The Blacksmith's Apprentice Chapter 1-Ostvale
Hello! I haven't posted anything in a very long time! But, I have this idea, and I like it a lot, but I'm very busy, so I'm only going to go through with it if I get a really positive response on this first Chapter. If I continued, many other characters would be introduced as time goes on, and each would have their own story. They may be different from their Glee selves in slight ways, but for the most part I will try to keep them the same (For example, and I'm sorry in advance, but Blaine is going to be straight, don't get me wrong, I am super pro-gay! But I plan on having Blaine be a large character, and I'm not a huge fan of Kurt...so if Blaine were gay, then I'd have to have Kurt be a big character). Some pairings will be the same as in the Gleeverse, some will not, and some characters from there won't exist in here, like Artie, Mike, Sugar, Joe, Rory, Ryder, Jake and Unique. Faculty will also not be present, cause I don't like em too much.
Now that I've pretty much convinced you NOT to read this, please read it, hahah! I think it's really good, and it's a fascinating scenario for these characters to be in. Oh! It's also a 'song-fic' at points, in that, they break out into song. I'll put the links up here.
watch?v=bjPqsDU0j2I
watch?v=8AJcuJRLG7U
Okay! So, that's my big long note! I hope you enjoy it, so that I can keep writing it and introduce Santana and Rachel and the others! I do not own Glee, on with the story!
Once Upon A Time
"Papa! Papa!" A boisterous young boy scurried into his father's study, a tiny puppy skittering along at his heels.
The boy darted to the side and the dog, unable to stop himself, smacked into the door.
The man at the desk turned and grinned at his boy, laughing good-naturedly at his canine sidekick, who now sat shaking his head in apparent confusion as to when, exactly, that door had jumped into his path.
"What is it?" He smiled, plucking his son off the ground and setting him on his lap. "Is there a goblin under your bed again?" He asked.
The little boy giggled as the man stood up, shifting his son onto his hip and raising an arm triumphantly.
"Shall I vanquish it?" He boomed, loudly.
"No, no Papa!" The little boy laughed.
"Well what then?" He laughed, setting his son down on the floor. "Did you see a phoenix through your window? You know that means good luck!"
The little boy laughed again and the puppy crawled clumsily over, plopping his butt down on the ground next to him.
"Oh, I know..." The man said slyly, leaning down so he towered over his son. "Is it a monster? Because I've seen a monster lurking about around here recently!" He raised his arms ominously.
The little boy's eyes widened magnificently and he held his puppy tightly against his chest.
"Really Papa? What kind of monster?" He asked, barely whispering.
"A tickle monster!" He yelled, grabbing one of his son's bare feet and wiggling his fingers against the soft childish skin. The little boy shrieked and writhed with gasping laughter, rolling around on the floor and flailing against his father.
"Oh my!" A woman appeared at the door, rubbing her hands on a dish towel. "Let him breathe!" She laughed, smiling at her husband. He grinned up at her with a cheesy smile.
"Alright, alright." He sat back on his heels and grinned at his son. "What is it son?"
"Will you and Mama tell me a story?" He asked. The little puppy yipped happily in agreement.
The man turned and locked eyes with his smiling wife. She laughed and shook her head, tucking the dish cloth into the sash of her belt and entering the study.
"A story?" The woman grinned broadly. "What kind of story?" She picked her little boy up under the arms and plopped him down on top of his desk.
The little puppy jumped up at the legs of the desk, barking indignantly.
The man laughed and picked it up too, holding it up to his face and rubbing noses with it.
"I suppose you want a story too?" He asked; a twinkle in his eye. The dog barked and licked him. "Alright than." He smiled, setting the puppy down next to his son.
"What kind of story did you want to hear?" She asked.
The little boy looked at the puppy, almost as if he were validating their request before turning back to his parents.
"Will you tell us...that story?" He asked, looking pointedly at them both.
The man's eyes softened and he turned to look out the window at the snow that was softly falling outside, creating a blanket of white around the forest behind their home.
"That story?" His wife asked. She sat down in the chair next to the large fireplace that flickered on one wall of the study. "You know how sad it gets..." She frowned.
"I know." The little boy nodded, smile gone, a serious expression on his face. "But...it's the truth, isn't it? It's...real."
The man laughed lightly, still looking out at the forest.
"That much is true." He held a hand up against the pane of glass, looking at the deep scarring along his arm.
The little boy set his face.
"You're my parents." He said. "You're...you're real life heroes! Not just stories in books! Please tell me...tell us?" He asked. The man turned back to his son, and the woman glanced away from the fire.
"Okay..." The man smiled softly.
"We'll tell you..." His wife locked eyes with him.
The man lifted up his son and pulled another chair over next to the fire. He sat down and rested his son on his lap. The woman looked at the puppy and then tapped her lap. It barked excitably and jumped down onto the floor, scrabbling against the wood. It jumped up at her shins and she smiled, lifting it into the air.
Both parents locked eyes and opened their mouths at the same time.
Together, they began.
"Once upon a time..."
The Innkeeper's Son
A mischievous teenage boy ran laughing through town square. His long blonde hair rippled as he sped past store fronts. He beamed at passing people and waved at the familiar faces that ran the local shops.
The boy was well known by most of the citizens in Ostvale. He was always willing to lend a helping hand, and was quick to offer a smile and a kind greeting to those he met.
He'd been adopted by the innkeeper at a young age, and nobody knew much about his biological family, but he was so kind to everybody, that people could hardly imagine a life without him.
"Hey, kid!" A booming voice yelled out, he turned, slowing to a jog as he passed by the Blacksmith's shop.
"Yes sir?" He asked, looking back at the burly man.
"Where are you running off to?" The man grunted.
