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"My dear, you've moved into the greater world, whether you wished
it or not. As a teacher, as a noble. You've outgrown Discipline.
You're getting ready to take your place on the adult stage. Pasco
was just the beginning."
~Lark, Magic Steps~
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Chapter 5: Are Pillow Fights Romantic?
The horse that Briar was riding was being rather annoying. No, in fact, it was being just a regular pain. Kicking the thing in the sides to try to spur it onward, Briar cursed profusely. With the pace the horse was keeping, Briar sincerely doubted that he would ever get to Discipline.
"Are you coming, or aren't you?" Someone asked in front of him, impatience laced through her voice.
Great, a stubborn horse and Rosethorn. Not an ideal combination.
Briar looked up at his companion and frowned, "It's not my fault that this horse has something against me." With that, he kicked the thing in the side hard, obviously perturbed.
It wasn't a good idea. In fact, it was a really bad idea.
The animal's eyes grew large and instantly reacted by rearing upwards, neighing indignantly. Briar, shocked, pulled back at the reins tightly, forcing the animal to ground on it's bit and go flying upwards more. Waving it's hoofs in the air, the horse flew Briar off it's back. Unfortunately, he still had one foot caught in the stirrup and, when flying off the back of the horse, he found himself upside down.
And Rosethorn was laughing. Laughing hard at that.
Needless to say, Briar didn't find anything amusing about the situation.
When the horse finally calmed down, Briar was able to untangle himself from the stirrup and fall painfully to the ground. Grunting and cursing at the same time, he sat himself into a sitting position, his elbows on his knees. Panting in large surprised breaths, he glared at Rosethorn, who was still laughing at him.
"Shut-up," He growled, running a shaky hand through his hair, "You wouldn't be laughing if it was you."
Her laugh subsided a bit, "You're right," She gasped, unbearable chuckles escaping from her lips, "But it isn't me." Then, opening a satchel attached to her belt, Rosethorn produced an apple. Walking up to the horse, she started feeding it to the angered animal, who, tasting a bit, chewed thoughtfully at it.
Briar looked at her in shock, before stammering, "You. . .you're giving it an apple?!" His eyes opened wide with anger, "But it damn near killed me!"
She looked up at Briar from feeding the horse and frowned crookedly at him, "No, boy, you nearly killed it in fright." She petted the muzzle of the horse, who, in turn, neighed affectionately at Rosethorn. "If it helps you to understand, I'll ride you instead, and if you're not going fast enough, I'll kick you." Putting her hands on her hips, she glared at Briar, who was simply looking back, still angered. Then, coming up to Briar, she pulled him by the ear, "And watch your mouth, young man."
Oh yes, of course. How could he had forgotten? Rosethorn; the most moral of all morals.
Briar rolled his eyes.
Pulling him up to his feet, Rosethorn handed Briar the reigns to his horse. "Here," She instructed tartly, before she went to her own horse, "and this time: don't kick it." With that, she started riding off towards Winding Circle, about a mile ride.
"And this time: don't kick it," Briar mimicked quietly behind Rosethorn, using a annoying voice. Then, with a grunt, he squeezed the sides of the horse before yelling, "Giddy up!" And as if in revenge, the horse took off in a gallop, sending Briar shooting to the back of his saddle, fiddling helplessly with his reigns.
And that's when Briar decided he didn't like horses.
~*~
After about an hour later, and two more bruises from Briar's self-acclaimed stupid horse, they arrived at Discipline. It was turning dusk fast and Briar could hear girly voices inside the cottage.
So the posse had arrived. Briar sighed. It was time to face the music: and that meant hugs.
Fun stuff. Hah.
Rosethorn and Briar tied the horses against the fence post so that they could chew on the grass. Briar wasn't thrilled by the idea; such fine grass wasted on such stupid beasts. However, he could tell Rosethorn would give him one of those, "looks," if he didn't shut his mouth. That was inspiration enough.
