The Shiver Storm - (23 parts) - COMPLETE.

[PaperThings]

Hiya! So this is the second story I've posted, and the first original one, so it might be a little rough. It's based on a larger plot idea I have, with the same characters, and it's a bit scifi-ish. Just bear with me though, and hopefully the characters will explain everything well enough themselves .

Part 1

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Amalie couldn't keep up. It didn't matter how fast her legs moved, or much adrenaline shot through her veins, she was simply not as fast as he. "Kerr! Wait!" Desperation held her with sticky persistence, globs of mud clinging to her shoeless feet.

"No," he shouted back. "We can't stop running!" Even so, his dark eyes sought her out. He turned, pausing for a fraction of a second. "Amalie," he said, voice softening. "I'm sorry, but we have to keep going. You've seen what happens to the people who just give up."

Her gaze flickered from the sodden ground to the black sky, eyes refusing to meet his. She couldn't bear the idea of disappointing him. Ever since they'd lost their parents, he'd been so patient. He'd done everything he could to ensure their safety - her safety. And now, this 'everything' included running away, it seemed. The only way to survive, Kerr said, was to evade the Hunters as long as they could. After all, that's what you got for being a vision-child.

"I can't..." she gulped, locking her arms around herself. "I can't even see through the rain." She fought her protesting insides, trying to stay upright. If she stopped focusing for even a moment, she was sure she'd fall over.

Kerr stepped back towards her, now concerned. He brushed her chin with the scabbed back of his hand, forcing her to look at him. "Do you need me to carry you?" he asked.

She shook her head, denying the instinctive desire to say yes. She wanted to be off her feet more than anything in the world, but even her heroic brother was not strong enough to carry her far. Not as far as they needed to go, anyway.

He nodded, looking so incredibly sorry that it tugged at Amalie's chest. "We'll get you another pair of shoes when we reach the next town; I promise."

She shifted her neck to a different angle, trying to compensate for the eight inch difference in their heights. "We don't have money Kerr."

"No, but I'll get some." He turned to her fiercely, taking both her hands in his. "I'll get a job."

"I thought you said we have to keep running." Her glance was finely measured, informing him that she was not as blind as he'd thought. Or hoped, perhaps. There was no way for them to settle down anytime soon.

He leaned forward, kissing her forehead in the hopes of offering some kind of comfort. "Come on, Amalie. Let's keep going." There were times when she would have fought, tried to make him tell her more, but this wasn't one of them. The reality was, she was only thirteen. He was nineteen, and he knew far more than she did. Whether it was easy or hard or altogether heartbreaking, she had to accept the fact that deliberation was no longer an option. If they wanted to survive - at all - they had to keep going.

He held her hand after that, pulling her along when she couldn't keep pace. Amalie found it was slightly less taxing this way, their touching skin helping to warm one another, but she still found herself exhausted. "Please," she begged, after another hour had gone by. "We haven't seen them since noon, Kerr." She blinked back miserable tears. "I don't want to keep going." She dropped his hand, sinking to the merciful ground.

"Amalie..." he whispered, "You know we have to. Come on, please get up. That mud'll get you sick."

"I don't care," she replied, petulant teardrops mixing with the rain on her freckled skin. "If I get sick, then maybe I'll die and I won't have to do this anymore."

He grabbed her shoulders, hoisting her up and pulling her against him. "Don't you dare say that, Amalie." His voice rose, reaching a level that would have alerted any nearby Hunters. Apparently he was just as far from caring about it as she was, he just couldn't be the firs to give in. He shook her, prompting further tears to stream from her eyes. "Amalie!" He snarled at in rage, then promptly let go of her. Simultaneously, they fell back to the ground, deflated.

"Please," he said, infinitely more gently. "You have to understand. I can't even..." He shook his head, uselessly running his fingers through his savaged auburn hair. How long had it been since they'd had a real bath?

"I'm sorry," she replied pitifully, sniffling as the last of her tears dried up. "I just don't like it when you make me go at night." They looked up together, finding the black, unforgiving state of the sky. There was not one star to be found, at least where they were standing. "Please," she persisted, taking advantage of his quiet moment of thought. "Can't we sleep for just a little while? If they come at us here, we'll hear them and wake up."

