#fablehaven au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

plate2 · 2 months

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So! The entire first chapter of this medieval AU is finished and ready (other than not being edited or beta'd or-) if anyone would want to read it. This is my first time posting any of my writing, so I hope it's good? Anyway, I feel it's important to also mention that it's not a mistake, I meant to use the last name Burgess instead of Sorenson here, and there is also cursing in the fic. (Also, if I need to add any warnings or tags please tell me) So uhhh yeah!

Chapter One: Fool Me Once

Torches sputtered and cracked from the draft, open flames waving hello as he slipped by, his cloak flying open behind him. Ruby and topaz stones carefully clinked and collided with one another as they hung from the golden circlet in his hand. The guards he met along the way flinched from his stare and gave him a mile’s wide berth once they saw the circlet. They allowed him to continue, on through locked doors to the deeper caverns of the castle, his footsteps echoing off of the stones placed haphazardly atop one another centuries ago.

As the stairs spiraled downwards, shadows began to rest on his shoulders, pulling at the light of the torches, causing them to waver— shudder—at the weight. Similarly, his mind began to spiral, tugged in directions he hadn’t known existed before now. His heartbeat reverberated in his skull, and it grounded him in such a way that it felt like the very dirt beneath him wished for nothing more than to swallow him whole. Maybe that would be preferable.

A prison such as this would likely inflict a feeling of depression, of hopelessness and horror. It would feel somber, damp with water leaking through the bricks to form stagnant puddles. And yet…

The yells started even before he reached the bottom of the stairs, before the door swung open, clanging shut behind him as he steeled himself, shadows flickering at the edge of the door. No one should have been able to hear them as he did, not from that distance. That simple fact raised a chill through his body, hair standing on edge as he walked towards the cells.

“I’m innocent!”

The yell shuddered through one of the inmate’s throats, the sound ripping through him as he came through the door. He closed his eyes, breathing heavily as he attempted to block out the noise. Other inmates rattled the bars of the cages, hummed old warning songs he knew well, and some even attempted to grab for his clothing, begging him to save them.

He knew well enough who these people were: heretics, murderers, traitors, felons of the highest degrees. He worked alongside those who put these people in chains, and if any of them knew he stood here, knew of the anomalies plaguing him… Perhaps he too would be shoved into one of these cells, left to rot forever. Of course, that stood under the assumption they let him live in the first place.

At the end of the hall, he quickly opened and slammed the door shut. The yells did not cease, twisting their way under and around the door, but fortunately, his focus trained elsewhere. Only one other cell stood in this room—the lowest, deepest place you could possibly go in the castle.

“Hello, Seth Burgess.”

Rags hung off her wiry frame like old drapes, and her knuckles seemed to protrude from her hands as she held onto her elbows. Scabs and pulsing veins ran along her arms, insect bites imprinted on her skin. Her hair laid long, ratted, and white, her eyes bloodshot as she smiled a little wider than humanly possible, a few of her teeth missing. Warts covered her body, and her hands showed the slime that stuck to her skin, the consequence for using magic from the Void.

Muriel, the Witch of the Forest.

“I haven’t seen you in years, boy. You’ve grown. There’s a wariness to you now, a glint in your eyes. What has happened to you since I’ve seen you last?”

Seth’s last visit to her stood in shadows, a vague mess of colors and swirling memory. He had been young, naive, and he wandered down into the same place he stood now. She twirled tales of forbidden magic, of twisting shadows and the creatures that slept within them. She drew pictures in his mind of demons and fairies, of their wars that raged much before his time. The stars, something he often turned a blind eye to, were now something new and bright in his eyes. He understood the moon, the stars, and the planets out in space, the darkness that held them, comforted them. And despite everything, it drew him in.

Enough time spent down there in one, singular, night, led him to learn magic he never should have known. She taught him something that plucked at strings in his heart, echoing a melody that flowed through the background of his life, through his ears and lungs. It kept his feet moving forward, and if he wanted, he could recite it note for note.

As he grew older, the song became tinged with a sour taste. He learned of the Void and how it infected everything it could grasp with a deep unknowing, a mystery hidden from the light. He learned of how it twisted and changed people, whether it gave them an amphibian-like slime, reptile scales, rare birds wings, or anything and everything within the same selection. It stood as something drilled into his mind during his lessons: amphibians, reptiles, birds, amphibians, reptiles, birds. Over and over again people taught him this.

The Source, as an opposition, became the thing people worshiped. It stood for peace, warmth, and the very known force of creation and growth. Mammal, fish, and invertebrate changes were welcomed, gifts given by the Source. People with such eccentricities were held on pedestals, something akin to saints.