"I was gonna' go and visit my friend!" He said.
"Well, how's about having a little chat with me? It'll be worth your while!" He swiped hair out of his eyes and smeared his forehead with grease.
The boy shrugged. There was crime in his town, but no more than in any other, and despite an intimidating appearance, he'd only ever heard good things about the town blacksmith.
"Sure!" He smiled. "He can wait." He laughed. The man smiled tightly and nodded.
"Alright, how'd you like a job?" He leaned against the post holding the canopy above his storefront and rested his massive hammer in his hands.
"A job?" The boy laughed. "Here? Sir, I have no idea how to craft weaponry! I'm the inn keeper's son! The closest I've ever come to forging metal is when a bed pan gets a dent and I have to bang it out!"
The man stared at him levelly. The square was relatively busy at all hours, but in the early morning as it was, there weren't many adventurers out and about looking for the blacksmith's assistance.
The boy didn't know much about adventuring, but his adoptive mother ran the inn downtown, and he'd found that most of the adventurers liked to sleep in when they had the chance. He supposed that if he had to spend most of his life sleeping in caves or up trees, he'd probably relish a bed when he had one too.
"Look kid, what's your name?"
"Sam Evans, sir!" He reached a hand out to shake the older man's hand. The blacksmith nodded and took his hand, shaking it firmly.
"Alright Sam, you can call me Bruce." He waved at somebody passing by before turning back to Sam. "The issue is this; I get tired back in that shop of mine after long periods of time, and I miss out on plenty of customers when I'm back there working on an order. I could always do orders after I close up shop, but then I'd never have any time to sleep!"
Sam nodded slowly.
"So you want me to be here so you don't have to worry about missing out on customers?" He asked. "I'm sure I can manage that!"
"Now hold on there, son. If I'm gonna hire you, you'll have to learn some ironworking skills as well. Like I said, it gets tiring in that shop sometimes, but if I had somebody to swap with every now and then, I would get a break from the heat, and I would double my revenue!" He looked at Sam seriously. "What do you say?"
Sam bit his lip.
"I don't know..." He hesitated. "I've never even held a sword! Let alone crafted one!"
"I'll tell you what. You think it over and get back to me. I know it's a pretty forward offer, but you never know, it could be a pretty useful skill to have later in life!" He grinned, nodding at him.
"Thank you, sir! I'll get back to you as soon as I can! I appreciate the offer, at the very least!" Sam waved to him and turned away, jogging back down the street.
Working as an innkeeper, his adoptive mother made a decent amount of money, about as much as other folks, but Ostvale wasn't the most popular tourist city, so they usually didn't have a whole lot of money for amenities.
If he accepted the blacksmith's proposal, however, he could buy himself things! He wouldn't have to feel as though he were burdening his mother when he asked for new shoes or some snack money to give to the man who ran the fruit stand, or the butcher.
On the other hand, it would mean buckling down and giving away most of his free time. How often would he be able to see his friends? Would he be able to continue helping out at the inn?
What if he ruined somebody's weapon and cost the Blacksmith a customer? What if he ruined them all? Oh, this was far too complicated a decision to think about on his own. Quinn would know, she had a good head on her shoulders, even when Sam's was off in the clouds.
"Hello Mrs. Fabray!" Sam smiled at the woman who stood at the doorway of her store. The scents of various types of bread and pastry wafted through the doorway and Sam made a noise of famished approval.
"Hello Sam." The light haired woman smiled at him. "Quinn's just upstairs; would you like a little treat? It's a new type of loaf that I've been working on with nuts and honey!" She clapped her hands eagerly.
"Sure!" He grinned. She nodded and hurried back into her shop. Sam stood watch to make sure she didn't miss any customers. Of all of the businesses in Ostvale, Mrs. Fabray was one of the most successful. Her bounty of delicious treats and welcoming attitude made her a frequent stop for anybody who could afford it, and sometimes even those who could not.
She had even taken to setting aside a few loafs of regular bread for the homeless or ill citizens of Ostvale. It wasn't much, but it was free and a lot more than they would usually get.
As far as Sam understood, Quinn and her parents had gone through some rough times not too long ago, and he'd left them behind. After he left her and Quinn left to live with a friend for a while, Mrs. Fabray made some new life choices.
Sam was pretty pumped with the situation actually, because he got free food out of it! Oh, and Quinn had a happy, healthy relationship with her mother now.
"Here you are!" She returned with a slice of steaming golden bread in hand. Sam accepted it hastily and dug in. It was, as he'd anticipated, phenomenal; sweet, but nutty at the same time, and still warm from the oven.
"This is so good! Delicious!" He grinned, polishing it off. "Best I've ever had, actually. Yum!" He rubbed his stomach for emphasis.
"Perfect!" Mrs. Fabray laughed. "I'll have to figure out a selling price than!"
"Go high, it's worth it!" Sam suggested before popping into the delicious home-bakery and hopping up the stairs two at a time.
He found Quinn in her room, sitting on her bed reading a book.
"Hi!" He waved quickly. "Sorry I'm late!"
"That's okay!" Quinn smiled at him and lowered her book. "You look excited!" She laughed.
"I just got offered a job!" He grinned. She beamed and carefully tabbed the page she was on. She delicately set the book on the table to the side of her rickety wooden bed.
"A job? That's exciting!" She said. "Where at?"
"The Blacksmith's! I'm gonna be his apprentice!" He grinned, pantomiming fashioning a blade. He paused. "I don't know how to be a Blacksmith though..." He frowned.
"Well he'll obviously teach you!" She said. "You should do it! You could use the extra money!"
"But what if I ruin one of his orders or something?"
