deemed them unimportant. How I now wish that I had carefully recalled each everyday that I might remember them. The security of that long-forgotten innocence may have aided in dispelling the bitterness of later years.
I did not speak with the Catalyst just yet, but others spoke of him. As I sat at the feet of my King, I listened. I crouched unseen while the servants gossiped over the day's laundry, and I listened still. They spoke of 'Chivalry's bastard, the son of some mountain whore'. He had arrived at the keep years before I and yet the servants still found him such a source of gossip.
None held the Catalyst in more disdain than his half-uncle. Regal would constantly complain of his nephew to my King. Encouraged greatly by his mother, he constantly moaned about the confusion the Catalyst caused with the line of succession. I knew how this tried my King's patience, but he endured. All the while, I smiled to myself at the stupidity of it all. Regal's pettiness over his position in the hierarchy, everyone at the keep still discussing the outrage of the bastard begotten by the bringer of the Catalyst. They did not realise that none of it was important; save that I had come to the place where the Catalyst resided.
I will recount to you our first meeting. Although no words were spoken, I learned much about him in this exchange. I had followed my King and the twittering Regal into the Great Hall. The Catalyst suddenly appeared from beneath a table, clutching at some of the leftover pastries that lay there. My King startled at his sudden appearance and I peered between his legs, playing the role of the Fool as my garb predicted. The Catalyst avoided my eye, I believe that my presence made him uncomfortable before we were properly acquainted. We made as if to walk past but my King suddenly rounded on the Catalyst and gestured towards him, I mimicked his movements. Playing the Fool came naturally to me, my bizarre riddles and outbursts were expected in this role. 'Look at him,' my King told Regal. The man barely spared the Catalyst a glance before immediately dismissing him. 'Fool,' announced my King. I smiled mockingly, knowing he addressed Regal. I did not pay much attention to the words exchanged between the two men. Although my King's words were full of wisdom, they were not of interest to me. However, when my King bid the Catalyst to approach him, I knelt beside the pair of them and affixed a serious expression on my features. I studied the Catalyst's face intently, committing it to memory. I flicked to my King's face occasionally, but I knew well the features of the old man. I nodded at his words, determined to keep the expression. It was difficult not to let the joy I felt at this moment show, but it is not in the Fool's nature to reveal his true emotion.
The conversation was ended; I followed my King as he left with the idiot Regal. I couldn't resist as I paused at the door and reached my palms out to the Catalyst, arms outstretched. I indicated out bond but he would not know that. It would only add to the mystery of the Fool for him. Seeing his confusion and pleased with my mischief, I simply waved my tongue at him and fled. I soon caught up to my King and fell into place at his elbow. He smiled and patted my head, and I basked in is true affection. The simple paternal touches that my King bestowed upon me reminded me intensely of my earlier childhood. The casual caresses and the protection he extended to me came so naturally to him. I had been quick to accept and return the love of my King. He was as much a parent to me as my true father, and I embraced that fact with open arms.
Years passed before my next interaction with the Catalyst. Meanwhile, I capered around after my King and played the Fool. I entertained many a guest and became the butt of quite a few jokes. However, it shocked the jokers themselves when they did not inspect the crude barbs I gave in reply. Like I have said, I was the Fool and I fooled many. I took great pleasure in bowing before laughing crowds as a red faced man attempted to flee from the close-packed circle they had formed about him.
The next meeting between the Catalyst and myself was this. I had heard that he would be leaving with Verity the Defender on a trip to Rippon Duchy. I had received a dream-vision the previous night and knew that I must pass a message to him before he left. So, for the first time since my arrival at Buckkeep, I sought him out. Do not ask by what manner I found him, for I myself am uncertain. I suspect that destiny had a great hand in all of my actions. She steered me as much as she did the Catalyst. And so it was that I found him, on the path beneath the scant birch trees. When I appeared before him, for the Fool must always arrive when he is least expected, he looked as though he had perceived a ghost. I suppose in those days my white visage did much to enhance my likeness to one. He whispered his astonishment but I paid no heed, there was a task that I must carry out. I held up a single finger to bid him cease his walking. When he obliged and his eyes ceased their wandering to rest squarely on myself I smiled teasingly at him; all was in place. 'Fitz!' I called to him, for that was his name among the keep folk. He looked at me in astonishment, but I continued in ignorance of this. 'Fitz fixes feists fits. Fat suffices,' I told him, rushing my words lest they be revealed too quickly. I smiled back at him once more and he simply stared. I lifted my finger once again. I lifted my finger once again, shaking it as though disappointed he had not at first understood. I repeated my message, making the words slightly clearer this time, but he must not hear completely yet. I did not know why, only that this was how it must be.
