It May Have Been....
by
Fizzle!
-- AUTHOR'S NOTE : I really enjoyed David Eddings books, so I thought I'd write a fanfic for them. What a pleasure to know that there are other David Eddings fans out there! In one of the books, ( I think t'was the 'Seeress Of Kell' ) the dry voice in Garion's mind told him that if he hadn't gone his adventures and stuff, he would have married Zubrette. So I was thinking...what would have happened if he hadn't gone a-adventuring in the Belgariad? That's what this fic will focus on...I hope you like it!
Due to some review's I received , I have rewritten this story using an editor. YAY!
DISCLAIMER : I own none of these characters, or anything mentioned in this story. The only thing I do own is the story itself. Nothing in it.
NOW "IT MAY HAVE BEEN..." STARTS --
Garion wandered around aimlessly, kicking little pebbles along. Life at Faldor's Farm had taught him to expect good food, to feel safe and to live a healthy, hearty life. Of course, anybody who lived with Aunt Pol would have been whipped down to the very model of obedience, not to say that Aunt Pol actually used a whip, because she didn't. Just one look, one glare would stifle anybody. Garion remembered what she had done to Zubrette one day, when Zubrette had dared to run away after Doroon had fallen out of a tree.
Garion frowned. Actually, he had never known what Aunt Pol had sone to Zubrette. He hadn't been allowed to watch. But it had been something awful, to make Zubrette cry as she did.
Zubrette. A dreamy smile lit his face. Zubrette, to Garion, meant thick, blonde hair...full, rose-red lips...wide eyes...and lots of candy. Zubrette was crazy over sweets.
"Sweets for the sweet," said Garion out loud. A quick scowl crossed his face when he thought of Doroon and Rundorig. They were his best friends, of course, except when it came to Zubrette!
But Garion dismissed that thought - surely Zubrette liked him best?
"Aunt Pol!? I'm home! " he shouted, going round the back and banging on the kitchen door. That was Aunt Pol's territory...the kitchen. Garion fumbled with door, and he walked in. "Aunt Pol?" The kitchen was empty. Which was, as Garion very well knew, unusual.
Aunt Pol bounded into the kitchen, all spirit and vim. "What have you been up to, Garion?" she shot at him, hurrying towards the stove.
"Nothing! Why do you always assume I've been up to something?! I'm not a little boy anymore, Aunt Pol!" Garion began in an injured tone. This, unfortunately, was fairly common, the continuous sparring between Aunt Pol and Garion. Garion held it in his view that Aunt Pol still treated him like a child when he wasn't. He was 15 years old*! Aunt Pol's view was that Garion would be told whatever he should know, and all in good time.
"Because," she explained patiently. "You always are."
Garion scowled, but at that moment, Mister Wolf walked in. "Mister Wolf! I didn't know you were back! It's been 5 years!" cried Garion happily, but the smile left his face as he realized that once again, Aunt Pol hadn't told him something. "Aunt Pol! Why didn't you tell me?"
Aunt Pol wiped her hands on apron and rolled her eyes. "Old Wolf never told me! You know, Garion, you've got too much curiosity! Much more than the average Sendarian boy!"
"Pol, what have you been doing to him?" chuckled Mister Wolf.
"Old Wolf, I suggest you do what you do best, which is drinking and parading about, and I do what I know how to do better than you, if not best!" replied Aunt Pol tartly.
"Pol, Pol...you're too much!" Mister Wolf was laughing, with tears spilling out of his eyes. "Do you remember that day, when I asked you to look after the lad-"
"That 'lad' is right here," warned Aunt Pol. "Oh, Wolf, you are so lucky I'm in a good mood..."
"I think I'm going to have to chance that, Pol," he said, beginning to look solemn. "I need to talk to you."
Aunt Pol looked like she understood, so she shooed Garion away. "Garion, dear, why don't you go see what Zubrette is up to, now?"
Garion glared at her mutinously, but with Aunt Pol, disobeying was simply not on the agenda, so he did so. He deliberately walked to the door as slowly as possible. Once he was outside, he decided to just cut away to Zubrette's as fast as he could.
