Reflection - Chapter 2.1
anonymous
March 14 2010, 07:24:47 UTC
Note: In this, Peter and Arthur are not related and the “invaders” are referred to as “the north” or the “northerners”. Apologies to those who were expecting some in depth training details/chapters, but since this is UK/US, I want to get to the meat and potatoes of the story :)
++
“Pinch of sulfer.”
Footsteps pounded into the wooden floorboard, the sound of a clattering glass lid and a pointed, heaving gasp flooded the air.
“…Pinch of sulfer-“
“Check!”
A pause; only the sounds of the boiling water; each heated bubble emitting colored gases, smelling of sweet roses and rotten eggs.
“One cat whisker.”
More footsteps and heavy breathing. Several glass lids clattered together, one hitting the floor with a solid thunk.
“…One…cat whisker-“
“Ch-check!”
The whisker was thrown into the cauldron. There was a hiss, a flash of light, and the boiling water exploded. Screams and yells erupted, and the door to the room was thrown open. Black smoke belched from the doorway, filling the hall and exiting out an open window. Coughing and hacking followed.
“D-damnit… Peter-!” A gasping, wheezing cough interrupted. “I… said cat… whisker! Not… rabbit whisker!”
“I did! I… I grabbed the cat one!” Peter coughed and rubbed his eyes with his arm, smearing the black markings. “Arthur… you must have read it wrong!”
“I didn’t read it wrong!” Arthur ground through clenched teeth. “I wasn’t reading anything! I-”
Peter laughed. “Oh well no wonder! You were doing it from memory!”
Arthur blinked and felt something hot filling his chest. “…Pardon?”
“-because your too old to remember anything, jerk!”
Peter turned and sprinted down the stairs. Arthur chased after him with a sputtering growl, and grabbed the back of his shirt. Peter cried out and flailed his arms.
“Peter, damnit, stop moving-!” Arthur’s foot slipped and the two tumbled down the stairs. “Gah!”
Arthur landed hard on his back with Peter sprawled over him.
“L-let go-!”
Arthur surged to his feet. “This is all your fault! I should send you back to Berwald and Tino and tell them exactly how you’ve been behaving-!“
“No! Don’t send me back, please! I promised I’d make them proud and become a wizard, like you!” Peter gasped and flung his arms around Arthur’s waist. “Don’t send me back. I… I’ll disappoint them.”
Arthur glared at the boy and gently pried his arms away. “…if you won’t want to be sent back home, then start paying attention. And if I haven’t told you a thousand times, you must memorize the exact order of ingredient jars! Honestly-“
A knock echoed in the hall. Arthur turned from Peter, and found someone standing beyond the front entrance to his home, the figure casting a shadow on the stained glass set in the double doors. “Go prepare some tea for our guest while I get that.”
Peter frowned, wrinkling his nose, but nodded and rushed to the kitchen. “And remember the milk!” Arthur sighed, ignoring the boy’s loud, pointed groan, moved down the hall and opened the door in one fluid move. “Ah- Tino! Peter and I were just talking about you.”
Re: Reflection - Chapter 2.2
anonymous
March 14 2010, 07:26:08 UTC
The shorter man smiled, faint amusement twinkling in his eyes. “Really? He hasn’t been too much trouble?”
Arthur moved aside, allowing Peter’s guardian to walk in and shut the door behind him. “…About the same. Have you come to check in on his progress?”
“That… and the war. Have you heard?”
Arthur took Tino’s coat from him and hung it on the peg in the entryway. “Yes… the north took Vertfield. To think they have already come that far inland…” The two walked down the hall, Arthur leading him to the sitting room. “I’m actually glad you have come. I haven’t told Peter yet but… I’ve received a draft summons.”
Tino found an empty seat in one of the plush, red velvet chairs. “I was wondering when they would start targeting wizards. In fact-“
Peter stormed into the room, setting the teapot on the table, along with two cups and saucers. “Tino~!” The boy threw his arms around the older man. “It’s been forever since you last came!”
“It’s only been two weeks,” Arthur corrected; he leaned forward from his seat opposite of Tino and poured the tea, immediately noticing various missing objects. “Peter, the milk-”
The boy heaved a sigh, extracted his arms from around Tino’s neck and ran back to the kitchen.
