Post by Minuit on Dec 22, 2012 22:35:20 GMT 10
To: Allie
Message: Merry Christmas! I hope you can enjoy this story by a crackling fireplace.
From: Minuit (Sue)
Title: One of da's stories
Rating: G
Word Count: 2,141 words
Prompt: 5. father/daughter and/or father/son moments with Aly, Alan and George
Summary: Aly and Alan want to hear one of their da's special stories.
“These require your immediate attention and …”
“Da, da, read us a story!” Aly and Alan came bursting in through his study door, interrupting the messenger.
“Did you two get away from the nursery again?” George laughed and shook his head.
“No…” the two children looked down.
“Did you play a trick on your nurse again?”
“Not exactly.” Aly piped up.
“We just want a story da. Just one.” Alan pleaded.
“And then we'll be good.”
“We promise.” They chorused together.
“That will be all.” George dismissed his messenger with a wave and a sigh. Even this urgent business could wait just a little longer. With Alanna gone on King’s business this close to Midwinter, the children missed her so and needed some comfort. “Come on you two, back to your chambers.” George ushered them out of his study, and walked hand in hand with them down the hall.
He found their current minder running frantically down the hall from the nursery. She came to an abrupt stop after she almost ran into them. “My lord!” She curtsied with a wobble, frantically smoothing her skirts. “I didn't realise, I mean, I didn't think they’d gotten … they shouldn't have interrupted you. I'm sorry.”
“It’s alright.” George bit back a smile. The twins ducked behind his breeches, peeking out at her. The girl was new after all, not used to the twins. “ I'll take them to their beds. You can retire for the night.”
“Oh my lord, that’s not necessary, I can…”
“No I insist. They want a story from me and you'll get no peace out of them until they do. Relax. Have an early night.”
“Thank you my lord.” She curtsied and hurried off.
“Come on you two.” Changing his mind, he ushered his two twins into his and Alanna’s room, and settled in with them on the big couch in front of the fireplace. “What story would you like to hear?”
“One of your stories da.” Aly insisted.
“Yeah, one of yours.” Alan echoed. His sister must have insisted. Usually Alan will want to hear a hero story, but Aly always wanted to hear one of his stories, the ones that made Alanna frown when she heard him tell them to the younger children.
“All right.” George decided to indulge them. “Just one.” He wrapped his arms around Aly on his left and Alan on his right, settling their heads on his shoulders.
“Once upon a time, there was a far away land. Deep in the capital, in the poorer part of town, there lived a beautiful woman and her only son. The son’s father was nowhere to be found. Ever since he could remember, it was just the two of them.” George paused and gazed into the crackling fire, smiling at the fond memories of what now seemed like a lifetime ago.
“They were poor, but happy. The mother worked so hard to make sure he always had enough to eat, while she sometimes went hungry. The boy was clever, his mother always called him too clever for his own good. And he had sharp eyes. Those eyes saw so much more than a boy should have. He saw the shiny pretty clothes the merchants wore, the sparklies on the passing noblemen’s fingers and around the noblewomen’s necks; he saw the things they didn't have. He saw how others looked down on his mother, and turned away, because she had a son and no husband. He saw them sneer behind their hands at their worn clothes with the much mended patches. It made him angry, and it made him sad. Not for himself, but for his mother. He didn't want her to suffer because of him.”
“Those people are mean.” Alan said.
“They should be taught a lesson.” Aly said. “Is the boy going to teach them?”
“Patience,” George pretended to scold. “Let me tell the story.”
He waited until they settled down again to continue.
“The boy grew bigger and stronger as he got older. And he grew smarter. He saw other boys, some of the meaner boys take things from the rich folk; the folk who looked down on his mother and made her sad. She had always told him to stay away from those boys, told him they were trouble. She kept telling him to mind his letters and be a good boy. But after a while, he began to copy those he saw. He was tired of seeing his mother sad and hungry, and having others always look down on them. So he took things; small items from people who could afford to lose them, and used them to buy enough food for the both of them, and nice things for his mother. She knew of course. She punished him when she caught him, and scolded him so bad once when he was caught. But still, he kept doing it; he just got more careful. He never took too much from one person, and never took anything from anyone who couldn't afford to replace it. And each time, he wouldn’t buy things like toys for himself; he would save a part of his money, and use a little to buy food for them and extra little things for his mother. After a while, even she stopped scolding him when she saw how much faster he grew, and how much stronger he became, with more food in his belly. At first she’d make him take back the things he gave her, but after she saw how sad it made him that she’d returned his gifts, she stopped. By then he’d learned to only buy her useful things, things she could use to make their house better, or use to make more money. It was hard to argue with a boy who never said no, and never talked back, but who simply found a new way to do things so she couldn't say no. After a while, she saw how happy it made him to see her enjoy the gifts he gave her, and she stopped fighting it so much. And when the boy saw how his mother ate more, and wore clothes what were not completely worn and fitted her well, he was happy.”