"We might not. They have planes." He was reluctant, but she could see he was growing tired as well. "And even so, where would we sleep? We can't just stay underneath a tree trunk like this. There are other things in the woods, you know. Animals." They both sat in silence then, searching desperately for an answer.

In a strange, contrived form of fate, they got one.

"Heh'shhuh! Hehshht!"

Amalie gave a little shriek, springing to her feet. "What was that?" She rushed into her brother's arms, looking up at him with terror.

"I - I don't know," he answered honestly, pushing her back so he could regain some of his bearings. "I think..." He furrowed his brow, thinking.

"Hekshuh! Heksht! Ix'kshuh!"

"Oh," Kerr said, straightening up. His chapped lips swiveled to the left of his jaw, his expression baffled. "I think it was a sneeze," he said softly.

Amalie grabbed his arm with all her strength, clinging to him in fear. "Is it a hunter?" she asked, eyes wide.

"No," he replied softly, taking tentative steps forward. "A Hunter would have heard us and... and come running. This..."

"Huhkshoo!" There was a certain profound volume to this one, almost a note of fear. Amalie tilted her head to the side, her own worries converted to curiosity.

"I think it came from over there," she said, pointing to a crevice in the line of trees. "Look!" Sure enough, a distinct figure lay somewhere there, hidden by the bow of branches. "Well?" she said, responding to Kerr's silence. "Shouldn't we go see who it is?"

"I don't know that it's a good idea," he replied, shaking his head. "What if someone's really ill? We don't need you getting sick," he said fiercely, clearly alluding to their earlier argument.

But it was too late. Amalie had already edged forward, eyes taut with the utmost fascination. Lacking the proper energy needed to dissuade her, Kerr followed.

"Look," she repeated, this time in a hushed tone.

Curled in the valley between two trees, lay a boy. He was certainly a teenager, perhaps Kerr's age at best. His clothes were torn and dirtied, though there was something odd about them. It seemed, at one point, that they had been respectable. A suit, even. Torn and splattered with water, caught in the buttons of the once-white shirt, was the remnants of a tie. However, it was the boy's face that caught the most attention. Unlike Kerr and Amalie's pale skin, the boy's face was decidedly pink. His cheeks had a ruddy undertone to them, and his overgrown mop of hair was darker than his new discoverers'. He had elegant, classical features, confirming Kerr's nagging instinct about the clothes. Before he'd gone and fallen asleep in the storming woods, who had this boy been?

"He does look sick," Amalie said, sympathy oozing into her voice. She was right too. There was something off about the boy's expression. His eyelids kept fluttering from open to shut, making it impossible to tell if he was asleep or not. He kept muttering too, something incoherent about the rain. She watched him with care, recoiling in surprise as his pretty features contracted to his delicate, sloped nose. "Heh.. hehkshuh!" Amalie raised her hands to block the abundance of spray from hitting her face, and turned to her brother. "He is sick," she said softly, looking sad. "What do we do Kerr?"

Kerr shook his head, at a loss for what to do. This was one of those times where he wished his parents were around to make the decisions.

---

I promise there will be more sneeze next time, don't worry. Thanks for reading!

[Zane]

haha! so good!interesting plot and the story was just.......... and the sneezes were....... just........ can't wait for more!

[Marceline]

This is really, really good.

[obsessed]

Oooh, a fresh plot. Me like.

[Sawyer]

You're a fantastic writer, and your plot is incredibly original. I love the characters (your descriptions were excellent, and OH MY GOD the boy they found.. the way you wrote that... was perfect) and the spellings of the sneezes as well. Just... everything, dude. Seriously. I can't wait for the next installment; this is super yummy.

[PaperThings]

Thanks for all of the nice comments ! Hope you guys like this part as well.

Part 2

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Kerr stammered uselessly for a moment, gaping as his sister took the boy's hand. "Amalie, you shouldn't touch him," he hissed.

