Hello, my good friends.
It is I, Loki.
I am fresh from recently watching Rise Of the Guardians. I've just had a shower, wrote down a quick plot skeleton and I am now presenting my own fic as my Danny Phantom fiction is very close to the end, whilst Homeward Bound has hardly begun, Muhahaha!
Anyway, I must have cried, laughed and died like a messy animation set on loop in that cinema. Dreamworks have really presented themselves with a flipping magnificent chance to pat themselves on the back. AWESOME MOVIE! Watch it before you read this as this fic contains major spoilers.
I'll have to say there were a few plot holes in the movie but they were sort of over looked... NOW! We travel 315 years back to the cold scape of Burgess!
Warning: Contains NO SLASH or established relationships, rated because of curse words and possibility of abuse/whump... I don't trust myself with this character! (set mainly before the events of ROTG).
Disclaimer: As much as I would fangirl all over the place if I did, I don't own ROTG, that master piece belongs to Dreamworks! Oc/cameo characters and plot belong to me! :U
Introduction
~*The spring lambs*~
Jack hated winter. Winter always brought the cold which carried death like a tedious war horse. Of course Jack didn't know war, his father only spoke stories of the dreaded thing to him; his twin brothers and dear sister.
Father was ill again. He always was when it turned cold, sometimes the frozen boy wondered whether the man simply didn't want to watch sheep graze while sitting in the biting snow.
The Saturday morning was just like any other weekday; Jack led the sheep onto the hill so that they could snuffle around in the snow in the vain hope to catch a blade of grass or two. This routine was continuous in the cold months when the ewes were with lamb and the spring lambs were weaning. In the summer they were grazed by the house, where there was no need to sit and watch the dull activity of which the dim livestock partook.
The weary teen yawned into a hand as he silently urged the sun to cascade down into the mountains and not return until he had caught up on his sleep.
Jack had chocolate coloured eyes that matched his flyaway mane of russet hair. He was sitting up against an old, dead tree that lurched from the ground, his legs crossed and arms wrapped around himself, holding his brown over-cloak tightly. The white woollen shirt and small brown open vest doing little to preserve the warmth his lanky body was emanating.
He had been sitting there since dawn and now the sun was steadily beginning to submit to the great moon. There was a band of red in the sky, and Jack couldn't help but feel that tomorrow would be a better day: Red sky at night, shepherds delight. Or so the saying goes; its never been wrong so far.
Tomorrow was particularly good because Sundays were special days. Sundays were the only day in the week where Mother would put her foot down and say Jack needed a day off from herding sheep up the hill, in the freezing cold.
Jack smiled to himself as a spring lamb attempted to suckle from its own mother. The ewe, which was fat with its next lamb, looked tired and angry with this lamb. All the spring lambs were fat and nearly as big as their dams. Though the lambs were greedy and ate the spoiled grass while also trying to thief from their mother's milk preserves.
The mother tiredly forfeit to the demands of her hungry offspring and the lamb had to get down on its knees to find her udders. Jack couldn't help but laugh as the ewe practically rolled her eyes in irritation. He thought about knocking the lamb away, they needed to stop being such parasites, but he decided to stay where he was. It would be soon that these lambs would be taken away forever, either for their families' stomachs or to be sold down at the village.
Let them have their fun, while they still can.
Jack's family were actually a big part of the small village of Burgess. They owned the house that overlooked the village along with the fields upon the hill that overlooked Jack's house. Behind the fields on the top of the hill was the forest. People only went in the forest to hunt the deer or sometimes boar. However the forest was always the line of which Jack focussed his gaze upon because of the wolves.
The cows were kept further down by the village. Jack's family only owned half of the cattle herd, the rest belonged to the butcher by right of an old agreement between the two families. The wolves never bothered with the cows, which was why Jack had to keep his eye on the tree line; they liked the sheep.
Last winter a pair of hungry wolves came down from the mountains to worry the sheep. Jack scared them off with the exception of losing a single ewe and her lamb that had bolted in the panic.
Jack had never of thought he would rather be mauled by wolves than to return home that night. Why? Because his father was a strict bastard that's why.