And according to Seth’s grandparents, who caught him with Muriel that same night, all of his trust resided in the Source. The Source, his lifeline, kept him from falling farther into the darkness. As long as he continued to hold onto the Source’s rope—no matter if it felt like it seared through his skin, burned his eyes—he would be acceptable. He would be right. He would be fine.

Instead, Seth now heard voices from rooms over, a field’s length away, or through walls. He heard things people intentionally said behind his back, he heard compliments alongside criticisms. He heard when people outright lied to him, their small inflections clipped in their tones. The song lifted his eardrums to a heightened sense, and yet he continued to look towards the stars with burnt hands.

If only he had been better. If he had been better, lies wouldn’t slip off his tongue like truths when he spoke to his grandparents. He would have no reason to keep this visit a secret—or have this visit at all. If he had been better, a hole would not have carved itself into his mind. The remnants of magic he used before would not still taint his mind and thoughts. He would not feel comfort as shadows enveloped him in this very room, and he would not rest ever so slightly when the song settled in his mind.

If he had not made a mistake years ago to come into this very room, he would be able to say he trusted the Source with his very being. He would not give a second thought about the Void, as he did now, standing in front of her.

Seth had to wonder if this would be nothing more than another mistake. Another item to regret on his not-so-organized list that continued to roll far past his feet if he ever unfurled the parchment—if he ever opened the seal.

“You are being especially quiet this time around, aren’t you?” Muriel said, leaning forward and backward against her chains. Held so uncomfortably in the cold iron if only so she would never cast magic again. Her shoulders sagged, bags under her eyes as she stared at him. Her sudden cleansing of magic ability certainly took its toll on her.

“I guess you aren’t quite six anymore, are you?” Muriel laughed quietly to herself. “No more questions I can answer for you? No more questions about the stars?” Seth kept his composure, other than his hand tightening on itself, fingernails digging into his palm. “You do have more questions about the stars? Please, do tell, what more do you wish to know about the unknown levels of the universe?”

“Stop,” Seth whispered, his voice strangely weak. Something stuck in the back of his throat, something echoing a sob. He did want to know. He did want to hear. So badly.

Muriel’s bloodshot eyes widened. “Don’t tell me you’ve become one of them. They do not listen to my answers, nor do they ever ask me questions anymore. Take me back to the old times.”

The old times. Seth almost wants to agree with her.

A fact which, he supposed, indicated many things he didn’t wish to think about.

“How do I get rid of it?” Seth asked, his voice barely audible. “How do I make it leave?” He wished he could make it so he didn’t sound on the verge of tears, but you can only hear so much before you break—before you shatter utterly.

Muriel jangled her chains as she attempted to lean closer. Her eyebrows raised unnaturally high, “Leave what? Get rid of what? My dear boy, you must be more specific than-”

“You know what I’m talking about!” Seth tried to snap at her, he did, but it only came out in such a desperate plea. He began to pace in front of her cell, back and forth, wearing down the stone under his feet. The echoes of the steps resounded like drums in his heart. Loud, disorienting, just like the screams and pleas from the other room-

“Shut up!” Seth yelled. The shadows at the edges of the room inched forward, grabbing his ankles, pulling him, whispering things of hope- “I can- I hear- There’s too much and I don’t know what to do with it.” Seth ran his hands through his hair, gently pulling—as if that would make the voices stop. His voice, no better than a sob, said, “Tell them to stop.” A pause. “Please.”

Muriel’s eyes softened ever so slightly, and Seth had no way of knowing if she pitied or worried about him. “The power of the Void.”

The voices backed away at that, the shadows slipping off of his legs, laying at his feet like broken limbs, unsure of their function afterward. His heart softened as she said it, and the song picked up in his mind, swirling around them as he breathed a little easier. It called out for beginnings and ends, a form of destruction that led to creation: ash that helped flowers bloom. The cycle and the Void were the same.

The shadows at his feet squirmed, and he jumped back, heartbeat in his throat as he tried to clear it. Shadows were not something he could fight—nor were memories. And yet, both of them haunted his every step. “What did you do to me?” Seth asked as his voice wobbled and broke. “Why am I…?”

Seth said nothing more, simply staring at her, waiting. He couldn’t clear the tears from his eyes, but Muriel hadn’t mentioned them yet either. Perhaps she wouldn’t call out his weaknesses. Perhaps she owed him that much.

Muriel hummed, deep, resonating in the small cell. “I’m afraid you’ll have to give me more information than that.”

The floor seemed to fall out from underneath him. “You know!” He paced back to the door, the way he could leave here without any lasting consequences. The tears laid against his eyes, not daring to leave in the presence of someone else. “I shouldn’t have even tried, I should have known you’d never help!” Seth spun on his heel, pacing back to the cage. “You’re no better than them! Do you know that?”

