Please excuse my poor attempt to write an eleven-year-old. **
“NOOOOO!!”
Matthew sobbed and screamed, throwing himself against the invisible wall that trapped him on the bed. “Bear!” Out of all of his brothers, Berwald was the one he was the closest to, and to know that he was hurt because of Matthew, to know that all of his brothers were writhing on the floor because they had tried to rescue him, made Matthew want to curl up into a little ball and hide.
But they had fought for him, had tried to save him, and he could do no less.
“Stop it!” Matthew shrieked until his throat was hoarse, hating himself for their pain. “Stop it! Please, Father!”
And then Father's laughter stopped, his dark gaze fixed on Matthew for a moment, and Matthew couldn't speak as terror filled his soul.
“I'm doing this for you, my love.”
“No!” His brothers were being tortured because of him. “No, please!”
Because Father wanted him.
“A-Arthur,” Matthew pleaded, drawing upon all of the stories Soren and Berwald liked to tell about the bright Queen – a man who would not have let his sons die like this. His skin crawled at the light in Father's eyes, but he forced himself to continue. If Father would not stop for his son, he might listen to his husband. “Please, Arthur, l-love. They're mine.”
“They tried to keep us apart, dearest.” The look Father gave him was pained, almost hurt. “I can't let them live to try it again.”
“I know.” They had tried to save him. He could only do the same. Putting on his most innocent face, Matthew pressed his hand to the barrier. “But they're still mine. Please don't hurt them, please, please.... ” Tears flowed freely down Matthew's cheeks, hoping Father would believe him. “I- I'll stay, F- Arthur. I won't let them take me again, just don't hurt them!”
“You always were too kind,” Father mused, his gaze growing soft. “Very well.”
A flick of Father's wrist and the screaming stopped, but only for a moment.
When it started up again, it was accompanied by the sight of his brother's bodies shrinking contorting, shrinking and twisting, sprouting bloody feathers from their skin.
They were being changed.
“Arthur!”
“It's for the best, love,” Father smiled as though to reassure Matthew. “I will not risk losing you again.”
Trembling and rubbing at the raw skin where his wrists had been torn by the bonds, Matthew could only watch through teary eyes.
This was because of him.
Emil – the youngest and smallest save for Matthew – was the first to complete the change, lying still beneath his clothes in a puddle of blood and bits of feather. Father reached out, lifting the limp form of a young, silver swan into the air. He held it carelessly in one hand to examine it, oblivious to Matthew's distress, when something caught his attention.
“What are you doing here?” Father sounded more curious than annoyed, looking into the air as though he could see something Matthew couldn't, Emil's limp body forgotten in his hands.
Lukas' voice echoed in the air, Come to my aid. Protect us. Protect my brothers.
“That brat had a contract!?” Matthew might have laughed at his father's outraged expression, except that Emil was in danger, Father's anger prompting him to forget his promise and throw the small body at the wall with all his might.
Wincing in expectation of the death of his brother, Matthew sagged against the barrier, relief stealing away his strength as the swan slowed and slid into what seemed like cradled arms, nothing more than glimmers of shadow and light in the air. One by one, his brothers were lifted into the air, held gently in unseen arms before vanishing into nothingness.
They would be safe.
Something pounded against the barrier around Matthew, one of the invisible saviors Lukas had called, unable to reach him. Father sent a wave of something that had the Being screaming, retreating from the barrier.
“STAY AWAY FROM HIM!” Father shrieked, his face red and his expression twisted with greed and anger.
“Keep them safe.” Matthew pressed against the rippling barrier, whispering his sacrifice. “Don't let them come back for me.”
He fought back selfish tears of pain and fright, still able to taste Father's clammy lips against his, still feeling the rough hands that had touched him in places no one was allowed to touch him.
Father was all wrong, and Matthew could only imagine how bad it would be without his brothers there to stop him.
But this was all his fault.
“Tell them I love them.”
It was always his fault.
And then the bed was wrenched off the floor, sending Matthew tumbling against the barrier.