She looked up, lower lip protruding as she pouted. "What if he's in a coma?" she asked, raising her eyebrows high. "We can't just leave him here."

"He is not in a coma," Kerr replied, shaking his head at her. He'd forgotten her melodramatic side, somewhere along the actual drama that had followed them this month.

"How do you know?"

"I... he's not our problem, Amalie," Kerr said gently. "And if you want to find a place to sleep, we better do it quickly. We only have a few hours, at best."

She shook her head, stubbornly curling into the sick boy's side, and Kerr wondered where his shy little girl had gone. He did remember this about her though, back from they went to school. Amalie had always been quiet, pleased to fade into the scenery, until someone needier than her came along. Kerr nearly smiled, in spite of everything, realizing what a puzzling person she was. There were so many things he'd forgotten about her little quirks, due to the recent stress they'd encountered. In his way, he was glad for this excuse to remember them.

"You could get sick," he insisted, trying to pull her away from him.

"Ekkshuh!"

Two pairs of eyes returned to the boy's face. His eyelashes fluttered like birds wings, beating against his cheeks as his eyelids struggled to pull shut completely. His thick, red lips had parted, a hitching sound coming from the small space them. "Heh... heh... heh'heh..." The long, dark lashes continued to beat his skin, pulling desperately against his lids. "Heh'kshoo!" They finally succeeded.

"Bless you," Amalie amended, out of habit.

Unable to help it, Kerr rolled his eyes. "He can't hear you, Amalie."

"You don't know that."

"Well, it's not as if he's awake."

Amalie frowned, sitting up. She placed her small hands on the boy's arm. "You can't sneeze when you're asleep, can you?"

"Well, I don't think he's exactly awake..."

Again, they stared at the boy. At a closer glance, it was clear he was shuddering, shivering against the freezing cold. "Aw, look," Amalie said sadly. "He's soaked. He must have gotten caught in the rain, like us." She glared at her brother on the last word, and he shook his head, mystified. Was this really the timid little girl who'd was so afraid, so unable to bear this life of theirs? She'd been bloated with courage, it seemed, and he couldn't make sense of what had done it.

"That's not rain," Kerr said, crouching down beside the two of them. "That's sweat. Look." He brushed the very edge of his finger against the boy's forehead, drawing the sticky beads away. "He's burning," he muttered.

"Oh no," Amalie replied, almost comical in her panicked state. "He has a fever?" She bent over the boy, placing her ear against his chest. "He's still breathing, at least," she commented, relieved.

Kerr bit his lip, so tempted to tease her like he'd done when they were younger. "You didn't notice that with the sneezing and loud breathing?"

"Oh yeah, he is breathing loudly, isn't he?" Amalie asked, ignoring the jibe.

"Well, that's what colds do to you," Kerr replied.

"Hey," Amalie said, rising and placing her hands on her hips. "If it's only a cold, why wouldn't you let me touch him?"

Kerr sighed, the last of his patience dribbling down the drain. "I don't know if it's a cold, okay? You shouldn't touch him, just in case," he said slowly, emphasizing every word.

"Huhkshuhh," the boy sneezed softly, a shower of spray hitting his muddy, rain-soaked shirt. His eyelids remained closed over, the skin around them pinched in agitation. Even in his sleep - or whatever this semi-conscious state was - he looked miserable. His skin seemed pull backwards, almost, tenderly pink nostrils twitching desperate for release. "Hukshoo! Kushhuh! Kshoo!" They burst straight forth from his mouth, lips opening and closing automatically as if mechanical. Saliva trickled down his chin, and Amalie moved to wipe it with her sleeve as his breath began to hitch again. She paused, waiting for him to be finished. "Huhhh..hehh'hehh..." All his air tightened its hinges, shrinking and squirming somewhere between his chest and lips. Each hitch sounded like a panicked, terrified gasp. "Hehh'hehhshoo!"

"Do not wipe his nose Amalie," Kerr said, eyes narrowing with a stony authority. She had moved forward again, reaching for his moistened face.

"Well, what do you want us to do?" she asked, her voice rising. Kerr glanced around, nervous they'd be heard (and promptly ignoring his earlier outburst), but the trees covered them in an illusion of safety. "We can't just leave him here!"

