Originally going to be part of the next chapter but once again, I decided to split it in two.
I'm loving university but, it's a lot of work. Let's just say that I'm grateful to have no classes on Thursdays. Means I have a bit more time to write. ON tumblr, I came up with a tag for my writing. The tag is: evil genius is at it again. It's kinda fitting, no?
There's two William's in this chapter. You can decipher who's who because one will have the prefix of "Little" and the other nothing.
There's mention of something named Beowulf. All you really need to know for this chapter is that it is an Old English epic poem.
Reminder: Poll's still open
WARNINGS: child abuse
Chapter #39: Haunted
Third Person POV
Tomorrow was the day. The day that Princess Merida of DunBroch would wed to Lord William MacInroy, a union that would be remembered through the centuries. A union between the most powerful clans in the kingdom, a union that would prove dangerous to DunBroch's enemies.
The castle was going mad with preparations. Decorations were being hung up, cutlery was washed, wine and ale were collected in the cellar, and the feast was being prepared in the kitchen in the evening. The cooks would cook through the night to bring forth a feast like no noble or royal had seen before. Maids galore rampaged through the halls, wiping and sweeping away the most minor speck of dust. Everything had to be perfect for the momentous occasion.
Late at night, William sat quietly in his room, reading a religious text in Latin, his foot resting on the edge of the chair. He preferred to read stories with adventure and fighting but that night he felt the need to read something more peaceful.
It was close to midnight when he finished reading. Closing the book with a sigh, he rubbed his tired eyes and decided to go to bed; after all, his dream would come true in the morning.
Already dressed in his sleeping gown, William instantly slid into bed and soon feel asleep but not before quickly pondering a strange occurrence that morning.
Artair told him that the princess was brought back by some woman, claiming she found the princess in the middle of the night passed out and dressed only in a night gown. Knowing it was bad luck to see the bride before the wedding, William could not validate whether or not it was completely true thought Artair had ensured him it was.
Deciding to not worry about it, William turned to his side and quickly fell into a deep sleep. When he opened his eyes again, he stood in a world covered entirely in black. He looked around him but all there was to see were the stars and galaxies that twinkled below him. Besides that, he saw nothing, her heard nothing. He began to walk, not sure if he was going forwards or backwards, to his left or to his right.
Indecipherable time passed when someone called his name in the distance.
"William!" The Lord let out a gasp at the sudden sound, denied fear in his stomach when he recognized who the voice belonged to, someone he didn't want to remember.
"William!" The voice called again. The source sounded as though it were behind William. When he turned, he was blinded by the orb of shimmering white light that floated before him. After adjusting to the light, he carefully walked to it, his hand shaking as he reached out to touch the light.
"William!" The voice said, becoming louder as he came closer to the orb. The instant he touched the light, it dissolved around him, transporting him to a large and richly decorated room. William recognized it immediately. It was his room when he was just a child. He turned to walk to the door but froze when he saw someone.
In a chair rested in front of the fireplace sat a boy. William couldn't see his face because the boy's back was turned to him. William paced to the chair and looked down at the boy. Black hair and wearing a small tartan with a black shirt. The child's eyes were glued to the book on his lap, a small smile playing on his face as he absorbed each word.
William recognized the boy: it was himself, when he was 8 years old. He was seeing a memory.
"William!" It was the voice again but this time it sounded strict, demanding, not the sweet and charming William had heard earlier. William knew what would happen next: his father would enter the room. When the voice had called, little William's eyes shot wide. Moving quickly, he hid the book he had been reading under the rug in front of him and picked up a book from the table beside him, opening to some random page. Only just had he opened the book when the door swung open and Robert MacInroy entered the room.
William took a step away from his little self, gazing at his father with fear in his eyes. The figure he saw before him was a different figure than he remembered. This man was clean-shaven, his hair neatly combed, well dressed and not oozing the stench of beer. His little self closed the book and stood up from the chair, smiling brightly at the man.