“NO!” Father screamed, banishing the barrier and pulling Matthew to him with a surge of magic. “He's mine! You can't have him!!”
It wasn't Father's arms that caught him. Instead, Matthew found himself plucked from the air and enveloped in strong arms, unnaturally large and hairy to the touch, but generating a protective warmth that had him curling into the sensation.
“Why-” Why hadn't the strange beings left him behind? Why had they faced Father's magic for him? Why did they seem to think he was worth protecting?
PROTECT MY BROTHERS!
The familiar voice echoed in Matthew's ears, bringing tears to his eyes as the world spun around him.
Lukas had saved him.
**
Matthew was set down on cold dirt in a darkened cave, surrounded by six unconscious swans in, their feathers skewed and bloody. Two of the swans were huge, apparently full-grown. Three of them were smaller, roughly the same size as Matthew's torso, and the smallest silver one – Emil, Matthew reminded himself – was hardly bigger than his head.
His brothers.
Wiping away his tears, Matthew shivered, looking up at the closest shimmer in the air. “Thank you.” As Matthew bowed his head in gratitude, the shimmer moved closer, the feeling of a large, strangely shaped hand patting the top of his head gently. Images appeared in Matthew's mind as the Being touched him.
Safe here. It seemed to say, filling his head with a warm reassurance. Safe now.
And then it was gone.
Matthew swiveled around, hoping to catch sight of another Being, another shimmer. But they were either completely gone, or hiding more thoroughly than before, and Matthew quickly gave up the search.
He didn't want to be alone – already Father's insane eyes were beginning to stare at him from the back of his mind, laughing and touching and- Matthew cut the thought off before he lost himself completely, trembling and swallowing down the bile that rose up in his throat.
He couldn't think about it.
He had to be strong, like Berwald, and just keep moving.
He needed to do something, to keep himself too busy to think.
Gently, like lifting the most delicate of ornaments, Matthew lifted the smallest swan – silver-feathered Emil – into his arms, not caring that the blood smeared against his skin. The quick beat of the swan's heart against his hands was reassuring, and with careful, shaking fingers, Matthew began to card through the horribly mussed feathers. There was very little he could do about the blood, he had no cloth to wipe it away nor any water to wash it off, but he could make his swan-brothers as comfortable as possible.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered as he finished with Emil's grooming, laying the unconscious swan beside him to rest. “I'm so sorry.”
Never before had he wished so strongly to have never been born. Without him, Dad – a man he knew only through stories – would have lived, Father would not have gone insane, and his brothers would not have been tortured and turned into swans.
Scrubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand, Matthew tried to ignore his self-loathing, the tiny voice in the back of his head scolding him in Berwald's deep, clipped words. Not yer fault, Matt. Ya didn't ask t' be born.
All of his brothers had told him those words in various forms so many times, but Matthew couldn't bring himself to believe them.
Especially not now.
But, though the blame did lie with him, blame would do nothing for his brothers, so Matthew forced himself to keep working, to do all he could for them. To keep his thoughts off of everything but helping his brothers.
Moving on to the large swan with bright, sunshine yellow feathers – undeniably Soren – Matthew wasn't strong enough to lift the heavy bird, instead kneeling beside it as he began picking his fingers carefully through the tangled feathers, trying not to cry as his fingers brushed a deep gash over Soren's eyes.
Next was one of the medium-sized swans, with sandy-yellow feathers and only a few black marks on its wings. Matthew knew it was one of the twins, as it was nearly identical to another of the three medium swans, but he couldn't tell which one. But Matthew groomed both of them, wiping away as much of the blood as he could with his hands in an effort to find some difference.
There was none as far as he could tell.
When he finally gave up, he moved on to Lukas – for there was no one else the pale bird could be – pressing a gentle kiss to the dark beak before he began to run his fingers through his feathers. Lukas had saved him, had saved them all from Father's anger.
“Thank you,” Matthew breathed into the air. “Thank you, Lukas.”
