I'd like to start out by saying that I don't know where this fic is going to go. It could end up in a death, a life, maybe even a romance. Though, probably not romance because I'm just a whole lot worse at writing that kind of stuff. Trust me, I'm bollocks. Anyway, let's not think about that. Let's pretend I'm actually a decent writer and CAN create an enjoyable fic. Just flow with me for a sec, okay?
This, is a story about outlaws. It's about outcasts, wanderers, and all those I've missed- which I'm sure is a lot. Simply, this is a story of boots. You know that much from the title, don't you! How very clever you must have been to figure that out! Good job! I congratulate you! ::hands reader gold star::
Now, to the fic that I'm still thinking about! Yeah! Hoo hah, everyone! HOO HAH.
Tough Leather Boots:
Of Love & Liberté
Chapter 1: a taste of ireland.
Music. It's what drove them. It was the one thing that they could all relate to when they met. Not on any set day in particular, they would all gather together on some family's bateau, and the men would play their guitars while the women sang songs of their heritage. That was the way things were done on the river. That was the way they liked it, and nothing was going to change if they could help it. Of course, everyone this side of Spain knew that. Their culture stretched from the southern borders of Portugal to the northern most tips of Ireland. And that, is where our story begins...
Peter McNally was this young boy's name. He was a pale, scrawny child who lived in his father's small, three room cottage. The cottage sat on Lamb's End, a single-lane dirt road that served as the highway into town. Young McNally was barely six years old, yet he still enjoyed chasing the girls that strolled by his father's cottage every morning. It was his favorite pastime, actually. Peter was a charmer at heart. From the moment his big eyes flipped open with the light of a new day, he was running out to the road, to try and catch Colleen Barnes from down the road, or Missy O'Fallon from even farther. He liked to pop out from behind the wall and scare them, then chase them around until they all started laughing. It was a good game, for Peter and his friend.
Because of course, Peter was never causing trouble alone. He and the shopkeeper's boy from up the High Street had had more than a few chases together over the years. The routine was the same: whoever got down to the main road first would wait for the other, and then they would talk until a girl walked by. Sometimes, on bright days, Missy or Colleen would remember that the two boys would be waiting for them that day, and would take another route instead. For some reason, they didn't seem to appreciate how funny it was when Peter chased them and they squealed when he tried to toss up their skirts. Sadly, he'd never been as successful at this game as the shopkeeper's boy. As for the girls, they seemed to think it was rude, those mad lasses.
The older widows that lived next door had recently taken a liking to calling the shopkeeper's boy and Peter "best friends." It must have been true then, Peter supposed. They did laugh a lot, and there was no one else that Peter liked to play Chaser with more.
So you can see how what happened one morning came as a surprise to young Peter McNally.
He waited there for a long time. For close to two hours, Peter sat on the low, stone wall that divided his father's property from everyone else's. His friend had been late before, but he'd never not come at all. Peter's heart was a little broken.
Not one of them, Peter, Colleen, or Missy, ever saw the shopkeeper's son again. Some rumors said that trolls ate him, others, more realistic ones, said that the boy ran away. None of them knew that the boy's father didn't speak to him. No one but he, knew that his father loved his store more than his own son. None of them knew that the shopkeeper's boy was a lonely child who liked to take walks to the ocean, to see the green hills of Scotland. No one ever knew, until he was gone.
There. I give the shortest chapter on earth. I'd put it as a prologue but the system will just call it a chapter anyway so- what the hell. I'm throwing in a lot of chocolate into this story, to let you all know now. Because... well... chocolate rocks. And the story gets better, I swear! ::crosses heart:: Next chapter coming up soon.