DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. Still. My world is a bit darker.

BETA: STILL ME AND MY SILLY SELF, and Word.

Your thoughts and correction would be greatly appreciated, even in a PM, lovely lads and ladies!

Light the Weary Way

Chapter Two

Smile the Rain Down

In Hinkin's good opinion, most friendships started as a budding blossom. Introductions were just like a seed placed in the ground, and the reciprocation was much like placing fertile soil over it. Then, the seed would grow and grow, as the friendship deepened from strangers to acquaintances to finally friends, as the visits became more and longer each time.

Most friendships and friends did not seed and sprout like Lord Daniel and Willow's.

The two little children were quite possibly the weirdest example of two people who couldn't be more different coming together. Lord Daniel being so proper and logical for one so young and Willow being – Willow. Oh, Hinkin knew who he was, just by looking at him: his niece sent him letters by the week from outside of town, and most of them had to do with 'that little imp', along with the foreboding parting words of: 'you will see what I mean, someday'. Hinkin had always known that day would come and it did, fell right from the oak tree and on to the chamomiles, he did.

One would expect the other to be absolutely furious with them, and for good reason. Hinkin, the head gardener, felt he knew for certain who was justified, but he was a bit biased to his little lord and little miss, bless her poor ill self.

Willow did not tumble to the ground, again, by his own doing – although the first had been.

Willow's face also had not punched itself, either.

Lord Daniel's expression was much vindicated and Willow's horribly confused.

"Wh--at?" Willow sputtered, wide-eyed, but he sprung up on his feet, "Why did ya' do that for?"

Lord Daniel breathed in, arms crossed, "Because you ruined my sister's flowers."

Willow looked off to the side, where the pretty white petal and large yellow center flowers had been standing poised, but most were mangled and crushed.

"Oh…" Willow looked teary-eyed, as he looked at what he unintentionally destroyed, "I didn't mean to."

Lord Daniel looked unconvinced, but willing, "Yeah? Well, you did."

Willow suddenly faced Lord Daniel with a glare, "No, I didn't!" His expression fell somberly and he pointed at a growth of small violet flowers, "I would have crashed into those if I could have, I would have."

Lord Daniel looked at where he was pointing, and stated, "Those periwinkles mean 'friendship'." He looked calmer, at any rate, Hinkin thought, and more willing to listen to the redhead. He'd never before seen his young little lord so fired up in his life like he had a few minutes ago.

"Oh," Willow looked stumped, then he pointed, "Well, those then." He pointed at a bundle of herbs, growing in tiers of three green, oblong leaves.

Lord Daniel looked, too, and shrugged, "It's alright, now, then. I don't like basil." Hinkin kept his mouth shut, as basil was a complimentary herb placed in most of his little lord's favoured dishes.

Willow looked relieved, "Oh, good… what's basil?" he asked, squinting, looking a bit impish. Hinkin kept himself quiet about that, too. There was something new in the air, an important event was happening, Hinkin could feel it in his old bones. Hinkin did not want to ruin what was sprouting.

Lord Daniel considered, looking at Willow, "They mean hatred," and added as Willow was opening his mouth, "and they taste gross. I tried one raw from here last month." Hinkin decided then, to put through the servant vine to keep the ingredient a secret from their little lord. No sense in their little lord starving himself.

Willow's face scrunched up. "Ew, I don't like them either, I think."

Lord Daniel looked happy, "Want to be friends?"

Willow beamed, "I sure would!"

Lord Daniel smiled, then, very shyly, and Hinkin gripped his hands tight with wet eyes.

"My name's – "

Willow interrupted, "Oh, I know who ya' are! You're Dan!" Lord Daniel's overjoyed expression became suddenly bland.

He corrected Willow, saying, "-iel."

Willow gaped at Lord Daniel. "Wha-? You're name's Yell? Well, that sure is weird… I thought it was Dan."

"Your name's Willow! And it is Daniel!" Lord Daniel's face became flushed, fists clenched. Hinkin was relieved to see something more than accepting resignation on Lord Daniel's face, and it was all because of the little imp from beyond the forest in the hills.

"My name is not Willow Daniel! It's Willow, and I like being called Wil." Hinkin was not too certain what went on in Willow's head, but it was as normal as a morning glory opening at night.

