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Brothers	By : Koori Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 1832 -:- 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
- 6
- 7
- 8
Author's Note: Our first switch away from Thomas's perspective, this will become more common as the tale progresses and his children age.

Chapter Seven - Foster Conway, Age 7
Foster hopped down from the back of the wagon driven by Joseph Redpath. The red-headed man had long since outgrown school but his younger sister, Marlene, was only a year old than Foster and they often gave him a ride home after school. Waving and voicing he thanks for the lift he headed up the road toward the house. School had been fun today, he'd never admit it aloud but he enjoyed the learning. It had been a few days since Pa had talked to him. Janice and Nathaniel loved sharing a room it seemed and he was most certainly enjoying not sharing a room with his brother.
He loved walking into the house, it always smelled so good … today it smelled like cookies and he was excited to see some cooling on the table. "I'm home, Ma!" he shouted as he walked over to the treats.
"Just two, young man!" came the shouted reply from upstairs. Setting his books down, he grabbed a set of cookies and glanced around. Nathaniel, Janice and Sara were on the floor playing with blocks. Well the two older ones were trying to build towers and Sara was having a lot of fun knocking them over. Janice and Nathaniel would just laugh alongside the youngest and start building again.
"Ma, going to go help Pa in the fields!" He shouted up the stairs.
"They are in the orchard today," his mother said as she came down holding Jenna. "Take your brother with you, if he wants to go."
Sighing Foster glanced over at Nathaniel who met his gaze for a brief moment and then looked away. "I want to play with blocks," he said softly to Foster's surprise and delight.
"All right," he said running out the door. "I'll be back later!"
Racing out behind the barn he came to the coppice of apple trees. His pa had told him it would still be a couple more years before there would be apples to eat. He wondered what they were doing out here. He found Mrs. Rosemary first; she was using shears to cut off some of the smaller branches. "Watcha, doing that for?" he asked.
"It will help them produce more fruit when they are older," she replied with a smile. "Can you gather up these twigs and take them to the burn pile? Your pa should be over there."
"Yes ma'am," he replied, doing as she asked. He found his father in front of large pile of sticks; he added his own bunch to it.
"Thank you, son," his pa said giving him a squeeze on the shoulder. Foster loved the attention. "Do well in school?"
"Yes, sir," he replied.
"Ditch your baby brother with Rosemary?"
"He didn't want to come outside," Foster replied with a shrug.
"Again?" His father frowned. "He hasn't been to the fields in days."
"Guess he really likes spending time with Janice," Foster said.
"Perhaps," his pa said. "Can you go gather up some more sticks, there should be small piles scattered throughout the orchard."
Nodding Foster ran off to help. As he did so he thought about what his father had said. It seemed like since the sandbox incident he had lost his shadow. Nathaniel used to be the first one to greet him when he got home, now his brother barely acknowledged him. Janice liked having an extra person to dress up, seemed like a winning situation to Foster for all involved. By the time the sticks had been gathered the sky was starting to darken.
"Thanks for your help," Grant said as he and Rosemary walked back with Foster to the house.
"You're welcome, sir," Foster said. He hadn't gotten dirty enough for a shower before eating but he did use the pump with Rosemary's help to wash up. As they were finishing they heard a yelp and loud barking coming from the chicken coop.
"Wonder if Wags managed to catch that damn weasel," Grant said. Foster followed him to where the commotion was. Wags appeared with something long and furry in his mouth.
"Good boy, Wags," Grant said patting the large dog on the head. "I hate those damn hen killing rats."
"Hate them?" A quiet voice asked.
Foster glanced over at where Nathaniel had appeared.
"Yeah," Grant said walking away and letting the dog do what he wanted with the dead critter. "They are just vermin that steal your chickens, useless …"
Foster was confused at the hurt look that flashed across Nathaniel's face as his brother turned and hurried back into the house.
Grant shrugged, "probably confused it with one of those cats running around, now those are another set of pests all together."
"That's enough, honey," Rosemary said with a laugh. "Foster, you're all cleaned up, why don't you head in, we'll be there shortly."
Inside Foster found his sisters playing with dolls but his brother was nowhere to be found, when he asked his ma mentioned he had ran upstairs. Foster found his brother sitting on his bed, his back against the wall and knees pressed up against him. He played with the chain around his neck. Across the room was Janice's bed, with toys scattered between. Nathaniel glanced up when he came to the door but then kept his eyes downcast.
"It wasn't a cat," Foster said. "Wags wouldn't kill the cats …"
"I know," Nathaniel said quietly.
Foster hung out at the door, something felt wrong. "It was just a stupid weasel …"
"You hate it?" Nathaniel asked, not looking up.
