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Brothers	By : Koori Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 1830 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
In year 603 of the King's Calendar – The orc shaman Ner'zhul, now imprisoned in ice as the Lich King, corrupts archmage Kel'Thuzad of Dalaran. Kel'Thuzad forms the Cult of the Damned, maddened mortals who are obsessed with the undead, to aid him in creating a plague of undeath.
Chapter Eleven – Nathaniel Conway, Age 10
"Hey, Nathaniel, my sister has a dress she's outgrown; want me to ask if you can have it?"
Nathaniel Conway put a hand on his brother's tense arm. "Just ignore them, not anything new."
Foster nodded and they kept walking. They had just left school at Corin's Crossing, walking alongside their sisters, Marlene Redpath who was a year older than Foster and Bethany O'Connell, who was the same age as his brother.
"How's baby Jessica doing" Nathaniel asked.
"She's great," Marlene answered. "It feels weird being an aunt."
"You ask me," Foster said with a lopsided grin. "It's even weirder thinking your brother, Joseph, as a dad."
Out of the corner of his eye Nathaniel saw a blur of moment and skillfully moved himself and his younger sister Sara out of the way. The objected aimed for his back splat on the ground. "Someone is going to be missing that egg," he said as he continued to walk.
"I don't understand," Bethany said. "Why are they so unkind to you?"
"Because they ran out of dogs to kick," Nathaniel replied with a shrug.
Those in question were brothers York and Kyle Madison, Vance Dixon and Reuben Lewis; they ranged in ages from ten to fourteen. For the past couple of months Nathaniel had been a target for their bullying but he never reacted to them and they were growing frustrated. On the other hand, Foster had reached the end of his very short rope and it took all of Nathaniel's will to keep him out of trouble.
They paused at the edge of town to say their goodbyes to Bethany, who lived in Corin's. The four boys approached and Nathaniel sighed as Foster moved to stand slightly in front of the group. His brother had taken after their pa; he was lean and muscular, from the time they spent in the field. Nathaniel had done his share of field work as well but his body seemed to lack the ability to bulk up the same way. He did however have his own attributes with agility and speed, though wasn't in the mood to flaunt either. He hoped Foster's imposing stance would keep the idiots at bay.
"Guys this is stupid, leave us alone," Foster said. He still carried Bethany's books in one hand, his own in the pack slung on his back.
"No reason to get all angry," Vance said, with an evil grin. "We just had a question."
"And what would that be?" Foster replied.
"We were just wondering," Vance said, "does your brother have a dick or a pus…"
Foster tossed the books under his arm toward Nathaniel who caught them with ease and then followed through with a fist to Vance's face. "Not in front of the ladies," Foster said as Vance fell on his bottom from the blow, blood trickling from his lip.
Handing Bethany her books, Nathaniel smiled apologetically at her. "Sorry about this," he said as the three remaining teens charged his brother. Foster dodged the clumsy punch from Kyle as he kicked York in the gut knocking him away. Nathaniel ducked under Foster's punch and tackled Reuben around the waist bringing them both the ground. He wasn't as strong as Foster but he was faster and sprung away from Reuben after delivering a knee to the groin.
'Baby brother I have this," Foster growled.
"Just evening the odds," Nathaniel replied.
At moments like this, everything moved in slow motion for Nathaniel. He seemed able to see the attacks before they happened and hear the slightest change of the wind around him, enabling him to duck and dodge blows. A similar occurrence happened when he hunted around his home. The same skill warned him of the menace behind them, which trivialized the four bullies dusting themselves off. He grabbed Foster's arm stopping him from throwing another punch. His brother looked over at him, his eyes flashing, and then saw what Nathaniel already knew.
"Fuck," he whispered.
"Very fucked," Nathaniel replied in the same hushed tone. "I'm so blaming you."
Their four opponents were a bit slower than they and started to move toward them again.
"Boys, I don't really think you want me to take this up with your fathers do you?" Nathaniel's pa said from behind him.
"He started it!" York said, pointing at Foster.
"And if my father had been five minutes slower I'd finished it to," Foster snapped back. "For the last time, leave my brother alone or I'll …"
"Or you'll what?" Their pa growled slightly.
Foster kicked the ground and fell quiet. Nathaniel didn't care for the smug looks on the teens' faces as they turned and headed back into town but he had other problems to worry about, mainly the callused hand that grasped his shoulder. "Say goodbye to Bethany and Marlene, children," their father said.
Farewells were said, the girls replied with soft goodbyes and after looks of worry, hurried into town, their heads bent together whispering.