"Well, I like being called Daniel!"

"I like Dan better." Willow put in, guileless or blind to Lord Daniel's growing vexation. What impudence, Hinkin thought, this entire time he was not respecting Lord Daniel's higher station, but Hinkin stayed himself, yet again.

"That isn't my name, it's Daniel!"

"It is, so! Dan is in Daniel, and Wil is in Willow, see? It is, too, your name!"

Lord Daniel's constrained expression faded, "… That is true." His eyes were bright with an epiphany, Hinkin saw, uneasy. One impish boy who thought like an imp and acted like one was enough.

Willow cut in to Lord Daniel's moment, "I'm hungry."

Lord Daniel connected eyes with Willow, "Yes, so am I. Before we go inside… " He moved past Willow to the garden bed, Hinkin's pride and joy, looking down at it. He began to pick through the flowers, first to the unruined chamomiles, pocketing them gently and then considered the rest of the flora with keen, yet soft eyes.

When Hinkin observed what he picked along the way through the garden, his eyes finally blurred, because the message in them was so beautiful. It was every the hope, wish and secret in his Lord Daniel's heart, in a single hand, given to Willow.

"Here, for you."

Willow stared at the flowers: marigolds, a branch of fir, rosemary, a calendula, many dandelions, a couple of lavender, a plucked leaf stem of a fern, jonquil and hydrangeas, thyme, with periwinkles dotted throughout, and finally, a single blue violet. Hinkin released a happy whoosh of air, when Willow took the bouquet of flowers with a bright smile.

The two boys went inside and Hinkin heard the tail end of their conversation.

"Sorry about your face, Wil. I was just angry."

"Nah, that's alright, Dan. I would punch me, too, half the time if I could." Hinkin thought, again, that the little redhead was an odd one. At least, his Lord Daniel had a friend to call his own, now…

Even if said friend was two seeds shy from five flowers.

I used to be sad, all the time, now I feel so much joy. I never believed this would ever happen. Thank you for wanting to be my friend. I'll protect you, and let you lean on me when you need it. I will always be your friend.

~*~

"Up here," Dan motioned with his arm, up the stairs, and was just about to turn to go up them when Wil, still clasping the flowers, goggled. "… What?"

"Ya' have stairs!" Wil exclaimed, "Big ones, too!" He paused and asked Dan, "Hey, why're we goin' up? Aren't the kitchens down here?"

Dan frowned, not understanding, "We don't dine with the servants in the kitchens, or with the adults at this time. We have our own time: it's called nursery tea time. It's our evening meal before dinner."

Wil looked dubious, "What's in it? And it isn't even dark, yet."

Dan answered immediately, "I've never known anything different. And it has tea, for one. Cake, bread, jam and butter. I can send for cocoa, though."

Wil repeated, eyes nearly popping out, "Cake, jam, butter? … What's cocoa? Is it good? How do ya' eat it?"

"You drink it, and it's brown-coloured." For some reason Wil's expression turned strange, but Dan continued, assuring, "Yes, it's very good. It's sweet and almost creamy. So…?" Daniel gestured to the stairs again.

Wil sounded an agreement and shouted, "Race ya'," along with a hearty, "Gaahahaha!" He ran up the stairs with loud stomps.

Dan stood in a stupor, staring at Wil, who turned around half-way up with a beckoning look, "Well, what're ya' waitin' for? C'mon! We can't race to your room if I get lost goin' nowhere."

Dan swallowed before giving a crooked grin, "… Yeah, race you!"

"Yeah!"

They had turned down two right corridors, when Dan suddenly slammed his boot heels to the ground and abruptly stopped. Wil who had darted past, suddenly curved back towards Dan to stop in front of him.

Wil gave a grin but looked confused, "Why'd ya' stop?"

Dan tried to calm his breathing enough to answer, "My… ah… my sister – my sister… Re- Rebecca," he managed out, wiping at his forehead, and looked at his sleeve in disgust.

Wil's gaze darted down to Dan's front pocket, where the chamomiles were, "Oh! Ya' wanna give her them?" Dan nodded, tiredly. "Well, let's give them to her, then!"

