A/N: Thank you so much for the kind reviews and encouraging words.
Chapter 8: The Invaders
The early bird gets the worm. That's usually the way it goes. The first morning after Liam and Killian came to live at the castle, however, there turned out to be a surplus of early birds and no worms in sight.
John, the baker's assistant, was accustomed to rising well before dawn in order to get the immense bread ovens primed and ready for the day. He required no stimulus to awaken him, being able to fully rely on his own internal clock and the fear of his master's fist if he were to sleep in. He yawned and stretched, feeling the cool air of a dew fresh morning creep under his bed covers. Pushing himself to a sitting position and scratching his scalp, he blearily cast an eye about his tiny room.
Automatically he reached behind him for the apron he knew he had placed on the small stool by his cot. He nearly shot through the roof when his hand landed, not on the well worn cotton, but on a live chicken.
A very out of place and, not at all welcome, chicken.
He withdrew his hand and jumped up from his bed. The chicken looked as though it had made itself quite comfortable on the stool until John's questing hand had upset its quiet dozing. The chicken squawked in outrage and skittered across the room and out the window, leaving a shocked and open mouthed John in its wake.
John's unexpected visitor was not the only errant chicken that morning. They seemed to have popped up all over the castle and the surrounding garden and forecourt, as well as the marketplace. Graham awoke to find one staring at him from the window ledge. The saddler found two squabbling on his workbench. There were four settled by the blacksmith's hearth. Several chickens were scratching about under the tables in the tavern. There was quite the feathered gathering in the castle laundry and the Head Laundress was most unimpressed with the droppings that adorned a goodly number of the freshly laundered sheets that had been dried and folded the night before.
The castle itself appeared to be overrun with chickens. The maids, guards and footmen chased rogue birds up hallways and staircases with brooms and sacks; finding that there'd be at least one more to be caught every time they thought they'd got them all. Who knew chickens could be so cagey?
Snow and David, by virtue of their rooms being situated very high up, had been spared any feathered encounters whilst in their bed. The maid and the valet had been instructed by Mrs. Hodge, the Head Housekeeper to say nothing about the chicken invasion in the hope that she could restore order without disturbing the King and Queen. Snow did notice that, Jenny, who had been her maid for several years, seemed to be very on edge. When a stiff breeze blew in from the open window and caused the shutters to creak, Jenny jumped like a startled cat and her gaze darted all about the room as if she expected a mouse to come running out from under the bed.
"Just the wind, Jenny, no need to be upset," Snow said, reassuringly, as she pointed to the wardrobe." The green cloak, I think. I plan on taking the boys to the tailors today." She smiled brightly at the thought of being able to provide Liam and Killian with new clothes made just for them. The first of many luxuries she planned on giving them.
Jenny laid the requested cloak on the bed and gathered anything that was to go to the castle laundry. The valet picked up the King's riding boots, clucking his tongue at the state of them, and the two servants left.
"Don't overwhelm them, Snow," David said, tempering his warning with a kiss to his wife's temple. He hadn't commented on it at the time, but for most of the night he knew his wife had been awake plotting and planning the future for the Jones boys.
"I know, it's just, they saved Emma. You can't fault me for wanting to reward them," Snow said.
"I think what you meant to say was, spoil them rotten," David said, earning him a rueful smile from his wife. "I understand how you feel, I do, but they're just young boys and for all their fine manners, they've never been to a castle before and now . . .," David didn't get to finish voicing his thoughts as Snow waved a hand at him and cut in.
"Yes, I know, two days ago they were working in a mine, ten days before that, they were in a shipwreck. They haven't had anyone but each other to rely on," Snow said. "Well, that stops, now. They're heroes, David, but they're still only babies. They need love and care and good food, and I'm going to make sure neither one wants for anything ever again," she declared, passionately.
David smirked at his wife's choice of words. "I promise you, Queen or not, Liam won't thank you for calling him a baby. He's ten! And Killian might be young, but he's been through so much, he's already old for his years. He's no baby, either."
Snow smiled back sheepishly. "You know what I meant."
David nodded. He did indeed know. He was well aware that no matter what he said, Snow was going to go all out in coddling the boys.