“-And the scones!” Arthur shook his head in dismay. “The boy would forget his own head if it weren’t already attached.”
Tino chuckled softly. “Yes, he’s always been that way.” The chuckling died away, his face turning more serious. “Arthur… about the summons-”
“-There’s nothing to worry about. I won’t take him with-“
“-I want him to go with you.”
Arthur paused, cold surprise striking him. “…Come again?”
“I think it would be… very good for him to continue his apprenticeship with you during the war.”
“But…” Arthur set the delicate cups upon their respective saucers. “Tino… I… are you sure? He’s just a boy, I don’t think-“
“It will be good for him to see the world. I have faith in your ability to keep him from harm.”
“I-…” Arthur swallowed. “Well… if you insist.”
“What?” Peter came into the room once again, carrying a glass of milk and a plate full of half-burnt scones. “We’re… going to war?”
Tino stared at his adoptive son, hands clasped together in his lap. “And you’re to go with Arthur.”
“But- but what about Berwald-“
“-Berwald agrees with me, Peter.”
Arthur remained silent, choosing to take the milk and scones away from the boy before they ended up on the floor, and placed them on the table. Immediately, he prepared the tea, stirring the milk in each cup thoroughly.
Peter frowned. “…Did… did I do something wrong?”
“No, no. Of course not,” Tino reassured. “But we feel that it would be for the best. Not as a punishment, but as a… learning experience. Oikea?”(1)
Arthur took a slow mouthful of tea, savoring the taste before swallowing. “We will be with the infantry up in the northern forests. You will be able to meet many new people and see new places.”
Re: Reflection - Chapter 2.3
anonymous
March 14 2010, 07:27:28 UTC
++
Three Weeks After Arriving
“Ludwig is only looking out for you. I doubt he’d want you eating really rich food right before training...”
Alice held her metal bowl out at the mess personnel working the kitchens. The man spooned a watery mixture of beef, more fat than lean meat, and potatoes into the bowl.
“Onesto! Non posso vivere con questo cibo cattivo~…” (2)
Alice left the crowed mess tent, disliking sitting within a large group of men in fear of being caught, and found an empty grassy spot. “English, Feliciano.”
Feliciano stared at the soupy mess in his bowl and whimpered. “This food has no taste… I…I wish he would let me make pasta...”
Alice watched Feliciano take a seat beside her and speared a potato with her fork. Three weeks had come and gone since she first arrived, and still no one knew her secret. Smiling, she bit the potato off the fork, chewed and swallowed quickly, feeling proud of herself for keeping her secret hidden for so long. Granted, she had to sneak cold sponge baths at night and wake up before Ivan to readjust her breast-bindings, but in her mind, she felt it was worth it if her brother would remain safe.
“Well… look on the bright side. At least Gilbert isn’t drilling us anymore.”
Feliciano only moaned and stared at the watery, soupy mess on his plate with a defeated frown.
Alice stuffed a piece of fatty meat into her mouth, swallowing it nearly whole. Happiness flooded her at the thought of the marching and drilling finally ending.
Every day at the break of dawn, the camp was awoken by the drummer boy on the marching snare drum; Gilbert would wait in the field outside the camp, sitting on a fallen, rotted log, picking the dirt from under his nails with a hunting knife. The camp had five minutes to rouse, dress, and run to the field. For every man late was an extra hour of marching. Gilbert would bark orders for hours, drilling the men on each order until Alice didn’t have to think. The minute the order was yelled out, moving into place was automatic and without thought.
Feliciano pouted and forced a few forkfuls of food into his mouth, chewing and swallowing quickly, so as to avoid the taste. Alice speared another potato when the ever-familiar drumming rang out. Sighing, Alice stood and quickly stuffed rest of the food down her throat, and discarded her bowl to her tent before running to the field. Several others were already standing in the field; before them stood Ludwig in pants, a thin shirt and older, worn out boots. Something about his state of dress caused the heavy hand of dread to settle over her.
Finding an empty spot beside Ivan, she came to a halt next to him. Ivan also wore loose, comfortable clothing. Alice frowned and glanced at her own clothes, a well-worn collared shirt buttoned all the way to her neck, save for the top two buttons, pants and boots. Not to mention the thick layers of cloth wrapped around her chest like a vise that kept her true self hidden.
