Hello all! I've been working on this fan-fic for about a month, which is a rare thing for me to do... whoops! But to help me get it posted, I decided to post in chapters... once it is fully completed, I may create a PDF of the whole story as well as having it edited. = )

Feedback is welcome!! LOL!

My place beside you,

A. R.

The Beginning Of The Mending

By A. R. Befus (Bearer of the Flame)

Chapter 1

Heather stood rooted to the spot, her eyes glued to the terrifying scene above. Picket, her heroic, sometimes reckless brother, had stabbed Morbin’s one eye; but in the process of completely blinding him, the villainous bird had severed his arm. When he crashed into the Standing Stone, Heather’s heart lurched. She could see Smalls start to run to Picket’s aid. But her brother, with the last of his strength, leapt at Morbin. The murderous Blackhawk merely grasped the injured rabbit in his crude talons and tossed him away. Heather screamed.

As Picket descended, Smalls lunged at the cruel slaver of his people and met him in the air. The Starsword flashed and pierced the golden breastplate, then continued its fatal journey into the foe’s heart. Morbin let out a blood-curdling screech, flapped backwards, then began to fall. But Smalls was already running towards his love and his brother-in-arms.

Heather watched in agony as her brother continued his descent; as soon as he hit the water, she dove. She propelled herself deeper, desperately searching the grim, dark waters for her brother. Debris filled her blurred vision and her heart began to sink. But-there! Fear clutched her heart and she swam deeper, determined to reach her brother. At last, she reached him and wrapped her arm around his waist and kicked her feet, swimming to the surface. Her head emerged and she swallowed a mouthful of air, pulling her brother up further. Father was ready to plunge into the water but stopped when he saw that Heather ad Picket.

“Ropes! Quick!” He shouted, laying on the deck and reaching down to his daughter. Heather swam closer to the boat and clutched one of the thrown ropes, her other arm around her unconscious brother. Soon they were on the deck, dripping and exhausted. But Picket wasn’t moving. Fatigue overwhelmed her but Heather pushed it back. She sat up quickly and began to work on Picket, pumping his chest and back to get rid of the water he’d swallowed. His face was wet, and the water had washed away the blood and grime that stained him from battle. But his expression was one of sad peace.

“Please, Picket!” She whispered, pressing her ear against his chest. She sat up and looked at her brother, uncertain. She then looked up at her worried parents and Jacks who watched with evident dread. Heather turned and saw Smalls jump form the Standing Stone and land on the deck. He never broke stride and came to where the Longtreader’s stood gathered, kneeling next to Heather beside Picket. She met his strained gaze, then looked down to her motionless brother. She began to pump his chest again.

“Picket, please!” She whispered as tears started to roll down her damp face. She felt Smalls hand on her back, his expression much like hers. Then, so suddenly, Picket coughed up water and his chest rose and fell. Heather’s jaw dropped as did the rest of her family’s. She touched her brother’s face tenderly, the tears flowing freely.

“Bring the boats to shore!” A voice shouted. Heather turned and could see a cluster of rabbits gathered above on land that had not been impacted by the flood. The boat began to move towards the shore and Heather began to recognize some faces. “Emma!” She called, struggling to her tired feet. As the boat neared the shore, rabbits aboard began to prepare. Some helped pick up the slumped form of Dote while Heather lifted Picket’s limp torso, Smalls helping her lift him up so that he was supported by their shoulders. Emma didn’t wait for the plank to be laid for boarding and un-boarding. She leapt onto the deck and replaced Smalls’ position.

“Let’s take him to the palace!” She instructed as the gangplank was finally placed. Heather and Emma quickly made their way to the partially damaged palace with the prince and the Longtreader’s following close. Once inside, Emma motioned to a ready room and they laid Picket onto the bed. The princess pulled her satchel open and began to root through it. “Heather, we need to stitch his wounds quick.” She instructed, already beginning to work on his shoulder. Heather nodded and searched her own satchel for some thread and a needle. The girls set to work on the injured hero, hardly paying attention to the worried audience that stood rooted to the spot. Only after they finished treating Picket’s wounds did they hear the sounds of bitter partings and sweet reunions outside the palace.

Heather leaned against the wall and sighed, inhaling deeply. So much action! Could this pause be real? She blinked and looked up, smiled, and rushed at Emma. They hugged, saying nothing for a while. When they pulled away, they both wore weary smiles.

“Oh, Heather! It’s really you!” Emma exclaimed, squeezing her friend’s hands. Heather gave a weak laugh.

“Of course! I couldn’t let you have all the fun!” She teased. Emma grinned and turned to everyone in the room, giving them all a smile and a nod. When she saw Smalls, the brother she didn’t know she had, she smiled and tears filled her eyes. Shyly, she stepped towards him. She hadn’t known he was her brother until a few weeks before. Smalls smiled too and they embraced. When they pulled away, Emma laughed.

“Where’s my manners? You all are exhausted and there’s so much to do!” She ran out quickly and returned a few minutes later.

“There are rooms available for you all. You all need to rest before anything more is done.” Emma announced. Everyone nodded sullenly, but Heather frowned.

“I… I think I will stay with Picket for a while.” She protested. Mother stepped towards her and met her daughter’s gaze. Heather burst into tears and Sween wrapped her in her arms.

“Don’t worry, Love. He will be fine. You need a rest too.” She spoke, soothing her with soft, gentle words. Heather’s sobs gradually stopped and she wiped her eyes, slightly embarrassed at her outburst. Emma smiled at her.

“Heather, I’ll come and get you after you’ve rested, if you would like.” She promised. Heather nodded and slowly followed the others out the door. She stopped in the doorway and looked back. Her Mother sat next to Picket and leaned over him to kiss his brow before following her family. Heather turned and examined the sights before her.

A vast foyer, though rattled, looked quite lovely; a grand staircase to her right leading up to other levels of the palace, and many doors and windows lined the walls. She then turned to the gathered group of rabbits and began to recognize faces.

“Mrs. Weaver!” She exclaimed, running to the elderly doe. Maggie Weaver smiled and wiped her wet eyes, hugging Heather. When she pulled away, Maggie returned to her husband’s side, clutching his arm with both of her hands. Edward looked down at his wife with a tender expression, tears of joy welling in his eyes and a happy smile on his face.

“Dear Heather, the Mending has begun!” Mrs. Weaver exclaimed. Heather smiled and looked around. There was lord Blackstar, a battered Cole and weary looking Heyna; an injured Jo Shanks, A tattered Heyward and other’s she didn’t know or recognize. Heather looked around for Helmer, Picket’s mentor. Or uncle Wilfred, if she dared to hope that he still lived. Her head began to swim as countless thoughts flew at her at once. She noticed through her swirling vision that everyone bowed to the prince, the heir of Natalia. She felt herself kneel in a bow and then staggered to her feet; then a protective arm around her waist. It was Smalls.

“We all should rest before we do anything.” He suggested softly, smiling at her through a tired expression. Heather nodded and wiped her tears, following Emma and the others towards the staircase and their designated rooms.

I also apologize about the format... still trying to figure things out!