06-10-2015, 03:31 PM
It took a considerable amount of time to quell the lightning storm Robbie had unleashed within his bedroom, and even more time after that to calm Robbie himself down.
At one point, Mickey could have sworn the boy started hyperventilating—he shuffled into a corner of the room, breathing all too deeply, and started crying uncontrollably. Luckily, Mickey and Berthe made a good team; the mouse had managed to soften Robbie’s magic with a little magic of his own, and Berthe, afterwards, swooped in to be the boy’s mother, and assure him that—despite the accidental vandalism—everything was going to be alright.
After they had successfully gotten Robbie tucked back into bed, Mickey and Berthe sat down to a cup of tea down in the dining room, and for a moment, the most uncomfortable silence persisted between them. For the first time, the mouse felt duped by the only woman he had come to truly trust in this town. He missed the friends he’d made in the Abyss. Erza had always been straight-up with him. Same with Samus and Harry.
Eventually, it became unbearable, and Mickey broke the silence.
“Why didn’t you tell me Robbie could use magic?”
Berthe swallowed, nervously. “I didn’t really know,” she said, although Mickey knew that to be a lie. She explained that there had been some hints—an accidental fire here, a sudden unexplainable downpour there—but that he had never shown abilities as volatile as the ones displayed upstairs. “And… I didn’t really want to know, either,” she continued, ashamedly, “Magic… isn’t really the type of thing I want my family involved in. I’m fine with others doing it, and everything, but I just never thought… I don’t know, I figured my boy would grow up to be in the town guard, or something respectable like that…”
“Something respectable? Just going into the family business of protecting the village of Bree?” Mickey’s expression turned quizzical. This place really did have all too many problems with all sorts of things.
“I can’t have my boy being a wizard, Mickey,” the Guard-Captain said. “Just… I have to think of what the town will think. Of my boy, of me, of my whole family. Who knows? Maybe they’ll even fire me from being Guard-Captain if they think I’ve got magic in my blood. People don’t trust magicians around here.”
People didn’t trust at all around here, it seemed.
“That’s ridiculous,” the mouse grunted, taking a sip of tea. Another uncomfortable silence set in, and once again, Mickey broke it. “So you’ve just been keeping this a secret?”
“Not for long,” Berthe explained, “I’ve only really had an inkling for a little while.”
“And you mean to keep it that way?” Mickey asked.
“Yes, as long as I can,” the Guard-Captain resolved, and Mickey shook his head, sitting the tea down on the table and walking away from Berthe. He could not bear to look at her in this moment, as she sat there so ashamed of her own son.
“Berthe,” he started, staring into the empty fireplace, “Somebody’s got to teach that boy how to handle his powers. I would say that I could do it, but… I can’t stay here. I have to find a way home. He needs more help than I’m able to give him.”
“Dalaran,” the hulking woman said, almost too quiet for Mickey to hear.
The mouse did hear, though, and spun around. “What?”
“They say people can go to Dalaran,” Berthe shrugged, “to be trained in the art of magic. But if I send my boy away there, people will know.”
Mickey’s gaze focused on Berthe, speaking louder than any words his squeaky little voice could have conjured up. He had no idea what this ‘Dalaran’ place was, but at this point, he knew it was Berthe’s only option. Keeping Robbie cooped up in her little cottage would help no one. Her eyes flickered up to meet his, and she knew what he wanted her to do.
“I don’t know, Mick—”
“I wanna go, Ma,” a little voice said from the stairs. Mickey and Berthe turned and saw Robbie standing there, listening to them bicker. The Guard-Captain sighed a deep sigh, and the boy stepped down into the living room. “I gotta go, Ma.”
Mickey turned and looked at Berthe, making eye contact with her and giving her a look as if to say, he’s right. The Guard-Captain’s eyes grew sad, and Mickey knew she’d made up her mind. “But how do I even get him there? I’m the captain of this city’s guard, I can’t just take off a few days to walk my child to the capital.”