Grabbing his sacks off his horse, Briar heard peels of laughter from inside the house. They probably didn't even know he was there yet and that was perfectly all right with him. The longer he could delay having fifty-million hugs, the better.
He glanced nervously at the cottage before he reached inside one of his satchels and produced a small, torn letter. Unfolding it, Briar peered up at Rosethorn hesitantly. She was talking to herself and going through her bags. Sighing to himself, he started to read the letter:
Dear Briar,
Briar reread that part over and over again, confused beyond reason. When he had read it the first time, he was shocked. In fact, he had stared blankly at it for over five or six minutes. Then, Rosethorn started to complain and he had to read the letter as fast as he could. The rest of it simply stated about life, Pasco, for him to come to Discipline in seven months, and bladdy, bladdy, blah. . .
Yet, after all these months, he was still confused as anything at the first part of the letter.
Given it was written by a female, and by Sandry at that, but still. . .
Suddenly, a hand clamped down on his shoulder. Briar jumped in surprise before turning to look at whoever had just touched him. He didn't really have to see anything, for a sharp voice came rang at him, "I thought you'd be in Discipline all ready boy." It was Rosethorn, obviously.
Briar looked at her and then chuckled nervously, "How about you go in first, take all the hugs for me, and I'll just stay behind you."
Rosethorn laughed at him before shaking her head, "You're pretty pathetic, boy. They're just a bunch of girls and you're as pale as death." She came closer to him, "They're a bunch of ninny girls. . ."
". . .Bunch of ninny girls!" Briar interrupted before he pointed towards the cottage, "If you were a guy, you'd know what I mean. They can bury you alive with hugs, believe me, I know from experience. . ."
"Oh, girls!" Rosethorn yelled sing-song, interrupting him in mid-sentence. When he realized what she was trying to do, Briar made an attempt to cover her mouth, but she caught his hand before smirking evilly at him. "Briar's here!" She yelled again, looking down at a horrified Briar.
Briar heard the front door open and he closed his eyes, waiting for the hugs. He started counting mentally.
3. . .2 . . .1. . .
"Briar!" Came an enthusiastic reply from somewhere near him. He opened his eyes slowly, knowing that Rosethorn no longer had hold of his wrists. He could try to make a run for it. However, the chance wasn't given to him due to the fact that arms were already wrapped around his shoulders.
Looking down, Briar raised an eyebrow in surprise. It was Daja who was hugging him now. Though, when she caught his eye, she blushed and stopped hugging him. Instead, she laughed cheerily and then punched him in the arm. "How's it going, Kaq?" She asked jokingly, crossing her arms across her chest.
Briar smiled down at her before sticking his hands in his pockets, "Well, I'd be a lot better if I didn't have the strange feeling that I'm being hunted down by females.
Daja laughed before shaking your head, "I think you should worry. Sandry and Tris have been wondering where you've been all day long." She glanced at him before remarking slyly, "They're probably in the mood for lot's of hugs." She started to walk towards Discipline, and Briar followed.
Briar grimaced. Great, just what he needed.
Sighing, Briar's shoulders drooped and Daja chuckled at him. Patting his shoulder, she said in mock sympathy, "Oh, you poor little boy," She clicked her tongue and shook her head, "You're being bombarded by girls. Poor, deprived child."
Briar glared at Daja in exasperation before smiling and punching her in the arm. "You sure haven't changed that much," Briar noted, "still as smart mouthed as ever." He let Daja laugh at that before he stuck his hands in his pockets, "How about the others?"
Daja shrugged, "Well, you know Sandry and Tris: stubborn and as unmoving as usual." She chuckled before shaking her head, "We all make one kind of friendship, huh?" Glancing up at Briar, she went onward, "We're all a bunch of sly mouths that happened to bond together."
Briar smiled before saying, "Me, a sly mouth?" He shook his head in disbelief, "Naw, I don't think so." Daja simply laughed at him before she opened the door to Discipline.
Hoo, boy. This is going to be an experience.
