Under His Mother's Wing - PewDiepie Fanfic Ch. 4

Chapter 4

The second the door slammed shut, Isis's anger redirected itself towards her sons. Stephano and Gonzales shrank into the floor as their mother glared fiercely down at them, the gold in her eyes flashing like fire.

"What did I tell you about playing with those things?!" She raised her voice at them, her words echoing around the room again. "When I tell you two not to do something, there's a reason for it!"

"We're sorry." Stephano lowered his head, not wanting to look his mother in the eye.

"You two do not comprehend the amount of trouble you're in!" Isis continued in a fluster. "You deliberately disobeyed me; and now, because of it, your father wants you for…"

Isis paused suddenly, holding her head in her hands. Stephano and Gonzales looked at each other and then back at their parent, wondering to themselves if something was wrong. Small sounds came from Isis as she slowly began to sink to her knees, the adrenaline of the past few minutes finally catching up to her. She covered her face with her hands and began to cry softly, not wanting her sons to see her in such a state.

Gonzales, normally one to shy away from such emotionally charged moments, slowly stood up and tip-toed to his mother's side. He lightly tapped her on the shoulder, hoping to stir her from her depression.

"Mommy?" Gonzales piped up in a shaking voice. Isis was startled from her crying, having been oblivious of her son beside her. Her black eye paint was running down her golden cheeks in thin dark rivers. "Mommy, what's wrong?"

Isis sniffled and quickly tried to regain her composure. She wiped the tears from her eyes, only smearing the dripping paint further across her face. "Nothing, sweetie." She forced a smile. "Mommy's fine."

"Are you angry at us?" Gonzales asked, bracing for the answer.

Isis gulped down the rest of her tears. Whatever anger she had felt towards her sons had been drowned out by them. "No, Mommy's not angry." She smiled half-heartedly. "How's your shoulder?" She took Gonzales's arm in her hand to examine his wound.

Gonzales shrugged. "It's better now." He said, just glad to see his mother back to her old self.

Stephano wasn't sure of what he'd witnessed when his parents had argued, but whatever it was, he wanted to know. If it was important enough to make his mother cry in front of them, it was important enough for him to know as well. "What did Daddy want us for?" He asked, almost afraid his mother would be angry at him for asking, or worse, would start crying again.

Isis looked upset at her son's question, but to Stephano's relief she didn't break down again. She was silent for a few minutes, but then motioned for her children to come closer. "Come here." She said solemnly. "There's a story a want to tell you."

Once both her children were seated comfortably at her sides, just like they were for every other story time, Isis took a very deep breath. She held it, delaying her words from coming as long as possible, until she let it out in a long, drawn-out sigh.

"A long time ago," She slowly began, carefully choosing each word just before she spoke it. "Mommy and Daddy were both part of…a very bad group of people."

"Who were they?" Gonzales asked.

"They're called the Barrels." Isis answered. "They've had the castle under their control for a very long time."

"But I thought Alexander ran the castle." Stephano raised his eyebrow, a fact he had believed all his life suddenly about to change.

"Alexander doesn't really know we're here." Isis explained. "He's really only here when a visitor comes to Brennenburg; so he's in charge of the castle, yes, but not of us."

Stephano didn't really understand his mother's explanation, but he nodded as if he did.

"We residents used to live quietly among ourselves," Isis continued, her eyes in a far-off stare of recollection. "Every group had their place and their purpose; the rocks, the pigs, the chairs…we all paid no mind to each other." Isis smiled down at her sons and played delicately with the thin strands of their hair that peeked out from under their hijab. "I was the only Egyptian statue around, until I had you boys."

Isis chuckled as she looked upon her sons' Egyptian features, knowing full well that they both had been speaking in their father's French accent since learning to talk. The topic at hand re-entered her thoughts, and her smile slowly dissolved. "But," She said in a monotone voice. "The Barrels, because they had the most members of any of the groups, thought they deserved to be the ones in power. They began using fear and violence to get their way, and soon all of the groups were too afraid to oppose them."

Isis checked to make sure her sons were still paying attention, then swallowed her shaking breath and continued. "Mommy joined them when she was little."

"Why?" Stephano inquired.

Isis closed her eyes tightly before opening them again. "Because…" She faltered. "She was new at the castle, and she wanted to be respected by the other residents." Isis looked each of her sons in the eye. "But, she was wrong!" She emphasized. "She never should have gotten involved with them."

"Why?" Gonzales echoed his brother's earlier question.

Isis's eyes gleamed, as if a haze of tears were welling in them. "Because I put you boys in harm's way." She said, trying to stabilize her voice. "I left the Barrels after I had you, and now that you're both older, they want you to take my place."

Isis put her arms around her sons, a few stray tears rolling down from her eyes. She held them silently against her, assuring herself that they were still there with her. "I don't expect you to understand," She said softly. "But please promise me that you'll never pick up your swords again. No matter what Daddy tells you, no matter what anyone else tells you…you won't touch them again."

Stephano felt his mother's tight embrace around him, and felt her body quake as she held back the urge to sob. His eyes travelled from his mother's face, down to Gonzales's bloody shoulder (the injury he had caused). He may have been lying the first time he promised to never touch the weapons his father had given him, but he had now seen the true nature behind them. He didn't want to hurt his brother; he didn't want to hurt anyone.

"I promise." Stephano's words were no longer empty. Deep down he swore to himself to never touch a weapon again in his life, and he had every intention in the world to keep it. On the other side of his mother, Gonzales nodded silently in agreement.

Isis let out another sigh. "Thank you, boys." She said with a bittersweet smile. She kissed each of them on the forehead as the late afternoon shadows stretched across the floor.

"Mommy…I'm tired." Gonzales peeped, gently pulling on his mother's dress to get her attention.

"I'll bet you are." Isis grinned. "You've both had…a very long day."

The statue goddess herded her sons to their blankets underneath the stairs. Cocooning themselves in the soft cotton sheets, the twins huddled together for warmth as they settled down for an early bedtime. Gonzales was careful not to lie on his bad arm. As Stephano rested his head on his brother's torso, he couldn't help but shiver from the cold tile floor against his body. The large, polished room was almost always chilly, and the thin blankets didn't provide much comfort.

Suddenly, a welcome relief covered the shivering young boy and his brother. Isis, kneeling beside her children, gently draped one of her painted wings over them; the golden feathers sheltered them from the cold, just as it had done since they were newborns. As Stephano slowly drifted into slumber, he heard his mother humming the hypnotic melody of an Egyptian lullaby, the same tune that had lulled him and Gonzales to sleep since the day they were born.