My Little Fighter: Chapter Seven: The Festival Begins

Warning: some violence.

"Bryn! Bryn! Wake up!" A voice came from above him. It was a woman's voice, a voice he'd know anywhere. His mother. He recognized the urgent tone in it.

Bryn's eyes were open immediately. "Momma?" came his groggy reply.

"Bryn, my darling. Wake up sweetheart. Come on," She cooed to her young son.

Bryn rubbed his eyes and opened his arms, wanting to be picked up. "What's wrong?" He asked tiredly as his mother picked him up and held him close.

"Your father's back," She whispered as she looked around quickly for a place to hide him. "Oh, where have not hid you?" She asked aloud.

"My closet momma," He said, looking at his mother's bruised face.

"Right. To the closet with you then," She said trying to make him smile. Though it did nothing. She opened the closet door and set him down. She got on her knees and cupped his face in her hands. "Bryn," She whispered stroking his hair. "My good son. Get as far back as you can and cover yourself with clothes. Don't come out until I come and get you. Okay?" Bryn nodded and blinked, causing the tears that pooled in his eyes to fall. "Don't cry sweetheart. Once you've hid close your eyes and cover your ears, alright?" Bryn nodded again.

"Mirauria!" Came the familiar bellow.

"Be brave. I love you," Mirauria kissed her son's head and pushed him into the closet and closed the doors.

Bryn did as his mother said and piled clothes on top of himself and covered his ears. He couldn't help but cry, but he did so quietly. The yells were muffled, but the knowledge that his mother was left to face his father's drunken wrath and his elder brother cheering on his father was too much. He let out a small sob, but that was all it took for his brother to find him.

He heard the closet door open and the footsteps come inside. He tried to be quiet, he tried with all he had, but his hiccoughs gave him away. He felt his brother's hand grasp a handful of his hair and pull him out of the closet.

He knew better than to fight back the kicking, punching and insults were enough. He knew it was best to curl into a ball and take it. He opened his eyes when the punching ceased and looked up at his brother. Lubryn stood there snickering and gave a final kick to his brother's face.

Bryn woke with a start and fell off the mattress. His breathing was quick and he sat on the floor breathing, trying to get as much air as possible. Nightmares still plagued him after his mother's death.

He rested his head on his knees and held his head trying to forget the dream, but every detail came back. Bryn couldn't help but shudder.

He ran his hand through his hair and stood up. He walked toward the door, not entirely ready for a day of avoiding his father and his gang and at least trying to act like he was doing his job.

"Maethoriel! You get up this instant!" Arwen said, exasperated by her daughter's stubbornness. Mae groaned and buried deeper into the blankets. "Maethoriel!"

"No! I'm tired!" She argued.

"Maybe you should've gone to bed when you were told," Arwen countered, pulling the blanket away from her daughter.

"Go 'way!" She said waving her hand.

"I give up! You wake her," Arwen said throwing her daughter's blanket to her husband.

"What's this about not wanting to wake up?" Aragorn asked sitting on his daughter's bed.

"I'm tired," She replied.

Aragorn chuckled and pulled Mae up, into a sitting position. "And why are you tired?" he asked.

"I was up all night with a cough. I think I may be getting another attack," she said.

Aragorn looked at her and spotted the lie in her eyes. He felt her forehead. "You don't feel warm to me. But if you think you're going to have another attack I'll have to tell Falathiel that she cannot attend the festival today. But I'm sure she'll be happy to keep you company," Aragorn replied.

Mae's eyes went wide. "No! No! That's okay. I think I'll be fine," she said quickly.

"Come, why are you so tired?" He asked. Mae shrugged and fiddled with the sheet on her bed. "Couldn't sleep?" Mae nodded. "Why couldn't you?"

"I don't know. Thinking," She replied.

"About what?" her father pressed.

"Nothing. It's not important. I'm up," she said. "I'm going to get ready now."