"Yeah," Foster said. "They eat our chickens, steal the eggs … I hate them."
"Wish they were dead?"
Foster frowned. "Well, I guess … I mean if they left our chickens alone I don't care what they did …" A choked sob escaped from between Nathaniel's legs and Foster startled, he took a step into the room.
"Go away," Nathaniel whispered.
Foster froze and then with a nod of his head went back downstairs. Dinner had been put on the table and he sat at his place. It was at the far end away from the boring talk of the adults.
"Nathaniel," his mother called up the stairs, "dinner time!"
The rest of the family, along with Grant and Rosemary gathered at the table. When Nathaniel didn't appear his father shouted again. A long moment passed and the adults looked at one another. Foster jumped up. "I'll go get him!" he said racing upstairs. He found Nathaniel where he had left him. "Dinner time," he said.
"Not hungry," Nathaniel replied.
"Going to make Pa mad if you don't come down," Foster pleaded. "Are you sick? If you are, Ma is going to make you drink that awful medicine of hers."
"Go away," Nathaniel said.
"Please come downstairs," Foster said, his confusion growing.
"GO AWAY!" Nathaniel shouted.
Foster took a step back and into the legs standing behind him. His father squeezed his shoulder and patted his head. "Go eat dinner, son," he said. Then he stepped into the bedroom and shut the door behind him.
That night Foster lay in bed but he didn't sleep. There was a storm outside and the wind blew against the windows. That wasn't what kept him awake, though. Nathaniel had never joined them for dinner nor had he seen him the rest of the evening. His ma and pa had taken turns sitting with his brother and at some point in the evening gotten him to drink some chicken broth which put their minds to ease. Lightning caused the room to light up for a moment. Foster kept expecting to feel a warm body crawl into bed beside him. Nathaniel hated thunderstorms and would often join him in bed on nights there were storms He had left his door open just in case and watched it, waiting for the small shadow to appear. The large clock downstairs chimed three times and Foster sighed.
Slipping out of bed he snuck into the room beside his, in the storm's light he could see Janice sleeping. Nathaniel's bed was empty. Frowning Foster checked around the room and his sister's bed but was pretty sure his brother wasn't in it. He glanced into the nursery but only found the twins. Quietly he made his way downstairs, and after making sure Nathaniel wasn't in the living space he crept to his parents' room. The door was closed, biting his lip Foster stood outside it for a long moment. Nathaniel was probably sleeping with them; he should go and get some sleep himself. He started to turn away but stopped, he wouldn't be able to rest unless he knew. Quietly opening the unlocked door he slipped inside.
He glanced at the sleeping forms in bed, he couldn't tell if Nathaniel was with them or not and snuck closer. He only counted two heads on the pillows, his heart started to race. Risk seemed trivial now and he walked over to his father and placed a hand on his arm. "Pa?" he whispered.
His father was instantly alert. "Foster?" he said, the boy could hear his mother sitting up.
"Where is Nathaniel?" Foster asked.
"Sleeping with Janice," his father said, "like you asked."
"He's not," Foster said. "I checked because he'd be scared of the storm … he's not in his bed …"
His father sat up and rubbed the top of his son's head like he does. "Your baby brother is about as tame as a new born kitten; he's probably just curled up somewhere." As he talked he pulled on his pants. "Let me light a lantern and we'll go find him, go back to sleep Norah I'm sure everything is fine."
As his mother settled back into bed, his father lit a lantern and ushered Foster out of the bedroom. In the warm glow of the light they went back upstairs and into the bedroom Nathaniel shared with his sister. His father found what Foster already knew an empty bed. Using the lantern his father looked under the bed and in the closet.
"Papa?" Janice said sleepily as she sat up.
"Sorry to wake you, my flower, we seemed to have misplaced your brother," his father said with a smile but Foster picked up an undertone in his voice. "Is Nathaniel sleeping with you?"
"No, Papa …"
"Okay, sweetie, go back to sleep, it is okay." His father said as he walked out to the hallway, Foster followed. Glancing back he noticed Janice sitting on her bed holding one of her dolls close. Next they did a search of Foster's room with the same result, and then it was on to the twins' room. Once again they turned up empty-handed; his father lost all pretense of being calm as he hurried down the stairs. His quick footsteps brought Ma to the living space; Foster watched the two adults exchange a look.
"Nathaniel!" His mother shouted.
His three sisters woken from their sleep were lined up along the banister. "Mama?" Janice said worried.
"Nathaniel, answer your mother," his father said loudly, "the game is over."
In the glow of the lantern Foster noticed something he hadn't seen before and he pointed. "Papa, the front door is open!"
- 6
- 7
- 8
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Brothers