As he walked inside, Briar looked inside and saw Tris in the kitchen, setting out dishes for what he thought was supper.
Well, one good thing. He came when food was being served.
She turned around, humming something to herself. When she heard the door open, she called out, "Daja, wipe your feet. I DO NOT want to have to sweep that floor again. You know I have that chore. . ."
"Whoa, Coppercurls, no need for you to get your hair in knots." Smiling smugly, Briar put his bags down on the floor and said, "It's just me."
Tris looked up in shock before her eyes widened. Immediately, she dropped the glass she was holding and stared at him with large eyes. The glass broke on the floor, but she hardly noticed.
Daja chuckled, before saying mischievously, "Do you guys need to be re-introduced?"
Briar stared at her. Why did he get the feeling that if someone cut off her tongue, it would do the world a lot of good? He glanced at Tris before smirking, "Well, if you're not gonna give me a hug --and that's fine with me-- I'm gonna go put these bags away. You can keep staring if you really. . ."
He was stopped mid-sentence as Tris let out an uncharacteristic shriek and came running over him, wrapping her arms around him and holding tight.
Whoa. He wasn't exactly expecting that kind of reaction.
Briar chuckled weakly, before gasping, "Yeah, glad to see you too, Coppercurls, but you wanna stop squeezing so tight?" He drew in a sharp breath, "I might just suffocate." Truth be told, it wasn't really a sarcastic comment. He really did feel the breath leaving his lungs.
She stopped squeezing suddenly before she almost pushed away from him and blushed. A frown formed on her face before she pulled back her hair away from her eyes. Briar noticed that her hair had grown nearly to the middle of her back and had straightened a bit. She still had the glasses she once had, and now that she was embarrassed, she pushed them up further on her nose.
"Yes, well," She stammered quietly before she glared up at Briar, "Good to see you too." With that she went back to the table, her back turned to him. "Now, get those shoes off the kitchen floor. I don't want you tracking mud in," She snapped at him.
Briar laughed under his breath. She gave some kind of welcome. Briar wondered how she was when someone came in that she didn't want to see.
Shaking his head, he picked up his bags and took off his shoes just as Tris commanded. He was too tired from the road to argue. To argue with Tris cost energy.
He was about to ask where to put his bags when he heard a voice. Freezing in his tracks, he smiled unconsciously.
"What's going on in here?" The source of the voice came into the room, wiping her hands on her apron. She looked around the room curiously, before her eyes caught Briar. Her blue eyes brightened and a slight curve lighted her lips.
So, she finally showed her face after all these years. Well, she had some questions coming her way. He wouldn't stop until he got his questions answered. . .
"Briar!" Sandry exclaimed, practically skipping up to him.
Oh boy, here comes the hug. Briar simply stood still, waiting for the impact.
Come it did. Sandry wrapped her arms across her neck in girlish glee, oblivious to her childish behaviors. After a few seconds, she pulled back at him and frowned mockingly. "You're late, young man." Her voice was a teasing scold, her face a sarcastically disappointed.
"So sorry, milady. Forgive me, really." He dead-panned before bowing.
Sandry chuckled before returning his bow by dropping a curtsy.
Daja, who had been glancing from Briar to Sandry, laughed. "Didn't I always say you guys were weird?" Picking up Briar's bags, she shoved them into his hands. "Since there are new students in Discipline, we're going to have to sleep in the attic for awhile, and. . ."
"The attic!" Briar bit in, turning to Daja, a shocked expression on his face.
"Yes, the attic." Sandry replied tartly, grabbing his bags out of his hands. "Lark set some cots up there so that we can sleep up there together."
Briar was about to comment about the sleeping conditions, when Sandry interrupted him, chirping to Tris, "Hey, Tris, you wanna help Briar unpack?" He watched her as she said it. He didn't like the look in her eye, it was almost sly.
And that was never, never, good.