"Why not? Amalie! He isn't our responsibility!"

She looked furious, arms flailing backward as she exploded. "So you just want to leave him here? He's sick, Kerr! He could die!" Her eyes were wide, beseeching him, and he looked away to avoid their power.

"Amalie, you don't even know who he is!" With a vivid pop, his mind plunged back through a memory. She'd been eight, he fourteen, and she had found a wounded dog. She'd wanted to keep it, heal it, and she and her mother had had this exact same argument. Of course, it ended up being moot anyway, due to Kerr's allergies, but still. After all these years, Amalie had retained her desire to cure the sick. With wry dread to their current situation, he wondered if they'd make money best if she became a doctor.

"You don't care about anyone but yourself Kerr!" Amalie screamed, as loudly as her lungs would allow. She knew perfectly well, and with a heavy-handed pang of guilt, that this was untrue.

"Of course I do! That's why -" Kerr's voice was so loud, they barely heard the whimper that interrupted them.

Amalie turned and dropped to her knees, peering over at the boy's face. Slowly, very slowly, his eyelids peeled back from her face. They must be sore from all that sneezing, Amalie thought, her young imagination wild.

Now that they were open, it was clear the boy's eyes were a stormy gray. They matched his nose, a rim of pink, irritated skin around their edges. He sniffled noisily, went a mortified shade of crimson, and then tried to sit up. "Who... are you?" he asked, his voice barely stronger than a croak.

Amalie rushed to his side, her hands going to his his forehead. If possible, he went a darker shade of red. "I'm - "

"We're just travelers," Kerr interrupted, preventing her from supplying her real name. "We found you here."

"You're sick," Amalie said, as if he was unaware.

"I know," he muttered. He seemed to realize he'd been sneezing in his sleep, and turned away to wipe his nose and chin. When he turned back, his eyes were decidedly focused on the mud floor.

"What happened to you?" Amalie asked, her curiosity getting the best of her.

"I - " For a moment, he seemed to debate the idea of telling them, and then he went ahead with it. "I was trying to find my way home," he said, speaking in the slow, careful sort of manner that indicated he was hiding something.

"Oh. Well, how did you end up here?"

"I..." he ran a hand through his thick, black locks, looking thoroughly horrified by it's dirt-filled state. "They'd kidnapped me, the Hunters, and... I don't know," he shook his head, clearing his throat. "I guess I must have been sick when I escaped? I'm not sure. Well, I was trying to get home and - " he stopped abruptly, to cough. They sounded more like rumbles though, deep and filled with the moistures in his chest. On the last one, he paused, face going nearly blank. "Hehh..." he bent at the spine, his flaring nostrils going to his cupped hands. "Hehkkshoo!" Once again, he looked horrified. "Sorry," he murmured.

Amalie cocked her head, confused. "It's okay," she replied cheerfully, "Go on." Kerr was listening too now, ever since the comment about the Hunters.

"Anyway, it started to rain," he continued. He sounded more deeply congested now, throwing off the sound of a few of his words. "And... I don't know. I was pretty soaked by the time I hid here." He shifted positions, then grimaced and gripped his head.

"You have a fever," Amalie said quietly. She scooted over by his head, laying her palm flat against his forehead. He looked apprehensive for a moment, then relaxed when he realized she didn't mind.

All at once, Kerr's desires to keep the boy at a distance seemed to disappear. The Hunters comment had hooked him, apparently, and Amalie secretly wondered if it was because he felt lonely as well. They had each other, it was true, but sometimes that was all the worse. If they were to lose one another, ever, they would be all alone. It felt refreshing to see someone - anyone - else.

"We're running from the Hunters too," he replied. "Are..." he bit his lip, rushing into the next words. "Are you a vision-child too?"

"A vision-child?" he gaped, startled. Precognitives were rare; he had thought the Hunters destroyed nearly every one of them. "You're... the two of you are vision child?" He looked from one to the other, eyes frantic with surprise. He was so distracted, he just barely managed to stifle the sudden sneeze. "Heh'ghnt!" His fist seemed to snatch it away, his graceful features returning from their crumpled position.

