AN: I thought I should get off my lazy butt and write something for all of you this weekend, so I did! Hopefully it doesn't dissappoint.
The prompt was Choices... Fits well, don't you thing? You will...
Disclaimer: Every year, I wish the same thing: that I'm really Stephenie Meyer in disguise. But I'm really not... Owned by the incredibly gifted Mrs. Meyer!
Choices
He felt the corner of his mouth lift up in the mockery of a smile as he gazed down at the object in his grasp. The small container was dwarfed by the size of his hand, making him feel like a giant. He supposed he was, compared to most.
The small wooden box looked unremarkable from the outside. A few simple carvings livened up the dark cherry color of the wood that the chest was made of. Jacob turned it around in his hand, marveling at the smoothness of the material, which felt like silk under his callused fingers. He admired the detail of the clasp. Deceivingly simple, the small gold latch gave away just how ornate the box really was.
Looking out the window at the strangely blue sky, Jacob frowned, worry lines appearing on his forehead. There were so many small things to stress about, and not enough time in the day to get everything taken care of. He sighed, frustrated that he was taking so long to do such a simple thing. Just like the clasp, however, his task was deceivingly simple and not nearly as easy to complete as one might think.
The small box in his hand traditionally belonged to the chief of the Quilettes. Billy had pressed it into his palm that afternoon, with no explanation other than that he should be the one to keep it. Jacob had been confused, to say the least. There was no reason that his father should relinquish his leadership over the tribe, especially not to his teenage son.
Especially not to a monster.
Now he sat on the couch in their small living room. It was silent, for once; Billy had hurriedly wheeled himself out of the house, giving some weak excuse for his sudden departure. Jacob had been too distracted to care. Now he was faced with a decision much more difficult then whether to open the box or not. Yet another deceivingly simple thing, with too many connotations to even begin to consider.
For example, for all he knew, opening the box could mean that he accepted the position of chief, even if he didn't mean it that way. He wasn't too keen on taking that risk. Still, Jacob was nearly dying of curiosity. It wasn't every day you held the fate of the tribe in your overly large hands.
He shook his head roughly, trying to figure out what he should do. There was no harm in looking, was there? No one would be the wiser if he did see what was inside the box. Before he could change his mind, he swiftly slid the hook out of he loop that held the lid shut, and held his breath as the top slowly swung open.
Jacob exhaled, softly chuckling as he saw what was inside the precious chest. All the suspense had definitely been overdone; the box held nothing of value, and certainly nothing life changing.
He dumped the contents into one hand, and set the box aside. Carefully, he touched all of the items, before picking one up at random and holding it to the sunlight streaming through the window beside him.
He laughed again when he saw that the object was a pebble, clearly from First Beach. What kind of significance did that have? He shook his head as he set it back in the box.
Next was a twig, nothing more. Again Jacob wondered at the sanity of the others around him. A twig was important how, exactly?
A tooth followed the rest. Now this was interesting. The tooth was clearly that of a werewolf. How one as large as this had fallen into the possession of the Elders was beyond him.
Last in his hand was a feather, that of a Blue jay. The pure, brilliant blue had not faded with time, and was still incredibly vibrant.
After a moment of pondering, everything suddenly became clear. The chest was full of the responsibilities of a chief, each object representing something different and important.
The pebble stood for community. Just as the small stone was only one of the many that made up the beautiful beach, a chief was only part of the whole. He couldn't lead without the support of his people, who needed to be taken care of as well.
The twig must stand for the land, Jacob mused. The earth and forest around them was important, and needed to be protected, not to mention treated with respect. That was definitely harder than it seemed.
The tooth most likely had a double meaning. Jacob had to admit that it was cleverly disguised. The first meaning was obvious: protect. Protect the people, protect the land, and protect the customs and traditions that bound them together. The second was subtler, and could only be caught by someone who was in the know. Passing down the treaty, and the knowledge of the mythical creatures living among them was perhaps one of the most vital of a chief's duties.
Now, the last object was considerably more difficult to sort out the meaning for. Many possibilities ran through Jacob's head, but only one seemed to stick. Dreams. Hopes and dreams. A chief should never forget such a thing, for people stop being people when they have nothing left to yearn for, to believe in. He wasn't quiet sure why that was what he though, but it made perfect sense in his mind.
He raked a hand back through his hair, then rubbed his eyes harshly. There was no way that he could handle leading an entire tribe, now or in the near future. He wasn't qualified in the least. Panic set in just thinking about the ramifications of such a position and he had to make a conscious effort to calm himself down. Jacob made up his mind: he would turn down Billy's unspoken offer. He wasn't sure whom the box would go to next, but at that moment, it didn't matter.
Just so long as it wasn't him.