I said this on Tumblr recently but in case you didn't see it:

In one of the behind-in-the-scenes interview things made to promote Bill, Ben talked about the Shakespeare everyone already knows eventually appearing in the film, but the story showing him being a bit of a loser first. This story is similar - the Ian you know will appear eventually, but he's gonna be different at first. We'll get him there~


Chapter 1

"I wasn't there!"

"Exactly!"

Ian scowled under his mother's glowering stare, quickly faltering and letting his eyes fall to the ground. He knew she was right. He knew it was a terrible excuse.

"She's your sister, Ian," she continued, her tone remaining stern while a softness crept into her eyes. She crouched down, only making him feel worse, "She relies on you to take care of her out there."

"I do take care of her! It's not my fault she ran off on her own."

"You were supposed to be keeping an eye on her, and look what happened!"

Ian had, in fact, been keeping an eye on his sister for almost an hour, and she hadn't really done much worth speaking of. Alice had been content to run up and down the field, scaring the birds away from the seeds. Seeing as she was occupied, Ian had eventually stopped checking on her. It wasn't worth it, as far as he was concerned, to continuously stop working only to look at Alice waving her arms and shouting for a few seconds, when he would be finished a lot faster if he just left her to it.

Then he heard her shriek a fair distance away and looked up to find her gone. It turned out that she had chased a particularly stubborn crow through the gate and ended up on the nearby path. There, she had tripped on a gnarled tree root and fell, twisting her ankle. And, in his defence, Ian had immediately ran to help her.

"I was watching her and she hadn't done anything in ages!" he whined, "I couldn't have known she would leave the field."

His mother sighed and shook her head, frustrated. It felt as though they had these sorts of conversations every other day, and no matter what, she just couldn't get anywhere with him. Her son was smart, she knew, and very capable, but it seemed as though he simply didn't care. She looked back at him, almost pleadingly.

"Don't you want to keep her safe?"

Ian's eyes dropped to the ground, "... Yes," he said in a small voice.

"Then you need to be more responsible. Alright?" she waited for a response but his head stayed down, "Alright?"

He hummed half-heartedly and she decided that was probably the best she would get out of him, at least for now. She straightened up and ushered him inside the house, giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze.

– SUCH SWEET SORROW –

Ian often spent his mornings and evenings, especially when he was supposed to be working or looking after Alice, watching the wealthier boys in the town going to and from school. He was, admittedly, rather jealous of them. They didn't have to help their parents at work just to be able to eat, and they certainly didn't have to babysit their younger siblings. Not when they had reading and writing lessons to attend. Not when they had a future. They were the type who might one day walk amongst the nobility, maybe even royalty. Those boys were going to be successful men. And Ian... wasn't...

He resented those boys. Hated them, even. And he wasn't above letting them know that he hated them. But for some time, it never advanced past petty insults and taunts being thrown back and forth between them. That was, until Alice was caught in the middle of it.

She was helping Ian carry some food and supplies home from the market one evening when a group of schoolboys approached from the opposite direction. None of them paid Alice any mind; she was an unimportant little girl to them and nothing more. Ian had the sense to step out of their way, knowing there was no way they would move aside for him, but Alice didn't. She bumped right into one of the boys and just barely caught herself before she dropped anything. But these boys weren't going to just let her go.

"Oi, watch where you're going!"

She was shoved backwards by the one she'd bumped into, losing her grip now, then forwards by another, sending everything in her arms tumbling to the ground.

Then Ian got in between her and them. He pushed the nearest boy away from her.

"Leave her alone, she didn't do anything."

Alice took the opportunity to pick everything she could back up and hurried to hide behind her brother as the boy she'd bumped into snapped back at him.

"She walked into me!" he turned his attention to Alice, "Learn to look where you're going."

"You could have moved out of the way, you know," Ian said plainly.

"Why should I? You two are peasants, we don't need to stand aside for your type."

Ian could only assume he was parroting the sort of entitled nonsense he heard from his father at home. He rolled his eyes, "Aren't you lot supposed to learn proper manners and all that?"

"What do you know about manners? What do you know about anything for that matter, you spend all day in a field!"

It didn't take much longer for the fighting to turn physical, and it was Ian who threw the first punch. Alice yelped and jumped out of the way while the other schoolboys egged on their friend. The two of them were on the ground now, Ian initially pinning the other boy down but soon finding himself being flipped over. There was stones on the path digging into his back and pain blooming in his cheek where he'd been hit but he was determined not to let himself be beaten.

But his little sister was there, and she was afraid, and this had gone on for long enough. Ian managed to wrestle his way out of the boy's grasp and clambered to his feet again. Before any of them could stop him, he turned and stormed off towards home, calling for Alice to follow him. His stride was longer than hers and she struggled to keep up, but she made a good effort.