Nodding, Aragorn got up and left his youngest alone. What has gotten into her? He asked himself.

As the day passed Bryn hardly saw Mae. Much to his happiness. If he couldn't see her, then there was no reason to deceive her. The day had been uneventful. Bryn stuck to alleys and roamed in big crowds, doing everything in his power to avoid the king and his family, and his own family.

As the day was coming to a close he found himself wandering the streets again. In the middle of the road ahead of him he saw a group of people, all gathered around something. Curious, Bryn started for it and joined the group.

He saw what they had all gathered around to see: two men were in the center, one juggling, the other doing tricks with fire. Interested, Bryn stayed to watch.

Across the crowd, Bryn's stomach flipped as he saw Mae standing with her brother and what seemed to be an escort for them. She was safe for now and seemed very delighted by the entertainment. But what he saw next to Mae made him feel ill. Teran stood next to her watching. No Mae! You need to get out of here! He thought to himself.

As the act ended the male escort ushered the two back up to towards the palace. Bryn felt relief rush through his body. He turned to hurry away from Teran as the crowd dispersed.

Looking over his shoulder for Teran, he ran into someone. Someone much taller than him and with a lot of weight. Wincing, Bryn turned to look up at who he had run into. He saw Seran, Teran's brother. He had a scowl on his face and grabbed Bryn by his arm. Teran came up suddenly, making Bryn jump and took his other arm. Bryn was quiet and didn't struggle as they hauled him down an alley that had already been covered in darkness by the failing light.

They both shoved Bryn onto the cobblestones in the alley and watched him as he struggled to his feet. "I-I'm-" Bryn began, but was caught off as a fist landed in his eye. He staggered back and held his hand over his eye. "Please, don't!" He said as he tripped over a broken cobblestone.

"Bryn, has begging ever stopped us?" Seran asked, lifting him up by his shirt collar.

"No, but-" he tried to answer.

"You failed another day. Your father is pissed," Seran said dropping him to the ground again.

"I already told you! I don't want to do this!" Bryn said.

"We don't care! If you were to be let go, you had to pay the price of your freedom," Teran said.

Bryn sighed, knowing no matter what he said; it wouldn't change the outcome of the encounter.

Mae sighed as she crawled into her bed. The day had been long and hot, making her tired. She had not had much excitement, as everyone was just beginning to set up their shops for the festival. But of course the only thing fun she had to look forward to was the ball at the end of the week.

She'd have to sit by her father's and mother's side like her sibling to watch the contests that were to take place throughout the week. How unexciting.

I've not see Brynn once today. I thought he'd be out looking around. She thought. Though he is very odd. I wonder if he's in any sort of trouble.

She shoved the thought away. If she hadn't seen him today she'd surely see him tomorrow at the contest. She looked out the window at the darkened sky. The stars were speckles of light high above the city. It was a lovely view.

Sighing she turned away from the window and blew out her candle. She settled into bed wanting to get to sleep so the next day would come faster.

Bryn woke up in the alley that Seran and Teran had left him in. His neck and shoulders ached from lying all night in the alley. His rubs ached with fresh bruises and his muscles were stiff. He slowly got to his feet and looked out at the sun drenched street.

People were gathering in the street. He staggered out into the street, groggy and aching. He found an elderly man close to him who was keeping towards the back of the crowd. "Where is everyone going?" he asked.

"Out to the plains to see the dagger throwing," the old man replied in a decrepit voice. "Come lad. It should be a good show. My grandson is entered."

Bryn nodded and followed the crowd with the elderly man next to him. Bryn hardly listened to the old man's ramblings as he continually scanned the crowd for any of his father's men. He thought he saw one or two of them, but it was either a man that looked similar or his tired eyes were playing tricks.

The walk down was long and grueling for Bryn. His muscles protested every step and the hot sun beating down on him made him dizzy and nauseous.

Out on the green field the crowd dispersed to the seating behind the throwers. Bryn avoided them at all costs and found himself sitting alone towards the path back into the city.