From his reply, I could see that he deemed me a literal fool. Being the Fool did not make me an idiot but apparently in his opinion it did. I shook my head at him and emphasised every word, intending that he should now understand. Once again he gave a condescending reply. I sighed at him and rolled my eyes. Returning my gaze to him I pouted as comically as I could, like a dog may look when his master refuses to give him a second treat. 'Come along now,' he told me, believing me to be lost. Apparently there was no difference between a King's Fool and a hopeless pup. I did not tail my King because I had no sense of direction around the castle, but simply because that is what I should be doing at that particular time. 'No,' I told him plainly. I was adamant that he should understand. I repeated my message once again. He seemed so startled at my ability to speak plainly that he failed to comprehend once again. I decided he needed to be drawn in, made to want to listen. I had already captured his interest so I simply bowed and began to walk away from him. Evidently the people of the keep saw me as a mumbling idiot as well as a Fool. He caught up with me, he was uncertain as to whether I was mocking him. 'Hardly,' I told him in reply. I paused briefly and turned to repeat my message in the most articulate voice I was capable of. I spoke honestly to him. 'It's a message, I believe. A calling for a significant act. As you are the only one I know who endures being called Fitz, I believe it's for you. As for what it means, how should I know? I'm a Fool, not an interpreter of dreams. Good day.' I kept my tone mocking, playing my part as I should. I stepped into the brush, using my slightness and agility to scramble up a tree and out of his sight, effectively disappearing. For the Fool must always retain his mysterious ways.
Once the Catalyst had left I clambered down from my perch and made my way back to the keep. I flitted through the corridors and returned unnoticed to my King's chambers. I puffed my chest out and strode past the guards on the door, nodding approvingly to each one as they stared down at me. My King was bathing at this time in the evening and he spared my a smile as I entered. I scampered over and sank down in a graceful plié to land on my backside next to the large tub.
A short while later, the Defender came to bid his father farewell in private. I stood and gave him a mock salute as he filled the doorframe. Both the Defender and my King grinned at my mockery. 'Fool,' he greeted me, and I cackled delightedly at the double meaning he inflicted upon the word. I returned to my original position as they began their conversation for it was of no interest to me. However, my ears immediately pricked at the mention of the Catalyst. 'Do keep an eye on Fitz, Verity won't you. You know how easily boys of that age manage to find trouble.' The two men here exchanged a wistful smile, no doubt recalling a memory from the boyhood of the Defender and the bringer of the Catalyst when they had done just that thing. 'As you wish, my King,' the Defender replied, bowing formally before he took his leave.
As the Defender turned and exited the room, my King's hand found my hair. He ran the strands through his fingers for a short while before they were withdrawn. 'Attend me, Fool,' he bade me, but his tone was more request than command. I nodded willingly, performing a cartwheel in order to reach the towel that lay over a chair. I was rewarded for this by another smile from my King as he rose from the tub. I hurried over to him and curtseyed as I presented him with the towel. As he dried himself I went through to his bedchamber and brought back a simple robe and belt. Once he was dry and clothed, he patted my head affectionately. I was reminded of my earlier comparison of myself to a dog. Surprisingly I did not mind this. If others perceived me as the King's pet or even if my King himself did, it was not so bad. My King showed me nothing but kindness, and for that I was more than grateful.
I preceded my King out of the room, shuffling backwards in a low bow. He was still smiling fondly as he entered his bedchamber. I did not follow, but left him to dress with the assistance of his manservant. I sank once more to the floor; crossing my legs and resting my chin in my hands. I hummed to myself a tune that was recalled from my childhood, a lullaby sung to me by my mother. She had been a tall woman, almost as pale as I but not with the same unnatural pallor. She was kind and affectionate; never did she raise a hand against me. I missed her. I had left her at a very early age, a brief farewell was the last I saw of her. I seldom dwelled on the past, for the sweet memories brought an ache to my heart.
My King was not long to appear in the doorway once more. He was dressed in a magnificent purple robe. Velvet it was and festooned with many stones and gems. My King did not approve of the fine clothing he felt was unnecessary, but rich clothing symbolised power and in these times appearances were an important thing to keep up. No one could ever doubt that he was King. Power seemed to roll off him in waves and the glamour of the robe only added to the image.