Beneath his fingers, Lukas stirred, wings fluttering and beak clacking. Matthew pulled away, suddenly aware that he didn't know whether his brothers' minds had been transformed as well.
Would Lukas still know him?
The sharp beak and dagger-like claws that had seemed no more dangerous than Berwald's stern face made Matthew wary as he watched the bird shake out its feathers and struggle awkwardly to its feet, head darting back and forth to take in their surroundings.
Did he remember Father changing him?
And then it looked up, and dark eyes, round like small, black marbles met Matthew's gaze. They seemed empty, as the bird continued to stare at Matthew, but there was no way of knowing how much of that was the swan and how much was just Lukas being Lukas.
“Please.” He needed it to be Lukas more than he could fully comprehend.
Behind them, he could hear the honking and rustling as more of his brothers woke, but Matthew couldn't bring himself to look away, his heart beginning to crack more and more with each moment that Lukas didn't show some sign of the human he had been, even as he moved closer on unsteady legs.
Closer and closer, as Matthew tried not to tremble in fear, his eyes squeezing shut. He did not want to see the swan that had been Lukas as it lashed out.
The brush of a cool, smooth beak touched his cheek, light and quick, and Matthew's eyes flew open to catch a glimmer of worry in small black eyes. He lunged forward, wrapping his arms around the bird – around Lukas! - and weeping with relief.
Lukas-swan wrapped his neck over Matthew's shoulder, and for a moment everything was okay.
His brothers were not gone, merely changed.
Matthew wasn't alone.
The other swans were crowding them, brushing Matthew with wing-tips and beaks, and one by one Matthew hugged them, joyful tears still rolling down his cheeks. He wasn't alone. He was safe.
Only when they had all calmed down did Matthew realize that two of his brothers had not joined in the swan-and-boy pile. Berwald had not moved at all, still laying on the ground, with Soren standing over him and honking as he looked to Matthew for help that a swan couldn't give.
“Bear?” Matthew jumped to his feet to cross the short distance faster, falling to his knees at Berwald's side without thought. All of his attention was fixed on the large swan, and as he bent over his dearest brother, Matthew saw the large burnt-black patch of feathers along his back and the crooked tilt of one long wing.
His fingers hovered over the black feathers, his arms aching where Berwald had held him so tight, so safe, against the torrent of Father's magic.
Berwald had come for him.
Father had hurt him, and he had been so afraid. Matthew had been so scared, but Berwald had heard his cries and swept him into his arms, tearing away the knot that had bound his wrists so tight, and protecting him from Father's rage.
Berwald had been hurt because of him.
And there was nothing Matthew could do for him. Not when Matthew had no water to clean the wounds, no cloth to bandage them, and no stick to set his broken wing.
So Matthew cradled Berwald's long neck in his lap, recalling the words that Berwald had sung in his rough voice whenever Matthew woke from a nightmare, and he sang, tears flowing down his cheeks as he wished so desperately that Berwald would wake up.
Closing his eyes as he lost himself in the gentle tune, Matthew didn't notice the light that began to emanate from his hands.
** I'm having so much fun with this story!
LovelyAnon: Thank you! I'm not much for action, so I'm glad I managed to get that scene right. I've never been one for replying to Anons with numbers. Even if I have to pull a name out of my hat. XD
OP: I am so glad you're enjoying this! Don't worry about me worrying – at this point in time, I have literally nothing to do but write and I love writing. I'm out of school for the first time in years, and I won't have anything to do until I get called in for work and school starts again – in at least two more weeks. :D Though, update speed may slow down after that if I don't get any further ahead by then.
Aww, Matthew! So quick-thinking and brave. I'm so glad Norway's magical friends were able to save him (and their loyalty to Norway was so touching -- pushing through that barrier to save his brother!)
Oh no, Berwald! And they're all...but at least they escaped, which is still better than where they were, even with the shapechanging.
Awww, my heart feels for poor Matthew. And Berwald as well D': But they're safe for now, so that's good, right? I have the feeling Mattie's going to be forced to grow up very fast, considering all of the things that happened ;; Keep up the good work! ^^
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The Power in Silence - Part 3a/?