"He'll teach you!" She repeated. "And if you mess it up, it's metal, so you can always melt it down and start again."
"That's true..." He paused, thinking it over. "I won't have much free time though..."
"You'll still have evenings free, and I'm sure you'll have some time off." Quinn pointed out, scoffing slightly.
Sam mulled this over as well.
"I think I'll take it! I mean, it'd be cool!" He concluded.
"Good for you! You can go and accept if you want, before he offers it to somebody else!"
"Why don't you come with me?" He asked.
Quinn looked at her book with barely concealed longing.
"Oh come on! You're always reading or working out or being...productive-" He crinkled his nose. "-when you aren't working! You don't do anything for fun!"
-Musical Cue-
-Electric Light Orchestra: Mr. Blue Sky-
"Those things are fun!" Quinn protested.
"In moderation!" He laughed and grabbed her hand, pulling her up to face the window. "Look out there! It's a beautiful day!"
"But my book..."
"Come on Quinn..." He paused and a glint in his eye was all the warning she got before he burst into song. "Sun is shinin' in the sky! There ain't a cloud in sight!" He pulled her away from the window and past the bed. "It's stopped rainin' ev'rybody's in a play"
Bursting out the door, he grabbed the banister and slid down it, pulling her down the stairs after him."And don't you know It's a beautiful new day hey,hey" He extended his hand to her and she took it with a role of her eyes.
Mrs. Fabray waved to them, laughing as Sam pulled her daughter out onto the street. Once again he was running, waving at people he passed.
"Runnin' down the avenue, see how the sun shines brightly in the city! On the streets where once was pity." He grabbed her and pointed upwards as they reached the center of town. "Mister blue sky is living here today hey, hey."
Several of the villagers walking past glanced up, looking almost sad as they bustled about their day to day chores.
"Mister blue sky please tell us why, you had to hide away for so long, where did we go wrong?" They all sang as they passed by Sam and Quinn. Sam pulled Quinn atop the fountain in the center of town, pointing out different clouds and shapes as the villagers repeated themselves. "Mister blue sky please tell us why, you had to hide away for so long, where did we go wrong?"
Sam laughed brightly and Quinn joined him as he pulled her off of the fountain and back into the streets. He led her towards where a street performer was juggling several eggs. Sam jumped in eagerly and began juggling the eggs back and forth.
"Hey you with the pretty face, welcome to the human race!" Sam sang, grinning at her teasingly. The street performer looked over, grinning and joined Sam in harmony. "A celebration, mister blue sky's up there waitin' and today is the day we've waited for!"
Sam waved to him thankfully before pulling Quinn away again. The performer waved happily at them, and then scowled as all three eggs smashed against his head. The crowd of people around him paused, hissing in disapproval.
"Mister blue sky please tell us why, you had to hide away for so long, where did we go wrong?" They sang to each other, nodding in agreement with one all then turned, following along after Sam and Quinn. "Hey there mister blue! We're so pleased to be with you,
look around see what you do, ev'rybody smiles at you."
Quinn looked back at them and tapped Sam on the shoulder, pointing. He noticed them and grinned, joining them. "Hey there mister blue! We're so pleased to be with you,
look around see what you do, ev'rybody smiles at you." Sam ran towards the Blacksmith, nodding at him and raising his hand.
The Blacksmith chuckled and tossed him an empty pipe which he deftly caught. He turned back towards Quinn and held it to his mouth, continuing to sing as it distorted his voice.
"Mister blue sky, mister blue sky!" He sang to her. She burst out laughing, eyes sparkling with mirth. "Mister blue sky" He tossed the pipe back to the Blacksmith and continued to walk through town with Quinn at his side and a growing number of citizens oohing behind him.
"Mister blue, you did it right, but soon comes mister night creepin' over!" He grabbed Quinn's shoulders and peeked around her, laughing. "Now his hand is on your shoulder. Never mind I'll remember you this! I'll remember you this way!"
Sam sat Quinn atop a fenced Quinn near a produce shop and then hopped up next to her, both of them rocking back and forth as the villagers sang together. Behind them, the cows and chickens began to approach curiously.
"Mister blue sky please tell us why! You had to hide away for so long, where did we go wrong?" They all sang. Sam jumped off, grabbed a piece of straw from the ground and grinned at her. "Hey there mister blue, we're so pleased to be with you! Look around see what you do, ev'rybody smiles at you!"
Sam began to wave the straw in the air, directing the cows and chickens to moo and cluck in songlike pattern. Eventually he dropped the cows out and pointed at the roosters, who puffed up their chests and bawked as deeply as they could.
Quinn almost died of laughter, clapping her hands excitedly. Sam dropped the straw, bowed to the animals and watched as they bowed back. He grinned and took Quinn by the arm, parading back through town as the villagers sang behind them.
The energy began to slow down and he sat them both back down on the fountain. Slowly the group of villagers following them began to trickle away until only a little boy remained, standing with the pipe Sam had thrown back to the Blacksmith.
Quinn smiled at him and beckoned him closer and he brought the pipe to his mouth, as Sam had done not too long ago.
"Mister blue sky!" He struggled through the words. When he was finished he dropped the pipe and beamed at Sam who ruffled his hair and sent him on his way.
"You see?" Sam laughed, turning to his friend. She smiled at him, eyes sparkling in the sunlight.
"I do." She laughed and he fist-pumped. "Now it's your turn!"
"Huh?"
"Seize the day! Go accept the job!" She grinned and then looked up at the sky. "I mean, it's already such a beautiful day, why don't you make it even better?" She smiled.
He paused. She was right, she tended to be.
He jumped up and grabbed her hand, pulling her to her feet once again. She laughed at his bubbly childlike energy and followed along.