"Two bloody pups, n' you go fretting the herd!?"
His dad was a little miss-aimed as he thumped the young boy, though he couldn't help but notice his father wasn't so brutal as usual; because in the end, the old git knew that it wasn't his son's fault.
Jack absently rubbed his sides, the very memory made him numb; that's how it is.
The poor go to public school and then work at a young age, much like how his little twin brothers would turn out. Though Jack was born into the Verdandi family at a more favourable time where the sheep herd was abundant and the cattle had lusher grass. Jack went to public school like the other boys in the village before he went back home to be taught by his father. He became the Shepherd. He took the role of his father young and had been out in the winter alone, his father saw no need to lumber up to see if his frozen son was okay after the first warmer months Jack had 'graduated'.
Jack counted himself lucky, Most boys went to work younger than he did. His sister wasn't even allowed to go to school! He knew his mother used to try and teach her, but sometimes his sister would ask a question and his mum: Lilly, would pause and stare out behind her while she considered the enquiry.
Jack didn't like that his sister couldn't attend school, he loathed that his mother, sister and the young woman of the village were set aside because of their gender.
His sister was like a smaller version of his mother, with hair that fell down to the elbows, wonderful brown hair. Her eyes were big, round and intelligent, just like Jack's.
His sister was called Emily, he loved Emily. So he had started to teach Emily what he knew and learnt from school.
Jack also had two little twin brothers. Both were shorter, and shier. The result of their grumpy father, go figure.
Jack's father was like the other husbands in the village: Supreme with hard hits and great expectations. Every boy knew the hard hand and the clip of an ear. It was a common saying: Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.
Although, Jack's father seemed to take the saying a little to literal, making life hell for him. Though the old man seemed to have mellowed as he got older, that or the fat, git was too lazy to reach for the wooden shepherds crook that was hung from a wall above the fire place within the house, just bellow a plaque that read out the very proverb.
He found himself curling in a bit as he recoiled from the cold, the wind seemed to have picked up and the sheep bleated softly to him, waking him from his musing.
The boy sighed softly, the moon appeared to be brighter in its wake, which was a good sign that it was time to move the sheep back down the hill into the only field that had a fence and a gate.
Luckily the ewe's felt the cold and closed in behind him as he trudged through the snow.
The lambs called out softly behind as they too followed.
Jack led the sheep down the hill and waited every now and then as a few would stop and gaze off into the distance. Seeing the sheep gaze so aimless and carefree made Jack feel human, because they didn't know anything.
They did not know of war, of swords and the wild men that stole the farmer's fat pigs. They didn't know of the world beyond where he allowed them to graze or about the village feuds or of their many human fears. The sheep only knew how to be sheep.
Jack found himself leading the sheep into their field, and shut the old wooden gate behind. He made double sure that the string was tight and secure, fearing a repeat of the year they had escaped the field and further scattered all across the hill side. Sheep always felt like scattering at inconvenient times.
The sheep then huddled together in a big cosy group by the wall of the old barn. Jack looked up at the skies as it began to snow for the fourth time that day, behind him the moon was visible, but he didn't care to look at it. The moon would be there tomorrow.
He rubbed his hands together and breathed warm air into them as he continues around the stone building to the house front. The Verdandi house was one of the oldest in the village. The log cabin down by the stream being the very first. Their house was stone with wooden framework whilst the rest of the village were made from mainly wood.
The young boy leaned forward towards the door to open it but was beaten by Emily who appeared to be stoked by his arrival. "Jack's here! Jacks here!" She squeaked in excitement.
Jack chuckled brightly and lifted her up to swing her onto his bony hip and carried his little sister inside, shutting the door as he passed.
Emily was talking to him and he listened only half-heartedly. He was more interested in the warm smell of broth that made his stomach growl angrily; FEED ME!
Emily giggled as Jack placed a cold hand on his abdomen.
"Mommy's waited for you Jack," Emily told him happily, "She said we should eat together, Mummy said its proper to eat at the table together. But we never really do, at least we do but you're not always there."
"That's nice," Jack smiled almost to himself.
