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Title: Baiting
Author: alyse
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Rating: PG
Characters: Michael, Richard
Word Count: 730
Disclaimer: Original source and characters belong to Terry Goodkind and Disney/ABC. This is a not for profit fanfiction, written for sheer love of the show.
Author's Notes: Written for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
legendland marathon challenge, using the prompt 'siblings/childhood'.
Summary: Sometimes the words sit on the end of Michael's tongue.
-o-
Sometimes the words sit on the end of Michael's tongue, only held back by the promise he made to his father and the knowledge that his father would be very, very angry with him if he let them spill forth. But it's hard when Richard can be such a brat, following Michael around all of the time like a lost little puppy dog, his small legs struggling to keep up with Michael's longer ones as he chatters away to himself, a never ending stream of nonsense. It's embarrassing to have Richard as his shadow when he meets his friends to hunt and to fish in the stream. It's annoying to have to watch out for Richard instead of just having fun.
"Go home, Richard," Michael says, not for the first time, but Richard's mouth sets into a stubborn line, a little crease forming in his smooth forehead. "You shouldn't be here. You're too small."
"Am not," Richard insists, small fists rising in frustration.
"Are too."
"Yeah," Joseph jeers, elbowing Samuel and smirking. "You're just a baby."
It's the worst insult possible to a six-year-old, and Richard's lip quivers for a moment before it juts back out again, firm and furious. "Am not. I hunt better than you do."
There's some truth in that, and maybe that's why Joseph loses his temper, shoving at Richard so hard that he falls over.
Richard's eyes well up as he pushes himself back to his feet. His knee is scraped and small beads of blood are already forming in the graze on his elbow, but he doesn't back down and he doesn't start bawling the way he did when he really was still a baby. Instead his fists rise to the ready again, in spite of the fact that Joseph is twice his size and will do worse than just push Richard if Michael doesn't stop him.
Michael stops him. He's not sure who's more surprised by that – Joseph or him. Joseph is bigger than he is and better at fighting – by the time he puts Michael on the ground, Michael's nose is bleeding and the only injury Joseph has is the tear in his shirt.
"You leave my brother alone!" Richard yells, pummelling at Joseph with his small, ineffective fists. Joseph reaches out to swat him away again but this time Richard is ready for him, sinking his teeth into Joseph's arm, deeper and deeper until the other boy howls, shaking him off, harder and harder until Richard finally flies free to land in the moss beside Michael. When Joseph follows, his face red and his teeth bared, Michael scrambles to his feet and places himself between them, even though his heart is beating hard and fast and he's shaking with it.
"You leave my brother alone," he echoes, his voice low and fierce, and Joseph pauses, looking between them uncertainly for a moment before he backs away, dismissing them with a furious flick of his hand.
Samuel follows on him, hard on his heels, and at least Michael has a shadow worth something. Joseph may not speak to him for days, but that's his problem, Michael thinks contemptuously as he reaches down to haul Richard to his feet.
"You showed him!" Richard beams, his small face shining, and Michael suddenly feels ten feet tall in spite of the pain in his nose and the wound to his pride. He reaches out and ruffles Richard's hair, ignoring his brother's grumble of complaint as he smooths it back down.
"You showed him, too, half-pint," he says and ignores Richard's hot and furious look at the nickname, one that melts away into a delighted smile when Michael adds, "Let's go fishing, okay?"
There's a pond not far into the woods, close enough to home that his father won't object to Richard coming with him, and the day is young, yet. Richard can dig worms for them both, since he likes doing that, and maybe he'll even teach Richard how to fish. He's looking forward to fishing so much that he's feeling magnanimous enough not to object when Richard reaches out to grab hold of his hand, chattering away merrily about the fish they'll catch and won't Father be pleased?
Sometimes the words sit on the end of Michael's tongue. But sometimes it's worth having a brother, even a younger one. For bait digging if nothing else.
Author: alyse
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Rating: PG
Characters: Michael, Richard
Word Count: 730
Disclaimer: Original source and characters belong to Terry Goodkind and Disney/ABC. This is a not for profit fanfiction, written for sheer love of the show.
Author's Notes: Written for the
legendland marathon challenge, using the prompt 'siblings/childhood'. Summary: Sometimes the words sit on the end of Michael's tongue.
-o-
Sometimes the words sit on the end of Michael's tongue, only held back by the promise he made to his father and the knowledge that his father would be very, very angry with him if he let them spill forth. But it's hard when Richard can be such a brat, following Michael around all of the time like a lost little puppy dog, his small legs struggling to keep up with Michael's longer ones as he chatters away to himself, a never ending stream of nonsense. It's embarrassing to have Richard as his shadow when he meets his friends to hunt and to fish in the stream. It's annoying to have to watch out for Richard instead of just having fun.
"Go home, Richard," Michael says, not for the first time, but Richard's mouth sets into a stubborn line, a little crease forming in his smooth forehead. "You shouldn't be here. You're too small."
"Am not," Richard insists, small fists rising in frustration.
"Are too."
"Yeah," Joseph jeers, elbowing Samuel and smirking. "You're just a baby."
It's the worst insult possible to a six-year-old, and Richard's lip quivers for a moment before it juts back out again, firm and furious. "Am not. I hunt better than you do."
There's some truth in that, and maybe that's why Joseph loses his temper, shoving at Richard so hard that he falls over.
Richard's eyes well up as he pushes himself back to his feet. His knee is scraped and small beads of blood are already forming in the graze on his elbow, but he doesn't back down and he doesn't start bawling the way he did when he really was still a baby. Instead his fists rise to the ready again, in spite of the fact that Joseph is twice his size and will do worse than just push Richard if Michael doesn't stop him.
Michael stops him. He's not sure who's more surprised by that – Joseph or him. Joseph is bigger than he is and better at fighting – by the time he puts Michael on the ground, Michael's nose is bleeding and the only injury Joseph has is the tear in his shirt.
"You leave my brother alone!" Richard yells, pummelling at Joseph with his small, ineffective fists. Joseph reaches out to swat him away again but this time Richard is ready for him, sinking his teeth into Joseph's arm, deeper and deeper until the other boy howls, shaking him off, harder and harder until Richard finally flies free to land in the moss beside Michael. When Joseph follows, his face red and his teeth bared, Michael scrambles to his feet and places himself between them, even though his heart is beating hard and fast and he's shaking with it.
"You leave my brother alone," he echoes, his voice low and fierce, and Joseph pauses, looking between them uncertainly for a moment before he backs away, dismissing them with a furious flick of his hand.
Samuel follows on him, hard on his heels, and at least Michael has a shadow worth something. Joseph may not speak to him for days, but that's his problem, Michael thinks contemptuously as he reaches down to haul Richard to his feet.
"You showed him!" Richard beams, his small face shining, and Michael suddenly feels ten feet tall in spite of the pain in his nose and the wound to his pride. He reaches out and ruffles Richard's hair, ignoring his brother's grumble of complaint as he smooths it back down.
"You showed him, too, half-pint," he says and ignores Richard's hot and furious look at the nickname, one that melts away into a delighted smile when Michael adds, "Let's go fishing, okay?"
There's a pond not far into the woods, close enough to home that his father won't object to Richard coming with him, and the day is young, yet. Richard can dig worms for them both, since he likes doing that, and maybe he'll even teach Richard how to fish. He's looking forward to fishing so much that he's feeling magnanimous enough not to object when Richard reaches out to grab hold of his hand, chattering away merrily about the fish they'll catch and won't Father be pleased?
Sometimes the words sit on the end of Michael's tongue. But sometimes it's worth having a brother, even a younger one. For bait digging if nothing else.