literature

It Takes Two (for mediocrity)

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Gelltor stopped grimacing and whining long enough to look at his floppy wrist in astonishment.

"That's not supposed to bend like that."

"You think?" Predak growled, grabbing his paw and lower arm as she clumsily prepared to pop his wrist back into place.

Castle Marl had been quiet and gloomy in the morning fog bank that rolled in over the lake, entwining the castle in its own nest of clouds. Predak had been strolling around the lakeside to explore the nooks and crannies of the castle base, hoping to avoid her siblings and the growing pains they were all facing. Instead, she ran into a sulking Gelltor sitting on one shore while he nursed a dislocated wrist.

Predak raised Gelltor's arm and shoved his wrist up with no warning, and Gelltor yowled as his wrist slid back into place with a pop that echoed over the still water. He yanked his paw back and shoved his sister away, snarling.

"You should've given me a warning you were goin' to do that!"

"Mayhaps you should be less stupid next time and not get hurt!" Predak shot back. "We all heard mother's commotion; why were you dumb enough to bring her that great big ugly lump of a rock?"

"It had fossils in it!" Gelltor snapped, drawing his paw back to nurse it. "Thought it would be a good idea to get her something before Mokkan beat the rest of us to butterin' her up and you know it."

"Aye, and with the state she's in now, no one is goin' to be buttering her up anytime soon," Predak said.

She grimaced as she remembered the ranting she and Ziral had heard from her mother's chambers and the crack that echoed after it, along with someone fleeing from the hall, and every one of the siblings had avoided the queen that morning. Silth was getting touchier. Their mother was becoming harder to please in any aspect and starting to avoid the outskirts of the castle. Her temper was strong and fierce, leading her to lash out at inopportune moments for everybeast— much like Gelltor.

Predak's eyes drifted back to her brother. His anger was simmering down, and now he just looked sullen and disgruntled from his forced retreat.

"Did she throw it at you?" Predak said.

"She threw it at the wall next to me," Gelltor said. "But I spent two hours mucking around with a load of filthy rats to find that rock after Ascrod landed me in trouble. I wasn't about to just let her break it."

"You tried to catch it," Predak said flatly. She had a solid five seconds to marvel at her brother's stupidity. "Mother was tryin' to take your head off, and the first thing you do is try to catch the blasted rock instead of turning and running out the door like anyone with half a brain would."

"Well, what would've you done?" Gelltor snapped, throwing his arms out and wincing at the flap of his wrist. "T'would be fun to see you deal with mother when she's like that; it isn't like I have anything else to give her!"

"I would've ran!" Predak said, her voice cutting through the fog, "Like I just told you!"

"And you're runnin' from Vannan right now, which is why you're out here, right?" Gelltor said, tone snide. "I don't think you've given the queen a good gift in a while or charmed her any."

Predak shoved him. She turned away from Gelltor and crossed her arms as he huffed and began to swear heatedly about her beneath his breath. Predak swallowed a snort.

Males. Her brothers were getting insufferable the older they got, besides being a lot lankier. If father had been a fourth of this stupid towards mother all the time, Predak could see why Silth had chosen to sink an axe into the back of his neck and shove him off the top of the tower.

Predak turned to watch the tendrils of fog creep above the surface of the water. It floated and swirled over Castle Marl's black moat with a weightless easiness, but Predak couldn't help the sinking feeling inside of her.

Gelltor was right. As much as she hated to admit it, when she thought about it, both she and he hadn't been appeasing mother much lately with gifts or words, especially when she got into her foul tempers and fits over shiny things. That kind of sweet-talking was left for Mokkan or Lantur, even if the latter made Silth's temper worse sometimes. Ziral and Vannan were good at digging up things the queen liked and presenting them to her at the right moment. And Ascrod—well, at least Ascrod knew how to grovel right.

Gelltor and Predak were the middle children. They were the oldest in the second litter composed of them, Ascrod, and Lantur. The preceding litter had yielded Mokkan, Ziral, and Vannan.

Neither Predak nor Gelltor were very good looking—they were Marlfoxes, which put them miles above any other creatures, but among their family, they were lackluster. Gelltor's chin was too thick and he was too short, and Predak's hooded eyes gave her a dull expression and her shoulders weren't straight. Lantur and Ascord were the cutest, and Vannan was decent-looking, but Mokkan and Ziral were the best looking out of the brood, and being the oldest, they had also had time to polish their charm to deal with Silth.

Charm was another area where Gelltor and Predak were stuck. Their tongues stumbled over any slick lies or flatteries they tried to pay, and they couldn't weave silvery circles around anyone like Ascrod and little Lantur could, or voice the sweet, anger-laced lies that Mokkan and Ziral did so well with. And Vannan; at least Vannan could hold her tongue when she was outdone. Gelltor suffered from his temper daily, Predak thought, observing her grumpy brother, and unlike Ziral, he didn't have the intelligence to make up for it or turn it to work for him.