Faldor's Farm was a small neighborhood, but a peaceful and happy one, as it was staunchly Sendarian. Sendaria values were noble in a simple way, and unfairly sober. It wasn't common for a Sendarian to get drunk. Zubrette lived in the house on the corner of the one street which made up Faldor's Farm. It was bright yellow, by some freak of nature, and pretty little shrubs surrounded it.
Garion knocked for her, and she answered the door, looking elusive and elegant in the door's frame. Her thick, sunshine hair had been tied into a loose braid, and a smile graced her face. "Garion! What are you doing here?" she asked.
"Aunt Pol shoved me outta the house again. Thought I'd come see you again. Is that alright?" He felt rather wretched to be asking such a thing.
Zubrette flipped her braid coyly. "Of course...would you like to go round back? To the garden?"
"Whatever suits you suits me!" Garion grinned at her. She dragged him to the dimly lit garden. It was past sunset, and it was the time when the world could only be described as blue, so Garion mentally assumed it must be dusk.(As a matter of fact, it was dusk!)
"Anything new?" Zubrette asked in a casual tone.
"I wish Aunt Pol didn't always treat me like a little kid!" grumbled Garion.
"Aw, don't worry..." Zubrette inched closer to Garion. "You know something? I saw Doroon yesterday..."
Garion's mental senses screamed red alert. "What did he want?" asked Garion cautiously. She smiled a smug smile. Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"He wanted to know," She paused to pat her hair. "If I would marry him."
Garion groaned. This was the last straw. If things could get worse...they would, they DID! But he was still curious as to when exactly Zubrette's wedding date was set. "What did you say?"
Zubrette flirtatiously twirled a strand of her hair. "Well...it would be good for a girl to get settled so soon..." Garion started to slump over. That skinny little -! Garion felt his wrath at Doroon rising. "But I said no..."
Silence. "What? You refused him? W-why?" Garion stammered.
-----------------------------------------------------------
~~~~~The next chapter will along soon...~~~~~~~~~
*I wasn't sure if Garion's age was 14 or 15!!!!!!!
by
Fizzle!
-- AUTHOR'S NOTE : I really enjoyed David Eddings books, so I thought I'd write a fanfic for them. What a pleasure to know that there are other David Eddings fans out there! In one of the books, ( I think t'was the 'Seeress Of Kell' ) the dry voice in Garion's mind told him that if he hadn't gone his adventures and stuff, he would have married Zubrette. So I was thinking...what would have happened if he hadn't gone a-adventuring in the Belgariad? That's what this fic will focus on...I hope you like it!
Due to some review's I received , I have rewritten this story using an editor. YAY!
DISCLAIMER : I own none of these characters, or anything mentioned in this story. The only thing I do own is the story itself. Nothing in it.
NOW "IT MAY HAVE BEEN..." STARTS --
Garion wandered around aimlessly, kicking little pebbles along. Life at Faldor's Farm had taught him to expect good food, to feel safe and to live a healthy, hearty life. Of course, anybody who lived with Aunt Pol would have been whipped down to the very model of obedience, not to say that Aunt Pol actually used a whip, because she didn't. Just one look, one glare would stifle anybody. Garion remembered what she had done to Zubrette one day, when Zubrette had dared to run away after Doroon had fallen out of a tree.
Garion frowned. Actually, he had never known what Aunt Pol had sone to Zubrette. He hadn't been allowed to watch. But it had been something awful, to make Zubrette cry as she did.
Zubrette. A dreamy smile lit his face. Zubrette, to Garion, meant thick, blonde hair...full, rose-red lips...wide eyes...and lots of candy. Zubrette was crazy over sweets.
"Sweets for the sweet," said Garion out loud. A quick scowl crossed his face when he thought of Doroon and Rundorig. They were his best friends, of course, except when it came to Zubrette!
But Garion dismissed that thought - surely Zubrette liked him best?
"Aunt Pol!? I'm home! " he shouted, going round the back and banging on the kitchen door. That was Aunt Pol's territory...the kitchen. Garion fumbled with door, and he walked in. "Aunt Pol?" The kitchen was empty. Which was, as Garion very well knew, unusual.