Dan agreed, "Yes, and Mother Chire should be there, too. She wanted to see you." Dan looked stricken, "I cannot believe I forgot. I was so excited."

Wil shrugged, "Well, we're seein' her now, so it's okay. Why do ya' call her Mother Chire?"

Dan clasped Wil's wrist and tugged him towards the left corridor, letting go once done.

"She's Mother Chire, because she is Mother Chire. Just like Head Gardener, is Head Gardener, and Governess is Governess. Father is Lord Baker, but his full title is Sir Magistrate Baker." When Wil still looked confused, Dan put to words how things were to him, "Our servants call Mother Chire, Lady Chire, because that is her title. Titles go before names. Being a mother is a role, like being a lady is. So, she is Mother Chire to me. Governess explained this to me, when I first began to put my words together."

"Why do ya' call your Father, Father, then?" asked Wil, and then divulged, frank, "I think your Governess is weird."

"I don't. I call Father: Lord Baker. But, I say he is my Father in private or with people I feel close to." Dan smiled lightly, "Governess isn't that strange. She is just very proper."

Wil cocked his head and shook his head, "Well, okay, if ya' say so." He said, "Mama is Mama to me, 'cause Mama's, Mama. And Father's, Father."

Dan opened Rebecca's corridor door, and let Wil pass, before he went through too, closing it gingerly.

"Your Mama must have a name." Dan insisted, quietly.

Wil pursed his lips and shrugged, "Well, I guess Father calls her 'darlin''." When Dan explained that was a term of endearment, Wil looked unsure, "… He calls her Sere, I think," he said, before, "but I'm not callin' her Mama Serre. Now, that's just silly."

Dan's chuckles echoed and bounced along the corridor walls, seeping into the wood, making the atmosphere more welcoming than the light from the windows ever had.

~*~

Lord Thornber had been taking a nice high tea with his Lady Thornber, snacking on the meats and fine, aged cheese, while his Lady Thornber ate a trifle for her dessert, and entertaining in nonsensical conversation, when his groomsman burst in.

His tea cup clinked softly on the delicate Etruscan porcelain, as he set it down on the marble tea table. Lord Thornber stood up, calmly, "What is the meaning of this interruption?"

Lady Thornber sipped her brewed tea and was quiet.

The groomsman bowed, "Forgive the interruption, milord, but there is terrible news."

Lord Thornber assessed him, "Something with the stables?"

Lady Thornber murmured, "Stables go with groomsmen, but of course." Lord Thornber gave her a caustic glance and she concentrated on her tea and trifle, quiet.

The groomsman's eyes never rose from the floor, "Yes, it appears, that a horse… got away, milord."

Lord Thornber stared through him, "'Got away'?" He rapped his cane on the wooden floor, sharply. "I paid for servants to speak clearly and coherently. Enough of your dirt talk! … Unless, you want to be without purpose… " Lord Thornber trailed off, eyeing the tense groomsman.

The groomsman spoke quickly, yet carefully, "Lightning, milord, somehow became unrestrained from his stall and ran off into the woodlands around the property."

Lady Thornber suddenly spoke, "I knew that violent horse was wasteful, scared the rest mindless. Truly, you paid too much for such a creature, Lord Thornber. Probably kicked the door apart, I imagine."

Lord Thornber's nostrils enlarged, and he hissed, "That creature was a successful Pegasus and Sacaen-crossbred, and I had high hopes…" Lord Thorner calmed himself, and could see Lady Thornber's lips try to hide a smirk behind her teacup.

"Regardless, let it go. Consider the horse a wasted opportunity and acquire another leisure activity to pursue. A wild creature may feel more at home in a place just as, and you certainly never did much to break him in, Lord Thornber."

"This place has seeped into your head, Lady Thornber." Lord Thornber glared at her, "I believe I ordered you silent."

"You cannot silence or cage what refuses to be, whenever it pleases you… " Lady Thornber put her tea down and looked up at him and finished with a venomous smile, "Lord Thornber."

"Lady Thornber, there are days like this one, that I believe the matchmaker deceived me. Instead of obedience, I gained you." Lord Thornber commanded the servant on the ground to leave.

The groomsman gladly left the room, shutting the tearoom door.