“And why is that?” As quiet and calm as ever.

Seth went to run his hand through his hair once more, but instead, a laugh left through his lungs, shaking his entire being. “You all like to think you’re so different, but you all only look out for yourselves! You know exactly what I’m talking about—you did this to me!”

“I did nothing of the sort.”

Grabbing a hold of one of the bars, Seth watched as she moved back from him. The cold bite of the metal sank into him as he sobbed, falling to the ground, onto the heels of his feet. He felt insane, utterly. Why did he insist on asking her for help? Why couldn’t he ask his family, or even his friends? Why couldn’t he just be normal?

The Source kept the world pure. The Void corrupted.

…And yet.

Muriel tsked at his pathetic form, shaking her head. “Something indeed changed. Something’s taken its toll on you, raked its claws through your mind. You’re not the same boy who came down here all those years ago, are you?” When she said it this time, she spoke solemnly; she spoke a fact of life. Seth couldn't help but agree with her.

“The Void did this to me,” he eventually said. Even before he had finished, Muriel already began to shake her head, sighing. “What?”

“The Void did nothing of the sort. It gave this power to you because of your belief in it. If there are any… mental ramifications, you created those yourself.”

His words were no more than an emphasized sigh. “What?”

“Any constraints you have are because of your own making, or the making of someone who you let get into your mind. Who has gotten under your skin?” Muriel stared at him for a very long moment, tilting her head until it hung almost parallel with the ground. Seth hadn’t made the conscious decision to flinch back until she laughed, much like the caw of a crow. “Your family.”

“No.”

“Yes. They are sole believers in the Source—the light of creation in the world. Your family are the ones who believe the Void will corrupt your soul—if it hasn’t already.”

“It hasn’t-”

“You believe in it, don’t you? You’ve heard the song.”

Seth had not once mentioned the song in front of her.

Muriel continued. “The song floats through your head in the same way the power flows through your veins. With every step you take, you think about the vast darkness that hangs above our heads—the thing the sun obstructs. You can hear too much because the Void wished for you to. It loved you—loves you—and this is what you do in return? You ask me to get rid of it.” She scoffed.

Seth slowly stood, holding his head against the bars. His voice broke as he spoke. “They’ll- If I don’t get rid of this, they’ll kill me, and I won’t be able to do a single thing. If I fight back, they’ll count me as a traitor, and if I don’t, I’ll be killed. The family name will be tarnished, and I’ll be banished or- or executed on sight. They would have to make an example out of me, and they’ll-”

Muriel raised her eyebrow.

“My own family would execute me!” Almost hysterical, the words prying themselves against his will out of his mouth. They laid on the floor for everyone and no one to see, and he wanted nothing more than to light them on fire, watching the smoke rise into space.

“But do you want to rid yourself of the Void?”

No, he didn’t. “Do you not understand? They’ll kill me!”

Chains shuddered, clattered, and hung tense as Muriel rushed forward, reaching out towards the bars as Seth rammed back into the wall of the cell room, his breathing erratic. He felt his vision shudder as he watched one of her shaking, knobbly fingers barely reach out, her nails tinted green and yellow, barely able to reach and brush against the bar. He could hear the most faint sound of nails on a chalkboard. Her wrists were white with the strain from the handcuffs.

Muriel started slowly, slower than he had ever heard her speak. “You have not answered the question. It is an obvious fact they will kill you if they figure out why you’re down here now. It is an obvious fact that the Source and your family’s beliefs have tainted your perception of the power you have been given. I care little about either of these things. Do you want to rid yourself of the Void?”

Seth opened his mouth to say yes, to say anything to refuse what she implied. Of course he wished to get rid of this so-called gift the Void had given him. He hated the Void and what it had done to him. He hated its corruption, temptation, confusion…

“I… love the Source.”

That’s not what she asked.

You know what she asked.

Seth shook his head, holding his hand against his forehead as a headache spiked. Slowly, but quick all the same, the explanation clicked into place in his mind. “You’re trying to trick me.” He let his hand fall back down to his side as he laughed with all the strength remaining in his body. “You’re trying to trick me again, just like all of those years ago—when you did this to me.”

“I did nothing of the sort-”

Seth didn’t listen as he let his feet guide him back to the bars, back to where she tried to intimidate him, where she stood, chains taut. “You’re always trying to trick me, just like them, just like everyone, I…” With some last bit of resolve crumbling, he wrapped his hand around one of the bars, almost letting himself fall against them. He spoke with something akin to a sob—with something not-so-distantly related to anger. “You’re always trying to trick me, but you can’t fool me twice. Please, not twice.”

The chains jangled back to their original place as Muriel backed away, her breathing careful and jagged. Seth didn’t trust her, quite the opposite, but she couldn’t—wouldn’t—hurt him as he stood here. Muriel, well known as a questionable, terrible, utterly irredeemable person by the general public, would never hurt him.