Aunt Pol bounded into the kitchen, all spirit and vim. "What have you been up to, Garion?" she shot at him, hurrying towards the stove.
"Nothing! Why do you always assume I've been up to something?! I'm not a little boy anymore, Aunt Pol!" Garion began in an injured tone. This, unfortunately, was fairly common, the continuous sparring between Aunt Pol and Garion. Garion held it in his view that Aunt Pol still treated him like a child when he wasn't. He was 15 years old*! Aunt Pol's view was that Garion would be told whatever he should know, and all in good time.
"Because," she explained patiently. "You always are."
Garion scowled, but at that moment, Mister Wolf walked in. "Mister Wolf! I didn't know you were back! It's been 5 years!" cried Garion happily, but the smile left his face as he realized that once again, Aunt Pol hadn't told him something. "Aunt Pol! Why didn't you tell me?"
Aunt Pol wiped her hands on apron and rolled her eyes. "Old Wolf never told me! You know, Garion, you've got too much curiosity! Much more than the average Sendarian boy!"
"Pol, what have you been doing to him?" chuckled Mister Wolf.
"Old Wolf, I suggest you do what you do best, which is drinking and parading about, and I do what I know how to do better than you, if not best!" replied Aunt Pol tartly.
"Pol, Pol...you're too much!" Mister Wolf was laughing, with tears spilling out of his eyes. "Do you remember that day, when I asked you to look after the lad-"
"That 'lad' is right here," warned Aunt Pol. "Oh, Wolf, you are so lucky I'm in a good mood..."
"I think I'm going to have to chance that, Pol," he said, beginning to look solemn. "I need to talk to you."
Aunt Pol looked like she understood, so she shooed Garion away. "Garion, dear, why don't you go see what Zubrette is up to, now?"
Garion glared at her mutinously, but with Aunt Pol, disobeying was simply not on the agenda, so he did so. He deliberately walked to the door as slowly as possible. Once he was outside, he decided to just cut away to Zubrette's as fast as he could.
Faldor's Farm was a small neighborhood, but a peaceful and happy one, as it was staunchly Sendarian. Sendaria values were noble in a simple way, and unfairly sober. It wasn't common for a Sendarian to get drunk. Zubrette lived in the house on the corner of the one street which made up Faldor's Farm. It was bright yellow, by some freak of nature, and pretty little shrubs surrounded it.
Garion knocked for her, and she answered the door, looking elusive and elegant in the door's frame. Her thick, sunshine hair had been tied into a loose braid, and a smile graced her face. "Garion! What are you doing here?" she asked.
"Aunt Pol shoved me outta the house again. Thought I'd come see you again. Is that alright?" He felt rather wretched to be asking such a thing.
Zubrette flipped her braid coyly. "Of course...would you like to go round back? To the garden?"
"Whatever suits you suits me!" Garion grinned at her. She dragged him to the dimly lit garden. It was past sunset, and it was the time when the world could only be described as blue, so Garion mentally assumed it must be dusk.(As a matter of fact, it was dusk!)
"Anything new?" Zubrette asked in a casual tone.
"I wish Aunt Pol didn't always treat me like a little kid!" grumbled Garion.
"Aw, don't worry..." Zubrette inched closer to Garion. "You know something? I saw Doroon yesterday..."
Garion's mental senses screamed red alert. "What did he want?" asked Garion cautiously. She smiled a smug smile. Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"He wanted to know," She paused to pat her hair. "If I would marry him."
Garion groaned. This was the last straw. If things could get worse...they would, they DID! But he was still curious as to when exactly Zubrette's wedding date was set. "What did you say?"
Zubrette flirtatiously twirled a strand of her hair. "Well...it would be good for a girl to get settled so soon..." Garion started to slump over. That skinny little -! Garion felt his wrath at Doroon rising. "But I said no..."
Silence. "What? You refused him? W-why?" Garion stammered.
-----------------------------------------------------------
~~~~~The next chapter will along soon...~~~~~~~~~
*I wasn't sure if Garion's age was 14 or 15!!!!!!!