"Was that a sneeze?" Amalie asked.

"Uh... yeah," the boy answered, unsure whether which embarrassed him more: the sneeze or his constantly red cheeks.

"Oh, then bless you," she said, contentedly stroking his hair. He bit his lip, realizing for the first time that she was easily several years younger than he.

"Anyway, are you a vision-child?" Kerr interjected.

"No... I'm..." he hesitated, eventually deciding to give in and tell them. After all, revealing to be one of the prophecy keepers was a big deal; they could easily die, if he ever told his family. The thought of it, of destroying the innocent girl who cared for him with such affection, made his stomach nearly as sick as his nose and throat. "I live up at Ereshirk." He waited for their reactions with silent anticipation.

Amalie gasped; Kerr merely stared. "You're... a prince?" he asked.

[PaperThings]

Sorry, when reading it over again, I realized there are a lot grammar mistakes and such . I'll fix 'em once I can edit my posts.

[starpollen]

I am very intrigued by this universe - I'm dying for more information about what a 'vision-child' is, who the Hunters are, and the significance of being a prince. Do continue!

[obsessed]

Oooh, intricate plot building along with a cutie. Me likes. 'specially the brother sister relationship and that cutie.

[Sawyer]

You are absolutely brilliant. A Prince? Could he BE any hotter? Even without the sneezing, I would love this. But becaue you write sickness so well, it's a massive bonus. I love this so much. I swear you could be a professional.

[PaperThings]

Here is part three! *squee* Thank you so much for all of the wonderful feedback . It made my day.

Part 3

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The boy nodded, eyes carefully following a beetle imbedded in the mud. From his onlookers' viewpoint, he appeared to be almost ashamed. "Yes."

"Then why are you running away from the Hunters?" Amalie asked. She had shimmied away from her position by his head, sitting instead beside her brother.

"Because -" he paused, waiting impatiently. He ached to sneeze as he'd done when he was alone, or at least rub away the prickly sensation in his nose, but those things were two of the many things they warned against in etiquette class. Besides, his own easily-embarrassed conscience couldn't begin to consider the other way. He felt the air in his mouth spiral into a tight coil, snapping back like a cut string. "Hehshnn!" His cheeks flaming, he pinched his nose shut as tightly as he could. "Nnghi! Hehshhnn! Hahhh..." He breathed out in sharp gasps, panting to recover from the stifles.

"What are you doing?" Amalie asked, baffled. She'd never seen anyone make those kinds of sounds before.

"What do you mean what am I doing?" he asked. He rubbed mercilessly at his gray eyes, which felt damp and warm due to his increased temperature.

"Just now."

"Sneezing," he replied with a hint of indignance, just as confused by her misunderstanding as she was by his methods.

"That's a sneeze?"

He nodded, frowning at her.

"But you held your nose," she went on, refusing to let it go. "Why do you sneeze like that?"

"I..." Not having any logical answer, he gave the most honest one. "I don't know." He sniffed then, hoping the palace's etiquette council would understand the exception to the rules, and felt much relieved as the liquid in his nose receded.

"It looks painful," she said.

"It's not," he replied at once, even though it could be. Especially when he was sick like this, and he couldn't do it properly.

Kerr folded his arms, cutting across them both. "Why are you running away from the Hunters?" he asked, repeating his sister's earlier question.

"Oh, well, you see... they - they may have kidnapped me."

"May have?"

"They - Hehnhgnh!" he stifled, right into his left palm. "They did," he corrected himself.

"Why?" Amalie asked, her eyes wide. She'd heard stories about kidnappings, when her parent's warned her not to wander too far from the village square.

"Because of by father," he went on. He gaped slightly at the sound of congestion in his voice, his inability to speak properly, and sniffed as hard as he could until it went away. "But I knew he wouldn't get me back with ransom," he said, his voice hard. "I have four brothers and two sisters, and if he planned to pay for each one of us, he'd never have enough money to govern well."

"You mean this has happened before?'

