deep breath, deep breath
random bit of an AU idea here today.
Secret of Kells © Cartoon Saloon
1
Bren knew he was human, or at least that he wasn't what his parents and sister were.
He had straight red hair, they had curls of white. He was slow and felt frail, they were fast and stronger than anything else in the forest. His big sister exclaimed that he got bigger every time she blinked, and she looked the same no matter how far back he searched in his memory.
His differences didn't bother him much. Aisling told him that she'd asked Mother for a brother, a good brother, and out of every baby in the world, he was the one that she picked. And he could do things that no human could seem to do—race up trees without a thought, endear himself to any animal no matter how vicious, sleep within the trees without fear of becoming unwell. (Although Mother's magic might be responsible for that last one.)
He secretly thought he could do things his family couldn't do either, but he never wanted to. Why go behind walls or into one of their strange holy places without being invited?
And the people who built the walls stayed there. He couldn't imagine living without the beauty of their forest.
2
"I don't know your real name."
"Didn't you give it to me, though?"
"No, dear." The Queen laughed. "You picked it yourself. It was the only thing you could say, along with 'no'. But that isn't a bad thing."
"Really?"
"Really. Names have power, after all."
"Magic power?"
"Yes, magic power. Power over the people who have it, and that can be used against them. Nobody knows your real name, so nobody has that power over you."
"Not even you?"
"Not even me."
3
There were people traipsing through the forest. Constantly. They'd learn why later, but they didn't care much for that when it started. There were just too many, and it filled everything with a buzz of agitation.
And then Aisling and Bren decided to do something about it.
Aisling ran with her wolves to chase them out. Bren perched above the footpaths and leapt down to tear whatever they held away, and let them chase him until they were exhausted and stumbling and lost, until he lured them through the mist and dropped whatever it was outside the limits.
Switch and repeat until they gave up.
Most fled elsewhere—and the number of travelers dropped significantly.
"They must be telling stories about us," Aisling said, brushing her palm over a mother wolf's head after three weeks in a row of waiting and watching. "Telling everyone to keep away from the fearsome wolves and the thief ghost."
Bren agreed and hoped that they would last.
As it turned out, they didn't. An old man showed up the very next day.
The wolves worked for a day or so, but instead of running and staying away, he went around and came in from another path. It was time for Bren to step in.
He had to track him a little first—he was surprisingly fast for such an old human. It was only for a day or so before he leapt from a tree and tore the oddly-shaped satchel from the old man's grip, ignoring his cry and the cat's hiss.
Bren darted through bushes and around trees, wincing a little as the man crashed through most of them.
"Wait!"
It was farther from the edge of the forest than he'd realized. He couldn't climb up a tree, or the old man would lose him, but if he kept running along the ground it would take hours.
"Please—!"
An old man and a cat weren't much of a threat…but if he let in one, who knew how many would follow?
He slowed his pace somewhat when he heard a rip and a thud. When he didn't hear anything after but increasingly desperate mews, he doubled back entirely.
The man lay flat on the ground, with the white cat nuzzling at his face. From the tear in his sleeve, it seemed it had caught on a branch and knocked him off balance enough to slam his head into a particularly sturdy trunk.
Bren felt something seize in his chest. He hadn't killed anyone before…
Aisling wasn't there.
He ran.