Laumavipin: Forest Shielding the Darkness

A/N: Okay so here is the finished work finally of the first chapter hopefully I can get Chapter 2 in soon. <3


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Laumavipin
Chapter One

Eric’s hazel/green eyes opened to they grayish early morning light. After years of getting up at a time that he dubbed Entirely Too Early his body tended to wake up faster than his mind. Because of this, his mind was still pondering the very nice dream he had been having while his body was getting out of bed and moving over to the mirrored washstand in the corner.

A face full of chilly water and a muffled shriek later, Eric was feeling more awake. Much less pleasant, but definitely more awake. He moved around his bed to the dresser and slipped off his frilly, lacy, pink nightgown.

His personal style didn’t lend itself much to frilly things, but it had been a gift from Old Man Hannovan. Ha had lived nearby, and Eric, who loved visiting with the elderly, had gone to visit at least twice a week. Hannovan was such a kind man, he always let Eric spend the night and use his huge bathtub. Proper baths were regrettably hard to come by in Laumavipin.

Hannovan had given Eric many gifts, including the frilly thing that lay on the floor now. Eric generally took gifts of clothing apart and used the fabrics to make other things. He only kept the nightgown because soon after giving it, Old Man Hannovan had died, viciously mauled to death by some woodland creature or other.

Eric shrugged the thoughts away. He wore the nightgown as a tribute to the memory of Old Man Hannovan, and the last gift he ever gave, and that was that. If maybe, just maybe, something very deep down thought that wearing the nightgown made him feel pretty, it was a complete coincidence. Really.

While Eric had been convincing himself that liking to feel pretty wasn’t a bad thing at all, his body had gotten dressed on automatic. It really did that an awful lot. Eric wondered if he should be worried about that while taking stock of his body’s choices.

Black hose and breeches, standard. His favorite tunic, in a garish blood red, fastened at the waist with a long black sash. Eric loved black and red. It made him feel like a Rebellious Teenager, complete with Deep and Troublesome Thoughts.

The nightgown was straightened and hung on the peg in the door before Eric grabbed his large basket and headed down the rickety stairs to the main room of the cabin. A cursory glance revealed no one, which meant his father was either having a lie in, yeah right, or had already started on his chores. The second sounded much more likely.

He weaved in between the beaten up couch and Hand (and Home)-made end table and headed for the counter that ran the length of the far wall. Sure enough, there was a note listing his chores for the day. He grabbed an apple to munch on as he read.

“Let’s see. Scrub main room floor, wash curtains and bed linens, get out the tub and bucket in preparation for baths tonight, gather berries, feed… the… no. No this can’t be right.”

But there it was, his father’s handwriting spelling out, clear as day, Feed the dog. And below that, Yes I really mean it.

Eric forced down his mouthful of apple. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This was a Bad Thing. May as well get it over with. And start catching frogs to tuck in between his father’s sheets.

He left the cabin and walked around back to the shed. He stared at the door for a few moments before shaking his head. Before he could start distracting himself with thoughts of Crazy Father and his Very Scary Habits again, he grabbed the key from beside the door, unlocked it, and ducked inside.

It was almost completely dark, a single lantern providing the only light. The dank, musty smell of hay and something else was overpowering, and Eric had to focus on breathing through his mouth. It didn’t help much.

He shuffled along the wall, casting nervous glances at the center of the room until he reached a large crate. He reached in and grabbed a dead hare, one of several that had been in his father’s snares yesterday.

Eric forced himself to edge forward one step, then two, and tried for another before just giving up and just tossing the meat into the middle of the shed. He heard the soft thunk of flesh hitting flesh and threw himself back against the wall and instant before a loud and ferocious snarling started up in the center of the room.

His eye were squeezed shut, but he could hear well enough to picture what was happening. Its panting and growling, the shifting and scratching of hay and dirt beneath its feet, and the most horrible sound, the clanking of the chain that was Eric’s only protection.

Oh Gods. Was it getting closer? Why wasn’t it going for the hare? Was that subtle creaking his imagination or was the chain giving way to the beast’s powerful muscle?

The last though was enough to force Eric’s tensed body into motion and he ran the few steps to the door, bursting outside and slamming it behind him before locking it firmly. He was tempted to throw the key as far away as he could, but ended up hanging it back in its place.

Or at least, he tried. His hands were shaking so badly it took three tries before he managed to catch the peg. Eric put a face he knew was pale into hands that wouldn’t stop shaking. While he was busy trying not to think about the terrifying thing his father insisted on keeping, his body, again on autopilot, went back into the house and had gathered the linens from his room before he came back to himself.

He piled them by the door and was about to gather the linens from his father’s room when the door opened itself. Since when do doors open themselves? Or, he amended to himself, it could be that someone on the other side of the door opened it. Eric looked up past an impressive bust (that was practically falling out of her dress, how utterly tasteless) to a woman he vaguely remembered seeing in the nearest Settlement once or twice.

She brushed past him and was out the door before Eric so much as blinked. He looked in through the still open door to where his father was sitting shirtless on his bed. Eric was immediately Not Pleased. He reminded himself to find worms to go with the frogs. His father hated worms With A Fiery Passion.

Squashing down the tiny flare of guilt that came from imagining his father’s horrified screams, Eric reminded himself that the older man deserved it. Saddling his son with the chores to romp about with Miss Impressive Chest was deserving of punishment.

“Now Eric, please don’t look at me that way. And please, no more worms?”

Squashing down this flare of guilt was a bit more difficult. Eric wasn’t sure it was entirely gone and hid a frown before replying.

“Of course, Father.”

Cue Sweet Smile no. 47, and sure, enough, his father guiltily opened his mouth again.

“Heh. I’m sorry about this, son. Let me take care of the hauling today. Take care of the laundry and berries and we’ll call it even?”

Too easy.

They worked through the morning, Eric scrubbing the floor and laundry alike, his father hauling buckets of water around for him and doing the rest of the heavier chores. Before Eric knew it the laundry was hanging up and it was almost time for frog catch- uh, berry picking.

“The laundry is all hanging up to dry, Father. I’m going to get the berries now.”

A muffled grunt of affirmation came from underneath the counter where his father was trying to fix something or other. Eric sidled over and slid several empty jars into his basket before grabbing his cloak and heading out the door.

As soon as he was outside he released the mischievous smile that had been building all day. His slid his hooded cloak, a beautiful red that matched his tunic, over his shoulders and pulled up the hood. The cloak was his most prized possession, a gift from his grandfather, his favorite person in the whole of Terra. The berries were going into pies, one of which he would take to his grandfather the next day.

With a cheerful skip to his step, Eric made his way down the path and into the woods of Laumavipin.