"Not with the Hunters, no, but with individuals. Ones who think they can pull it off. They rarely do, though," he added.

"Rarely?" Kerr asked, brow furrowed. They may not have received much news in their small outlet of a town, but kidnappings seemed as if they'd be a national affair.

"They killed my youngest brother," the boy replied, his voice going the color of his eyes.

Silence descended, neither Kerr nor Amalie sure about how to proceed. Until their parents had been murdered, their town ripped apart, they'd never faced much tragedy in their lives. They were unused to the motions of reacting to it.

Perhaps luckily, the boy's eyelids flickered once again. Up and down they danced, caught in the net of natural occurrance. His posture stiffened, head bowed and hands raised. In this trapped position, it was hard to imagine he'd ever been a prince at all. He looked so incredibly helpless, and yet... not so. Because he still wouldn't let himself sneeze completely; he still clutched the rope of control, only releasing it as much as he needed to. "Hehshnih! Hehnnght! Heh - heh ghnn!"

An overpowering shudder raced down through his lean body, furious at him for not letting go. Again, he shivered in the cold, every inch of him begging to continue. He wouldn't though, feeling too stubbornly embarrassed to act like a simple human. Instead, he panted, each false start taunting his tortured nose. "Heh - heh - heh'heh'heh' - heh ghnn!" he finally let out, using both hands to clamp his nostrils shut. Sweat dribbled from his temples, his fevered body exhausted from the effort. He shuddered again, each piece of him reeling from the suppression. It didn't matter whether he was wearing rags and lying soaked in a heap of mud: he was still a prince. He would not allow himself the necessary indulgences that other people got.

"Bless you," Amalie said, glaring at him.

"What?" he asked, impatient. Even so, he blushed again, his warm face igniting completely. He did not like being watched as he sneezed.

"You don't - " She shook her head, deciding to be tactful. "Never mind."

"What - hih -" But he pinched his nose, driving the sensation away completely. "What are your names?" Proud of getting through the sentence without any indication of illness, he snaked his arms around his middle. Worse than the sneezing and sniffling, perhaps, were the tedious mixtures of chill and fever. He shivered, miserably cold, and felt simultaneously ready to combust. It was confusing, not to mention painful.

Amalie deferred to her brother, deciding to make up for the fact that she'd insisted they take this detour.

"I'm Kerr," he answered, sighing. At this point, he trusted the boy. Besides, even if he wasn't trustworthy, he was obviously ill. He couldn't do any harm to them. "My sister's name is Amalie."

"I'm Martin," the boy replied. He shook both their hands, and they felt the clamminess of his skin.

"Martin? Aren't - aren't you the one in line to be King?" Kerr asked, caught off guard.

Martin tried his best to smile. "No, that's my brother Marcel. I know, it's confusing. We all have names that begin with the same letter."

"Well, also, we don't know much besides what we read in the paper," Kerr replied.

"Oh."

"Anyway," Kerr said, deciding to get to the point. "You want to get home, right?"

"Of course," Martin answered softly.

"How long have you been here?" Amalie asked. Kerr glared at her, annoyed at the interruption of his grand proposal.

"Three days or so."

"Three days?" Her mouth fell open, horrified. "No wonder you're so sick!"

He nodded, tousling his dark locks of hair so they scattered further from his face. "It was raining when I got out of there and then - sniff! hih'gnnh!" He aimed it right into his collarbone, continuing swiftly. "Then I hid here and it stopped for a while, and then it started again and I got soaked."

"What have you been eating?" she asked, leaning forward on her elbows. Kerr stopped trying to take back the conversation then, marveling with pride at his sister's compassion. They hadn't been eating much themselves, and yet Martin's food consumption worried her. She was not as selfish as he, then; in some ways, it thus became her right to make requests about their rest stops.

"I had an apple," he said weakly, gesturing to the juicy spheres above. "And I've drunk what rain I could."

Before Amalie could reply - a sugar-coated speech of sympathy, Kerr was sure - he gently interjected. "We'd be glad to help you," he said, encouraged by his sister's nod of agreement. "You - you don't seem like you'll make it too far on your own, no offense, and we're running from them as well," he reminded Martin.