~*~

Yaoss grinned and it was with great restraint on his part that he held in his triumph. "Heyya. Don't know what yer name is, but it don't matter none. Not now." The tall horse, and what a beauty, with his shiny coat of pure white with silver speckles, strongly resembled a Pegasus; however much he matched the common Pegasi, though, his legs were not thin and tapered to weak hooves nor did he have a wings as they did. He did, however, have a golden-spiraled horn growing from his forehead, found in the matured ones.

Yaoss specifically chose him, not because of his obvious good breeding, but because of the strength in his entire build. Yaoss was not a light, short, slim man, but a heavily muscled, bulky, giant of a one. He needed a horse, a strong one that could carry him, with extra weight added too.

Conveniently, Thornber had a lot of horses. This male had stood out more than the others, just with his girth – he looked like a demon horse, and he acted like one too. A perfect match for the home, the horse would get along great with his Sarah. Yaoss chuckled. Wil would adore the horse just because of the horn, most likely, not that he would blame the boy.

Yaoss had enjoyed the thrill, the rush in his blood, as he had manipulated the horse into such a temper that the male beast had kicked the heavy, metal latched stall door right off and into the stall across. Thankfully, it was unoccupied. Yaoss had thrown his handful of carrots and apples on the ground and rushed off back into the forest, before the groomsman, who had gone on an unregulated break, could come investigate and see him. The horse had then followed him after eating his fill.

Apparently, the horse was both gluttonous and vile-tempered. It was either that or Lord Thornber refused him food for misbehavior, and based on Yaoss's creeping, the horse unsettled just about everyone and every horse in the vicinity, so Yaoss would not be surprised.

Lord Thornber would be relieved to know that his mares and studs would finally mate now with the obstruction gone.

He patted the horse, "S'ppose I should name ya'. Hm…" He stared into the horse's eyes, and saw such a charge of energy, that he rubbed the stud fiercely on the neck, "Perun! The god who shot lightning bolts at his annoying arch-nemesis, Veles, chased him into the woods, too, so the story goes." Yaoss chuckled.

Perun tossed his sleek gold mane and stomped his front feet.

"Like the name? Well, good. Wil's gonna love you. And Sarah will, too… after she gets used to ya'." Yaoss rubbed his hands together, excitedly, "Now, let's get on you, yeh?"

He reached for Perun, only for him to canter away, nickering. Trying the slow and cautious way did not work, either – Perun merely gave an unimpressed look to Yaoss and trotted around him.

Yaoss sighed, "Damn me, if horse-nabbing wasn't one of my skills." He began stalking Perun with a resolved grin, "Must've gotten rusty! Gwaha!"

Perun's eyes narrowed.

~*~

Back at home, meal still cooking on the fire, Sarah received a visitor.

"Yes?" she called, turning her head to the right and recognized the man outside the open door, "Oh! Welton! Hello, there." Sarah eyed her pot, and decided it was well enough to leave unattended, for now, until she had to put the carrots and celery stalk in. She stood up and moved to the front entrance.

"Yes, what is the matter?"

Welton puffed his pipe and gave her his usual grin, "It's about your man, there."

Sarah grew concerned, "He's getting Wil – why, what's happened?"

Welton shook his palms out in front of him, "No, don't worry. Just wanted to say he's been chasin' a horse out near the property, bellowin' at it. I just wanted to let you know."

Sarah's gaze unfocussed for a brief moment, and she recalled how Yaoss had phrased his words, and like a slingshot, she comprehended, "Oh, that man! He said he was done with that!" She would have gotten her cloak and stomped off to confront her bonded, but Welton's voice stopped her.

"Your stew, Sarah?"

Sarah nodded, distractedly, "Yes, thank you Welton."

"Alright, I'm off, then." Welton puffed out another plume of smoke, before leaving, he waved.

She returned it and stomped back to the fire pit. She threw an impatient look at it. She could not just leave it, or risk coming back to the smoking ruins of her home.

"Just one more hour," she muttered, intently, "then I'll go get that man – if he hasn't been hoof-footed by then."

~*~

"You have to be really quiet." Dan warned Wil outside Rebecca's room, "She doesn't sleep so well, because of the pain, and only takes little naps. Mother Chire's the same, because she doesn't let Rebecca's nurses touch her."