(Anonymous) 2013-06-06 01:39 am (UTC)(link)**
“NOOOOO!!”
Matthew sobbed and screamed, throwing himself against the invisible wall that trapped him on the bed. “Bear!” Out of all of his brothers, Berwald was the one he was the closest to, and to know that he was hurt because of Matthew, to know that all of his brothers were writhing on the floor because they had tried to rescue him, made Matthew want to curl up into a little ball and hide.
But they had fought for him, had tried to save him, and he could do no less.
“Stop it!” Matthew shrieked until his throat was hoarse, hating himself for their pain. “Stop it! Please, Father!”
And then Father's laughter stopped, his dark gaze fixed on Matthew for a moment, and Matthew couldn't speak as terror filled his soul.
“I'm doing this for you, my love.”
“No!” His brothers were being tortured because of him. “No, please!”
Because Father wanted him.
“A-Arthur,” Matthew pleaded, drawing upon all of the stories Soren and Berwald liked to tell about the bright Queen – a man who would not have let his sons die like this. His skin crawled at the light in Father's eyes, but he forced himself to continue. If Father would not stop for his son, he might listen to his husband. “Please, Arthur, l-love. They're mine.”
“They tried to keep us apart, dearest.” The look Father gave him was pained, almost hurt. “I can't let them live to try it again.”
“I know.” They had tried to save him. He could only do the same. Putting on his most innocent face, Matthew pressed his hand to the barrier. “But they're still mine. Please don't hurt them, please, please.... ” Tears flowed freely down Matthew's cheeks, hoping Father would believe him. “I- I'll stay, F- Arthur. I won't let them take me again, just don't hurt them!”
“You always were too kind,” Father mused, his gaze growing soft. “Very well.”
A flick of Father's wrist and the screaming stopped, but only for a moment.
When it started up again, it was accompanied by the sight of his brother's bodies shrinking contorting, shrinking and twisting, sprouting bloody feathers from their skin.
They were being changed.
“Arthur!”
“It's for the best, love,” Father smiled as though to reassure Matthew. “I will not risk losing you again.”
Trembling and rubbing at the raw skin where his wrists had been torn by the bonds, Matthew could only watch through teary eyes.
This was because of him.
Emil – the youngest and smallest save for Matthew – was the first to complete the change, lying still beneath his clothes in a puddle of blood and bits of feather. Father reached out, lifting the limp form of a young, silver swan into the air. He held it carelessly in one hand to examine it, oblivious to Matthew's distress, when something caught his attention.
“What are you doing here?” Father sounded more curious than annoyed, looking into the air as though he could see something Matthew couldn't, Emil's limp body forgotten in his hands.
Lukas' voice echoed in the air, Come to my aid. Protect us. Protect my brothers.
“That brat had a contract!?” Matthew might have laughed at his father's outraged expression, except that Emil was in danger, Father's anger prompting him to forget his promise and throw the small body at the wall with all his might.
Wincing in expectation of the death of his brother, Matthew sagged against the barrier, relief stealing away his strength as the swan slowed and slid into what seemed like cradled arms, nothing more than glimmers of shadow and light in the air. One by one, his brothers were lifted into the air, held gently in unseen arms before vanishing into nothingness.
They would be safe.
Something pounded against the barrier around Matthew, one of the invisible saviors Lukas had called, unable to reach him. Father sent a wave of something that had the Being screaming, retreating from the barrier.
The Power in Silence - Part 3b/?
(Anonymous) 2013-06-06 01:41 am (UTC)(link)“Keep them safe.” Matthew pressed against the rippling barrier, whispering his sacrifice. “Don't let them come back for me.”
He fought back selfish tears of pain and fright, still able to taste Father's clammy lips against his, still feeling the rough hands that had touched him in places no one was allowed to touch him.
Father was all wrong, and Matthew could only imagine how bad it would be without his brothers there to stop him.
But this was all his fault.
“Tell them I love them.”