The Blacksmith grinned as they approached and hastily finished up an order.
"I knew I hadn't seen the last of you." He beamed.
"No sir! I'm here to accept!"
"So you'll do it?"
"Just call me..." He paused and looked at Quinn, smiling. "The Blacksmith's Apprentice!"
Destined For Greatness
"The Blacksmith's Apprentice huh?"
Sam fell back onto his bed, nodding as another friend of his stepped through the door to his room.
Brittney Pierce was Sam's other best friend, with a pale complexion and straight blone hair similar to Quinn's. She had a light-hearted, joking air about her, and most of the things that she said were in the name of a good time, whether she meant them to be or not.
"Yep!" Sam grinned and then looked up. "Watch the lamps this time... you've already broken three..." He laughed. Brittney pursed her lips and looked around shiftily, instantly pulling his hand away from the stack of kerosene lamps that littered one wall of Sam's bedroom.
Unfortunately, the lamps weren't the only thing cluttering up Sam's room. He also had a good length of metal piping on the floor and several large swathes of carpet. His room doubled as a storage unit for any supplies that his mother liked to keep around for the guests of the inn.
"No, look at it this way, I only broke three." Brittney said. "I blame Lord Tubbington. If he didn't coax me into eating his cat food on Sundays, I wouldn't have had a food baby every time. My balance was off."
"You still broke three! You just changed the wording!" Sam said, disregarding her speech about her cat. He had gotten over Brittney's firm belief that Lord Tubbington could talk to her long ago.
"Yeah." Brittney nodded. "But it sounds better my way." She picked up one of the pipes and began to wave it around, pantomiming a sword. "Will you make me a weapon now that you're a professional Blacksmith who knows everything there is to know about making any weapon in the world ever?"
Sam laughed, sitting up on his bed and ducking as Brittney almost hit him with the pipe.
"What would you need a weapon for?"
"Because there's gonna be a massive invasion and I'm gonna have to rescue everybody with my super awesome combat skills." Brittney looked at him like he was stupid before trying, and failing, to flip the pipe around in his hands.
It went flying off to the side.
They both cringed at the sound of breaking glass.
"...Four."
"Brittney!" Sam's mother screamed up the stairs.
"It wasn't me!" Brittney yelled innocently, clasping her hands behind her back.
"Yeah right! This is the fourth one! You're paying for the next one!" She yelled.
"It was Lo-!" She cringed.
"And don't you blame that cat again!"
Brittney looked at Sam.
Sam looked at Brittney.
They both burst out laughing, Sam collapsing on his bed and Brittney leaning against the door for support.
"Seriously though, I really can't break anything else." Brittney laughed. "My Dad got so mad at me last time that he took away my copy of The Little Old Lady Who Lived In A Shoe. And the shoe that I keep her in. Fathers can be so mean to little old women sometimes, you know?"
They both fell silent suddenly, Sam's hysterical grin slowly melting off of his face. He caught Brittney's eye and offered a weak smile.
"Umm, no...no I don't." He laughed bitterly.
"Oh...I'm so sorry..." Brittney frowned. "I totally forgot."
"It's fine..." Sam smiled. It was a fake smile, and they both knew it, but it wasn't Brittney's fault, and they both knew that as well.
They both lapsed into silence for a moment before Sam's mother broke it, yelling up the stairs that Brittney's father wanted him to go home to help out at the shop.
"Alright!" Brittney yelled back, before looking back at his best friend. "I really am sorry...feel better." She frowned and gave him a tight hug, then ducked out of the room.
Sam gave a half-hearted wave goodbye before falling backwards on the bed, sighing.
He loved his mother, he really did, but he couldn't understand what it was about him that had made him not worth keeping. Was he diseased? Had his parents felt he didn't deserve their love, and so had tossed him away like he was garbage?
In his head, Sam imagined that his parents had been killed saving his adoptive mother and the rest of Ostvale from a gigantic monster that was threatening the entire kingdom. In his imagination, Sam's mother thrust Sam's infant-self into the arms of his adoptive mother and said that it was her job to raise him now.
He knew that that was probably not the case. He'd read the books, he'd heard the stories; most homeless children were just the result of alcohol and then an unwillingness to raise a child.
"Sam?" A voice snapped him out of his revere and he looked up to find his mother standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips. "I've been calling you for at least five minutes, what are you fantasising about this time?" She scoffed.
"Nothing..." He looked down at the ground.
"Well the occupants in the third room need you to help them lug their supplies down the stairs while they go out and purchase some last minute goods." She nodded and turned to leave.
He looked up.
"Mom?" He asked.
"Yes?" She turned back to him.
"Who are my parents?" He asked.
She sighed and closed her eyes tightly. He suspected that she'd known this day would come. He had always meant to ask her, but had never managed to work up the nerve. Now it seemed that the day had arrived.
"I don't know." She sighed.
"You don't know?" He paused. He'd spent eighteen years waiting for her answer to his question, and that was it? He would've preferred a harsh reality to more uncertainty.
"No...I'm sorry Sam." She frowned. "You just, sort of, showed up on the doorstep one day." She paused suddenly.
He fell silent. So he had just been abandoned...
"That's it?" He asked.
"Well..." She trailed off.
"What?"
"Wait here. I do have something for you." She stood up and left the room.
Instead of waiting, he followed her to her room, where she was digging through a chest of drawers that rested at the foot of her bed.
"What are you looking for?" He asked.
"This!" She said triumphantly, holding up a tightly folded, old looking wad of paper.
"A piece of paper?"
"A note. It was tied around your neck with a bit of yarn when I found you." She handed it to him, daintily and he took it with trembling hands.
