Liam had seven years old that year.
Old enough to know right from wrong and to know that there would be a consequence for anything he did wrong. He also knew his mother was the stricter one of his parents and any punishment he deserved would probably be severe.
This was why he hid in his room when he was done with his classes with his tutor, choosing to avoid his mother completely. His father wasn't around either - he was away visiting Ishval on a work trip and meeting old friends so the blow he'd receive from mummy was going to be just awful.
She could tell from the tone of the seething, red-faced man before that her day was going to get much worse than she'd anticipated. Olivier had just been informed by her son's short, stout, long bearded, grey haired and bespectacled tutor of the awful, indescribable, and utterly horrid thing her handful of a seven year old had done now. The old man had been her brother's tutor and her father had insisted that his grandson learn from him.
Olivier kindly reassured the man that the matter would be handled with the utmost discipline expected of her and that she wouldn't let it go so easily. It seemed being a troublemaker was something he carried in his genes and since he was born from two very troublesome individuals - in their younger days at least, that increased his chances and made him doubly so.
She was certain that she would find her little troublemaker hiding under the covers of his room as she marched down the halls of Armstrong manor, her footsteps echoing menacingly with every step she made.
She opened the door with a full force sending it to bang against the wall, the squeal she heard and the little jump she noticed the dragon adorned covers make, reaffirmed her hunch.
"Get out from under the covers, Liam." She roared. The little boy with the blonde head of curls peeked from under his duvet and sat bolt upright when he heard his mother's voice, he knew any attempts to get sympathy from her wouldn't work but he couldn't help himself when he looked her with puppy dog eyes and a small make shift sad face. A look that told her he was sorry and appealed to the heart he knew existed deep down.
It didn't work.
The General neared him, arms crossed, face bearing a god awful scowl and she sat beside him. "Not paying attention because you're bored of lessons, understandable. Being told to listen and choosing not to, somewhat understandable. But throwing a tantrum by tearing your and your teacher's books apart and then running around like a mad person making the an old man chase after you, leading the poor old man outside, to the stables and then blatantly pushing him inside with one of our wildest horses? Not acceptable."
Her blue eyes bore into the little boy's red ones ignoring the pool of tears that were threatening to form. "Not at all!"
"You know what you did was wrong. You know I never tolerate wrong especially when it concerns showing disrespect to your elders but tearing books. Books, Liam! How dare you tear books apart?"
The boy wiped his nose with the back of his hand and avoided his mother's glare, finally admitting defeat and hating that his tactics were not working. His mother was as tough, cold and hard to break as ice.
"Since you insist on acting like an ill-mannered little street urchin. I'll have no other option than to treat you like one. Maybe then you will learn to appreciate the many blessings you have."
Oh no. What is she going to do to me now?
He knew where the sound of those words lead, and he didn't like it one bit.
"Two words, Liam. Uncle Scar."
The little boy's jaw dropped. If anyone was stricter than than his mother or scared him more, it was uncle Scar. Despite the man's high priest position in the newly formed Ishval nation he still did the all sorts of community work and never worried about getting his robes dirty.
"I'm sending you to him tomorrow, and you will stay with him for a month. I'm sure he'll put sense into that stubborn head of yours, teach you a thing or two. Since my punishments don't seem to be working with you."
"But mum! H-he's... Mum! Please don't send me to Ishval!" He didn't want to add that the kids there thought he was a spoiled brat and always made fun of him. She didn't need to know that.
She gave him a glare that snuffed any more protests out of him. He visibly shivered from it and finally hung his little head down, staring despondently at his hands which were formed little fists the knuckles of which turned white as he hopelessly clutched onto the duvet on his lap. A nagging thought came catapulting into his mind, knocking every other thought and making it crumble like the towers he made with his building blocks.
He deserved it because; he really did cross the line this time, didn't he?
Tumblr is good sometimes. People on there give you the most wonderful of ideas and you get to run and roll with them. So this is my second tumblr related oneshot and I enjoyed writing it. This might turn into a series. I can see it. As always Reviews are appreciated. :)