Mae sat between her two sisters scanning the crowd. The announcer gave the call for the dagger throwing to begin. The contestants stepped up to the line. As Mae tried to see through the crowd she leaned against her sister, unconsciously.

"Mae!" Miriel hissed, elbowing her sister. "Pay attention and watch the contest.

"I'm looking for someone," Mae argued leaning towards her left, against Falathiel.

"Mae, stop," Falathiel said pushing her back into her seat.

"Maethoriel, stop this instant. Sit still and watch the contest," her mother said in her ear.

"Sorry naneth," Mae said, turning her attention back to the contest.

"And you two need to be quiet," Arwen whispered to her other two daughters.

"Yes, naneth," the two said.

Mae felt the corners of her mouth lift up into a smile. Her sisters sighed and crossed their arms, angered. The first dagger was thrown at the target and a cheer erupted from the crowd. Mae had lost interest already.

Mae sat still throughout the contest, but continually scanned the crowd. She found who she was looking for towards the back, near the path to go back to the city. She smiled to herself and watched him, to make sure she could sneak away to where he was and steal a word with him.

"There you are," came the familiar voice of Bryn's father. Bryn grimaced and got to his feet and turned to face him. Glullyn and Curraent stood beside his father. "Again, you're lazing around, not doing your job."

"I already told you. I can't do this! It's wrong!" Bryn argued, knowing it was the wrong thing to do.

Bryn cried out as there was a jab of pain in his back. "And you've been told that it's what you need to do to earn your freedom," Owullyn replied.

"When you let me go you promised I wouldn't have to do anything else for you," Bryn replied, feeling stupid for saying anything.

"Yes, well I lied. I'm a liar. That's what I do. Lie, lie, lie," his father said, happily. Glullyn and Curraent chuckled. Bryn's heart sank. He knew this wouldn't be the end. It'd never be the end. "You've just wasted another chance. You've got five days remaining Bryn. You better start doing your job, boy."

Bryn stared at the ground, not looking at his father. "Your father is talking to you!" Glullyn said, digging his hand into Bryn's hair and forcing him to look up at his father. Bryn angrily looked up at his father.

"You've always been the bad son," he remarked. "You've never done what you were told. You listened to your mother." Here, Owullyn smirked. "You've always been your mother's little boy. And for that you've always been treated like her. Your mother was a kurv."

"Don't talk about her that way!" Bryn said through clenched teeth. "She wasn't! She was never like that!"

"That's what you think," Owullyn laughed. "Give him his punishment and let's be on our way."

Bryn shuddered to think what it was going to be. He was led back around to the city, to the small entrance way that they had made there way in through. A small hole in the outer wall, that had fallen apart with age, and had failed to be noticed thus far. It was just big enough that they could squeeze through.

Bryn found himself thrust against one of the immense boulders that lay at the base against the mountain. "If you want that shirt to stay in tact, you better remove it," warned Curraent.

Bryn closed his eyes and removed his only shirt. Bryn wrapped his bare arms around the boulder and prepared for the first blow of the old punishment. There was the familiar crack! and the familiar searing pain that followed. Bryn gritted his teeth, waiting for the next crack.

Each time the whip struck Bryn yelped, but held onto wakefulness as long as he could. The pain was blinding, and the trickle of warm blood down his back made him feel weak. I know this. I know this pain. I can remain in consciousness. I can. He thought to himself. With each crack the pain became to much and Bryn couldn't help but succumb to it.

Wakefulness died away and his world fell black.

Such a long wait. But I had a bad case of writer's block and no motivation. But I overcame the writer's block enough to write this. I hope the next update won't take two months, since this time I actually wrote my ideas down. I hope you enjoyed it Review please. It feeds my muse.

P.S. Kurv is the Black Speech for whore. I didn't really know what language to use, but it's used for orcs, trolls and men. It's according to a n g e l f i r e. c o m.

Peace!