Chapter Three
By Amythest Stone
AN- Well, more reviews, another chapter ^_~ Love you all!! Thanks so much, I love reviews and in fact I love writing this story. I dunno why....^_^ maybe its cause I've got a bunch of good reviewers!
KarateElf- Nope no killing or at least I don't PLAN on killing. ^_^ I'm making this as realistic as possible. I want it to seem as though it could've happened since we know so little about the time Will spent as a squire under Ector. Thanks for the review! I love reviews!
Alaman- ^_^ Well, here's your chapter! I'm glad you're liking the story. It's going to pick up soon; at least I hope it is! ^_^ Mucho thanks for the review!
Mandy- Yes, poor Will. It's only going to get worse for him. I love him but he's so fun to torture! Molto grazi for the review!
DJRocky99- PFFFFTTT!!!! YOU MAY KNOW WHERE I LIVE BUT YOU REIVEWED THE WRONG CHAPTER!! Hahaha, you could've read more :P or you were just to lazy to read on or something! lol, thanks for the review All mighty Tizrack! ^_~ keeps me going as you know.
On with the chapter!
~*~
Sir Ector immediately rushed to his apprentice's side. The boy was laying perfectly still, his breathing rapid. Gently, the knight turned him over drawing him into his lap. He was so pale. A bit of panic touched him. What had just happened?
He didn't have much time to ponder because the young man in his arms started. He rolled out of the knights comforting grasp and lay on the ground gasping. His eyes were staring blankly ahead, not seeing a thing, or so it seemed, clutching the grass.
The entire thing lasted less than a minute, and then the young squire was sitting up, rather dazed but completely there. He glanced around a bit, trying to remember exactly what had happened.
Oh, yeah, he had saved his master's life and the man hadn't even acknowledged him. The boy felt anger bite into him, amplified in his hazy mind do to the fever raging in his body. Did his master really take punishment so seriously that the he wouldn't acknowledge his apprentice for saving his life?
Slightly glazed eyes fell upon the knight, and anger struck anew. He wasn't doing anything now either!
But Sir Ector was doing something. He was taking in his apprentice's appearance, making sure he wasn't injured and confirming he had just had a slight faintly spell. The boy's face was slightly contorted with what appeared to be anger.
"William, are you alright?" the knight asked with more than a little concern. The boy looked ill but he wasn't acting it anymore.
"Fine, sir." The boy was getting to his feet. "I was just feeling a bit light headed, that's all."
Sir Ector wasn't so sure.
"I think you better rest for a little while," he said gently. The apprentice scowled deeper. If his master was so set on punishing him why was he being so gentle and passive now?
"I'm fine, master," the boy snapped, as he made his way over to the still unhappy cart horse. "We should leave or Roland and Wat will reach the tournament before we do."
The master found himself angry now. The boy had tricked him, or so it appeared. He looked only a tad pale now and he was being sharp. None of his apprentices were ever this sharp towards him. In fact, none of them were ever sharp towards him at all. He raged silently at his foolishness at forgetting the punishment.
Quietly, he stood and began to untie his own horse. If the boy wanted to act this way then he would continue the punishment. The voice that was whining about illness was growing fainter in the back of his mind. He snorted softly as he led the horse away to saddle it. The punishment would go as planned and they would get to the tournament as planned. No exceptions.
William watched his master leave, confirming his thoughts. All his master cared about was the punishment. He didn't care if his squire was becoming ill or if he saved his life. He didn't care about anything at all. The boy gently led the horse over to the cart to hook it up. The unbearable heat hadn't lessened and something told him it wouldn't lessen for quite some time. Oh well, time to think about that later. For now, the punishment was the priority.
~*~
Sir Ector sat quietly, sipping the remnants of the wine and looking up at the bright stars. The little voice was nagging him again. It was telling him that the boy most certainly wasn't 'just fine'. He was ill. He had to be.
The other voice was reminding him of what the boy had done that afternoon. That voice was louder, and more persistent. That voice was winning the fight and his mind had settled on it. The boy was trying to get out of his punishment by feigning illness. Anger made the knight's face twitch a bit. He was still angry about the incident.
His eyes wandered down to his apprentice, who was asleep on his blankets. The boy hadn't had anything to eat; he had simply done what he needed to do for the moment and collapsed onto the makeshift bed. The knight considered rousing him to finish what needed to be done but he couldn't bring himself to wake the boy. He was resting peacefully and the day had been a long one.
*You are such a softy* he thought a bit sourly, looking back up at the stars. *If you were only a bit more firm...*
~*~
William was dreaming.