Robert smiled at his son and looked down at the book he still held in his hand
"What do you have there?" He asked with a happy undertone. Little William walked to his father and handed him the book. Robert took the heavy book, smiling brightly when he read the title.
"History of the MacInroys." He muttered. He looked down to the boy and ruffled his hair with a light chuckle, "Good choice." He praised, his eyes catching the stack of books on the table. "And what else have you got her-" Robert stopped in his path to the table when he felt a change of level on the floor. Looking down, he saw he was standing on a bump in the rug.
Little William's eyes widened in fear as his father picked up the hidden book and read the title. Agonizingly slow, Robert's glare turned to the boy.
William could still remember the expression his father had on his face when he found the book. One of disgust and, worst of all, disappointment.
"What is this?" Robert inquired, holding the book up so that little William could clearly see. The boy gulped nervously, wringing his hands and looking to the floor.
"A book." The child replied, a shake in his voice.
"And what is the title of this book?" Robert demanded, holding the book closer to the child.
"Beowulf." The boy muttered, holding his head down in shame.
William looked away, unable to watch what would happen next. He remembered this so well. Secretly reading a book that his father didn't approve of. He had done it so often when he was younger but this moment had changed that.
William cringed when he heard the boy cry out in pain and his father beginning to yell at his little self. He tried to drown out the painful words but his memory was strong. His father was yelling at him for reading impure words, things that he claimed would "destroy him".
"Galoot!" Robert screamed before stomping out of the room and slamming the door shut. It fell silent in the room, the only sound coming from the fireplace as it cracked. A sniff resounded.
William turned around and saw his little self sitting on the floor and crying, holding his hand to the spot on his head where his father had hit him with the book. A loud crack came from the fireplace, turning both their attention to the book that was now smoldering in the fire. The child let out another sniff.
William took a step towards him, reaching out his hand to lay it on the child's shoulder, when the room dissolved around him and formed into another one: the drawing room. It was nighttime but it was warm and bright in the room. Three people sat in various places. Christine by the window, working on a small embroidery project; Graham with his lute by the table, practice and writing down notes on a piece of parchment; and Little William by the fireplace, once again, reading. All of them were dressed in black. William knew instantly why they were dressed so somberly: this memory was a few days after the death of his mother and his youngest brother.
"Enough." William mumbled to himself, trying to will himself to wake up. He didn't want to watch what would unfold in only seconds. He couldn't watch; the pain was too much.
The door slammed open, the figure of Robert appearing in the room, hair disheveled and carrying a bottle of beer in his hand
"William!" He slurred loudly, stumbling towards the boy sitting by the light. Little William stood up, closing the book and holding it as if he thought it would protect him. "What is you reading, boy?" He screamed, grabbing the book and holding it to his face upside down, "More filth!?" He screeched, the book flying to the other end of the room
"No, father." Little William called, "It was a book about-" He couldn't finish as Robert grabbed his chin roughly.
"Stop lying to me!" He thundered. He pushed little William to the floor, putting the bottle on the mantle while reaching for the stand that held the metal tools for the fire. "The belt didn't teach you anything! Maybe this will." And he pulled forth the fire poker.
"No." Little William begged, "Father, please!" The boy shuffled back as much as possible until he hit the wall. The boy huddled in on himself to protect himself.
"Father, no!" Graham hollered as Christine screamed. Little William cried out as his father pulled on his hair and forced him to face him.
"You'll never amount to anything." Robert whispered darkly, "You're not worthy of the name MacInroy and as prove of that," The pointed end of the poker came dangerously close to the boy's eye, "I'm going to fuck up your pretty little face." He released little William's head, purposely making sure that it bumped against the hard, stone wall. The boy watched in terror as his father lifted the metal rod and swung down. A burning pain pulsed through his eyes and little William cried out in pain. He opened his eyes, surprised he could still see with his injured one, and saw his father lift the rod again.