Mickey realized what had to be done.
“I’ll take him.”
At one point, Mickey could have sworn the boy started hyperventilating—he shuffled into a corner of the room, breathing all too deeply, and started crying uncontrollably. Luckily, Mickey and Berthe made a good team; the mouse had managed to soften Robbie’s magic with a little magic of his own, and Berthe, afterwards, swooped in to be the boy’s mother, and assure him that—despite the accidental vandalism—everything was going to be alright.
After they had successfully gotten Robbie tucked back into bed, Mickey and Berthe sat down to a cup of tea down in the dining room, and for a moment, the most uncomfortable silence persisted between them. For the first time, the mouse felt duped by the only woman he had come to truly trust in this town. He missed the friends he’d made in the Abyss. Erza had always been straight-up with him. Same with Samus and Harry.
Eventually, it became unbearable, and Mickey broke the silence.
“Why didn’t you tell me Robbie could use magic?”
Berthe swallowed, nervously. “I didn’t really know,” she said, although Mickey knew that to be a lie. She explained that there had been some hints—an accidental fire here, a sudden unexplainable downpour there—but that he had never shown abilities as volatile as the ones displayed upstairs. “And… I didn’t really want to know, either,” she continued, ashamedly, “Magic… isn’t really the type of thing I want my family involved in. I’m fine with others doing it, and everything, but I just never thought… I don’t know, I figured my boy would grow up to be in the town guard, or something respectable like that…”
“Something respectable? Just going into the family business of protecting the village of Bree?” Mickey’s expression turned quizzical. This place really did have all too many problems with all sorts of things.
“I can’t have my boy being a wizard, Mickey,” the Guard-Captain said. “Just… I have to think of what the town will think. Of my boy, of me, of my whole family. Who knows? Maybe they’ll even fire me from being Guard-Captain if they think I’ve got magic in my blood. People don’t trust magicians around here.”
People didn’t trust at all around here, it seemed.
“That’s ridiculous,” the mouse grunted, taking a sip of tea. Another uncomfortable silence set in, and once again, Mickey broke it. “So you’ve just been keeping this a secret?”
“Not for long,” Berthe explained, “I’ve only really had an inkling for a little while.”
“And you mean to keep it that way?” Mickey asked.
“Yes, as long as I can,” the Guard-Captain resolved, and Mickey shook his head, sitting the tea down on the table and walking away from Berthe. He could not bear to look at her in this moment, as she sat there so ashamed of her own son.
“Berthe,” he started, staring into the empty fireplace, “Somebody’s got to teach that boy how to handle his powers. I would say that I could do it, but… I can’t stay here. I have to find a way home. He needs more help than I’m able to give him.”
“Dalaran,” the hulking woman said, almost too quiet for Mickey to hear.
The mouse did hear, though, and spun around. “What?”
“They say people can go to Dalaran,” Berthe shrugged, “to be trained in the art of magic. But if I send my boy away there, people will know.”
Mickey’s gaze focused on Berthe, speaking louder than any words his squeaky little voice could have conjured up. He had no idea what this ‘Dalaran’ place was, but at this point, he knew it was Berthe’s only option. Keeping Robbie cooped up in her little cottage would help no one. Her eyes flickered up to meet his, and she knew what he wanted her to do.
“I don’t know, Mick—”
“I wanna go, Ma,” a little voice said from the stairs. Mickey and Berthe turned and saw Robbie standing there, listening to them bicker. The Guard-Captain sighed a deep sigh, and the boy stepped down into the living room. “I gotta go, Ma.”
Mickey turned and looked at Berthe, making eye contact with her and giving her a look as if to say, he’s right. The Guard-Captain’s eyes grew sad, and Mickey knew she’d made up her mind. “But how do I even get him there? I’m the captain of this city’s guard, I can’t just take off a few days to walk my child to the capital.”
Mickey realized what had to be done.
“I’ll take him.”
![[Image: 2agonyw.png]](http://i68.tinypic.com/2agonyw.png)