It was always his fault.
And then the bed was wrenched off the floor, sending Matthew tumbling against the barrier.
“NO!” Father screamed, banishing the barrier and pulling Matthew to him with a surge of magic. “He's mine! You can't have him!!”
It wasn't Father's arms that caught him. Instead, Matthew found himself plucked from the air and enveloped in strong arms, unnaturally large and hairy to the touch, but generating a protective warmth that had him curling into the sensation.
“Why-” Why hadn't the strange beings left him behind? Why had they faced Father's magic for him? Why did they seem to think he was worth protecting?
PROTECT MY BROTHERS!
The familiar voice echoed in Matthew's ears, bringing tears to his eyes as the world spun around him.
Lukas had saved him.
**
Matthew was set down on cold dirt in a darkened cave, surrounded by six unconscious swans in, their feathers skewed and bloody. Two of the swans were huge, apparently full-grown. Three of them were smaller, roughly the same size as Matthew's torso, and the smallest silver one – Emil, Matthew reminded himself – was hardly bigger than his head.
His brothers.
Wiping away his tears, Matthew shivered, looking up at the closest shimmer in the air. “Thank you.” As Matthew bowed his head in gratitude, the shimmer moved closer, the feeling of a large, strangely shaped hand patting the top of his head gently. Images appeared in Matthew's mind as the Being touched him.
Safe here. It seemed to say, filling his head with a warm reassurance. Safe now.
And then it was gone.
Matthew swiveled around, hoping to catch sight of another Being, another shimmer. But they were either completely gone, or hiding more thoroughly than before, and Matthew quickly gave up the search.
He didn't want to be alone – already Father's insane eyes were beginning to stare at him from the back of his mind, laughing and touching and- Matthew cut the thought off before he lost himself completely, trembling and swallowing down the bile that rose up in his throat.
He couldn't think about it.
He had to be strong, like Berwald, and just keep moving.
He needed to do something, to keep himself too busy to think.
Gently, like lifting the most delicate of ornaments, Matthew lifted the smallest swan – silver-feathered Emil – into his arms, not caring that the blood smeared against his skin. The quick beat of the swan's heart against his hands was reassuring, and with careful, shaking fingers, Matthew began to card through the horribly mussed feathers. There was very little he could do about the blood, he had no cloth to wipe it away nor any water to wash it off, but he could make his swan-brothers as comfortable as possible.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered as he finished with Emil's grooming, laying the unconscious swan beside him to rest. “I'm so sorry.”
Never before had he wished so strongly to have never been born. Without him, Dad – a man he knew only through stories – would have lived, Father would not have gone insane, and his brothers would not have been tortured and turned into swans.
Scrubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand, Matthew tried to ignore his self-loathing, the tiny voice in the back of his head scolding him in Berwald's deep, clipped words. Not yer fault, Matt. Ya didn't ask t' be born.
The Power in Silence - Part 3c/?
(Anonymous) 2013-06-06 01:42 am (UTC)(link)Especially not now.
But, though the blame did lie with him, blame would do nothing for his brothers, so Matthew forced himself to keep working, to do all he could for them. To keep his thoughts off of everything but helping his brothers.
Moving on to the large swan with bright, sunshine yellow feathers – undeniably Soren – Matthew wasn't strong enough to lift the heavy bird, instead kneeling beside it as he began picking his fingers carefully through the tangled feathers, trying not to cry as his fingers brushed a deep gash over Soren's eyes.
Next was one of the medium-sized swans, with sandy-yellow feathers and only a few black marks on its wings. Matthew knew it was one of the twins, as it was nearly identical to another of the three medium swans, but he couldn't tell which one. But Matthew groomed both of them, wiping away as much of the blood as he could with his hands in an effort to find some difference.
There was none as far as he could tell.
When he finally gave up, he moved on to Lukas – for there was no one else the pale bird could be – pressing a gentle kiss to the dark beak before he began to run his fingers through his feathers. Lukas had saved him, had saved them all from Father's anger.