What is going on…? Alice narrowed her eyes at Ivan, suspicion growing like a coiled snake in the pit of her belly when the loud, demanding voice of Ludwig rang out.
“Today you will being your physical conditioning and wilderness training!” Muted groans and sighs came from the group. Ludwig’s pale blue eyes narrowed in response. “In order to have the advantage over the northerners, we must be in top physical condition and have supreme knowledge of the land!”
Alice watched Ludwig explain, down to the smallest detail, exactly what they were doing for the next week. Hiking and traveling through the surrounding woods, tracking for signs of enemy movement, planned and carried out by Ludwig himself, carrying double each man’s weight in supplies and, if necessary, rocks.
“You will do this, every single day, until each and every one of you can track enemy movement and find where I am within the morning. Verstanden?”(3)
Re: Reflection - Chapter 2.4
anonymous
March 14 2010, 07:29:45 UTC
“Ah- fuck… wait-wait…” Alice gasped, stopping in the middle of the run and leaning over, pressing her hands to her knees. “Damnit…”
Ivan slowed to a stop and twisted around, faint annoyance crossing his pale features. “The enemy won’t wait for you to catch your breath.”
“I know!” Alice wheezed, saliva dripping from her lips. “It’s just… you’re so fucking tall…”
With each gasping breath, the cloth wrapped and folded around her cut into her chest, forcing herself to take shallow breaths. Heated, weightless touches surrounded her head and face. Alice clenched her knees and silently ordered herself not to faint from hyperventilating due to her disguise.
Ivan stared at her, his face calm, but his violet eyes story. “Your heavy breathing, clumsy feet, and loud voice would have already alerted the enemy to our presence long ago.”
Prying her hands from her knees, Alice stood straight, sucked in as deep a breath as she could manage, and glared at Ivan. Brilliant blue meeting stormy violet.
He thinks he can get a rise out of me… saying such things… Give me a couple days, and I’ll show him.
++
Note: You guys have no idea how afraid I am of ruining your expectations :( Hopefully that won’t happen?
1) Oikea (Finnish) - Right, Proper, Correct, etc
2) Onesto! Non posso vivere con questo cibo cattivo (Italian) - Honest! I cannot live with this nasty food.
Re: Reflection - Chapter 2.4
anonymous
March 15 2010, 05:48:59 UTC
Being a huge fan of America/Russia, this has been really hard for me to keep it from veering into that direction D: But yes, lets be thankful Arthur isn't the one whose cooking xD
++
“Pinch of sulfer.”
Footsteps pounded into the wooden floorboard, the sound of a clattering glass lid and a pointed, heaving gasp flooded the air.
“…Pinch of sulfer-“
“Check!”
A pause; only the sounds of the boiling water; each heated bubble emitting colored gases, smelling of sweet roses and rotten eggs.
“One cat whisker.”
More footsteps and heavy breathing. Several glass lids clattered together, one hitting the floor with a solid thunk.
“…One…cat whisker-“
“Ch-check!”
The whisker was thrown into the cauldron. There was a hiss, a flash of light, and the boiling water exploded. Screams and yells erupted, and the door to the room was thrown open. Black smoke belched from the doorway, filling the hall and exiting out an open window. Coughing and hacking followed.
“D-damnit… Peter-!” A gasping, wheezing cough interrupted. “I… said cat… whisker! Not… rabbit whisker!”
“I did! I… I grabbed the cat one!” Peter coughed and rubbed his eyes with his arm, smearing the black markings. “Arthur… you must have read it wrong!”
“I didn’t read it wrong!” Arthur ground through clenched teeth. “I wasn’t reading anything! I-”
Peter laughed. “Oh well no wonder! You were doing it from memory!”
Arthur blinked and felt something hot filling his chest. “…Pardon?”
“-because your too old to remember anything, jerk!”
Peter turned and sprinted down the stairs. Arthur chased after him with a sputtering growl, and grabbed the back of his shirt. Peter cried out and flailed his arms.
“Peter, damnit, stop moving-!” Arthur’s foot slipped and the two tumbled down the stairs. “Gah!”
Arthur landed hard on his back with Peter sprawled over him.
“L-let go-!”