^His arm hurt terribly as he ran down the streets of Cheep side. He ignored it though, trying to get away from the jeering that seemed to follow him where ever he went.
"Your father wants to get rid of you!" they had said, "Your father wants to get rid of you because you are too much to deal with! He thinks you cost too much to keep around so he is going to apprentice you as soon as possible!"
He had told them that it wasn't true. His father loved him! His father thought him to be the best thing in the world! His father wanted the best for him! His father wanted him to change his stars...
But in the end they won. His father DID want to get rid of him. He wanted to get him away so he would have more money and be able to get new and better things. He didn't love or want him. He wanted to be free of responsibility.
The small seven year old choked out a sob and rested against a wall. His arm hurt and so did his head. He slid down the wall, clutching the pained appendage close, crying all the harder.
They had beaten him up on top of it all. They had stomped out his dreams and then stomped on his body. He shivered as the rain that had been biting into him grew colder.
What was he going to do? He couldn't go back home! His father didn't love him anymore, so he wouldn't burden the man with his presence. But then again, he had no where else to go!
Maybe someone would apprentice him. That was it, he would find someone who would take him on! He would take care of the job for his father and things would get better. He could become a blacksmith or perhaps, maybe, a knight?
Another sob erupted from his throat as these thoughts crossed his mind. He didn't want to do things on his own. He simply wanted his father. He wanted his father to tell him everything was alright and that he would never stop loving him.
In an alleyway three miles from his home, a small child fell asleep in the cold rain on the dirty, disgusting road.
He awoke sometime later and it was dark. The rain had turned into a miserable drizzle, reflecting his mood. His arm was throbbing painfully, while his head seemed ready to explode. He shuddered involuntarily, feeling unbearably cold.
He sniffled as he remembered why he was where he was. His eyes began to tear again but he stubbornly resisted the urge to cry. He simply couldn't.
Someone was shouting nearby. He strained his ears to hear what the words were feeling dizzy and uncomfortable.
"William! William! Where are you, lad?" Someone was shouting for him! No, perhaps it was just another child named William. He most certainly was not the only boy in Cheep side named William.
He curled up around his injured arm and tried to block out the noise. It offended his ears, causing his head to hurt worse. He rolled over and whimpered as his arm let off a new stab of pain.
"William? William is that you?" The voice was closer now, so close and familiar. Footsteps sounded close by. Someone gently put a hand on his shoulder, rolling him over so he could see the grey clouds. His father was leaning over him, worry marring his face like scars.
"Oh William, where have you been? I've been looking all over for you!" he exclaimed, resting a gentle hand on his son's face. William nearly started crying again.
"I'm sorry for being a burden, father," he choked out. "I never wanted to make you not love me! If you really didn't want me around you could've just asked me to leave." Tears started streaming involuntary down his face.
John Thatcher looked horrified. Before the boy could speak another word, he scooped him up into his arms.
"Don't say that!" he exclaimed, fighting tears. "I love you! I'd never not want you!" He held his child close, feeling the shivers wracked the small frame. "I love you so much, William. What would ever make you think that I would not want you?"
"They said-" The boy began but found himself unable. His injuries were bothering greatly and he let out a soft whimper instead. The Thatcher knew what the boy was speaking of. The other children always said vicious things but he never expected this. His son looked so small and pale and now it was obvious that he was ill and hurt. He would speak to those children later.
His Father stood and kept him close, sharing the bit of body heat he had. Will leaned into him, glad for the comfort and the warmth. How could he ever think that his father didn't love him?
"Don't ever listen to them, Will," he murmured gently. "I love you very much and would never want to get rid of you. Let's get you home and dry. Then I'll fetch a surgeon to see to your arm."
Will sniffled softly in response just savoring the fact that his father was there and everything would be alright. Everything would be just fine...^
~*~
William woke with a start. The fire was out, letting the bright stars over head shine their brightest. Across from him, Sir Ector was asleep upon his bed, oblivious to the world. The young man let out a soft moan, rolling over, trying to get back to sleep.
The memory...the last time he had felt so ill was then. He had come down with a case of pneumonia and his arm was badly broken. The whole time, however, his father had been there, taking care of him.
A stray tear trickled down his cheek. He wished his father was with him now to take care of him. He felt so sick, so alone. He wanted someone to be there to reassure him.
With melancholy thoughts, he fell back into a restless sleep.
~*~
So, it's not a cliffie! ^_^ yay! Always thought that John and Will had a really good relationship from what I saw. He seemed to really care about Will. ^_^ yeah, anyway... I plan to keep this story rolling while I can. I've got three big tests tomorrow but that's it for big things this week! Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up soon!
Next Chapter- Of Bridges and Chaucer (YAY!)