George paused, and looked down at the twins, staring at him intently and trying to keep their sleepy eyes open. Smiling, he went on. “As the boy grew, he got better at stealing things. He watched people, studied how they behaved, and he learned to be patient, and learned to be quick. Some of the bigger lads didn’t like that he was so good. They tried to stop him. They’d beat him when they caught him and take what he stole. But the boy had friends. He used to take extra food to the poor old beggar man around the corner, the one who was always kind to him. One day, that man found the boy after the older lads had ambushed him. The next day, the old man started teaching the boy how to wield a knife. The boy didn't know how the man knew all these things, but he was glad to learn it; and he was a fast learner. The boy was also smart enough to hide it from his mother.”
“Why did he have to hide it?”
“Because she would have scolded him silly!”
“No she wouldn't have!”
“She would have thought it too dangerous and scolded him for it.” Aly looked up at him. “ Isn't that right da?”
“Yes Aly, that’s right.” George smiled. “Now let me tell the story.”
“The boy learned how to fight from the old man. And he also crept over the soldier’s practice yards, to watch how they fought. He wanted to be the best. He wanted to be so good that no one would be able to pick on him again. Pretty soon he got good enough that he always carried some knifes with him.”
“Did he find the boys who beat him and teach them a lesson?”
“Aly! Don’t interrupt.” Alan scolded his sister, who responded by sticking out her tongue.
“Yes he did, eventually.” George continued, as he ruffled their hair and settled them back down again. “He studied those bigger lads, watched how they all deferred to one of the biggest lads, because they were scared of him. This lad was mean. One day, he saw the big lad beating a young thief. The boy couldn’t watch any more. He stepped in and stood up for the younger lad. He fought with the bigger lad and won. This shamed him, and the lad’s followers no longer respected him. They didn’t obey him any more, they laughed at him. So the bigger lads left. The young thief that the boy had helped was very grateful, and they became friends.”
“Not long after that incident, some older men came to get the boy. They took him to see the boss thief; the King they called him.”
“The King of the Thieves?” They whispered in awe.
“Yes, now hush.” George smoothed their hair and rubbed their backs, smiling as they both struggled to keep their eyes open. “The king was a large old man. He once might have been great, but now he was just old. He relied on his reputation and past deeds to keep people obeying him. This man told the boy that if he wanted to steal things in the king’s city, then the boy needed to pay the king, like normal folk paid the real King up on the throne. The boy didn't like this. But the man said any who didn't show respect would pay in other ways. The boy had kept a keen eye and ear out with a lot of people in the city; that was how he found out who he could steal from. He’d heard stories about this king, about what happened to people who disobeyed.”
“Were they killed?” Aly said.
“Did the king chop off their heads?” Alan asked.
This was why Alanna had frowned when George told them this story.
“They were never to be seen again. When you’re both older mayhap I’ll tell you how it happened.” George grinned. “Now where was I? Oh yes, the boy was afraid. He looked around the room they took him to, and saw the men with their hard eyes and sharp blades, and decided he didn’t want to disappear. If he was gone, who would protect his mother? So he agreed. He stole, and gave a part of his money to the king. His thefts got bigger and bigger as his skills got better, jewels, horses, and even entire carriages. The king was very happy with the smart boy, and the king’s friends encouraged the boy to send his money with them. But the boy always kept a part of the money back in his secret safe spot, and bought a little something to help his mother. He also liked buying her flowers; she never bit her lip and argued with him over flowers. Soon enough, the boy was one of the best thieves around. Some of the thief king’s men didn't like that very much. But the boy’s quick mind and quicker tongue made many friends. And he knew that he needed to keep an eye out for those with an unnatural gleam in their eye.”
“Did they try to kill him?”
“Yeah did they?” Alan yawned, as did Aly.
“All right you two, you can barely keep your eyes open.” George scooped them up and carried them back out the door. “Time for bed.”
“But da!” They pleaded. “Just a little more.”
“Not tonight. It’s late and your da still has work to do.” George walked into the twins’ room with two little sleepy heads on his shoulders. “Be good and go to bed, and I’ll tell you the rest tomorrow night.” He placed them carefully in their beds, and kissed them both good night.
As he was tucking Aly’s blanket around her chin, she opened one eye and whispered to him, “I want to be like that boy when I grow up.” His heart in his throat, George placed one last kiss on her little head and went to the door.
Watching them sleep, George put a hand over his heart, not quite believing how he’d come from being that scared little boy, to here, a Baron with a beautiful wife and three adorable children. Satisfied that they’d both fall asleep soon, he turned and walked back to his study. He had reports to finish after all. Grinning to himself, he also realised he had to think of how to clean up the rest of the story some for young ears, so his loving wife won’t get too angry with him when she found out he’d told them that story.
