Singing Stones

Esben held back a laugh as he walked into his brother’s room, expecting him to be hiding with a book under the covers or trying to escape through his small window from his nephews. He had larger ones, but was determined that only the smallest led to the roof for sure. Instead, Artham was pacing his room, clearly deep in thought. Of course, this was normal for Artham as well, but he murmured to himself quietly and Esben could only make out a few hushed words.

Esben knocked on the open door, and Artham jumped like a bird failing to take flight when he realized his little brother was watching him. “Get, I’m busy.” He went back to his pacing, ignoring leaves blowing in through an open window. Esben leaned on the door frame, smiling as his brother walked straight into the leaves flying around his room without noticing.

“And what exactly are you busy at? Delle’s been waiting for you to come down. Though I would recommend getting the leaves out of your hair first, they look about as strange as a sea dragon in the air.” Artham’s face turned red, and he quickly tried to come up with an answer that sounded realistic.

“...No, not at all. I was…trying to figure out whether..the new Song Maiden looked more like..you! You or Nia, I mean.” He could feel his face heating up, and watched the floor, not needing to try very hard to guess why his little brother had discovered his thoughts. Suddenly, he stumbled back as someone small ran into him, wrapping him in a hug that was supposed to be a tight squeeze. As the attacker was much smaller than Artham, their arms barely reached around him and had little effect on the Throne Warden.

“Noooo!” Artham cried as he fell gently to the floor. He heard Esben laughing from the doorway and laughed along as he wrapped his small attacker in a bear hug.

The attacker’s voice was high-pitched, but Artham thought it perfect for the young boy who now had a sister along with his brother to protect. “I got you Uncle Artham!” He yelled while his words were muffled by the folds of Artham’s clothing. The High King and Throne Warden quickly looked anywhere but each other, trying not to laugh at the boy who got himself trapped in a hug. The awkwardness of the moment before Janner charged in was forgotten, and Artham was glad. He watched the ceiling and the bold light coming through an open curtain.

He sat up, grabbing his nephew quickly before he could slip to the wooden ground. Running his free hand through his black hair, Artham stood up with the boy still in his arms, though now propped on his side. “What about Arundelle?” He looked up where Esben had been only a moment before, but his little brother had moved on, apparently satisfied that his son had disturbed his brother’s thoughts.

“What about Aunt Arun.. Arundelle?” Janner asked when he could, gasping for air after his fit of laughter. Artham smiled. Partially at his nephew, the future Throne Warden of the Shining isle Anniera, and partially at the thought of Arundelle officially being their aunt.

“Not yet she’s not, but hopefully soon.”

The two Throne Wardens, current and future, raced down the hall, the open window forgotten about.

Janner ran into the dining room, but Artham went past to the kitchen. “Can I help with anything?” He asked Nia, who was struggling with plates in one arm and young Song Maiden Leeli in the other

“Actually yes, there’s a few more plates if you don’t mind,” Artham laughed slightly. “I meant with the plates you’re currently holding.” She watched him for a moment and Artham wondered, not for the first time, what his little brother saw in her. If he was ever able to get past the scowls that she constantly threw at her brother in law, he might just barely be able to find it.

“Okay, take these then. I’ll get the smaller pile.” She fumbled slightly as she put the stack of trays on the counter, and Artham watched as she went to fetch the rest. He picked them up and waited for Nia to walk back through before heading out to the dining room after her.

“Then,” He heard Janner telling Nia, “I tack-led Uncle Artham. But he still trap.. trapp-ed… trapped me.”

“Well, I doubt Artham could have knocked Illia down like that when he was three.” Artham smiled when he realized who the gentle voice had come from. He loved her voice, just like he loved her work and everything about her in general. (Though he didn’t really enjoy when he was in her poems)

Placing the plates down carefully in front of every occupied seat, he let his thoughts wander away from the simple task. How? How could someone as clumsy as I find someone like her? He found his answer rather quickly when he ran into a chair.

She turned around just as the drink knocked into the chair back, splashing the front of her green dress with a new brown circle in the center. Artham’s face immediately turned the color of a totato as her laughter filled the tense air. It sounded like the wind, as if her joy had opened the windows and was letting the breeze blow away the tension of the moment.

