Singing Stones Pt.2

Chapter 1

Artham shifted to another branch, hoping to keep out of the sun (And view, for he was sure Esben would come annoy him soon). He found one with a decent view of the sky and perfect visibility of the area under him. Artham watched the clouds, wondering whether Nia and Esben had taken care of telling his nephews of his engagement or if they left it for him. Quietly, he mumbled a poem he had written years before with his little brother.

In the sky so warm and blue

A little cloud calls for you

To bring rain or simply shade

To the Maker I have prayed

That you are mine and mine to stay

While in the meadows where we lay

  “Uncle Artham!” Artham looked down at the small boy calling for him. “Uncle Artham, why are you in a tree?” He laughed and climbed down through the thick branches with practiced ease until he was sitting on one of the lowest. He swung around carefully so he was hanging upside down in front of the child speaking to him.

“Well Janner, it’s good practice and it helps me think.” He smiled a gentle smile and reached down for his nephew’s small, soft hands with his own, covered in spots his swords’ handle had rubbed raw over the years.

Janner scrunched up his face, but reached up and held his uncle's firm hands as he was lifted up. “But why in a tree?” He asked, still visibly confused.

“Because I like trees. And,” Artham added, “Es and I used to sit up here for hours. He would pick something for me to write about, and I would find him something to draw.” Janner looked up at the strange man in the tree, though he was sure it was only to make him laugh. He picked his small feet off the ground, and began swinging back and forth in his uncle's arms.

“Birb.” Janner took his eyes off the swaying ground and placed his feet firmly back on it. Glancing up, he noticed Artham watching another tree in the distance. “What are you looking at?” Janner laughed, trying to figure out what his uncle had noticed.

As if noticing the boy holding his hands for the first time, the Throne Warden, still upside down in a tree, looked at him and gasped, letting go quickly.

“Artham! I told you not to!” Both of them looked to the person the new voice belonged to, and saw Nia marching toward them, Leeli held tight in her arms. She pulled her son close and tried to look annoyed at her brother in law as he swayed back and forth above her.

“This is no way for a Throne Warden to be acting! Especially with someone new to protect.” She ruffled Janner’s hair as he tried to step away, only to back into the tree and be lifted into the air by Uncle Artham. Janner burst into giggles as Artham attempted to pull his nephew up in the tree beside him.

“Oh no!” He yelled as Janner fought against him. When both Wardens were back on the ground, Nia handed Leeli to Artham and pulled her son back through the castle doors, but not before pulling a large leaf from Artham’s hair.

Artham held Leeli gently, the same way he had held Janner and Kalmar years before. “Kalmar,” he sang, though he knew his new niece would easily do better once she found her voice. He heard leaves rustle behind him and turned around, expecting to find prince Kalmar trying to sneak up on him. Instead, he saw Esben running, rather slowly, towards a table in the middle of the court.

Suddenly, he noticed something black on his hands, “Esben! Come here.” He looked over at Artham, and shuffled over. Artham smiled, glad that Esben was still able to act like a kid with all of the pressure he was stuck with.

“Show me your hands.” Artham demanded.

“And what if I don’t want to?” Esben asked.

“So you’re admitting to it?”

“I admit to nothing.”

“Then show me your hands, unless you want to sleep in the tree tonight.”

Esben tried to look offended for a Throne Warden threatening a High King, but his brother had clearly forgotten that it was he who pulled them to stay in the woods longer than the sun was out when they were young. He could only try for a moment, for then they both broke down in laughter.

“Wait, no,” Artham corrected when he caught his breath, “Unless . . . un-unless . . . you.” He sighed and glanced up, trying to figure out his threat.

“Or I’m taking your pens, which I may just do anyway.” Esben gasped, holding his hands up, palms forward, in fake shock. Artham grabbed one of them and turned it over to see the back. Esben tried to jerk it back, but his brother’s grip was firm. 

Only half-aware he was still holding Esben’s hand, he shook it in front of his little brother’s face. “Stop drawing on yourself, you’re going to get it on the children. What’s Nia going to think about that?” Esben successfully pulled his hand away from Artham and backed towards the castle.

“Nia! Esben has something he would like to show you!” Artham smiled at his brother as Esben’s hand covered his mouth. Esben stuck his tongue out at Artham, who tried to do it back.

Esben yanked his hand away. “You licked me! How dare-dareth you . . . lick the highest of the . . . kingeth kind!?” Artham was glad when Wendolyn came out a moment later, offering to take Leeli. (Because, Artham assumed, Nia had realized it was not the best idea to leave her daughter with the brothers)

“The highest of the kingeth kind,” Artham mocked, with a gesture of his hand. A cloud passed over the sun, and a small, light drizzle began. Esben took his brother’s wrist and pulled him under the shelter of the tree. Artham immediately stepped away and did two cartwheels back into the rain. He crossed his arms, silently challenging his brother to come get him. Esben sat down against the trunk and watched the Throne Warden get wet.

A few minutes later, Esben gave up and walked mostly dry through the castle gates. Artham sat on the stone table and waited to see if anyone would be told to come collect him. He laid down with his face up to the now pouring rain

He closed his eyes, so all he knew was the sharp stone on his back and the icy rain soaking him through. Along with . . . footsteps? He picked his head up, and saw Arundelle running out to him. She offered her hand, and Artham gladly took it. Pulling him to the middle of the courtyard, she spun around so her gown flared out around her. Unsure what else to do, Artham joined her so they were dancing to some music only they could hear.