Wil blinked hard, "Why not?"

Dan slowly shook his head, "I don't know, but I'm sure your Mama wouldn't want anyone touching you, if you were ill, right?"

"Nah," Wil agreed, "She'd probably beat them back with her broom." Dan and Wil shared quiet grins, before Dan raised a finger to his lips as a reminder, and pulling the door handle down.

Wil tip-toed in behind Dan's softer walk, and both boys grew more solemn immediately once the door was shut. Wil's ears caught the hoarse, rattling wheeze of Rebecca's breathing, before he saw her. Dan's eyes were already trained on the small form on the bed, and Wil swallowed, feeling his heart twist, when he looked to the bed, too.

Rebecca was two, Wil remembered from his Mama's stories, but she didn't look like her age. Her small form was nearly swallowed by the blankets covering her up to her tiny chin. Her face looked bone white and thin like a flower's petals. As Wil crept toward the bedside, air gone, he could see all the blue veins in her face, so stark they looked to have been painted fresh – and he sniffled and his throat closed up, wanting to leave the room but he didn't want to abandon Dan, whose eyes glistened like that old man's from the garden.

"She looks barely a baby." Wil said.

Dan's breathing suddenly hitched, when Rebecca's eyes fluttered open.

Something was wrong with them, Wil thought. They were green, but so pale; they looked like clouds had covered them. The whites of her eyes were not all white either, but filled with pale reds and pinks.

Rebecca's eyes screwed up and tears fell and she produced a sound that wasn't one, like a small kitten trying to keen but failing; lips so chapped they were as burrs, and Wil panicked.

"She's hurtin'!"

Dan was already by her side. He reached beneath the covers, and Wil saw him lift out a skinny as a bird wing's arm. Dan clasped her hand in between both of his, barely touching, it looked to Wil's eyes, and kissed the top of his hand.

"She's been hurting for a long time." Dan said, not looking away from Rebecca, who had stopped crying and drifted off.

"She knows your voice," Wil whispered, distraught and red-faced that he had been so loud. It was the first time Wil felt shame for being the way he was.

Dan nodded, "Yeah, she would – I come here every day to give her, her chamomiles." Dan's eyes drifted out of focus, "Sometimes I talk to her, too, about anything. Most times, I just sit here, holding her hand." Dan turned his head to Wil and smiled, "Becky, she keeps secrets good, and she never scoffs or tells me to go away… She's a real good listener - the best." Dan ducked his head closer to Rebecca's hastily, but Wil saw his wet eyelashes fluttering like a hummingbird's wings.

Wil looked down at his left hand, the flowers Dan gave him still being held, and asked, quietly, "Could I give her some of mine?"

Dan shook his head, kissing the top of his hand again.

"Those are your flowers, Wil. They are special because they are for you only, working their magic. I pick chamomile because I know what they mean to me, and I want them to mean the same for Rebecca. I want her to get better," Dan choked out, breathing hard. "So, she can open her eyes and smile," Dan strained out, and Wil began crying, lips pressed tight, "and laugh and talk without pain… and run around like all the other kids I see outside the windows. I can pick her up without breaking her, and she'll be happy and perfect." Dan released his top hand from Rebecca's, to scrub at his eyes.

"So I give her chamomile to her every day, because medicine comes from plants, and they're going to make her well, again… I just have to keep putting them out by her table to give her strength, so that St. Elimine will know that Becky knows she's wanted and to keep her here, and to see that she's trying really, really hard every day. And you don't take away the fighters who haven't stopped."

Wil nodded furiously and just reached to blow his nose on his sleeve, when Dan gasped.

Wil, startled, looked down at Rebecca. His breath caught and his lips parted, speechless.

Rebecca's bird-boned hand was squeezing Dan's as tightly as she could, but that was not what caused Dan to gasp. Wil looked at Rebecca's face, and saw that her eyes were not as cloudy, but they were just as teary.

She stared directly at Dan, smiling.

Dan trembled violently, and began to cry.

A.N.: BAH. I had to leave it off here, because I thought it was a good time to, and I'm bawling, cause I'm a SAP. REALLY, WHO CRIES AT THEIR OWN WRITING? Next chapter will be out tomorrow, and longer.

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