"Oh..." Martin's pink skin had once again reverted to its mother color, red, this time surprised by their kindness. "I - I couldn't - " he paused, pinching his nose shut "hih... I couldn't let you... hihngnni! Couldn't let you do that."

"Why not?" Kerr asked. "It's not as if we're going anywhere in particular, anyway. We're just trying to get away from them."

"My dad would probably help you," Martin piped up, seeming glad to have a trade for their favor. Kerr's pulse raced; that's what he'd hoped. "We need vision-children around the palace anyway. And... and he wants the Hunters gone, too." At this, a wild grin appeared on Martin's face. This quiet boy, with the refined motions and endearing embarrassment, hated the Hunters. That much was clear. Owning just as much curiosity as his sister, and parents before him, Kerr wondered just what they'd done to him. They'd gotten him sick, anyway. Incredibly so. It made Kerr worry all the more, and he prayed they'd never get caught.

"We could live with you?" Amalie asked. She'd only known the boy for a few minutes, and already Kerr could see she was attached.

"Yes, you could," Martin replied, smiling. "That's the least I'd owe you... if you - if you - hih - hih -if y-y heh - you - heh'hshnni!" He continued to pant desperately, fighting every bone in his body. "Shnni! Hgnnt! Hehhnt!" They hit his hands like bullets, still not enough to soothe his nasal passages. But they were all he would allow. He trembled, hating this more than he could handle. He was afraid to sniff, worrying it would prevent him from stifling. Curling into a ball, he shook and held his nose.

For the moment, Amalie seemed to have given up on asking about his strange sneezes, and instead attempted to take care of him. "You should go back to sleep," she said. "You'll feel a little better once your fever's gone."

Martin did as he was told, rolling onto his back, deciding not to tell her that he'd had the fever for over a week. Thorns seemed to be stuck in the skin of his nose, his nostrils flaring and retracting with his every breath. His chest now ached, his heart rate painful, and he worried his skull would be in ashes by the morning.

"Rest up," Kerr instructed. "We should try to get to the nearest village in a few days. That's the only way you'll get well."

"What about the Hunters?" Amalie asked, her voice returned to its small, frightened range.

"We don't have a choice," Kerr said, shrugging. She frowned, thrown off by his apparent indifference. "We can't leave until he can walk, and we can't head all the way to Ereshirk until he's completely better. That's a difficult journey to make."

"T-thank you," Martin muttered, understanding the sacrifices they planned to make. His skin still seemed to crawl with tremors, but he was no long completely awake. Once he fell asleep - his moist breathing relaxed, a single "Hukshhoo!" escaping as he slept - Kerr opened his arms to Amalie. She crawled into his lap, her unnaturally small body allowing her to fit perfectly. They sat in silence for a while, until Kerr asked the inevitable.

"What are you thinking?"

"Hmm... You're nicer than I thought you were," she said, grinning impishly. "And you're a lot like Daddy. You're good at making deals."

---

Yay! I can't wait to make Martin sneeze freely again, in the next bit . Thank you so much for reading!

[starpollen]

He felt the air in his mouth spiral into a tight coil, snapping back like a cut string. "Hehshnn!"

---

He gaped slightly at the sound of congestion in his voice, his inability to speak properly, and sniffed as hard as he could until it went away.

---

...his voice going the color of his eyes.

---

the boy's eyelids flickered once again. Up and down they danced, caught in the net of natural occurrance. His posture stiffened, head bowed and hands raised. In this trapped position, it was hard to imagine he'd ever been a prince at all. He looked so incredibly helpless, and yet... not so. Because he still wouldn't let himself sneeze completely; he still clutched the rope of control, only releasing it as much as he needed to.

---

He continued to pant desperately, fighting every bone in his body. "Shnni! Hgnnt! Hehhnt!" They hit his hands like bullets, still not enough to soothe his nasal passages. But they were all he would allow. He trembled, hating this more than he could handle. He was afraid to sniff, worrying it would prevent him from stifling. Curling into a ball, he shook and held his nose.