Seth didn’t know why he was so sure.

Muriel, he suspected, did not either.

A long, worn-down sigh emanated from the cell, the sound and curdling smell echoing through the small room. Seth opened his eyes as the old, possibly immortal woman stood with her creaking bones. “Of all people…” She laughed, shaking her head as she fell back to the ground. “Of all people, you chose to come to me with this.”

“Fool me once,” Seth’s hoarse voice choked out.

The cell’s silence held as they stayed on opposite sides of the bars, a tense, angry, and understanding emotion in the air as Seth felt emotion bubble up in his chest and throat.

‘The Void did this to me,’ said with resentment, anger.

‘The Void did this to me,’ said with curiosity, wonder.

The sky hadn’t looked the same since that fateful night. Seth supposed it never would again.

“Am I already tainted?”

The words slipped from his mouth, but he didn’t regret it. He knew what her answer would be, something different than if he were to ask his family—his friends.

“Am I…” he continued, “Am I past the point of no return?”

With gentle, genuine concern—something she hadn’t used often so far in their conversation—Muriel asked, “What do you mean?”

“The Void changes people, taints them with its power. I could be a different person now than I’m supposed to be because of its influence, but I wouldn’t know. What if it’s already taking over my mind? What if the reason I’m…” Seth shook his head, rethinking his words. “What if I’m changing, and I can’t even realize it because it’s gotten so deep into my mind that it makes me think it’s okay?”

Seth’s family always reminded him he had never been all too eloquent with his words.

“You’re afraid you’ve been compromised.”

He needn’t say a word in order for her to know his answer.

“I’m not repulsed by the thought of the Void or by the song. I should be. Everything in history, in my life, all around me tells me so.” Seth looked up from the floor, into her eyes deep with pity. “I should be, but I’m not.”

Muriel sat in her silence for a long moment. “The Void does not change people.”

Seth laughed bitterly. “It does. Everything has always pointed to the fact that it does. Your skin would be free of slime if the Void didn’t change people. I wouldn’t be hearing things from entire rooms away if the Void didn’t change people.”

“Those are the physical changes we know and understand—which I should add, are brought to us by our own use. But, ignoring that, the Void does not change the mentality of its followers. Even if it wished to, it couldn’t.”

Without thinking, Seth said, “But then why are you…”

Muriel smiled and hummed. “I am not like this because of my use of magic. The way I look, the way I am weak without it, the way I think, all of that is of my own doing. I am the only one who can change myself.”

“It could have made you think that. What if you’re different and you don’t even realize?”

“Everyone is different from their younger counterparts. Life revolves much around change, and if you think that is always an indicator of the Void sinking into your mind, then maybe you are more naive than I thought.”

“Was I-” Seth said, before Muriel interrupted.

“You, as a child, were not as different as you are now. Though, you’re more closed off now. The curiosity in your eyes has been toned down in order to best fit your family, your public. You’ve become palatable for the people around you.” She paused. “You remind me much of my younger self before I realized I did not need to be easy for others to process.”

“Yeah, and you ended up in a jail cell.” Regret in his words pooled in his stomach as he took a step away. “I don’t… I don’t want to end up like you.”

The silence stretched for longer than Seth had let it so far. Muriel, deep in thought, suddenly nodded with only a small sigh. “Then you won’t.” She held up five bony fingers. “You have options: run, learn, or barter.” She touched one finger with every option she gave him. Seth couldn’t help but notice she skipped two fingers.

“What’s the last-”

“You can leave the Void,” Muriel interrupted. “Forget about it, never think about it, let alone ever look towards the night sky again. Believe only in the power of the Source. If you do that, you have the possibility of returning to normal. The song will stop lingering.

“If you don’t wish to alleviate the comfort of the night sky, then I would suggest training yourself in the power you’ve come to find yourself with.” Seth began to protest, but she continued, raising her voice above his. “It would bring a sense of control into your life, and you would be able to hear only what you wished.”

Before she continued, Seth wedged his way into the conversation. “That cannot be the best possible solution. What if I start to show physical symptoms? I can’t hide things like that. I can lie and pretend all I want, but that’s something permanent. I can’t fix permanent.”

“Demons and witches like me could possibly help you, then. If you would wish to barter, they are the ones to speak to. Though, their deals have loopholes and fine print like you’ve never seen in your life, and, as a royal, you’ve had to deal with politicians.” Muriel’s laugh echoed in the jail cell. “But, they have power, and if you wish to change something like this so drastically, you would need such power to do so.”

“I can’t do that either.”

“I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t recommend it; I used to know those people. They’re all batshit crazy—and that’s coming from me.”