Neither of them spoke for a while, until Alice couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Ian?"

He glanced back at her, "What?"

"Thank you."

He was quiet for a second or two, "... I'm your brother. It's my job to look after you."

Another short silence.

"Ian?"

"What?"

"I'm glad you're my brother."

He just hummed in response. She finally caught up with him and took his hand, but he snatched it away, grabbing her by the wrist instead and pulling her along behind him. She let him lead her home.

There was no hiding his bruised face and generally scruffy appearance from their parents, nor Alice's anxious expression. Ian hoped he could walk right past them before either of them could say a single word but no such luck.

"What on earth happened to you?" his father asked, concerned, as his mother stooped down to pull him closer and inspect the damage.

"Nothing," Ian insisted, trying his best to worm his way out of her grasp, "I just tripped."

"He was fighting with a boy from the school."

"What?"

Ian cringed at his sister's innocent attempt to help. Now, his mother and father were both looking at him and although he kept his eyes down, he knew those disappointed faces all too well, along with the warning tone of his mother.

"Ian..."

Alice piped up again, "The other boy pushed me 'cause I bumped into him and Ian pushed him back."

Ian glanced at her, then finally met his mother's eyes, taking the opportunity, "They were bullying her. I was just standing up for her."

"That's all well and good, Ian," his father said, "But you can't keep on picking fights like this."

"I wasn't! He started it!" he insisted, "I wouldn't have done anything if they'd left Alice alone."

His mother sighed, "We're proud of you for protecting your sister, but you don't need to get into fights to do it! If you keep going on like this it's going to become a problem, you know."

"I know. But it was for Alice this time. I really wouldn't have done anything otherwise."

His parents shared a look, but said nothing more on the matter. Instead, they ushered the children to the kitchen to help prepare dinner. Alice remained quiet, and Ian had to wonder if she felt guilty. Maybe she regretted speaking up in his defence seeing how her parents still berated him for fighting. She shouldn't feel so bad, he thought. Her words were the reason he wasn't in so much trouble.

– SUCH SWEET SORROW –

"It's going to be a long winter this year, isn't it?"

Ian lay awake in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, listening. He knew they thought he couldn't hear them – they thought he'd be asleep by now – but the uneasy tone of his parents' whispered conversation coming from the next room was impossible to ignore. He looked over at Alice to check she was sleeping and once he'd confirmed that she was, he quietly slipped out of bed and crept closer to the door to hear better.

"It was already going to be hard with the earl raising taxes," his father was saying, "And on top of that, the last harvest wasn't exactly the best we've seen."

"Still no chance of any help from your brother?"

Ian imagined him shaking his head, "Doesn't seem likely. He's got his own burdens to bear without taking on ours as well."

"They are in much the same situation as us, I suppose. Still, what is there we can do?"

He now imagined the face his father always made when he was thinking; eyes flickering towards the ceiling, then down again, brow furrowed and bottom lip protruding ever so slightly.

"Ian could always find a job in town."

Ian perked up at the mention of his name. Find a job? Him?

He heard his mother laugh half-heartedly, "That'll be the day," she went silent again for a moment, "Could we really expect that of him, though?"

"He's a good boy, at heart."

"... He can be good. When it matters," she paused, then sighed, "Or when he feels it matters. I want so much to believe he can do better, but he makes it so hard to believe."

"He's still young," came his father's gentle voice, "Just you wait till he grows up. He'll be a good, honest man, and a hard worker-"

"But what good does it do to think about that future when he's struggling in the present? I can't trust he'll be alright then until I know he's alright now."

Neither of them said a word for a short while then, and Ian had to assume his father was comforting his mother, while her words echoed in his mind.

He makes it so hard...

He did. He knew he did. He was headstrong, and argumentative, and far too quick to start a fight when provoked. He didn't much care if he caused problems for other people, so long as it didn't affect his own family, and that did often reflect badly on his parents. Before he knew it, he was in a spiral of self-deprecation. He was stirred from it when his mother finally spoke again.

"At least we know he's a good brother to Alice."

He bit his lip as he heard his father agree and leaned against the door frame for a moment. Then he turned around to look at his sister, fast asleep in their shared bed. As much as he complained about having to share, he appreciated having her with him. He knew she was safe this way. He was there when she needed him.

He realised he'd drifted off into thought for a second time when Alice groggily called out to him.

"Ian...?"

"I'm here," he said immediately as he made his way back over to her and climbed under the covers once again, "Here, everything's alright."

She yawned and nestled back down, "Good."

"... Alice?"

"Mm-hm?"

"... I'm sorry I was so mean to you earlier. I do love you, really, you know."

"You weren't mean. You saved me. And I love you, too," she smiled up at him.

Ian couldn't help but smile back and quickly kissed her forehead, "Goodnight, Alice."