As he exited the chambers I followed at his heels. This time as I passed the two guards outside, I waggled my tongue at the pair of them. I descended the staircase behind my King, copying the elaborate performance of adoration given by a lesser noble the previous evening. Everything I did was much exaggerated, but it was clear for all to see whose actions I mimicked. 'Fool,' my King intoned warningly, but his tone was still somewhat light-hearted and his eyes twinkled. I grinned wickedly at him by way of a response. I chose to slide down the banister and look up at my King as he descended the last few steps.
When he stepped down to the floor, he shook his head at me in mock severity and I smiled up at him innocently. I fell into step behind him as we entered the Great Hall, behaving myself for the moment. My King swept the length of the hall and took his place at the high table. I seated myself on the step beside his chair. This led up to the dais where the thrones stood. Here was where the King and his current queen sat on formal occasions when they were not dining.
The Defender was seated at my King's right hand, his queen at his left. Regal was seated beside his mother and he glared with obvious jealousy at his half-brother. My King and the Defender spoke to one another formally and the talk seemed more to be between comrades than father and son. I did not bother to conceal the glee I felt at Regal's obvious distaste for the Defender. There was nothing he could do to change their positions and this riled him.
The queen was a strong-willed woman and felt that, despite being married to the ruler of the Six Duchies, she was beneath her station. Almost daily she came to my King and told him of all he did which displeased her and threatened to return to Farrow, where she had been born. There, she said, she would raise an army and the inland duchies would rise up against my King, with her as their leader. I do not believe she would ever have done this, she found far too much security and convenience in the position she held. I am loathe to think that my King believed her, but he indulged her wishes anyway, at least to the extent that he could.
My King knew I had a small appetite, but he brought trays of pastries down to my eye-level, ensuring that I satisfied it. Both Regal and his mother disapproved of this behaviour, but this was one thing that my King denied her. No matter what way she came to threaten or beg him, the King would not allow me to be sent away. I repaid him for this in any way I could, and served him unswervingly to the end of his days.
The following evening was significant for both the Catalyst and myself. Although we were apart we experienced the same events, albeit I not as fully as he. As I slept that night, I saw in my dreams a little lap dog in the arms of a girl. I knew as I always did the difference between a night picture and this true vision. This was the meaning of my earlier message to the Catalyst, although I was not able to realise this until I had awoken. In my vision I saw hands grasping at the feist, and knew they were the hands of my Catalyst. The image shifted and I saw the same fingers plucking at a bone wedged in the throat of the beast. The offending object would not be moved and the hands withdrew. I saw briefly the face of the weeping girl; I knew her not. Then the hands returned, greasing the bone with a large knob of butter. With the aid of a hook it now came free, and I knew that fat had sufficed.
I awoke from my vision with a start, I was filled with a sense of wholeness and a smile suffused my face; a prophecy had been fulfilled. I lay there breathing and wondering if the Catalyst had realised the meaning in my words now that the action they foretold had been carried out. If he had not, it was no great disaster, he would find out in times to come. I lay my head back, knowing I would sleep no more tonight but simply enjoying the stillness and silence that surrounded me.
While the Defender and the Catalyst were away, a great tragedy occurred at Buckkeep, although I myself did not consider it as such. The queen fell gravely ill shortly after the departure of these travelling to Rippon. She had always been fond of numerous drugs and the consequences of all came back to her at once. This was the tale told by half of the keep folk, and I suspect it to be the true story. The others had been spun some fanciful rumour, which I deduced had been subtly planted by Regal. They whispered that his mother had been poisoned by my King, who had become tired of her endless threats. This was of course, entirely false.
My King was not consumed with grief at the death of his second wife, but nor was it a trivial thing for him. His face was sombre for weeks after the event, and it was a whole month before he once again smiled at all of my jests. He became altogether a more serious man, and it filled my heart with grief to see him so. When his bastard brother, the Silent One, came to speak to him, my King's words gave me shudders. It was as if the queen's ghost spoke through those lips.
All of a sudden, Regal became much more important to my King. He tried to win the heart of a heartless man and fill the hole that the death of his mother had created with trinkets and indulgences. Regal was well aware of this and his demands became more and more extravagant. He squandered the wealth of the Six Duchies on trips inland and threw lavish parties in his beloved Farrow duchy, which only drained the resources further. He had no thought to the impact this had on a Kingdom at war.
Not long prior to the return of the Defender, I discovered the identity of the girl from my vision. News reached us of the performance of Lady Grace of Rippon; how with her words she had ended the discord over Watch Island tower. The events themselves I ignored, but I knew the young wife of Lord Kelvar was the weeping face I had seen. It was she who had owned the feist. I had no doubt that the Catalyst had some claim to her actions regarding Watch Island. Things were going well for him, though he did not yet know his actions aided not only the Six Duchies, but the circle of time.