Seth sighed, rubbing in-between his eyes. “Okay, no demons and no witches then. No running from the Void and no trying to bargain with it. What else is there?” He looked to the two bony fingers she still had held up. “What other options do I have?”

“Well, you can run from the Void mentally, as I’ve already mentioned, or you can run from this place, this city, physically. There would be no one to judge you, no one to believe you’re conspiring with the forces that you are.”

“I’m not conspiring-”

“Of course not, of course not.” Muriel grinned.

Seth groaned, walking back over to the door and leaning against it. “I can’t run. My family, my city, my duty is here, and I can’t just leave that. I have friends here. I can’t leave them alone and just- just fuck off into the wild and hope I get my life figured out.” Seth paused, beginning to gesture wildly with his hands as he began to slowly unravel. “It’s- It’s like I'm on the end of a rope, right? And the rope is fraying on one side, burning on the other. I’m just left in the center, doomed to fall because of, what, some stupid mistake I made when I was six?”

Muriel, for what felt like once in her life, said nothing to him. She stayed quiet, watching him as she settled back into her seat. To her benefit, she did look guilty in a way Seth could never understand. She certainly didn’t feel guilty about teaching him. Yet, she felt pity for him. What did that mean? Did it mean to impose a better feeling onto him? It didn’t. The growing pit of uneasiness, anger, and utter understanding of his doomed position wanted to consume him. A little bit of pity wouldn’t change that fact.

For years, Seth had been able to ignore the song, ignore the empty space he felt within him during his every waking moment. He paid it no mind, and it did not bother him. But, for every slip-up, for every thought that roamed a little too far, a little too deep, the song became louder. The thoughts came closer to the surface, and Seth began to lose control of them.

Because what if? What if he did train his powers? What if he ran away? What if he didn’t have the responsibility of a castle on his shoulders? What if he filled the gap in his heart, what if he went against the whole of society, what if he abandoned his familiar beliefs, what if he rejected everything he came to know as true? The thoughts always started out blazing, like thousands of stars in front of his eyes, blinking in tune with the beat of his heart.

But then, reality came in, and it turned each little flame into smoke. It put out the fire, leaving Seth with the fear and realization that he was trapped without an exit. He continued to turn, hoping for a better choice, a sudden awareness of his situation. There had to be something other than rejecting everything and everyone he’s ever known, right? But, he would always look, and he would see nothing. He would see twisting shadows, and they would creep up his leg, across his body, and around his neck. His own curiosities turned against him, silencing him, and leaving him to watch. He could do nothing else.

Useless.

“What other options are there?”

Muriel’s silence said much more than words could.

“There has to be something else. You’re still holding one finger up, so there is something else. You have to tell me,” Seth pleaded.

“Well, if I know my traditions, there is a party tonight. The Gala of Summer, if I remember correctly. You are being trained to, later in the future, become Captain of the Guard, yes? You would know this.”

Seth nodded. While every solstice and equinox became a day of rest for every citizen in Fablehaven, the two days before were not.

Children learned of Festival Nights when they were young, begging for another story from their guardians. “Monsters lurk in the woods,” parents would say to their children. “And on Festival Nights, these monsters come out and try to attack our very way of living.”

No one knew why, no one cared to ask. Some theorized Festival Nights stood as a tradition for them as well, though they lost every year due to the preparation of the Royal Guard and their Captains. Monsters ravaged the walls of cities, and if they dare reach the inside, established groups for every town and city known as Festival Knights would fight them until dawn came. So, every day before the Festival Night, people would prepare until three in the afternoon, and instead of lying in their stress and terror that night, the castle would throw a party for royals, nobles, and respected citizens alike—the Galas of the Seasons.

Tonight, they were throwing the Gala of Summer, and all morning, Seth had been helping either Captain Burgess with their preparations. Queens without magic always took the position of Grand Captain of the Royal Knights, but Ruth, now getting older in age, began teaching Warren everything she knew. Until Seth turned twenty—or became King, whichever happened first—Warren would then teach him and take his place if Ruth resigned. The knowledge and experience trickled through the generations, leaving Seth staring at a burden he would eventually need to carry upon his back.

Grand Captain Ruth Burgess, Captain Warren Burgess, and Associate Captain Seth Burgess, the names continued on alongside the Summer Gala, the Festival Night, the Summer Solstice. Those words had branded themselves onto his mind in the past month.

“Of course I know what it is. It’s my job to understand what that is.” Seth scoffed. “But what does that have to do with my current… predicament?”