R/R
By Amythest Stone
AN- Well, more reviews, another chapter ^_~ Love you all!! Thanks so much, I love reviews and in fact I love writing this story. I dunno why....^_^ maybe its cause I've got a bunch of good reviewers!
KarateElf- Nope no killing or at least I don't PLAN on killing. ^_^ I'm making this as realistic as possible. I want it to seem as though it could've happened since we know so little about the time Will spent as a squire under Ector. Thanks for the review! I love reviews!
Alaman- ^_^ Well, here's your chapter! I'm glad you're liking the story. It's going to pick up soon; at least I hope it is! ^_^ Mucho thanks for the review!
Mandy- Yes, poor Will. It's only going to get worse for him. I love him but he's so fun to torture! Molto grazi for the review!
DJRocky99- PFFFFTTT!!!! YOU MAY KNOW WHERE I LIVE BUT YOU REIVEWED THE WRONG CHAPTER!! Hahaha, you could've read more :P or you were just to lazy to read on or something! lol, thanks for the review All mighty Tizrack! ^_~ keeps me going as you know.
On with the chapter!
~*~
Sir Ector immediately rushed to his apprentice's side. The boy was laying perfectly still, his breathing rapid. Gently, the knight turned him over drawing him into his lap. He was so pale. A bit of panic touched him. What had just happened?
He didn't have much time to ponder because the young man in his arms started. He rolled out of the knights comforting grasp and lay on the ground gasping. His eyes were staring blankly ahead, not seeing a thing, or so it seemed, clutching the grass.
The entire thing lasted less than a minute, and then the young squire was sitting up, rather dazed but completely there. He glanced around a bit, trying to remember exactly what had happened.
Oh, yeah, he had saved his master's life and the man hadn't even acknowledged him. The boy felt anger bite into him, amplified in his hazy mind do to the fever raging in his body. Did his master really take punishment so seriously that the he wouldn't acknowledge his apprentice for saving his life?
Slightly glazed eyes fell upon the knight, and anger struck anew. He wasn't doing anything now either!
But Sir Ector was doing something. He was taking in his apprentice's appearance, making sure he wasn't injured and confirming he had just had a slight faintly spell. The boy's face was slightly contorted with what appeared to be anger.
"William, are you alright?" the knight asked with more than a little concern. The boy looked ill but he wasn't acting it anymore.
"Fine, sir." The boy was getting to his feet. "I was just feeling a bit light headed, that's all."
Sir Ector wasn't so sure.
"I think you better rest for a little while," he said gently. The apprentice scowled deeper. If his master was so set on punishing him why was he being so gentle and passive now?
"I'm fine, master," the boy snapped, as he made his way over to the still unhappy cart horse. "We should leave or Roland and Wat will reach the tournament before we do."
The master found himself angry now. The boy had tricked him, or so it appeared. He looked only a tad pale now and he was being sharp. None of his apprentices were ever this sharp towards him. In fact, none of them were ever sharp towards him at all. He raged silently at his foolishness at forgetting the punishment.
Quietly, he stood and began to untie his own horse. If the boy wanted to act this way then he would continue the punishment. The voice that was whining about illness was growing fainter in the back of his mind. He snorted softly as he led the horse away to saddle it. The punishment would go as planned and they would get to the tournament as planned. No exceptions.
William watched his master leave, confirming his thoughts. All his master cared about was the punishment. He didn't care if his squire was becoming ill or if he saved his life. He didn't care about anything at all. The boy gently led the horse over to the cart to hook it up. The unbearable heat hadn't lessened and something told him it wouldn't lessen for quite some time. Oh well, time to think about that later. For now, the punishment was the priority.
~*~
Sir Ector sat quietly, sipping the remnants of the wine and looking up at the bright stars. The little voice was nagging him again. It was telling him that the boy most certainly wasn't 'just fine'. He was ill. He had to be.
The other voice was reminding him of what the boy had done that afternoon. That voice was louder, and more persistent. That voice was winning the fight and his mind had settled on it. The boy was trying to get out of his punishment by feigning illness. Anger made the knight's face twitch a bit. He was still angry about the incident.
His eyes wandered down to his apprentice, who was asleep on his blankets. The boy hadn't had anything to eat; he had simply done what he needed to do for the moment and collapsed onto the makeshift bed. The knight considered rousing him to finish what needed to be done but he couldn't bring himself to wake the boy. He was resting peacefully and the day had been a long one.
*You are such a softy* he thought a bit sourly, looking back up at the stars. *If you were only a bit more firm...*
~*~
William was dreaming.
^His arm hurt terribly as he ran down the streets of Cheep side. He ignored it though, trying to get away from the jeering that seemed to follow him where ever he went.