Tris turned around and frowned. Landing her hand on her hip, she
snapped, "What? You can't do it yourself?" Blowing a piece of hair
out of her eyes, she glanced at Sandry, "Plus, I almost got dinner ready."
He watched as Sandry heard her comment. Her face practically
fell. However, her smile still remained on her face, but as she turned
to look at him, her smile became nervous. "All right," she drawled,
"let's go you Street Rogue." With that, Sandry started skipping towards
the stairs, carrying his bags in her arms.
Great, he had to keep up with her now. Things were getting better by the minute.
Jogging to keep get in step with her, he stopped and picked up one of his bags and threw in over his shoulder. Sandry looked up at him in surprise before smiling. And, on cue, he smiled back.
And you'd think he would've outgrown that smile thing. But, good luck had always been on his side. . . not.
Briar blew a piece of hair out of his eyes and then asked nervously, "We done with hugs for today?"
Sandry laughed before she turned to him and smiled. "Oh, I'm not quite sure. We'll see about later, huh?" She smiled again at him, before looking ahead. It was then that Briar saw something strange about her. Her usual cherry smile didn't quite reach her eyes. Something clouded it over, and it wasn't just thoughtfulness.
He was about to ask what was going on but Sandry stopped him before he got the chance. "Here's the ladder that goes upstairs to the attic." And in fact, there was a nice looking ladder that lead to a cut-out door at the top. Briar hadn't recollected an attic when he stayed at Discipline, but he it could've been in a cut-out hatch that he just didn't see.
They both headed upstairs, climbing the stairs in a clumsy manner. Briar nearly lost his footing twice, but managed to cover it so that it looked like he meant to do it. To his delight, Sandry didn't even notice his almost-falls. Either that, or she just didn't comment on them.
Nah, she didn't see them.
When they reached the top of the stairs, Briar gaped. The whole top was a simple grained wood, but the attic was pretty open aired. The ceiling was about eight feet high and the cots were aligned up against the walls, two at each wall and one on the wall opposite him. Briar supposed that was his bed.
He was right. Sandry ran onto it and jumped on it. "This is your bed," She said as she giggled, while she jumped on her knees.
"All right, all right." Briar said as he watched amusedly as Sandry bounced childishly on the bed, "If it's my bed, get off it." With that, he made shooing motions with his hands, and threw his bag next to the bed.
Sandry merely frowned at him before she bounced one more time and landed with her feet dangling off the edge of his bed. Swinging her feet, she glanced up at him mischievously, "We'll have to work on Tris, right?"
Briar popped his head up and looked at her through suspicious eyes. That wasn't the first time she had mentioned Tris like that. In fact, the first thing she tried to do was leave him and Tris together. The whole idea was starting to make his seriously suspicious. If not paranoid.
He smiled crookedly at her before sitting next to her on the bed. "You not glad to see me again?" He looked at Sandry and winked.
She simply squirmed nervously under his gaze before smiling. The smile didn't reach her eyes again. "Yes, of course." And then she sighed, before she giggled tensely. She turned to him, sadness in her eyes. "Of course I am."
Briar blinked at her and frowned in concern. He wasn't accustomed to Sandry being horribly sad, or at least, not like this. Feeling awkward under the new aura surrounding them, they both sat in complete silence. And not the good kind of silence.
"Hey," Sandry interrupted, her voice eager again. "Wanna see something?" She turned to him, a semi-sweet smile on her face.
Briar smiled an exasperated smile at her, "I don't have much of a choice in this manner, do I?"
Giggling, Sandry pranced up from the bed and started walking to the far side of the room. When she reached the end of the room, she looked back at Briar and waved a hand at him, "Come on. Hurry up."
Briar sighed before he got up from the bed and started to casually make his way towards the other side of the room.
"Come on," Sandry said through clenched teeth. When Briar was finally about five feet away, Sandry grabbed him by the arm and tugged him forward.
Briar goggled at her. So the noble had a grip. Something to chew on.
"Now," she started, excitement seeping through her smile, "check this out." With that, she threw open two panels which swung open and showed outside of Discipline.
