Chapter Text
Today was not going to be Ian Lightfoot's day.
Actually, at this point in his life no day ever seemed to be Ian 'keep my head down and try not to be noticed' Lightfoot's ideal day. Obviously, he was in highschool, and so it was definitely impossible to avoid people, never mind avoiding people AND/OR a conflict of some kind.
Even in his own small house of three - sometimes four if his Mom's boyfriend came over-, rubbing shoulders was unavoidable.
But if the young elf had to choose between complications at school or between himself and his often overly dramatic brother who seemed to have a knack for making everything (and he meant EVERYTHING) worse, he would choose school complications any day.
Backing up a little...
It had only been this morning that he’d tried to get up, get ready, and slip out with as few bumps along the way as possible...but Barley would have no such thing.
“Good morrow, Sir Iandore of Lightfoot!”
Ian cringed slightly when a heavy hand landed firmly on his shoulder, resisting the motion as he struggled to butter a piece of WONDER LOAF bread for his breakfast, “H-hey, Barley. I’m just getting ready for school; got a few...tests.”
It came out lamely, but he was kindly trying to hint that he felt like being left alone this morning.
But Barley the overlooking king, ignorant and sweet - only eighteen, treated hints like any of his senior projects and ignored them, “Ah, I SEE! Well then tell me dear brother, which subjects are you battling today?”
He released his grip on him and instead leaned on the counter to watch with rapt attention.
Ian sighed, knowing his exasperation would do nothing to deter Barley - he shouldn’t have mentioned the tests, for Freyr’s sake. Turning and reaching for the jam, he mumbled out, “It’s midterms. I have Algebra, Geology, and tomorrow is Histor...y.”
Oh, crud. He shouldn’t have said that, either.
He turned first to find that the bread he’d been preparing was now half-munched by his big brother, who’s eyes were positively shining with excitement as he bubbled out, “When was THIS? I told you I’d help with ANY kind of history stuff!”
Ian found himself suddenly more bitter about his lost breakfast than this conversation. He squinted when a spray of crumbs attacked his face, “Barley, Mom says don’t talk with your mouth full!” He snapped, knowing he’d at least listen to Mom.
“Right, right, but c’mon and tell me!” Barley swallowed, grinning genuinely, “Ah man, you should’ve let me know a few days ago, I could help you ACE that thing, Ian!”
“It’s...it's the first thing tomorrow.” Ian sighed in defeat, starting on fixing up a new piece, “But I’m doing great myself, so don’t even worry about it! ...Please?”
Barley scoffed outrageously loudly, “I. Think. NOT. Nay, I refuse to stand idly by while I could be assisting my brother on his test quests!”
“...you really could thou-”
“No way!” Barley tapped at his head obnoxiously, and he leaned away, “Tell you what I’m gonna do - by the time you get home after school today, I’M gonna have a whole study set prepared for you in the way of…” He drummed on his shorts, walking around the counter before gesturing at his table of figurines (toys, really) in excitement, “Dad-da-DA! Quests of Yore!”
Ian had lost his appetite, “But that’s…”
“Historically accurate? You know it! Little brother, in only a few hours tonight you are gonna know so much about...uh…” He fished through Ian’s backpack, sitting traitorously by the door, for a few seconds before pulling out a book, “The, uh - the History of the fourth Realm - that you’re not gonna know what to do with yourself! That’s a Barely promise, right there.”
No, no, no, no. Ian wanted to just scurry out and come back to study by himself tonight; it was too easy to recognize this as just a poorly disguised attempt by his brother to get him to play this stupid game.
He cleared his throat, a big but fake smile stretching his face as his ears gently pulled back in agitation, “But, uh, Barley, don’t you have a thing with friends at like, six tonight?”
There, that should do it.
Barley merely shrugged, not picking up on his little brother’s feeling at all, “That’s like four hours at most if you get back home as soon as possible after school! No problem.”
Well, curse it all.
Noticing the time, Ian took a bite of his breakfast and hurried over to grab his backpack, “Okay, whatever, I gotta go.”
“Yes! Go forth and LEARN, young squire!” Ian just barely ducked out of a head pat on his way out and Barley laughed like it was some kind of friendly joke between brothers, “Alright, I’ll see YOU at two o’clock, and not a minute longer!”
“...Sure.” He sighed, picking up his pace to catch the bus.
Ian Lightfoot had to find a way out of this.
And that was why today he was going to make one of the worst decisions of his life.