"No." William whispered, watching Graham run to the boy, "No! Graham, don't!" He screamed, watching his brother as he threw his body over that of his little self, protecting the child from the blow.
The instant Robert swung down, William was sucked back into the room of black, panting heavily with tears brimming his eyes as he thought back to what he had just seen. A hole in his shoulder was what Graham got for that stunt. He recovered a few days after and rarely let William out of his sight since. William had thought it annoying for his brother to stalk his every move but he was grateful because the constant watch stopped the beatings.
A tear fell from his eye when he thought about the fact that he never repaid his brother for it.
Crying, William kept walking, watching as stars flew by with each step that he took. He missed Graham so much. If anything, he missed him more than his mother or Boyd. They were so close; they did almost everything together. When news came of Graham's death, William shut himself in his room for a week, barely eating or drinking anything.
"Will."
William stopped in his path, angry fuming in him at the sound of the voice. Was his father back to torment him?
"Leave me a-" His voice got caught in his throat at the sight of Graham, standing tall and proud in front of him. Without thinking, he ran to his brother, wanting nothing more than to hug him but when William touched him, he disappeared. "No!" He screamed, searching frantically around him. "Graham!" He hollered desperately, his voice echoing loudly. His search ended when he saw a figure in the distance, slowly walking to him. "Graham?" William whispered, his voice shaking.
The figure stepped into the light, carrying a stoic look on his face as blood expanded into his white shirt and blue vest.
"What happened to you, Will? What happened to the friend I once knew?" Flynn spoke slowly and his voice was oozing with grief.
"Go away!" William screamed, his tears falling without stop, "Get out of here!" He wanted to turn and run but his fear sent him to the floor as the shapes of the blacksmith, the maid, and the stableman appeared in front of him. They were staring at him with absolute hatred in their eyes, scars circling their neck where the axe had severed their head from their body.
"No! Go away!" He thundered but they kept coming closer, their sight never wavering. William pulled his knees to his chest, expecting hits to assault him but nothing. Panting heavily, he looked up to find he was alone once more. He lowered his head and started sobbing into his knee.
"William?" A small hand laid itself gently on his shoulder, scaring the lord. He looked up with a gasp and stared into Merida's blue eyes. She was smiling at him but still carried a concerned frown on her face. Without thinking, William threw his arms around her neck and hugged her tight, desperately in need of some comfort. Merida made hushing sounds as she rubbed William's back in an attempt to calm him down.
"It's alright, William." She cooed, "Everything will be fine." But then, William felt a punch to his stomach. Gasping for breath, he fell back to the floor, clutching his stomach as blood spilled out of the gaping wound. He glared at Merida, who glared back with an equally intense stare. In her hand she held a silver knife, the blade covered in red to the hilt. She knelt beside him, snatching his throat in her free hand while she aimed the knife at his heart.
"Die, you devil." She uttered.
The instant the knife struck, William's eyes shot open. Letting out a scream, he sat up straight in his bed, feeling around his chest to find no injury of any sort. Placing a hand to his sweaty forehead, William threw himself back to the mattress, letting out a sigh of relief. It was just a dream; Merida did not kill him.
He looked to the window, finding the sun was already starting to rise. Today was his wedding. Smiling, William got out of bed, deciding to get ready for his special day.
He washed face, combed his hair, cleaned his teeth and put on the clothing that had been laid out the night before. It didn't take long for him to finish. Once he was he went to the window and watched the world below him
He just stood there, staring to the rising sun until he heard the door click behind him.
Who could possibly be at the door?
Galoot is Scottish slang for "idiot"
If you guys felt sorry at all for William, let me know because that's what I hoped to achieve with this chapter.
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This is not related to Until the End in anyway but, some of you may have noticed I posted a Frozen fiction called Radiance a little while ago. It's likely that I'll continue with it and I'm looking for some constructive critique on the chapter I have posted and a beta for the rest. If any of you want to beta or know someone who could beta it, please send me a message.