Briar found his breath caught in his throat. The scene in front of him was. . .breath-taking. All of Winding Circle was under sunset, bathed in citrus orange and deep scarlet red. Crickets were chirping in the background and the sun was sitting pretty half-way between being down and being up. The moon was already out, but it was a eerie yellow, set high in the horizon.
"Woah," He breathed finally, eyes wide opened. Sandry simply giggled at his expression before she rested her elbows on the edge of the cut-in window.
"I know," she whispered sweetly, a dreamy smile on her face, "I bet there's not a better view in Winding Circle."
Briar chuckled before he stuck his hands in his pockets. He peered at Sandry, intent on saying something writhing to her, but caught himself. The words just sorta died in his mouth, melting away. Instead, he just stared at her, suddenly aware of how much Sandry had changed. And in a good way.
And, why exactly hadn't be noticed before hand? Maybe because he was as thick-headed as an ox.
He shook his head, but didn't quit looking at her. Her long brown had been braided up on top of her head, but some of the hair had escaped from the braids and fallen in front of her eyes. Her eyes blinked slowly and a sigh escaped her lips. She was oblivious to his stares, and Briar was glad of it. He rather liked to stare.
Sandry put her chin in her hand, letting her long fingers tap unknowingly against her cheek. "Sure is a nice night, huh Briar?" She looked up dreamily at him as he was looking at her. And, in all convenience, she seemed to know why he was staring. She blushed.
Briar blinked out of his aura, slightly embarrassed. Immediately, his defense mechanisms went into auto-pilot and he managed to say something writhing, "Off in your own dreamland again, milady?" He shook his head mockingly, before winking at her, "I always thought you were a bit of a space-case."
All right, he deserved some kind of reward for comebacks. . .
Sandry pursed her lips in cheerful frustration. Raising an eyebrow, she grabbed the nearest pillow and flung it at him. "Ohh, you!" She shrieked through clenched teeth.
He tried to prepare himself for the impact, but he could only throw his hands up to his face in desperation. The pillow found heavy, immediate contact with him, almost knocking him off his feet. And, to his and possibly Sandry's surprise, the pillow split and feathers flew everywhere. As he started to scream, the feathers flew into his mouth and Briar started to choke on them.
Every minute was getting better.
Sandry lowered her pillow in shock, watching as Briar tried to spit feathers out of his mouth. They stood in complete, stunned silence before Sandry burst into happy, shaking laughter. She bent over with laughter, shrieking bursts coming out of her lungs.
"Oh, oh, oh," she stuttered, laughter breaking her words, "I'm
sorry, Briar, but you look really funny!
If it wasn't enough that he had remove feathers from his mouth, he
also had someone laughing at him. Briar stuck his tongue out and
removed another white feather from his mouth. Sandry was still laughing
uncontrollably. He should be mad. Terribly mad. But,
somehow, all he could do was smile.
Removing another feather, Briar glared at Sandry. Still smiling, he grabbed a pillow and said, "So, that's how it's gonna be, eh? Two can play at this game, my dear." With that, Briar swung the pillow at Sandry.
She threw her hands up, but the pillow still hit her. Letting out a shriek, she started to swing her pillow at Briar, feathers flying everywhere.
Briar returned her hit. This time, his pillow split also. Feathers flew in the air.
Soon, both of them were hitting each other non-stop, not taking turns. Needless to say, a pillow fight ensued.
Both of them tried to hide behind anything they could, but both of them found it useless. Briar observed the floor area and saw that it was completely covered with feathers. And more feathers were flying in the air. And more feathers on the beds. Lots and lots of feathers. And when one pillow lost all it's feathers, they would pick another one and start over again.
Briar looked around. Rosethorn and Lark were going to kill them. Right then, though, Briar could care less.
And no one was willing to surrender.