“Well, this option has a very low possibility of working, but every solstice and equinox, the Path of Stars opens. The Path of Stars is a dimensional line that connects to the Void itself. The connection point lies on the highest hill of Glasshed Cemetery, the biggest cemetery in this city. Arrive at the entrance to the cemetery at eleven tonight, and then wait there—do not look, touch, speak to, or anger the spirits there. Do not bring a lantern or any other source of light. Wait until a quarter ‘til midnight in this spot, and when the clock reaches the appropriate time, begin walking the path up the cemetery. You will need to be at the top by midnight, no later. The Void is understanding, much so then people lead others to believe, and while it may be crestfallen, it will understand your reluctance and rid you of its power. That is, if your motivations and intentions are clear. This is your only clear, direct option, and it may not even work in a way that does anything to you, good or bad. Do you understand?”

Seth did not move, barely even took a breath as his heart fumbled in his chest. Slowly, eventually, he nodded. Muriel said nothing more, nor did she look like she wanted to say anything more. So, Seth turned, putting his hand on the door. But—before he opened it, before he left her down here for perhaps the rest of her life to rot—he paused. It took him multiple tries to get the words to leave his mouth, let alone for them to be coherent and clear. “…How can I trust you?”

Muriel tilted her head up. “Do you?”

Seth flinched back ever so slightly before pushing the door open, letting it thud closed behind him. Despite everything, he found himself memorizing the list of directions.

“Fool me twice,” he muttered.

((If you've reached the end I'm thanking you so much for giving it a chance,, please reblog or comment or anything if you liked it, I'm hoping to continue it, but it may take a while (this is draft #3 for this chapter alone) and ask any questions about this AU in my asks if you'd want!! I'd love to answer them :D))

#fablehaven #dragonwatch #fhdw #seth sorenson #muriel taggert #fhdw LMDM AU #no kendra this time sorry but i have plans for her

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aerinsfables · 2 years

Text

Flower Shop AU, Part 10

🎶 it’s about damn time 🎶

This one went on waaaaaay too long, so this part shall be split in half. I will post the second half once I’m done writing it. Thanks for sticking this out with me! I’ve been swamped with work and with being an awesome mom. :) Feels good to write a bit again.

Read part 9 here!

———

Seven months later, on a bright but chilly Sunday afternoon, an already-exasperated Bracken led a somewhat nervous Kendra to the front door of his family home. He knew exactly how this evening was going to go: open the door, and Kendra would immediately be whisked away by his sisters, who were bound to overshare about him and his childhood for hours on end. They’d all have dinner together, Father would give him way too many knowing glances over their meal, and Mother would be so pleased to finally have Kendra over that she’d be smug about it. There’d be laughter, Kendra would fit right in, she’d be fawned over, and Bracken would be on the receiving end of much teasing.

“I apologize for my family in advance,” he said, pausing in front of the door.

Kendra squeezed his hand. “They can’t be that bad.”

“For you? Oh, no. I expect you’ll have a wonderful evening. It’s me who is about to be thoroughly ragged on.”

She laughed. “And I thought I was nervous.”

Bracken smiled back at her. “I’m being dramatic,” he admitted. “My sisters are going to be unbearable, though.”

Kendra laughed again, which made him smile more.

“I’m quite fond of you,” he stated.

“I like you, too,” she replied before standing on her tiptoes and planting a kiss on his cheek.

He could feel his face warming up, and released her hand to pull her into an embrace, but before he could quite do so, Enemy Number One opened the door and squealed. “Ahhhh! Look, everyone! Bracken is here, and he’s brought a lovely young woman with him!”

Kendra’s eyes widened a bit in surprise, Bracken surmised, before Enemies Number One, Two and Three grabbed hold of her arms and ushered her inside.

Bracken shook his head and followed behind the swarm of ladies, and made sure to close the front door behind him.

“I’m Elowen,” Enemy Number One announced. “The youngest of Bracken’s sisters.” She pointed to Enemies Two and Three, introduced them to Kendra as “Lizelle and Iolanthe, the lawyer and the seamstress,” then proceeded to gush over how gorgeous Bracken’s girlfriend was.

Girlfriend. He’d gone so long without one, he’d forgotten how nice it was to be able to say that. His chest felt light and cheerful, despite being surrounded by far too many crooning sisters at the same time.

Lizelle caught Bracken’s gaze and sent him a pointed look. “You look happy,” she observed.

“I am,” he replied as he snapped out of his reverie. Elowen was speaking rapid-fire at Kendra, who didn’t seem to be absorbing any of the statements which were being thrown at her. “Please stop harassing Kendra.” He walked toward his girlfriend and held out his hand to her, but Elowen slapped it away.

“We’re not harassing her,” his sister stated.

Iolanthe clicked her tongue in disapproval - whether at him or at Elowen, Bracken wasn’t entirely sure.