Message: Merry Christmas! I hope you can enjoy this story by a crackling fireplace.
From: Minuit (Sue)
Title: One of da's stories
Rating: G
Word Count: 2,141 words
Prompt: 5. father/daughter and/or father/son moments with Aly, Alan and George
Summary: Aly and Alan want to hear one of their da's special stories.
“These require your immediate attention and …”
“Da, da, read us a story!” Aly and Alan came bursting in through his study door, interrupting the messenger.
“Did you two get away from the nursery again?” George laughed and shook his head.
“No…” the two children looked down.
“Did you play a trick on your nurse again?”
“Not exactly.” Aly piped up.
“We just want a story da. Just one.” Alan pleaded.
“And then we'll be good.”
“We promise.” They chorused together.
“That will be all.” George dismissed his messenger with a wave and a sigh. Even this urgent business could wait just a little longer. With Alanna gone on King’s business this close to Midwinter, the children missed her so and needed some comfort. “Come on you two, back to your chambers.” George ushered them out of his study, and walked hand in hand with them down the hall.
He found their current minder running frantically down the hall from the nursery. She came to an abrupt stop after she almost ran into them. “My lord!” She curtsied with a wobble, frantically smoothing her skirts. “I didn't realise, I mean, I didn't think they’d gotten … they shouldn't have interrupted you. I'm sorry.”
“It’s alright.” George bit back a smile. The twins ducked behind his breeches, peeking out at her. The girl was new after all, not used to the twins. “ I'll take them to their beds. You can retire for the night.”
“Oh my lord, that’s not necessary, I can…”
“No I insist. They want a story from me and you'll get no peace out of them until they do. Relax. Have an early night.”
“Thank you my lord.” She curtsied and hurried off.
“Come on you two.” Changing his mind, he ushered his two twins into his and Alanna’s room, and settled in with them on the big couch in front of the fireplace. “What story would you like to hear?”
“One of your stories da.” Aly insisted.
“Yeah, one of yours.” Alan echoed. His sister must have insisted. Usually Alan will want to hear a hero story, but Aly always wanted to hear one of his stories, the ones that made Alanna frown when she heard him tell them to the younger children.
“All right.” George decided to indulge them. “Just one.” He wrapped his arms around Aly on his left and Alan on his right, settling their heads on his shoulders.
“Once upon a time, there was a far away land. Deep in the capital, in the poorer part of town, there lived a beautiful woman and her only son. The son’s father was nowhere to be found. Ever since he could remember, it was just the two of them.” George paused and gazed into the crackling fire, smiling at the fond memories of what now seemed like a lifetime ago.
“They were poor, but happy. The mother worked so hard to make sure he always had enough to eat, while she sometimes went hungry. The boy was clever, his mother always called him too clever for his own good. And he had sharp eyes. Those eyes saw so much more than a boy should have. He saw the shiny pretty clothes the merchants wore, the sparklies on the passing noblemen’s fingers and around the noblewomen’s necks; he saw the things they didn't have. He saw how others looked down on his mother, and turned away, because she had a son and no husband. He saw them sneer behind their hands at their worn clothes with the much mended patches. It made him angry, and it made him sad. Not for himself, but for his mother. He didn't want her to suffer because of him.”
“Those people are mean.” Alan said.
“They should be taught a lesson.” Aly said. “Is the boy going to teach them?”
“Patience,” George pretended to scold. “Let me tell the story.”
He waited until they settled down again to continue.
“The boy grew bigger and stronger as he got older. And he grew smarter. He saw other boys, some of the meaner boys take things from the rich folk; the folk who looked down on his mother and made her sad. She had always told him to stay away from those boys, told him they were trouble. She kept telling him to mind his letters and be a good boy. But after a while, he began to copy those he saw. He was tired of seeing his mother sad and hungry, and having others always look down on them. So he took things; small items from people who could afford to lose them, and used them to buy enough food for the both of them, and nice things for his mother. She knew of course. She punished him when she caught him, and scolded him so bad once when he was caught. But still, he kept doing it; he just got more careful. He never took too much from one person, and never took anything from anyone who couldn't afford to replace it. And each time, he wouldn’t buy things like toys for himself; he would save a part of his money, and use a little to buy food for them and extra little things for his mother. After a while, even she stopped scolding him when she saw how much faster he grew, and how much stronger he became, with more food in his belly. At first she’d make him take back the things he gave her, but after she saw how sad it made him that she’d returned his gifts, she stopped. By then he’d learned to only buy her useful things, things she could use to make their house better, or use to make more money. It was hard to argue with a boy who never said no, and never talked back, but who simply found a new way to do things so she couldn't say no. After a while, she saw how happy it made him to see her enjoy the gifts he gave her, and she stopped fighting it so much. And when the boy saw how his mother ate more, and wore clothes what were not completely worn and fitted her well, he was happy.”