"Your father wants to get rid of you!" they had said, "Your father wants to get rid of you because you are too much to deal with! He thinks you cost too much to keep around so he is going to apprentice you as soon as possible!"
He had told them that it wasn't true. His father loved him! His father thought him to be the best thing in the world! His father wanted the best for him! His father wanted him to change his stars...
But in the end they won. His father DID want to get rid of him. He wanted to get him away so he would have more money and be able to get new and better things. He didn't love or want him. He wanted to be free of responsibility.
The small seven year old choked out a sob and rested against a wall. His arm hurt and so did his head. He slid down the wall, clutching the pained appendage close, crying all the harder.
They had beaten him up on top of it all. They had stomped out his dreams and then stomped on his body. He shivered as the rain that had been biting into him grew colder.
What was he going to do? He couldn't go back home! His father didn't love him anymore, so he wouldn't burden the man with his presence. But then again, he had no where else to go!
Maybe someone would apprentice him. That was it, he would find someone who would take him on! He would take care of the job for his father and things would get better. He could become a blacksmith or perhaps, maybe, a knight?
Another sob erupted from his throat as these thoughts crossed his mind. He didn't want to do things on his own. He simply wanted his father. He wanted his father to tell him everything was alright and that he would never stop loving him.
In an alleyway three miles from his home, a small child fell asleep in the cold rain on the dirty, disgusting road.
He awoke sometime later and it was dark. The rain had turned into a miserable drizzle, reflecting his mood. His arm was throbbing painfully, while his head seemed ready to explode. He shuddered involuntarily, feeling unbearably cold.
He sniffled as he remembered why he was where he was. His eyes began to tear again but he stubbornly resisted the urge to cry. He simply couldn't.
Someone was shouting nearby. He strained his ears to hear what the words were feeling dizzy and uncomfortable.
"William! William! Where are you, lad?" Someone was shouting for him! No, perhaps it was just another child named William. He most certainly was not the only boy in Cheep side named William.
He curled up around his injured arm and tried to block out the noise. It offended his ears, causing his head to hurt worse. He rolled over and whimpered as his arm let off a new stab of pain.
"William? William is that you?" The voice was closer now, so close and familiar. Footsteps sounded close by. Someone gently put a hand on his shoulder, rolling him over so he could see the grey clouds. His father was leaning over him, worry marring his face like scars.
"Oh William, where have you been? I've been looking all over for you!" he exclaimed, resting a gentle hand on his son's face. William nearly started crying again.
"I'm sorry for being a burden, father," he choked out. "I never wanted to make you not love me! If you really didn't want me around you could've just asked me to leave." Tears started streaming involuntary down his face.
John Thatcher looked horrified. Before the boy could speak another word, he scooped him up into his arms.
"Don't say that!" he exclaimed, fighting tears. "I love you! I'd never not want you!" He held his child close, feeling the shivers wracked the small frame. "I love you so much, William. What would ever make you think that I would not want you?"
"They said-" The boy began but found himself unable. His injuries were bothering greatly and he let out a soft whimper instead. The Thatcher knew what the boy was speaking of. The other children always said vicious things but he never expected this. His son looked so small and pale and now it was obvious that he was ill and hurt. He would speak to those children later.
His Father stood and kept him close, sharing the bit of body heat he had. Will leaned into him, glad for the comfort and the warmth. How could he ever think that his father didn't love him?
"Don't ever listen to them, Will," he murmured gently. "I love you very much and would never want to get rid of you. Let's get you home and dry. Then I'll fetch a surgeon to see to your arm."
Will sniffled softly in response just savoring the fact that his father was there and everything would be alright. Everything would be just fine...^
~*~
William woke with a start. The fire was out, letting the bright stars over head shine their brightest. Across from him, Sir Ector was asleep upon his bed, oblivious to the world. The young man let out a soft moan, rolling over, trying to get back to sleep.
The memory...the last time he had felt so ill was then. He had come down with a case of pneumonia and his arm was badly broken. The whole time, however, his father had been there, taking care of him.
A stray tear trickled down his cheek. He wished his father was with him now to take care of him. He felt so sick, so alone. He wanted someone to be there to reassure him.
With melancholy thoughts, he fell back into a restless sleep.
~*~
So, it's not a cliffie! ^_^ yay! Always thought that John and Will had a really good relationship from what I saw. He seemed to really care about Will. ^_^ yeah, anyway... I plan to keep this story rolling while I can. I've got three big tests tomorrow but that's it for big things this week! Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up soon!
Next Chapter- Of Bridges and Chaucer (YAY!)
R/R