"Besides, don't even think of denying how excited you are to have two boys to mentor and follow you around, " Snow said quietly, and poked her husband in the ribs.
David heard the unspoken regret that they didn't have a son, as Snow had her heart set on at least one child of each gender. They both loved and adored Emma with everything they had in their souls, but Snow had always wanted a large family. She wanted Emma to have brothers and sisters to play with that Snow never had. Emma took after her father in nearly every way. Snow couldn't help that she often pictured a little boy with her dark hair and David's blue eyes. Liam and Killian might not be her flesh and blood, but her tender heart had already taken them in, and not just out of gratitude for saving her daughter's life.
"Liam will have to follow me around, since he's to be my squire, but Killian?" David shook his head.
"He'll follow, Emma," Snow said, wearing a bright smile. "You see it, too, don't you? They're just so adorable together. Is four too young to find your True Love, do you think?"
David frowned and chewed on the inside of his cheek. He was clearly not happy contemplating such a possibility. He determined the best course of action was to ignore the idea entirely. Snow observed her husband's red faced, tight lipped visage and threw her arms around him.
"David, you can't be jealous of a six year old!" Snow exclaimed. "Emma loves you. She will always be your little Duckling and now, she'll have a playmate near her own age. One who has already proved how responsible he is." She refrained from further voicing any more of her romantically inclined notions for Emma's and Killian's future. "Now, how about we go get our daughter, her admirer and your new squire for breakfast. I'm starving!"
David captured the hand that Snow held out to him as she paused in the doorway. Her years living by her wits in the forest had sharpened her senses and at that particular moment, Snow felt something was not right in her home. Whatever it was didn't present as anything too obvious; it was more of a general sense that something was off.
"Does it seem . . . overly quiet to you?" David asked her.
"Yes, no-one is here. No dusting, no sweeping, no polishing, nobody but us! That isn't normal," Snow observed.
"We are a little early today. Perhaps Mrs. Hodge is trying out a new schedule for the household chores," David offered.
"She never mentioned it at our last meeting and I know she would, if she were thinking of changing things," Snow said. Her stomach chose that moment to growl. "I need food. We can interrogate Wills after breakfast.," she suggested, knowing the Head Man would more than likely have the full story.
Completely oblivious to the chaos breaking out in the lower floors of the castle and the surrounding grounds, they collected Emma from her room. David gave her a piggy back to the room that had been allotted to the Jones boys. Until the maids got in there to tidy up, Emma's room looked like a rampaging hoard of ogres had been through it. By contrast, Liam's and Killian's chambers were absolutely spotless. Even the bedcovers had been carefully smoothed out so as to show not a wrinkle. If she hadn't checked on them in the night. It would be easy to believe the beds hadn't been slept in at all. Snow didn't know whether to laugh or cry as they found the boys sitting with ramrod posture on the benches at the ends of their beds. They looked like they were afraid to move.
Emma suffered no such restraint.
"Killian! Liam!" The little Princess shouted as she clambered down from her father's back and ran into the boys' room. She grabbed hold of Killian's hand and started to drag him towards the door. "Breakfast! C'mon, you're eating with us."
"Really?" Killian asked.
Emma gave him a blindingly brilliant smile and nodded. "You sit next to me."
"Just give in and go, Killian. It's usually the best way," Snow advised, but she couldn't help herself and leaned in to give him a quick hug. "I'm so glad you and Liam are here. We all are."
David echoed the sentiment by giving Liam's shoulder a companionable squeeze. "I know this is all strange for you, right now, but you'll soon settle in."
Liam swallowed down his nervousness and held his head a little higher.
Emma tugged on Killian's arm again when her mother let him go. "Let's go," she said, impatient to be off.
Killian turned to look at Liam who looked faintly disapproving that his brother was being overly familiar with the Princess, but it wasn't as if Emma was really giving him any leeway. He followed meekly along as she dragged him down the hall and out of sight.
"Shall we?" David asked, and offered his arm to his wife to lead her to the family dining hall.
Liam felt as though he were getting even more off balance. He was still way out of his depth with these very friendly monarchs. This was not how he pictured royalty behaving, at all. He certainly didn't understand why they allowed the Princess such latitude in her dealings with his little brother. Surely they would think the growing friendship inappropriate and at some point in the near future they would have to step in.