Whatever was written on the note, regardless of how insignificant it might be, it was from his parents. His biological parents. He looked at his mother and then turned, walking out of the room and jogging down the hallway towards his own room.
"Sam!" His mother yelled after him.
He reached his room and closed the door, leaning against it. He heard her feet come to rest on the other side, but he didn't open it again.
"Sam..." She whispered through the crack. "I'm sorry."
He didn't respond. He just stood there, waiting, looking out the window at the moon that glistened in the sky. Slowly her footsteps faded away down the stairs.
"I wish I had a family..." He whispered.
"Where were you?" Brittney's father yelled as she stepped through the door.
"I was at Sam's..." Brittney said irritably. Her father was constantly being an asshole to her, and it drained her. Brittney was a pretty happy girl, but when people treated her like she was stupid...like her father did...it got hard.
"It's a work day!" Her father snapped
"It's not even day anymore!" Brittney shot back, moving towards the staircase that led up to her bedroom. Her father stepped in the way and shoved her backwards. Brittney looked to the side and bit her lip to keep from saying anything he would regret.
"Don't you talk back to me! I'm your father." Brittney's father snarled.
"You don't act like it..." Brittney mumbled.
There was a moment of silence where they both stared at one another, the veins in her father's neck bulging angrily. Brittney shrank back. Well...that might've fallen under the category of something she'd regret...oops.
"Excuse me?"
"I didn't mean tha-" Brittney started.
"Get out of my house." Her father's nose crinkled up with disgust.
"Wh-what?"
"Get out!" He snapped. "You stupid girl!"
There was another tense silence between them, a struggle for power, neither of them particularly keen on giving up. Eventually, Brittney snapped her head away.
"Fine!" Brittney yelled. "You know, this is why mom left!" She turned and stormed back out the door into the night.
She ran until her lungs hurt, and then she ran some more. Soon she found herself wandering through the streets in another part of town. She slowed to a dragging walk, looking up at the moon.
"I wish I had a home..." She whispered, tearing up.
Quinn was just closing up shop when a young couple walked up to ask for a loaf of bread.
"That'll be four copper please." She smiled at them.
"Here's five." The boy said, giving his girlfriend a peck and dropping the coins into Quinn's hand. "Keep the change." They took the loaf and walked off, the girl watching Quinn over her shoulder.
"Maybe she can use the change to buy herself a boyfriend." The girl snickered. Quinn froze and looked down at the money, trying to pretend she hadn't heard.
"I think she's very pretty." The boyfriend said defensively.
"Pretty, yeah, but she's got the sex appeal of a-" Whatever she was going to say next was lost on Quinn, as she dropped the coins to the ground.
Pretty, she'd been told her whole life that she was pretty. Pretty hair, pretty eyes, pretty mouth, pretty frame. But as her friends grew up and became sexy, Quinn just kept being pretty. Sam and Brittney often told her that there wasn't anything wrong with 'not being slutty' but...Quinn just wished that, just once, she could turn somebody's head just by walking into a room.
Maybe that was shallow, maybe there wasn't anything wrong with being pretty, but pretty had never gotten her a real boyfriend, and pretty had never gotten her kissed. Pretty had made her the love interest to any number of weird guys, and the best friend to those that were dateable.
She sighed as she collected the coins, slipping them into a cloth bag to count and separate later on to check what their profit for the day was. She looked up at the moon.
"I wish I had love..." She whispered.
Sam felt sad, sadder than he'd ever felt before, lonelier than he'd ever felt before, because even though he was suddenly so much closer to his parents, he was still just as far away.
With trembling fingers he unfolded the paper. He was so nervous that he dropped it twice, and he grabbed for it, but missed as it floated down into the oil that had spilt when Brittney broke the lamp.
Sam dropped to his knees, crying out in panic, and grabbed it, wiping the oil off on his shirt and hastily unfolding the note. It was stained now, from the oil, but it was still legible. There in big scrawling ink, were ten simple words.
"Take care of my son...he'll be great some day." He whispered aloud, reading by the light of the moon. He stared at it numbly for quite some time. He wasn't sure how long, but he was startled out of his numbness when something dripped down onto the page.
-Musical Cue-
-Christina Perri: The Lonely-
With a start, he realized that he was crying. Looking up, he felt the moonlight against his skin, and with the salty taste of his own tears in his mouth, he sang.
"Two A.M...Where do I begin? Crying off my face again..." He sang, looking back down at the note. "The silent sound of loneliness, wants to follow me to bed..." He whispered bitterly.
Slowly, Sam rose to his feet, the note still in hand, eyes tracing every gentle curl of the letters.
"I'm a ghost of a boy...that I want to be most..." He looked up again, allowing the moonlight to catch his face. "I'm the shadow of a boy that I used to know well..."
"Dancing slowly in an empty room!" Quinn sang, looking up at the stars, pausing in the doorway of her home. "Can the lonely take the place of you? She sighed and ducked inside.
"I sing myself a quiet lullaby...let you go and let the lonely in...to take my heart again..." Brittney sang as she walked, kicking a loose cobblestone across the road. She blinked back tears, looking back in the direction of her old home. "Too afraid, to go inside..."
"For the pain of one more loveless night..." Quinn sang as she climbed the stairs to her room.
"For the loneliness will stay with me..." Brittney whispered, stepping out onto the main street of town.
"And hold me till I fall asleep..." Quinn cried as she sank onto her bed. "I'm the ghost of a girl...that I want to be most..."
"I'm the shell of a girl that I used to know well..." Brittney sang, sitting down on the fountain's edge.
"Dancing slowly in an empty room!" Sam belted. "Can the lonely take the place of you?"
He looked down at the note in his hand and stepped through the door of his room onto the balcony that overlooked the street.
