Red Queen One-Shots

Fireworks

A/N:

Arthur POV - please read again "The power in our veins" to get to know him. In this story, Clara, is 14 and Arthur is 13. And Gabriel is the Mare x Cal child from "Spark of Life". I hope you'll enjoy this.

29.09.335

"My first memory are fireworks," Clara said. "I stretched my hand out to them, to the orange lights blooming in the clear night sky with each new boom. I thought I could touch and feel them, if I stretched enough, got high enough. I sat on on Mama's shoulders, you know? She whispered, 'Clara, look and remember. For Daddy as well.' So I did, I suppose." She laughed. "It was autumn, like today, thus a cold night. Mama felt warm against me, as did my clothes, but cold pricked my face and hands.

"Sometimes the booms startled and scared me, because the rockets were shot in intervals, and some jerks ignited firecrackers, too. It was the prime minister's inauguration, so an official feast, but I like to imagine Mare and Cal lighting the rockets with their sparking abilities - a little drunk - and made a competition out of it." This time, I giggled as well.

"However," Clara went on, "when I was frightened, I changed my position, so Mama had to fight to keep her hold on me. But she laughed about it, as nothing could've ruined that night for her. Thus I reached out again and really believed I felt starlight on my hand.

"And for a long time, I thought only fireworks were real starlight. It happened that I was out in the dark, and Mama, Ada, or Mare said, 'oh, look at the stars, Clara,' and I was all, 'no, no, no, those aren't the real stars!' "

I couldn't help laughing out loud, and given the effort Clara'd put into telling that story, I believed it was her intention. Her smile was a beam as well, like the sunlight in the autumnal woods around us.

„Seriously?" I asked, once I'd tempered my laughter. She nodded gravely.

"And I painted these firework-stars often, when I was little. They didn't notice! Mama thought I just drew the stars a little bigger, and why shouldn't I?" She sighed. "Well, I realized the truth after some time – don't ask, Arthur, it was very awkward. A good lesson, though. The real life can never compare to the memories, but they make you long for more. As my mother does, and I understand her very well.

"Now, what about you?"

"Excuse me?" I dodged her.

"You asked me for mine, now tell me your first memory."

"I don't know." I lied, then turned away and looked at Daisy instead, Clara's big, white-grey dog that was curled against me, sitting with us on the pick-nick blanket in the clearing.

"Arthur, that's unfair." Clara sneered.

"Why did you invite me here?" I retorted, facing Clara again and she frowned at me, obviously stunned.

"Umm ... I wanted company. Here aren't other guests of my age ... " she shrugged.

I flashed her a doubtful expression. "Since when do you have problems with talking to anyone?" In truth, I was dead-serious beneath my mocking tone. This was her little cousin Gabriel Barrow's third birthday and a sliver of panic rose in me along with the idea that she might know that Gabriel was my cousin as well.

Instead she hmphed. "All they told me was to keep an eye on the birthday boy. Who is more work than company." She rose. "Where is that thunderbold kid, actually? Gabriel?!!" she yelled, turning left and right. I noticed by the change in her stance when she located him.