Finally, when all the pillows had been used, Briar managed to grab Sandry's wrist and slap the pillow out of her other hand. She looked up at him in mock-horror, her eyes wide. Her hair had come practically down from the continuous beating received to it. Unable to hold her giggles, she blew a piece of hair out of her eyes.
"Surrender!" Briar gasped through chuckles and panting.
Sandry shook her head and giggled, "Never!"
Grabbing her other wrist, he shook her playfully, "I'll say it again: Surrender!"
Finally, after a large amount of shaking, Sandry finally yelled, "Okay, okay, I give up." She giggled despite her predicament. Then, still giggling, she looked up at him, smiling.
Briar smiled back, cursing himself as he did so. Something was different about this smile she had on her face. It was like it was almost hesitant. Sweet but hesitant.
As her giggles subsided, Sandry looked down at her feet, her eyebrows scrunched up in thought. Then she looked back up at Briar, who was still holding her wrists, through shy eyelashes.
Something was very wrong about the atmosphere. Briar knew he had do something soon or. . .he didn't know. He just knew something was going on. Something not normal.
And he was right.
Sandry reached up and barely brushed her lips next to his. And he didn't even have time to object, for she pressed harder, her lips square on his.
Whoa.
He stood shock-still, afraid to move. He simply held Sandry's wrists, eyes wide open with surprise.
This kiss was like another world compared to the other ones. The other ones were teasing and not real. Or not real in the sense that they meant nothing. This meant something, somehow.
Briar's mind screamed at him to stop it. Sandry was a friend. Friends don't kiss friends. Or not like this at least. He should really just shove Sandry away, tell her that this just isn't supposed to happen. They should just go on living being friends. It had worked nicely before this. Teasing kisses were fine, just as long they didn't turn out like this.
So, what Briar did next, he couldn't understand.
He leaned into Sandry's embrace and kissed her harder. And then everything went hazy, kind like he was in some kind of slow-motion.
All that came recognizable was that the clinch between him and Sandry became closer, and they only stayed that way for a few seconds. Suddenly, like she was struck with lightening, Sandry's eyes flew open. She panicked, pushing away from Briar, who fluttered his eyes open, as shocked as her.
"I. . .I," Sandry stuttered, eyes wide and searching around the room before finding Briar's eyes. "I, oh. . .that wasn't suppose to happen." Wiggling out of his embrace, she glanced at him with tearful eyes before she ran down the stairs of the attic.
Briar watched her go, before he cursed. Loudly.
What exactly was he thinking? Apparently, he wasn't thinking.
Briar walked up to the wall and glared at it.
How many times do you have to knock your head against a wooden wall to knock yourself unconscious?
One, Two, Three, Four. . .ow.
Briar rubbed his head before he sat down on his bed. Looking over his hands, Briar shook his head. This whole predicament wouldn't be such a big deal if there wasn't one fact lingering in the back of his mind. That was that he actually enjoyed it. Yes, he enjoyed the kiss. Or maybe it wasn't that he just enjoyed it, or found it pleasurable. Sure, Briar was sure there were tons of simpering noble idiots who wouldn't mind puckering-up to Sandry. But for some reason, the kiss meant something more, like. . .Briar couldn't place his finger on it. It was just that it had seemed so right, like his whole body had just gone, "Ohhhh, I get it. It all makes sense now."
But that was crazy. . .right?
Plus, Sandry kissed him first. Maybe he was just a victim of strange woman behavior.
However, when Briar thought of this, it sounded weak in his own mind. Sighing, Briar stood up and looked at the stairs. He was going to have to face Sandry somewhere along the line. Might as well get it over with. Maybe he could solve some of the strange questions running through his mind.
With determination, Briar marched downstairs. . .
-- Chapter will continue in next installment.
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Heh, don't kill me for leaving you there. I have my reasons,
I swear! I wanna show Sandry's POV on this whole thing, too.
She's going through a little more turmoil than you may think.
Anywho, thanks for reviews. I'm so lucky to have people who
are devoted to the story. Thanx a billion.
Until the next installment, see ya!