"I sing myself a quiet lullaby! Let you go and let the lonely in...to take my heart again..."
"Broken pieces of..." Quinn sang, standing, tears streaking down her face. She looked out her window at the moon. "A barely breathing story..."
"Where there once was love..." Brittney stood, imagining her mother taking her hand. "Now there's only me." The phantom image faded slowly away.
"And the lonely!" Sam wailed, the wind picking up and whipping his clothing around. "Dancing slowly in an empty room! Can the lonely take the place of you?" His fingers tightened around the note. "I sing myself a quiet lullaby! Let you go and let the lonely in…to take my heart again." He lifted the note and pulled his arm back.
There he stood, for several moments, but eventually, with trembling lips and a tear-stained face, he lowered his arm and re-entered his room. He set the piece of paper on the bedside table and fell into his bed. He cast the only thing he had left of his parents one final look, before a saddened sleep overcame him. At least they believed in him...whoever they were.
"Brittney?" Quinn whispered suddenly, movement catching her eye through the window.
There her friend stood, stumbling along down the road with the drunken grace that only the truly distraught could manage. Hastily she grabbed her sweater and ran down the stairs, pulling it on.
Brittney was so lost in her own misery that she didn't even notice Quinn until she was right beside her.
"Brittney, what are you doing out here so late?" Quinn asked, practically yelling over the wind. "It's a work day tomorrow; you should be getting some rest!"
Brittney sighed, and the hurt in her eyes broke Quinn's already broken heart, but for a different reason. Brittney was her friend, and she was normally such a happy person!
"I don't have anywhere's to rest anymore." She smiled tightly, but the lump in her throat was obvious. She prayed that Quinn would let it go.
Quinn frowned, opened her mouth with a quizzical glance, and then closed it again. Whatever had happened, Brittney clearly didn't want to talk about it. She took her hand and began to walk her into her house.
"Quinn-" Brittney protested.
"I'm not going to make you sleep on the streets. We have a spare bedroom. We wash it regularly so you should be fine." She explained as she pulled her inside.
Brittney paused inside the door and smiled at her.
"Thanks."
"Well did you really think I was going to let you go homeless?" Quinn asked incredulously, smiling.
Brittney shrugged and Quinn's smile softened.
"Oh Brittney." She said tenderly. "That may be the stupidest thing you've ever not-said to me. And you've not-said some pretty dumb things." She teased.
Brittney laughed and swatted at her but she ducked out of the way.
"I'll get you some blankets."
"Thanks Quinn." She smiled. At least she had a house...even if it wasn't a home...
"No problem." Quinn nodded. At least she had somebody to love...even if it wasn't in the kind of love that she really wanted...
A Lamb Sentenced To Slaughter
"Hi Bruce." Brittney grinned lopsidedly as she slipped past the Blacksmith and into the shop where her friend was hard at work.
"Don't break anything this time kid!" Bruce yelled over the roar of the rain.
"I won't!" Brittney held up her hands innocently and then ran them through her soaking hair. Amused, she turned and walked towards the back of the shop where her friend was hard at work.
Sam, as it turned out, was a natural craftsman, and had taken to the art of blacksmithing with remarkable ease. He rarely fumbled an order, and had helped to almost triple the Blacksmith's clientele with his efficient but accurate workmanship.
In exchange for being such a wonderful employee, Bruce the Blacksmith often allowed Brittney or Quinn to drop by, and though he was gruff and intimidating, it was clear that he'd developed a fondness for them both.
"Hey!" Sam said, smiling but not looking up. He leveled his eyes on the metal bar that he was sticking into the coals of a large cast-iron furnace.
"What's up?" Brittney grinned, jumping up onto a large table stacked with iron beams. She reached over to grab one and successfully managed topple them all to the floor with a deafening crash.
Sam froze and looked up at his friend with accusing eyes. Brittney blinked; one hand still on the beam she'd reached out to collect.
"Brittney!" The Blacksmith yelled.
"It wasn't me!" She lied, hastily dropping to the floor to recollect them.
"You have to stop breaking things at my workplaces." Sam laughed. When the metal had turned a bright white color he removed it and set the heated part upon a large fulcrum.
"I'm confused, you should be thanking me." Brittney said levelly. "I just dented some of them…which is what you do for a living anyways."
"It is not!" Sam said as he grabbed a hammer and began to bash the metal beam against the fulcrum with wild abandon. He paused and caught Brittney's eye. "Okay maybe a little bit."
Brittney laughed and began to slowly place the beams back on the table, amusing herself by creating a pyramid.
"How's living at Quinn's?" Sam asked conversationally, going back to his work. He bashed the beam one final time and smiled as the extra metal fell away from the end, leaving him with a blade sized length to work with.
"Sweet!" Brittney grinned. "Her mom makes the best everythings." She said seriously. "They're so good, I think she might be injecting them with dopamine."
Sam nodded, sticking the cooling metal back into the coals.
"Oh I know. Did she give you that Honey Nut Loaf thing?" He asked.
Brittney's eyes glazed over contentedly.
"That was my breakfast." Brittney grinned. "And lunch. And brunch. And snack."
Sam laughed and removed the blade again, walking over to another station where an anvil rested. He grabbed a different hammer and set the hot end of the bar atop the anvil. Smiling jauntily he began to bash away at the end, gradually beating it into a point.
"Where is Quinn anyways?" Sam asked.
"I don't know, she got this book-"
Sam groaned loudly.
"Mod-er-a-tion!" He yelled, bashing the metal with each syllable. Brittney laughed and held up her hands defensively as Sam crossed the room again to stick the metal back into the coals until it was white hot again.