Arthur surged to his feet. “This is all your fault! I should send you back to Berwald and Tino and tell them exactly how you’ve been behaving-!“
“No! Don’t send me back, please! I promised I’d make them proud and become a wizard, like you!” Peter gasped and flung his arms around Arthur’s waist. “Don’t send me back. I… I’ll disappoint them.”
Arthur glared at the boy and gently pried his arms away. “…if you won’t want to be sent back home, then start paying attention. And if I haven’t told you a thousand times, you must memorize the exact order of ingredient jars! Honestly-“
A knock echoed in the hall. Arthur turned from Peter, and found someone standing beyond the front entrance to his home, the figure casting a shadow on the stained glass set in the double doors. “Go prepare some tea for our guest while I get that.”
Peter frowned, wrinkling his nose, but nodded and rushed to the kitchen. “And remember the milk!” Arthur sighed, ignoring the boy’s loud, pointed groan, moved down the hall and opened the door in one fluid move. “Ah- Tino! Peter and I were just talking about you.”
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Arthur moved aside, allowing Peter’s guardian to walk in and shut the door behind him. “…About the same. Have you come to check in on his progress?”
“That… and the war. Have you heard?”
Arthur took Tino’s coat from him and hung it on the peg in the entryway. “Yes… the north took Vertfield. To think they have already come that far inland…” The two walked down the hall, Arthur leading him to the sitting room. “I’m actually glad you have come. I haven’t told Peter yet but… I’ve received a draft summons.”
Tino found an empty seat in one of the plush, red velvet chairs. “I was wondering when they would start targeting wizards. In fact-“
Peter stormed into the room, setting the teapot on the table, along with two cups and saucers. “Tino~!” The boy threw his arms around the older man. “It’s been forever since you last came!”
“It’s only been two weeks,” Arthur corrected; he leaned forward from his seat opposite of Tino and poured the tea, immediately noticing various missing objects. “Peter, the milk-”
The boy heaved a sigh, extracted his arms from around Tino’s neck and ran back to the kitchen.
“-And the scones!” Arthur shook his head in dismay. “The boy would forget his own head if it weren’t already attached.”
Tino chuckled softly. “Yes, he’s always been that way.” The chuckling died away, his face turning more serious. “Arthur… about the summons-”
“-There’s nothing to worry about. I won’t take him with-“
“-I want him to go with you.”
Arthur paused, cold surprise striking him. “…Come again?”
“I think it would be… very good for him to continue his apprenticeship with you during the war.”
“But…” Arthur set the delicate cups upon their respective saucers. “Tino… I… are you sure? He’s just a boy, I don’t think-“
“It will be good for him to see the world. I have faith in your ability to keep him from harm.”
“I-…” Arthur swallowed. “Well… if you insist.”
“What?” Peter came into the room once again, carrying a glass of milk and a plate full of half-burnt scones. “We’re… going to war?”
Tino stared at his adoptive son, hands clasped together in his lap. “And you’re to go with Arthur.”
“But- but what about Berwald-“
“-Berwald agrees with me, Peter.”
Arthur remained silent, choosing to take the milk and scones away from the boy before they ended up on the floor, and placed them on the table. Immediately, he prepared the tea, stirring the milk in each cup thoroughly.
Peter frowned. “…Did… did I do something wrong?”
“No, no. Of course not,” Tino reassured. “But we feel that it would be for the best. Not as a punishment, but as a… learning experience. Oikea?”(1)
Arthur took a slow mouthful of tea, savoring the taste before swallowing. “We will be with the infantry up in the northern forests. You will be able to meet many new people and see new places.”
That brought a smile to Peter’s face.
“Well… alright.”
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Three Weeks After Arriving
“Ludwig is only looking out for you. I doubt he’d want you eating really rich food right before training...”
Alice held her metal bowl out at the mess personnel working the kitchens. The man spooned a watery mixture of beef, more fat than lean meat, and potatoes into the bowl.
“Onesto! Non posso vivere con questo cibo cattivo~…” (2)
Alice left the crowed mess tent, disliking sitting within a large group of men in fear of being caught, and found an empty grassy spot. “English, Feliciano.”
Feliciano stared at the soupy mess in his bowl and whimpered. “This food has no taste… I…I wish he would let me make pasta...”