“You’re the first person Bracken has ever brought home,” Lizelle explained to Kendra. “I’m not sure if he’s told you that or not. He’s probably been dreading this moment, because he knew how much of a fuss there would be.” She grinned, and Bracken closed his eyes and ran one of his hands down his face.

“Don’t make me regret bringing her here,” he warned all three of his present sisters.

“Or what? You’ll never let us see her again? Might as well get used to it, Bracken. We see how smitten you are,” Elowen teased. “Yep. I get the feeling you’ll be around for a long time,” she said to Kendra, who blushed.

So it begins, he mused to himself. “Where’s Jasmine?” he asked.

Elowen smiled brightly and sighed in a truly overdramatic fashion. “My lovely, beautiful Jasmine is with Laurel and the girls at the moment,” she said. “They were picking out flower girl dresses, but should be back any time now.”

“Without you?” Lizelle asked.

“Divide and conquer. I get to choose other things for our wedding.”

“Wait - Laurel’s in town?” Bracken asked.

“Yes,” Lizelle said. “She heard you were bringing Kendra over, and decided she needed to come meet her.”

Bracken smiled despite himself. If anyone could help him manage his other three sisters - well, Iolanthe wasn’t so bad, he supposed - it would be Laurel. As the eldest child, and as a mother herself, she had a knack for conflict management.

(Also, she came with two energetic nieces who Bracken positively adored, especially when their presence offered him a means of escape from his sisters’ teasing. Bonus points.)

Lizelle led Kendra over to the living room and sat her down on a sofa. Bracken and his other two sisters followed along, and Bracken sat himself down next to Kendra before one of his sisters could take his spot. Elowen frowned at him, but he just smiled and waved at her in response, then took hold of Kendra’s hand and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. She opened her hand and they wove their fingers together.

Iolanthe smiled brilliantly at the sight, and turned to Lizelle, who also grinned. Bracken felt his face heating up again. He cleared his throat. “So, Kendra, these are three of my sisters. Elowen ran introductions very quickly, but I’ll do so again. Laurel, who’s not here yet, is the oldest of all of us. She has two children, and lives about two hours away from here with her husband. Then there’s Iolanthe.” The sister in question smiled and raised her hand. “She is a very talented, self-employed seamstress, and she loves other forms of art as well. You should see some of the dresses and other clothes or blankets she has made; perhaps she can show you some of her portfolio later?”

Iolanthe blushed. “I’d love to,” she replied. “If that’s alright with you,” she hurriedly added, her comment directed toward Kendra.

“Of course,” Kendra said. “I’d really like that.”

Bracken smiled and continued. “Next is Lizelle,” he began. “She recently obtained her law degree, and works for a law firm in the city.”

“What type of law do you practice?” Kendra asked.

“Family, for now,” Lizelle replied. “I think I want to head into more of a corporate counsel or contract counsel role eventually, but I need more experience under my belt first. Right now I help people with their wills and testaments, prenuptial agreements, powers of attorneys, I help people set up trust funds for their kids. Things like that.”

“It sounds interesting.”

“It can be,” Lizelle admitted. “Like I said, I’m more interested in other areas of law, but I’ll get there.”

Bracken gestured toward his final sister. “Elowen is the baby of the family, and she’s the one who bombarded you earlier.”

“Excuse me — you’re the baby,” Elowen corrected. “I am the favorite.”

His eyes rolled out of instinct. “Favorite. Sure. We’ll go with that, Miss I-Got-Caught-Skipping-School-At-Least-Once-Every-Month.”

Elowen grinned. “You forgot, I’m also Miss Planted-Frogs-In-Bracken’s-Bed-When-He-Was-Tiny.”

“I couldn’t sleep in that bed for days,” he muttered as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Kendra laughed, probably at their antics. “You remind me of Seth and I,” she explained when he looked at her.

“Seth?” Elowen asked.

“My brother,” Kendra continued. “He’s younger than me, and likes to pull pranks and generally cause a lot of mischief. Although he’s mellowing out a little now that he’s getting older.”

Bracken decided not to bring up the fact that Seth had regularly been pestering him to propose to Kendra at random hours of the day for the past two weeks. It was far too soon for that, Bracken had insisted. Seth hadn’t seemed to care; the proof was in his text messages. His meddling was part of the reason why Bracken had brought Kendra to his family’s home for Sunday dinner today. That, and well… it was the right time.

Elowen clapped her hands. “Another troublemaker? I must meet this brother of yours.”

“I don’t think that’s a great idea right now,” Bracken interrupted. “One of you is enough to handle in one sitting. We don’t need two.”

Kendra laughed again, while Elowen pouted. “Well, you’d better make sure that our first meeting isn’t at your wedding. Something might explode in that case.”