"She's been getting better at going outside just because. Mostly because I keep ripping her books for fun." Brittney said. "But have you seen the weather out there?"
"No, I've been in here since dawn." Sam laughed, wiping at his eyes resulting in a smudged warrior-esque line across his cheek that Brittney noticed, but didn't bother to point out.
"It's been pouring down rain for hours now." He said. "I think God is crying. Maybe it's his time of the month."
"Really?" Sam asked, looking up. He lifted the blade and swung it from side to side experimentally. He pursed his lips and then returned it to the anvil to beat against it some more.
"Yeah, I actually had to swim part of the way here."
"Really?"
"No." Brittney deadpanned. "Sam I was obviously kidding. Why can't you tell?"
Sam paused and looked at her blankly before bursting out into laughter again.
"What's so funny?" Bruce bellowed as he re-entered the shop.
"Me." Brittney grinned. Bruce chuckled and clapped her on the back.
"How's this Bruce?" Sam asked, lifting the blade and turning it slowly so that it glinted in the firelight. Bruce took it from him and began running his gloved fingers along it.
"Smooth, sharp, nicely tapered, probably a good sword for an amateur, not too dangerous if casually swung around." He paused and looked up at Sam, smiling. "A fine sword indeed."
Sam grinned, face blackened from smoke. Bruce crossed to a faucet in the far corner above the wash basin within which they cooled the metal.
"You've got something on your face there kid." He laughed.
"Where?" Sam asked, instinctively pressing his hands against his face.
Calmly Brittney stood and approached, removing Sam's hands and raising her own as if to approximate the smudge.
"Just, like...everywhere." She said, laughing and shoving Sam back, face-palming him.
Sam scowled and shoved her off, but then grinned good-naturedly.
"Here, wash up." Bruce laughed, soaking a wet rag and then tossing it to him. Obediently Sam caught it and began to remove the filth from his face.
"But if you're the next great swords-maker, why do you still have to take baths?" Brittney asked seriously.
"Now hold on, I said that sword was fine." The Blacksmith said, puffing out his chest.
"What do you mean?" Sam asked; looking mildly put out.
"That sword was fine, but it wasn't great! I'll show you a great sword." He said, unclipping the leather scabbard on his belt.
Sam watched eagerly; he'd never actually witnessed the Blacksmith's personal sword, but he'd always been curious as to what that scabbard hid.
Slowly the Blacksmith withdrew a long, sleek weapon, with a deadly looking blade. The color of the blade changed from a bright white to a dark onyx depending on where the light hit it. The hilt was made of dark blue leather, and was wrapped with a dark yellow cord to provide optimum grip, and was imbedded with five bright purple crystals.
Great was an understatement, Sam couldn't help but think.
This sword was phenomenal.
The Blacksmith grinned, wielding the sword as if it were a child. He looked at it with the pride of a father, but held it with the deadly grip of a warrior.
Brittney gawked and reached forwards to touch it, but no sooner had she taken a step, than the sword was back in its leather scabbard.
"That was prettier than the lazy princess in the story books who slept in forever..." Brittney pouted.
"Prettier! This sword is never to be touched." Bruce said, staring at both of them levelly, making sure to make eye contact with each before moving on.
"Why not?" Sam asked politely.
"Because this is the sword of a hero." He said. "Only a true hero can wield a weapon as mighty as this one." He stroked the scabbard, grinning.
"I'm a hero." Brittney protested. "I help Quinn's mom all the time."
"That may make you nice, but it doesn't make you a hero." He said. He paused and looked at them both again. "Though, I do see the makings of greatness in you both. Don't let that light die kids; it may be the only thing to keep you alive."
Sam laughed.
"What's going to threaten our lives here?" He and Brittney both chuckled. "Nothing ever happens in Ostvale."
As if the universe were out to spite him, any further conversation was put to a standstill as a man rushed inside of their shop in a blind panic.
"It's the King's soldiers! They're approaching!"
Quinn looked up from her book at the sound of horses' hooves and turning wheels on the cobblestones. She cocked her head to the side and carefully tabbed the page that she was on before setting it off to the side.
"Mom?" She yelled, exiting her room.
This was particularly strange; visitors weren't unheard of, but most travelled by foot. Nobody rich enough to afford a carriage had ever visited Ostvale. Nothing of interest happened there, it was a pleasant, quiet little village where people tended to go when they became too old to work; the exact opposite of a tourist trap.
She opened the door and looked out into the rain, but it was so thick that she could see little more than a growing crowd around a blurry dark shape. Her mother was nowhere in sight, and though she wasn't fond of exposing her hair to such harsh weather conditions, she was curious.
Hadn't curiosity killed the cat though? She wondered to herself, pausing under the awning over their store. She shook her head, scoffing at her silliness before stepping out and jogging towards the crowd of onlookers.
Sam and Brittney peered out through the rain. The Blacksmith had warned both of them to stay put and had run out after the terrified man, but when asked, refused to give them an explanation for his odd behaviour.
"The King's soldiers..." Sam raised an eyebrow. "What would they be doing here?"
"I don't know..." Brittney said; no witty remark, no sarcastic quip. She was just as confused, alarmed and concerned as her best friend.
"Like, I actually can't think of any reason for them to be here."
"Maybe they're recruiting people to go be heroes or something!" Brittney said naively.
"But why would they come to Ostvale for heroes? Everybody here is either working class, or over eighty..."
"Well, Bruce is pretty heroic..."
"That's true!" Sam said. "Maybe they came for Bruce! That would explain why he's acting like he knows something."
Brittney grinned at him, both of them thrilled with their new revelation.
"Let's go see!" Brittney said.
"Okay." Sam grinned, nodding excitedly.