"Get into the wagon," their pa said as he helped Janice into the seat up front, "we'll talk about this when we get home. I had come into town for supplies; you two can help me unload them." He then put Sara and Jenna on either side of their sister, who wrapped an arm around both of them.
"Yes, sir," the boys said as they tossed their packs into the wagon and climbed inside.
"Papa," Janice said, "those boys were being awfully mean to Nathaniel … Foster just did what he's been raised to do, protect us young-uns."
Their father waved his hand. "We'll talk later," he said tensely.
The ride home was a strained silence. Nathaniel fished the ring out he wore around his neck and played with it. Slipping it up and down the chain and onto his fingers, it fit his thumb, wouldn't be too much longer and he could wear it proper. Though he had only seen Mama wearing any jewelry so it was probably best to keep it tucked under his shirt when out and about. Wondering for the umpteenth time why his pa insisted he wear it, Foster and his sisters didn't have any trinkets that their parents made them wear. The standard reply was always, "You'll understand when you're older."
A soft tap on his boot brought his eyes up and Foster smiled reassuringly at Nathaniel, from where he sat across from him. His brother had a knack at making him feel safe and he slid the ring back under his shirt and returned the grin. As the wagon pulled up the lane to their house and came to a stop in front of the barn, the two boys hopped down. Foster handed Nathaniel his pack and grabbed one of the wooden boxes in the back of the cart. Shouldering both bags Nathaniel hurried into the house and dropped them down at the door inside.
"Hey, that isn't where they belong," his ma said from the chair she was knitting at.
"Sorry, Ma," Nathaniel replied. "I can't dawdle, Foster and I … well … there were these boys and … um, Pa wants to talk to us."
"I'll take them to their room," Janice said as she and the twins walked in. "You best go," she said.
Nathaniel could hear his mother sigh as he raced outside and back to the wagon. Mr. Grant and his father were removing a large wooden beam. He ducked under it and reached inside the cart to grab a couple of burlap sacks, they were heavier than he first thought and he had to resort to just taking one.
"Careful with those," his father said. "There are some peaches in there for your ma to make preserves out of."
"Yes, sir," Nathaniel said as he jogged back to the house, gently placing the bag of peaches on the kitchen floor. After telling his ma about them he ran outside and to fetch the second bag as well. However Mrs. Rosemary had beaten him to it and waved him off saying she'd take them to the kitchen and help his mother clean them.
The wagon emptied too fast for Nathaniel; soon he and Foster were standing before their disapproving father. "Boys, I told you when I started teaching you how to fight hand-to-hand it was only to be used in self-defense."
"It was …" Foster started but was cut off by their father.
"I was there, I saw you throw the first punch," he said.
"Did you hear what they said?" Foster replied defensively.
"I was too far away," their pa admitted. "I do not possess the same hearing as Nathaniel is gifted with. However, stick and stones my boys."
"They were using crude language in front of the girls," Foster said. "We told them to stop many times …"
Their father sighed and moved his gaze to where Nathaniel had been standing silently. "What is your take on the events, my son?"
The quiet boy shrugged his shoulders. "I tried to get us out of town but after it started I had to do my part."
"I didn't ask you to," Foster replied, but there was no bite to his tone.
There was no memory of his father ever raising a hand to him or any of his siblings so Nathaniel didn't fear that, the disappointment in his pa's face was enough. "I'm trying, sir," he said, "I'm trying to turn the other cheek like you taught us. It just gets so hard; they are just relentless in their attacks. Stick and stones may break bones like you say, sir, but after a while harmful words hurt just as much." Nathaniel's cheeks flushed at the tears he felt in his eyes and he looked away.
His father knelt down in front of him. "What have they been saying?" he asked.
The blush deepened and Nathaniel felt the knot in his stomach twist, it was bad enough to hear it let alone repeat it. His brother said the words for him. "They call him a girl a lot of times, today asked if wanted to wear a dress and before … I lost my temper, asked if he had a pussy … pardon the harsh language Pa, but you asked."
"Someday soon, my son," his father said standing. "They'll see the error in their ways, when you fill out like your brother and all the girls are fawning over you."
"Icky," Nathaniel mumbled and that caused his father to laugh.
"They won't always be icky," his pa said. "All right, go help Grant with the stone wall we're building around the orchard. Put those muscles of yours to good use."
"Pa?" Foster asked.
"Yes, son?"
"If they throw the first punch, we're allowed to counter right?" he asked.
"Only if it's done by fists, not by words," their pa said. "Now get to work, oh and no dessert tonight for either of you."
"Yes, sir," they said in unison as they jogged in the direction of the orchard.
"At least we still get dinner," Foster said quietly.
"Aye," Nathaniel agreed, "Pa was in a generous mood."
- 10
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- 12
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Brothers