The stairs to the second floor were to the left of the hall as you opened the front door. They led up into a smaller corridor with three doors that led to the separate bed rooms.
Back down stairs was the kitchen which opened up into the dining area. In the middle of the hall was the sitting room, where the fireplace was. And then the last room at the end was the door that led to the underground stables where father kept his heavy, hairy work horse: Ben.
There was three other stables and a small area for storing hay and feed. The ramp then lead up to wooden doors into the barn. The wooden doors locked from the inside. This is because the wild men used to steal the cattle or the horses, so the stables were built under the house to protect the more valuable animals.
Jack found himself in the kitchen with his sister hugging him as he supported her weight on his skinny thigh. He found the twins sitting next to each other on the furthest end of the table near to the sink and kitchen area surface. His father was sitting, laying back against his chair on one length. Mother was fussing over the pans that simmered over the open fire.
Jack's father inclined his head to his son who stood staring back before nodding back as not to seem rude.
The man's eyes seemed to trail down to Emily who had her head buried in Jack's neck and he said gruffly, "Can the girl not walk on her own two legs?" Jack allowed Emily to the ground and she looked like she was about to protest before she trotted off to her place at the table.
Jack took off his cloak and leather shoes, further storing them on a metal nail to the side.
The boy then took his own seat next to his sister which happened to be directly opposite his parents.
His mother turned in the pregnant silence and poured broth into six wooden bowls with the use of a ladle.
She then tore a small piece of bread into six pieces, Jack and father getting the biggest. She smiled at Jack who sent a crooked grin back.
His dad turned suddenly and coughed violently away from the table as they waited for him to be okay.
The man turned and the family spoke their vows, thanking god for the food. They ate quietly, Jack was grateful for the broth that slithered down his throat, warming him from the inside. The broth was almost tasteless and heavily water diluted but he didn't mind.
His father then broke the silence as he asked with a rasp, "what you been up to today, boy?"
Jack swallowed and answered with spoon mid-air, "Watching the sheep as usual, sir."
His father seemed to watch him suspiciously before nodding and shovelling another spoonful into his mouth before continuing without looking up "-I want you to take Billy' two lambs tomorrow. Thank him for his help with the roof and then take the bucks to the market."
Jack looked up innocently, "Tomorrow is Sunday..."
"Yes," His Father never looked up as he answered dryly, "Sunday follows Saturday. Then after Sunday it is Monday. How perspective of you."
Jack glared at his half-empty bowl before deciding childishly that he wasn't hungry.
"Eugene..." Lilly paused looking at her husband disdainfully, "You know Sunday is Jacks-"
"Boy's gotta learn, dear," Eugene waved her off, wiping away the foam from the broth off of his bristly chin. "I stayed with the sheep all night, when I was a boy, those sheep need sorting."
His mother seemed to pause before opening her mouth, Eugene raised his hand and called for silence. "I won't have a word of it, woman. Now, I then want you to sort the ewe's from the bucks. Take the bucks down to the village, I've heard that old man, Magwitch is selling some of his bulls. Beat him down to the market will you Jack?"
"Yes, sir," Jack muttered poking at the slosh in his bowl.
"I want no less than two shillings for each one, do you hear me, boy?"
Jack nodded solemnly.
"What?"
"Yes, sir."
His father tucked back into his food, wiping up the stray liquid particles with his share of bread.
The man was broad shouldered, well aged and greying. He had dusty, pale green eyes and black hair or what used to be black was now a dark grey.
He was well fed, rosy cheeked and usually smelled of rum or perhaps something stronger...
Lilly seemed to glower at her husband before snapping at one of the twins to stop slouching. Emily looked side ways at her brother.
Jack ignored her, he knew what she was going to ask...
There was no point in arguing with his father, his father's word was law as it was in many many of the other households. Jack sobered up and began to eat again. Emily was picking at her piece of bread idly as she kept glancing his way. Jack wasn't sure whether she'd be able to keep the question in her mind without distraction so he decided to charge up the next topic of conversation.
"So what is Billy going to do with his old ewes?"
Eugene glanced up looking as if he'd tell the boy to mind his own business before grumbling, " think he was going to pack up with his sheep, said e' was getting too old."