"I hope you slept well. Beds were comfortable? Pillows soft enough? Do you need more blankets?" Snow asked, as they made their way down the stairs, but her enthusiasm not quite allowing the young man the chance to respond. "The days are still warm but the nights are beginning to get quite cool. You will say, won't you? If you need more blankets."
The King and Queen were just about to step out of the stairwell when they were brought up short by a squawking chicken crossing in front of them at a run. It was followed by one of the Lower Footman who was chasing it with a broom.
"Is that normal? The chicken, I mean," Liam asked. "Don't they make a mess if you keep them inside?"
David and Snow gaped and did a dual double-take as the chicken ran back the other way still pursued by the Lower Footman, then two more chickens flapped into view leading a Middle Guardsmen a merry dance. When the way seemed clear, the King and Queen stepped cautiously into the hallway. Away from the sound insulating walls of the stairwell, their ears were assaulted by the unmistakeable sound of many excited chickens and the shouts of the castle servants who were clearly trying to round them up.
"Gods, we've been invaded!" Snow said. "How? Why? What?"
David was just as perplexed as his wife. His eyes followed the erratic path of several feathers as they caught the light and fluttered to the floor. "On the bright side, at least they're not armed and dangerous," he said.
"Your Highness, be careful!" Liam called out and made a grab at the King's arm to keep him from stepping forward. David swivelled his head around to look askance at the young boy. Liam pointed to the floor and the very large chicken dropping David would have stepped in.
"Not armed in the usual sense, no," Liam said, forgetting his usual reserve as he shared a smile with the King.
Wills, the Head Man, appeared at the end of the corridor. He looked very worried. He saw the King and Queen and started running towards them. He had only covered half the distance when two guards came into view, having come from the same direction as Wills. The guards were attempting to hold back a tall, beast of a man, who looked absolutely furious. The man was too much determined and had too much muscle for the guards, and he virtually dragged them with him as he strode up towards the King and Queen.
David immediately stepped protectively in front of Liam and Snow. To his credit, once Wills had reached the royals, he turned around and placed himself between the oncoming man and the king, but the brutish man knocked Wills aside easily.
"Your Highness, I've been robbed. My chickens! They have . . . ," the angry man paused when his gaze fell on Liam who had peeked out from behind David. "YOU! Where's the other one? He's the one I want. That young thieving . . . "
"ENOUGH!" David shouted at the man who seemed to suddenly realise he was facing a king. The man didn't calm down in any way, but he did hold his tongue. "Now, Wills? What is going on?"
"Chickens, Your Highness. They're everywhere. It seems that they belong to Mr. Miggens and . . . ," Wills didn't get any more out, before Miggens couldn't restrain his outrage any further.
"He let them out! The other one. The one that was with him, yesterday. Probably his brother, they have the same look to 'em." Miggens took a step towards Liam, but David put a hand on the man's chest and pushed him back at the same time as Snow spoke up.
"Don't you touch him! This boy is under our protection," Snow said. She looked tiny as she approached Miggens and gave him her most queenly expression. She refrained from mentioning Killian.
"I bet he knows where the other one is, and he's the one that's got to pay up for what he done. Where is he, lad?" Miggens narrowed his eyes at Liam, who glared back, willing to take the man on in defence of his little brother.
"I said, that's enough!" David said. "Wills, show Mr. Miggens into the receiving room," and he held up his hand to forestall the words on the tip of Miggens' tongue. "Fetch me Mrs. Hodge, I've no doubt she has the task of rounding up the chickens well under way. Miggens, we will make sure as many of your birds are returned to you as possible. But you will remember to whom it is you speak and show proper respect to the Queen."
"Yes, Your Highness," Miggens didn't look particularly respectful but he did bow quickly before Wills led him away followed by the guards.
"Liam? Do you know anything about these chickens?" Snow asked. She gently placed her hands over his which he abruptly realised he had clenched into fists.
Liam shook his head. "No, Your Highness, and Killian would never . . . ," but he didn't finish the sentence and he looked away from the Queen's intent gaze with his shoulders slumped. "I think I should talk to my brother," He said, and his tone clearly indicated that he wasn't entirely convinced that Killian was innocent.