“Sorry Ru.” Artham could barely hear his own voice but didn’t trust it to be any louder than a mumble. He knew she wasn’t laughing at him, only at the situation, but he couldn’t find the energy to join the happy laughter now floating from person to person.

Arundelle and Nia got up from their seats and went in search of anything to clean up the mess. Artham was vaguely aware of someone pulling him to a seat across the table, but smiled anyway when he realized it was Esben, likely the first left in the room to stop laughing long enough to do anything.

Artham simply watched his hands in his lap until Podo said thanks to the maker. He then ate his meal in a disconnected silence, aware of Arundelle watching him from the other side of the table.

He dismissed himself at the first chance.

Laying on the outer lawn of the yard, he watched the stars through tree leaves. He had been careful to pick a spot as far away from the garden shed as possible, constantly worried Nia would finally decide it was time for revenge and cover him in soil and flowers.

Hearing footsteps nearby, he pushed himself up, expecting to have a half-normal conversation with Arundelle before the garden edge was closed off. He couldn’t even fully stand. About half way to his knees, Esben rammed into him, pinning him on his stomach with his arms behind him.

“Delle! I found him!” Artham held his breath. Mostly in hopes of disappearing into the ground, but also so he wasn’t breathing in dirt. He heard giggles above him, and was sure Nia and Wendolyn had joined the hunt to find the embarrassed Throne Warden. He managed to pick his head up enough to see two pairs of feet standing in front of him.

Artham only had a moment to process this, for Esben yanked him up from the ground aggressive enough to dislocate a shoulder. “Ow, I’d like to keep my arm intact please.” He held back his volume, though it was mostly because he was struggling to breathe normally (As one does when knocked to the ground and jerked back up).

“Hey, Ru.” Artham said to no one in particular. The two in front of him and Esben behind could no longer hold back a full laugh when he spoke to someone who wasn’t there.

“Arundelle went to bed already, I thought you’d be harder to find.” It took him a moment to realize it was Nia who had spoken. “Esben had the ring, you know. If you’re going to surprise someone, you may need a better hiding spot than under a pillow.”

That’s why he came in, Janner was probably part of the plan as well. He realized as the brain-fog from the ground had mostly cleared.

“Why did you take her ring?” Artham was glad his voice could now go back to its normal volume without struggle.

“Well,” Esben said beside his ear, “I technically stole your ring, since you refuse to give it to her.” Suddenly, there was a gasp from somewhere behind the brothers.

“ Artham! What happened!?” Esben, Nia, and Wendolyn suddenly broke away, disappearing into nearby shadows to annoy the Throne Warden again later.

Artham saw something on the ground and quickly picked it up before Arundelle could see it. He turned around, his head bowed to hide scratches from the concrete sprinkled on the dirt. Aware of the people watching, he fiddled slightly with the thing Esben had dropped.

“Arundelle,” He started cautiously. He pulled out what he was holding so it just barely reflected the hint of light around them. Opening his mouth to continue, Artham suddenly looked back for his little brother. So much better was he with these sorts of things.

Esben suddenly burst out of somewhere to the right. “For the sake of sanity! Arundelle,” He took the band from Artham’s fidgety hands, kneeling between them. “Will you and Artham finally just marry each other!?”

Artham buried his face in his hands, unsure whether to laugh, cry, or do something else entirely.

“Yes!” He picked his head up, wondering if he’d heard correctly. Esben shoved him forward, laughing in his brother’s ear.

“She said yes genius, do something better than stand there!” Knocked, rather aggressively, out of his trance, he ran up to her, lifting her into the air and spinning her around as they slowly became aware of the large crowd which had gathered around them.

Esben took one of their hands in each of theirs,lifting them high into the air. “Behold, the Throne Warden has found his match!” Though most of the following sounds were cheers, Artham could also hear much laughing at a joke he seemed to have missed.

When the crowd left, Nia, Wendolyn, and Arundelle had disappeared. Esben had also faded away with the group. Unwilling to be the reason for a joke, he climbed a tree, one with thick branches where even the thinnest ones were wider than most of the others in the court.

He must have fallen asleep at some point, because the next thing he remembered was the early morning light and the feel of bark painful on his back.