"But he's not as old as you," Jack attempted to humour his dad mildly "-and you've done so well with the sheep."
Of course it was a lie, he caught his mum frowning at him and quickly looked away in shame.
His father seemed to like the praise and he almost purred, " right you are! My boy, I been with that herd for so long. All comes from me, that does."
A small mischievous curve then slithered into position on Jacks lips as he went on, "you're right, sir, I've never seen those ewes so contented in my life."
"a short life you've had too," his dad said proudly, looking up as if to see the herd for himself." they've been contented all the time since I've been around."
"oh, yes," Jack agreed mockingly, avoiding his mothers gaze as he could tell she was pleading him to stop. He was lucky his dad was so stupid and rock headed. "Who needs to readwhen you have such skill with the sheep," Jack grinned inwardly at his dad who paused for a moment, looking uncomfortable with his son revealing that to the younger twins. The two twins looked questioningly at their father, as if they were going to question him about it before he coughed looking annoyed and uncomfortable as he spluttered "-well...yes I suppose."
"-old Greymen down by the inn said you're mutton was the best, dad, he said he's never tasted such good sheep. He'd ask you to write down how many sheep you'd sold last year, I told him you probably wouldn't be able to write it down. Oh, but maybe I'll count the sheep for you so you can tell him yourself, I know there is more than ten_"
"Jack..." his mothers warning flashed light in his eyes like a lost dear as he paused.
Jack had forgotten about the rest of the family as he had demobilised his father in front of them. Father and son were glaring deeply at each other before Jack had figured that his father had caught on by now and the man was rosy with fury.
"Go wait in the sitting room."
Jack back tracked quickly, looking rueful as he stood and left the room.
Lilly paused and told her husband softly, "he doesn't mean it Eugene, he's had a hard day, he'll_"
"Be quiet woman!" Eugene snapped at her and gulped down the rest of his broth.
"think I'm stupid e' does," the man spat, "I'll make sure he doesn't use that head of his again, luck comes if I don't kill him."
The twins were looking wide eyed at their mum. She stood and told them to go to bed, they complied and Emily stayed because daddy wouldn't think to hurt her or at least not like he hurt Jack when her big brother had been unto some sort of tomfoolery.
After Eugene had helped himself to a third helping he stood and strode off to find Jack. Lilly had hoped he had forgotten about the little tantrum but...
Emily secretly hoped that Jack would run away quickly because daddy looked like the radishes that grew in the garden.
Lilly sighed softly and began to ready some warm water, fishing a small jar of honey and rags from the side shelves and placing them on the table after she had placed the cool water over the fire.
She sat and rested her head in her hands.
Emily couldn't help but notice how tired mummy looked but couldn't find much to say to comfort her own mother.
"Jack's in trouble again, mummy," said the small child.
"Jack is nothing but, dear Emily."
They didn't pretend to not hear father shouting at Jack. As usual he read out what was on the plaque, not because he could read but because it had been installed upon his mind.
He was angry that Jack had offended his status of being able to read and write which was none existent.
Jack yelped every now and then and Lilly drowned it out by asking her daughter to count to twenty, Wincing every time the swipe of the shepherds crook cracked the air and collided with her son.
"-9... E-ten...um.."
"Eleven," Lilly told her daughter softly.
Emily was particularly slow. She caught on to things much less as fast as her younger brothers. She was like her father, she just found it hard to understand or remember some things. Though bless her heart she tried.
"Twelth, and then it's thirteen," the little girls face was scrunched in concentration. Lilly never bothered to correct her pronunciation of twelve.
"fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen nineteen..." she paused on her streak before saying proudly, "twenty."
"Good girl" her mum nodded proudly.
"How many sheep does daddy own?"
"32. 16 ewes and 16 lambs."
Okay, so if daddy has four ewes that all have lambs how many is that?"
Emily concentrated hard. Lilly listened as a door shut and heavy foot steps fell upon the stairs.
The silence that followed the distant slam of the door was cold and pregnant. Sure her husband was in an intoxicated daze by now she stood and turned to Emily as she passed through the door:
"Stay here my dear. See if you can answer the question."