George paused, and looked down at the twins, staring at him intently and trying to keep their sleepy eyes open. Smiling, he went on. “As the boy grew, he got better at stealing things. He watched people, studied how they behaved, and he learned to be patient, and learned to be quick. Some of the bigger lads didn’t like that he was so good. They tried to stop him. They’d beat him when they caught him and take what he stole. But the boy had friends. He used to take extra food to the poor old beggar man around the corner, the one who was always kind to him. One day, that man found the boy after the older lads had ambushed him. The next day, the old man started teaching the boy how to wield a knife. The boy didn't know how the man knew all these things, but he was glad to learn it; and he was a fast learner. The boy was also smart enough to hide it from his mother.”
“Why did he have to hide it?”
“Because she would have scolded him silly!”
“No she wouldn't have!”
“She would have thought it too dangerous and scolded him for it.” Aly looked up at him. “ Isn't that right da?”
“Yes Aly, that’s right.” George smiled. “Now let me tell the story.”
“The boy learned how to fight from the old man. And he also crept over the soldier’s practice yards, to watch how they fought. He wanted to be the best. He wanted to be so good that no one would be able to pick on him again. Pretty soon he got good enough that he always carried some knifes with him.”
“Did he find the boys who beat him and teach them a lesson?”
“Aly! Don’t interrupt.” Alan scolded his sister, who responded by sticking out her tongue.
“Yes he did, eventually.” George continued, as he ruffled their hair and settled them back down again. “He studied those bigger lads, watched how they all deferred to one of the biggest lads, because they were scared of him. This lad was mean. One day, he saw the big lad beating a young thief. The boy couldn’t watch any more. He stepped in and stood up for the younger lad. He fought with the bigger lad and won. This shamed him, and the lad’s followers no longer respected him. They didn’t obey him any more, they laughed at him. So the bigger lads left. The young thief that the boy had helped was very grateful, and they became friends.”
“Not long after that incident, some older men came to get the boy. They took him to see the boss thief; the King they called him.”
“The King of the Thieves?” They whispered in awe.
“Yes, now hush.” George smoothed their hair and rubbed their backs, smiling as they both struggled to keep their eyes open. “The king was a large old man. He once might have been great, but now he was just old. He relied on his reputation and past deeds to keep people obeying him. This man told the boy that if he wanted to steal things in the king’s city, then the boy needed to pay the king, like normal folk paid the real King up on the throne. The boy didn't like this. But the man said any who didn't show respect would pay in other ways. The boy had kept a keen eye and ear out with a lot of people in the city; that was how he found out who he could steal from. He’d heard stories about this king, about what happened to people who disobeyed.”
“Were they killed?” Aly said.
“Did the king chop off their heads?” Alan asked.
This was why Alanna had frowned when George told them this story.
“They were never to be seen again. When you’re both older mayhap I’ll tell you how it happened.” George grinned. “Now where was I? Oh yes, the boy was afraid. He looked around the room they took him to, and saw the men with their hard eyes and sharp blades, and decided he didn’t want to disappear. If he was gone, who would protect his mother? So he agreed. He stole, and gave a part of his money to the king. His thefts got bigger and bigger as his skills got better, jewels, horses, and even entire carriages. The king was very happy with the smart boy, and the king’s friends encouraged the boy to send his money with them. But the boy always kept a part of the money back in his secret safe spot, and bought a little something to help his mother. He also liked buying her flowers; she never bit her lip and argued with him over flowers. Soon enough, the boy was one of the best thieves around. Some of the thief king’s men didn't like that very much. But the boy’s quick mind and quicker tongue made many friends. And he knew that he needed to keep an eye out for those with an unnatural gleam in their eye.”
“Did they try to kill him?”
“Yeah did they?” Alan yawned, as did Aly.
“All right you two, you can barely keep your eyes open.” George scooped them up and carried them back out the door. “Time for bed.”
“But da!” They pleaded. “Just a little more.”
“Not tonight. It’s late and your da still has work to do.” George walked into the twins’ room with two little sleepy heads on his shoulders. “Be good and go to bed, and I’ll tell you the rest tomorrow night.” He placed them carefully in their beds, and kissed them both good night.
As he was tucking Aly’s blanket around her chin, she opened one eye and whispered to him, “I want to be like that boy when I grow up.” His heart in his throat, George placed one last kiss on her little head and went to the door.
Watching them sleep, George put a hand over his heart, not quite believing how he’d come from being that scared little boy, to here, a Baron with a beautiful wife and three adorable children. Satisfied that they’d both fall asleep soon, he turned and walked back to his study. He had reports to finish after all. Grinning to himself, he also realised he had to think of how to clean up the rest of the story some for young ears, so his loving wife won’t get too angry with him when she found out he’d told them that story.