Intelligence. Predak hated that word sometimes. She had to admit that she and Gelltor weren't quite as sharp as the rest of their siblings. Gelltor wasn't as bright and missed out on things, and Predak stumbled and picked up late on the intricacies of the backstabbing plans the others made. That was part of the reason she had been forced to flee from Vannan earlier: she hadn't known she was being set up for getting locked in the kitchen scullery until Vannan almost slammed the door on her ribs when she escaped.

Predak didn't want to admit it, but she had a secret fear that the needle she had was short, filed-down and blunt, and everybeast else's needles were long, sharp and slender, capable of pricking a paw and making somebeast bleed before they even realized it. Everybeast else but Gelltor, Predak thought.

She shifted, adjusting her seat on the hard rock. The mist was starting to stick along the edges of her fur in small droplets, but it gave her no chill or discomfort. Predak was used to the gloomy weather of the island: she was a Marlfox. Next to her, Gelltor shifted, feeling the same thing. Predak finally turned her head to look at him. He was still rubbing his wrist.

"Hey," she said, extending her paw, "pass it over."

Gelltor gave her a suspicious look, but he did as she asked and put his paw in hers. Predak pulled out a ribbon she had filched from Lantur's room and began to tie up his wrist, supporting it.

"Now Lantur's goin' to be mad at me too," Gelltor said, but he sounded more disdainful than concerned.

"I don't give a halfbit about what Lantur thinks," Predak said. They might have to face Lantur's squeaky and vengeful wrath later, but right now, that wasn't a concern.

"Neither do I," Gelltor said. "She's a OWW!" he yipped, his fingers tightening around Predak's when she pulled the ribbon snug. He snapped at her. "Watch how hard you're pullin' that!"

"I am, idiot," Predak said, nipping back and continuing to tie the ribbon. "If you want to complain, you can do it yourself."

She finished the knot off, and she and Gelltor dropped their paws, the last joints of their fingers still interlocked. They watched some of the distant, black figures of the water rats working in the distance, moving about to tend to the slaves on the edges of the island away from the castle and to haul up nets of fish to feed themselves. The upper floors of Castle Marl itself were still dormant.

With no doubt, Predak thought, everyone was lounging around their quarters, even if they were going to get stir-crazy soon and have to come out. Fog was a Marlfox's friend. Any element of disguise was. And the weather was too inviting for a game of hide-and-seek to stay inside.

An idea formed in Predak's mind as she saw the rats running about the water's edge, being careful not to wade in too far, and remembered one of the small ponds that had formed at the edge of the castle's rear walls.

"You want to help me push Vannan into the lake?"

Gelltor looked at her with a hint of apprehension.

"With the pikes? While everyone is still around?"

"No, daft, I meant the shallow pool in the cove around back," Predak said. "T'will be too shallow for them there."

Gelltor considered it for a moment.

"If Ascrod goes in after her, then deal," he said.

"Done," Predak said, curling her fingers fully between his and shaking his paw before she got up, and Gelltor followed, helping her past a patch of slick rock.

They were Predak and Gelltor Marlfox, and they were not the smartest, or the oldest or the cleverest, or the youngest or the prettiest. They could not take on the rising heirs Mokkan or Ziral or Vannan on their own, or outdo the childish charisma of Lantur or Ascrod. The only ones they could possibly handle on their own were each other.

But they took what victories they could get.
www.fanfiction.net/s/10254434/…

Doing a Marlfox oneshot collection in my spare time, because that dysfunctional bunch doesn't get enough love or development about their situation. Feel free to send requests or prompts through the reviews or the inbox, provided they follow these guidelines:

Short fic requests open, one request per reader. Prompt taken from tumblr, whump fic; send me two of the Marlfox brood and one of the following sentences, and I'll write you a whump or hurt comfort ficlet about them:

"Ah, that hurt!"/ "Are you sure you're alright?" / "Can you walk?" / "Do that and you'll only worsen things." / "Does that hurt?" / "How do you expect to _ with a sprained _?" / "I'll carry you, hold still or it'll hurt more." / "I can't bend my arm." / "I can't walk." / "I think I hurt my ankle." / "Stop!" / "Stop crying and listen to me." / "That's not supposed to bend like that." / "You hurt your leg?" / "You look like you're in pain."

The prompt for this one was the lovely "That's not supposed to bend like that."

© 2014 - 2024 SaraaLuna
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Noratcat's avatar
The REdwall world is deeper than I thought.