Emily nodded though looked a little worried as her mum disappeared down the hall way to the Seating room.
The seating room was a large room. An amber glow nipped at almost every feature of the room as the embers of the fire shone rebelliously. There was a sheep skin rug stretched across the floor as well as a long bench like chair that had leather stretched tightly over every panel.
Jack was sitting in the corner, head buried in his knees.
"Jack?"
She called him softly and reached out to his shoulder.
Jack shifted and looked up at her, she refrained from tearing up at the sight of the perfectly round shiner pasted around his left brown eye.
"Come on, son." She said calmly to maintain her strong, self-aware demeanour.
Her tall, beautiful son stood and she was angry and proud of him. Angry because he was stupid and proud because he was her son.
Jack followed her into the kitchen and she sat him against the table. Emily was looking brightly up at her mum, exploding with an answer.
"What was it Emily?"
"Eight."
Lilly smiled at her daughter, taking the simmering pot from the fire and placing it upon the wooden table. "Now, off to bed Emily."
Emily pouted at her mum but stood to scamper off upstairs, though Jack could hear her pause half-way up and he smiled slightly.
Lilly raised her eyebrows at him as she dipped the rag in the warm water.
The boy shrugged lightly as she rolled her eyes, pointing a finger at his stomach asking to take of his shirt.
Jack did so to show a peach, bony frame. Lilly hummed softly to herself as she assessed the damage. It appeared that Jack had been wise to keep his clothe layers on, he just had one mean, stinging wound on his shoulder.
Lilly was used to cleaning up her son's wounds. Eugene was a hard man, He had driven Jack into detesting him so much that the boy wouldn't mind a beating if he could jab the man himself. Though the size difference was the goal posts between the two.
She dabbed his bruises, softly. She knew that the treatment wouldn't help the boy physically but she knew mentally that her son needed the close, loving contact. She'd always be there for him, She never cared for Eugene now he had changed so much.
"Silly child," She scolded him lightly.
"He treats me like he treats the sheep," Jack told her scathingly.
Lilly inclined her head slightly in confusion as Jack explained, "He uses the sheep, he uses me. He only puts up with us because he needs us, yet if the sheep so far as travels a step from the group he hits them with the crook."
His mother shook her head crudely, "don't compare yourself to a sheep_"
"Don't say he cares about me mum..."
"Okay, I won't," Lilly grinned and her son automatically grinned back. He was always wearing that toothy grin.
"Learn this well, son, tell your kids when they are older..."
Jack's rapt attention was focused on her as she continued "-The world doesn't owe you anything."
And now the boy looked disheartened.
"No, it doesn't. The world did not put you here, on its fresh soil with its tall, old trees because it has an obligation to, it put you here because you have an obligation to it. My father told me this on his death bed. The sun does not rise in the morning for you to see during the day, if you try and change your sleeping pattern the sun will not change its own pattern for you. The moon does not shine at night to show you your own way, because you have to find it yourself. No matter how hard Eugene will hit you, how many sheep will die in a blizzard or how hungry you are... the world will not help you. God gave us free will."
"So I owe something to the world? Is that it?" Jack asked sulkily.
Lilly nodded, smiling to herself "-you will understand."
She passed him his top.
"Now, I have a favour to ask," She told him and waited for the apprehension to dawn on his face, "I know its a task but please do not aggravate you're father."
There was a pause before Jack nodded and his mum hugged him tightly.
"I love you, Jack. Do you know that?"
"Of course I do."
"Then go to bed."
Jack laughed, hopped off of the table and paused, seeing Emily trying to scrabble up the stairs. She was ashamed to be eavesdropping.
"It's rude to do that Emily," Jack told her mildly, "You know who gets angry when you misbehave?"
"Santa?" Emily asked slowly.
Jack grinned evilly, "The boogie man!"
Emily squeaked and ran up the stairs in terror.
Jack closed in after her as she ran into the room she shared with the twins, slamming the door so Jack couldn't enter.
Laughing to himself though aching and regretting being coy with his father he returned to bed.
As soon as his head hit the thin, pillow he was out like a light.