“Thank you,” Matthew breathed into the air. “Thank you, Lukas.”
Beneath his fingers, Lukas stirred, wings fluttering and beak clacking. Matthew pulled away, suddenly aware that he didn't know whether his brothers' minds had been transformed as well.
Would Lukas still know him?
The sharp beak and dagger-like claws that had seemed no more dangerous than Berwald's stern face made Matthew wary as he watched the bird shake out its feathers and struggle awkwardly to its feet, head darting back and forth to take in their surroundings.
Did he remember Father changing him?
And then it looked up, and dark eyes, round like small, black marbles met Matthew's gaze. They seemed empty, as the bird continued to stare at Matthew, but there was no way of knowing how much of that was the swan and how much was just Lukas being Lukas.
“Please.” He needed it to be Lukas more than he could fully comprehend.
Behind them, he could hear the honking and rustling as more of his brothers woke, but Matthew couldn't bring himself to look away, his heart beginning to crack more and more with each moment that Lukas didn't show some sign of the human he had been, even as he moved closer on unsteady legs.
Closer and closer, as Matthew tried not to tremble in fear, his eyes squeezing shut. He did not want to see the swan that had been Lukas as it lashed out.
The brush of a cool, smooth beak touched his cheek, light and quick, and Matthew's eyes flew open to catch a glimmer of worry in small black eyes. He lunged forward, wrapping his arms around the bird – around Lukas! - and weeping with relief.
Lukas-swan wrapped his neck over Matthew's shoulder, and for a moment everything was okay.
His brothers were not gone, merely changed.
Matthew wasn't alone.
The other swans were crowding them, brushing Matthew with wing-tips and beaks, and one by one Matthew hugged them, joyful tears still rolling down his cheeks. He wasn't alone. He was safe.
The Power in Silence - Part 3d/?
(Anonymous) 2013-06-06 01:44 am (UTC)(link)“Bear?” Matthew jumped to his feet to cross the short distance faster, falling to his knees at Berwald's side without thought. All of his attention was fixed on the large swan, and as he bent over his dearest brother, Matthew saw the large burnt-black patch of feathers along his back and the crooked tilt of one long wing.
His fingers hovered over the black feathers, his arms aching where Berwald had held him so tight, so safe, against the torrent of Father's magic.
Berwald had come for him.
Father had hurt him, and he had been so afraid. Matthew had been so scared, but Berwald had heard his cries and swept him into his arms, tearing away the knot that had bound his wrists so tight, and protecting him from Father's rage.
Berwald had been hurt because of him.
And there was nothing Matthew could do for him. Not when Matthew had no water to clean the wounds, no cloth to bandage them, and no stick to set his broken wing.
So Matthew cradled Berwald's long neck in his lap, recalling the words that Berwald had sung in his rough voice whenever Matthew woke from a nightmare, and he sang, tears flowing down his cheeks as he wished so desperately that Berwald would wake up.
Closing his eyes as he lost himself in the gentle tune, Matthew didn't notice the light that began to emanate from his hands.
**
I'm having so much fun with this story!
LovelyAnon: Thank you! I'm not much for action, so I'm glad I managed to get that scene right.
I've never been one for replying to Anons with numbers. Even if I have to pull a name out of my hat. XD
OP: I am so glad you're enjoying this!
Don't worry about me worrying – at this point in time, I have literally nothing to do but write and I love writing. I'm out of school for the first time in years, and I won't have anything to do until I get called in for work and school starts again – in at least two more weeks. :D Though, update speed may slow down after that if I don't get any further ahead by then.
LA
(Anonymous) 2013-06-06 05:27 pm (UTC)(link)Oh no, Berwald! And they're all...but at least they escaped, which is still better than where they were, even with the shapechanging.
Looking forward to more!
OP
(Anonymous) 2013-06-06 10:34 pm (UTC)(link)But they're safe for now, so that's good, right?
I have the feeling Mattie's going to be forced to grow up very fast, considering all of the things that happened ;;
Keep up the good work! ^^