“Oh, knock it off, Elowen,” Lizelle chastised. “You’ll meet him at some point, and I’m sure the earth will fall off its axis because of your combined chaotic power. Look at them. They’re marriage material. It’ll happen.”

Bracken planted his face into one of his hands again as he blushed, but turned to look at Kendra when she squeezed his other one.

“We’re young,” she said. “We have time.”

He smiled at her. “We do have time,” he replied. He raised their joined hands and kissed the back of hers.

Pink filled her cheeks and she looked to her left, where Bracken saw all three of his present sisters grinning at them. “Oh, shut up,” he muttered.

Elowen placed a hand on her heart and looked at her other two sisters while feigning injury. “Why, Bracken, I don’t believe we’ve said anything. Why must you wound us so?” she asked.

“Your faces said everything,” he replied.

“We’re home!” a voice called out from the front door. There were a lot of bustling noises, and then the unmistakable sounds of children chattering excitedly. Bracken kissed Kendra’s cheek and said, “My nieces are here,” before he stood up from the couch and walked over to the front entrance of the house. Kendra stayed where she was.

Upon seeing him, the two little girls shouted, “Uncle Bracken!” and proceeded to glue themselves to his legs while he laughed and tickled them. Laurel and Jasmine stood inside the hallway, the former looking decidedly more worn out than the latter, and Bracken embraced his eldest sister, trailing his nieces behind him as they giggled and refused to let go of his ankles.

“Hi, Bracken,” Laurel said as she smiled. “I see my daughters have staked their claims.”

“They can’t remain tethered to my legs if they want to play outside on the swings later,” he announced. As expected, this caught the girls’ attention.

“Swings?!” Piper, the older one, cried out. She leapt up from her position on top of Bracken’s foot and ran for the door to the backyard.

“In a minute,” Savannah, the younger one, complained while she better secured herself around Bracken’s knee. “I want Uncle Bracken to walk around some more first.” She looked up at him with her best puppy dog eyes, and he pretended to be wounded by her cuteness.

“I can’t bear it,” he played along. “Her adorable face is too much to refuse.”

Laurel laughed a little, then turned her gaze toward Kendra and asked him, “Is that her?”

Bracken looked at Kendra and found her still sitting down on the couch in the living room, looking back at him while his other sisters and Jasmine crowded around her, no doubt asking her a million different questions again. She smiled and waved at him, and he repeated her actions back to her. “Yes, that’s her,” he replied to Laurel. “Her name is Kendra.”

“She’s beautiful,” Laurel said, then returned her attention to her brother. “You look good, Bracken. Happiness looks good on you.”

Despite himself, he felt a little bashful at her comment. “Thank you,” he replied. “How have you been?”

“I’m well,” she said. “Jordan wished he could come this time around, but he has a few important business meetings tomorrow and Tuesday. He’ll come with us next time.”

“Uncle Bracken! Waaaaaaaalk!” Savannah shouted. He looked down at the little girl who clung to his knee. Piper had given up at some point and had instead run outside to play in the backyard.

“You wish to go for a walk, hmm?” he asked.

“Yes!” she cried, a glorious grin on her lips.

“Well then, a walk we shall have.” He moved toward the backyard as quickly as he could, and Savannah giggled so hard that he thought she would lose her grip and fall off his foot. When he reached the back door, he leaned over and picked her up, then flipped her upside-down and over his shoulder, and announced as she laughed even harder, “We’ll be outside!”

“Bracken, dear, don’t drop my granddaughter,” Mother called as she exited the kitchen.

“I would never!” he replied, then pretended to drop Savannah, who screamed at first, but immediately resumed laughter when he caught her in his arms. He couldn’t hold back his grin. “You didn’t think I’d actually drop you, did you?”

“Dinner will be ready in five minutes,” Mother warned. “Your father is finishing the salad and rolls.”

“We’ll come in.”

“Don’t get them all dirty,” she insisted. “Now. I’ve got a certain girlfriend to greet before we all sit down.” She wiped her hands on the towel she held, and made her way over to where Kendra was.

“Uncle Bracken!“

He turned to find that Piper had opened the back door and was calling to him. “Uncle Bracken, push me on the swing!”

“The swing?” he asked. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yes!” she shouted. “Way up high!”

Bracken put Savannah down onto her feet, told the girls, “Last one to the swingset’s a rotten egg,” and then ran outside and listened to their happy cries as they chased after him.

He caught a glimpse of his mother embracing a smiling Kendra before the door to the backyard closed.

#fablehaven #brackendra #aerinm writes #flower shop au #in which there are so many characters that I battled over whether or not to actually write this #then I decided that this is all self-indulgent anyway so who cares really #also in which Bracken is dramatic and ready for his doom #and Kendra is fawned over #and I named Bracken’s sisters whatever I wanted to name them bc forget canon

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