Alice watched Feliciano take a seat beside her and speared a potato with her fork. Three weeks had come and gone since she first arrived, and still no one knew her secret. Smiling, she bit the potato off the fork, chewed and swallowed quickly, feeling proud of herself for keeping her secret hidden for so long. Granted, she had to sneak cold sponge baths at night and wake up before Ivan to readjust her breast-bindings, but in her mind, she felt it was worth it if her brother would remain safe.
“Well… look on the bright side. At least Gilbert isn’t drilling us anymore.”
Feliciano only moaned and stared at the watery, soupy mess on his plate with a defeated frown.
Alice stuffed a piece of fatty meat into her mouth, swallowing it nearly whole. Happiness flooded her at the thought of the marching and drilling finally ending.
Every day at the break of dawn, the camp was awoken by the drummer boy on the marching snare drum; Gilbert would wait in the field outside the camp, sitting on a fallen, rotted log, picking the dirt from under his nails with a hunting knife. The camp had five minutes to rouse, dress, and run to the field. For every man late was an extra hour of marching. Gilbert would bark orders for hours, drilling the men on each order until Alice didn’t have to think. The minute the order was yelled out, moving into place was automatic and without thought.
Feliciano pouted and forced a few forkfuls of food into his mouth, chewing and swallowing quickly, so as to avoid the taste. Alice speared another potato when the ever-familiar drumming rang out. Sighing, Alice stood and quickly stuffed rest of the food down her throat, and discarded her bowl to her tent before running to the field. Several others were already standing in the field; before them stood Ludwig in pants, a thin shirt and older, worn out boots. Something about his state of dress caused the heavy hand of dread to settle over her.
Finding an empty spot beside Ivan, she came to a halt next to him. Ivan also wore loose, comfortable clothing. Alice frowned and glanced at her own clothes, a well-worn collared shirt buttoned all the way to her neck, save for the top two buttons, pants and boots. Not to mention the thick layers of cloth wrapped around her chest like a vise that kept her true self hidden.
What is going on…? Alice narrowed her eyes at Ivan, suspicion growing like a coiled snake in the pit of her belly when the loud, demanding voice of Ludwig rang out.
“Today you will being your physical conditioning and wilderness training!” Muted groans and sighs came from the group. Ludwig’s pale blue eyes narrowed in response. “In order to have the advantage over the northerners, we must be in top physical condition and have supreme knowledge of the land!”
Alice watched Ludwig explain, down to the smallest detail, exactly what they were doing for the next week. Hiking and traveling through the surrounding woods, tracking for signs of enemy movement, planned and carried out by Ludwig himself, carrying double each man’s weight in supplies and, if necessary, rocks.
“You will do this, every single day, until each and every one of you can track enemy movement and find where I am within the morning. Verstanden?”(3)
Hundreds of voices answered back mutedly.
“Understood.”
++
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Ivan slowed to a stop and twisted around, faint annoyance crossing his pale features. “The enemy won’t wait for you to catch your breath.”
“I know!” Alice wheezed, saliva dripping from her lips. “It’s just… you’re so fucking tall…”
With each gasping breath, the cloth wrapped and folded around her cut into her chest, forcing herself to take shallow breaths. Heated, weightless touches surrounded her head and face. Alice clenched her knees and silently ordered herself not to faint from hyperventilating due to her disguise.
Ivan stared at her, his face calm, but his violet eyes story. “Your heavy breathing, clumsy feet, and loud voice would have already alerted the enemy to our presence long ago.”
Prying her hands from her knees, Alice stood straight, sucked in as deep a breath as she could manage, and glared at Ivan. Brilliant blue meeting stormy violet.
He thinks he can get a rise out of me… saying such things… Give me a couple days, and I’ll show him.
++
Note: You guys have no idea how afraid I am of ruining your expectations :( Hopefully that won’t happen?
1) Oikea (Finnish) - Right, Proper, Correct, etc
2) Onesto! Non posso vivere con questo cibo cattivo (Italian) - Honest! I cannot live with this nasty food.
3) Verstanden (German) - Understood
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Poor Alice...breastbinding is so bad for intense physical activity.
But Ivan <3<3<3<3<3
Oh, Feli, at least Arthur's not the one cooking for everyone XD You might not actually survive that.
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can't wait for more! ♥
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