Without another word the two sprinted out into the rain.
When Quinn arrived on the scene, the crowd of onlookers was so thick that she could barely see the road. Thankfully, her small stature actually worked to her advantage for once, and when repeated 'excuse me's failed to work, she began to weave her way through the throng of alarmed citizens.
As she crept, she caught only snippets of conversation here and there.
"-children from all over...-"
"-just terrible, I kept mine at home-"
"-took my brother when I lived in Violetedge-"
Soon, Quinn had managed to reach the front of the crowd of people, all looking towards the city gates with immense trepidation. The nervousness in the crowd was almost palpable, and Quinn couldn't for the life of her understand why.
This was the King they were talking about. He had to be King for a reason; if he was having their town visited it could only be for good reason! Especially if he'd sent his soldiers in such awful weather!
"Open the gates!" Somebody hollered, and slowly the flimsy wooden gates of their charming retirement village swung inwards to reveal a large black carriage being hauled by four equally dark horses.
"I can't see anything." Brittney complained, standing on her toes. "Can you?"
"A little bit..." Sam mumbled. "They just opened the gates, but I can't see the soldiers."
Brittney scowled.
"Do you see Bruce?" She asked.
"Nope..." Sam frowned. "Come on; let's try to skirt the edge of the crowd."
"They follow you around like you're the Pied Piper when you're singing, but the minute you stop they get right in the way again...Can't you whip out a ballad or something?" Brittney growled.
"I don't think it works like that." Sam laughed. "Besides, people don't just burst randomly into song. That would be weird."
Quinn gasped as the horses approached. They were magnificent creatures, but...there was something about the way their nostrils flared and their pupils dilated that made her take a few steps back.
One of the horses clomped through a large puddle before rolling to a stop... right in front of her. She looked around nervously and took another step back.
Slowly the door to the carriage was pushed open.
"There we go!" Sam grinned.
They'd managed to skirt around the others and then inserted themselves into the middle of the crowd. With fewer heads to peer around they had a clearer view this time around. They both watched eagerly as the door opened up.
Slowly, with the relaxed coldness that could only be obtained through a lifetime of rich living, three soldiers emerged.
Though vastly different in appearance, all three had the same chiseled faces and sharp, piercing eyes, noses curled up in disgust at the people around them.
Sam shivered as a cold that had nothing to do with the rain overcame him. It didn't take a genius to realize that these people weren't here to reward or recruit anybody.
"Pitiful villagers!" The bleach-blonde haired man yelled. "Cease your babble!"
"Who are you?" Somebody yelled.
"Who I am is of no importance to you." He sneered and stepped forwards. His companions stepped forwards with him.
"What we are doing here is an entirely different matter." The blonde woman smiled with a chilling mixture of malice and mischief.
They looked at one another, as if sharing a sinister secret that the villagers weren't worthy of understanding.
"Well what are you doing here than?" Another man asked.
The red haired soldier stepped forwards, hand on his sword.
"You would do well to respect those better than you." He snarled, stepping towards the person who had spoken.
Sam and Brittney exchanged an alarmed look. This was not the way they'd expected representatives of the King to act...
"Calm yourself Riker, do you really want the blood of the working class on your sword?" The blonde man asked coldly.
"Maybe not." Riker snarled, glaring at the terrified man. "But swords can be cleaned." His nostrils flared and the man flinched backwards. Riker laughed and stepped back near where the blonde woman was pouting animatedly.
"Come on Coal, I wanted to see bloodshed!" She whined.
"Oh you will Savannah." He smiled knowingly. "You do remember our purpose here, right?"
"Oh yeah!" She laughed excitedly, practically vibrating with childish joy. "Well hurry up than! If we go quickly, we can make it to the den by nightfall!"
"Bloodshed...?" Brittney whispered to Sam. He shrugged, worry in his eyes. What was happening?
"Congratulations citizens of Ostvale!" Coal grinned maliciously. "You have the great honour of donating the next peace offering to the King!"
"Peace offering...?" Sam whispered.
"As I'm sure you know, the only reason you get to live, is because the King allows it. I mean, look at this place, you have very little trade, or income. For all intensive purposes, you are completely expendable..." He drawled. "However, your gracious King allows you to pollute this area with your presence, and all he demands in return, is a peace offering. A token, if you will, to show him that you understand who is truly in charge around here."
"I don't like where this is going..." Sam whispered. The crowd was getting antsy.
"What kind of token?" Quinn, in another part of the crowd, wondered aloud. The blonde woman grinned crazily and approached her, giggling insanely.
"Ooh, this one doesn't know what you're talking about Coal!" Savannah howled with laughter and Coal and Riker joined her. "Perhaps you should...explain."
"Well young one." Coal said. "Each fortnight, the King sends his three greatest soldiers around to a random town to collect an offering. This offering is then destroyed in a display of the King's power; we feed it to the dragons." He smiled.
Quinn swallowed deeply and tried to back away from the blonde woman who was still right in her face. An arm wrapped around her shoulder and Riker pulled her into the clearing, several people gasped and jostled forwards.
"What kind of offering?" Quinn whispered, fear evident in her voice.
"A person...a little person, sort of like you." Riker hissed in her ear.
"Wh-what?"
Coal stepped forwards and began to prod her, the other citizens of Ostvale watched in fear and, in several worrisome cases, resignation. Some looked away, as if they didn't want to witness what was to happen next.
"Yes...you'll do nicely." Coal said. "Thank you citizens, we've found our newest offering. We'll be taking this girl to slaughter now, and it would do you well to remember who is truly in charge, or these streets will flood with the blood of its people."
Sam and Brittney turned to each other, eyes wide and mouths dry.
"They're going to kill Quinn!"