---

Thorns seemed to be stuck in the skin of his nose, his nostrils flaring and retracting with his every breath. His chest now ached, his heart rate painful, and he worried his skull would be in ashes by the morning.

Ohh, that's beautiful. I love how you write. Each line - so perfect!! Do, continue! Please??

Edit: Apparently I can't PM you yet... but feel free to email me at ***** I have lots of love to gush at you!

~ Mod note: As you know, we don't allow e-mail addresses to be posted outside your profile.

[sneeze(:]

Oh gosh.

I like this quite a lot.

[jezebel215]

i'm enjoying this a lot--even if i wish i could get them all out of the rain :-)

[obsessed]

Oooh, a prince named Martin. The plot thickens. His illness is so cuteee, and your writing is incredible in the way it flows.

[PaperThings]

Part four! I really want to thank everyone who's taken the time to comment on the story. I absolutely love hearing comments about things I've written, because it really does help me improve my writing, so I appreciate the feedback very much! Happy holidays everyone!

---

Martin blinked several times before waking, the moisture in his eyes making them ache. He rubbed them, sure they were swollen from the sneezing and the sickness, and tried to sit up.

"No you don't," a voice said. He flipped onto his side in surprise, nearly spraining his shoulders with the effort. Amalie stood over him, frowning and shaming him with her finger. "Unless you're a hundred percent better, you have to rest. We have to leave in a few days, remember?"

"I'll be fine to go," he replied at once, annoyed at her persistence. "I feel alright." However, he did not feel the least bit better. His head throbbed, the thunderstorm merely kindling for the fire atop his skull, and he felt the same constricted sensation in his nose and chest.

"No," Amalie corrected him, giving him a final push back down. "I checked you an hour ago and you were still warm." She raised her hand to his forehead, and nodded in confirmation. "Lie back down."

"Where's -" Martin paused, struggling for her brother's name. His memory often fell short, actually, even when without the assistance of illness.

"Kerr's looking for food," Amalie said. "The apple's were mostly rotten, and we all need to eat." She paused. "How are you feeling?"

Martin gave a sort of shrug. "Fine. Better." He noticed the deliberate mound of mud beneath his scalding temples, and wondered if she had tried to make a sort of pillow. Even in the crux of their situation, he almost smiled at her kindness.

"Your sinuses don't sound so clogged," she replied, cheery. "And you haven't sneezed in hours."

He grimaced, the heat in his face migrating to his cheeks. Still, he thought it might be best to keep the little girl updated. "No, that comes and goes. I'll be fine for a while, and then they'll hit me all at once."

She made a mewing sound of sympathy. "I'm sorry. Hopefully the rain will stop soon, and you'll be able to dry off." Lying in the shelter of the trees compared wonderfully to standing in the downpour, but it was far from ideal. The awful, chilling tingles had stuck to Martin's skin overnight, despite his climbing temperature. Again he found his body confused, only certain that it felt thoroughly miserable at both extremes.

"It's gotten louder," he commented, after a moment. The raindrops forged a whip together, painting the ground with their striking blow of water. "Are you sure your brother's alright?"

Amalie glanced out at the storm, her nerves visibly electric. "I think so. He promised he'd come back if he didn't find anything."

"It's no use getting him sick too," Martin continued. "Then we'll never get anywhere."

"He won't get sick," Amalie replied. "Kerr doesn't get sick." She fixed a scrutinizing glance on Martin, analyzing his every move. "You're shivering again."

"Am I?" He hadn't noticed. Sure enough, every piece of his flesh danced with vigor, causing him to tremble manically.

"Are you cold?" Amalie asked, crawling to his side. "I can look for..." She bit her lip, thinking of ways to warm him up. They had no sweaters, no blankets. The leaves on the trees were far too damp to be of any use.

He shook his head, even though he did feel a bit cold. "No, I don't care." He gave a soft whimper of dread. "This means it's starting again."

"What is?"

"The sneezing and coughing." He shook his head, glaring at the tree's bark. Of all he'd endured over the past three days - though his days with the Hunters certainly did not compare - the sneezing fits were certainly the worst. He hated the lack of control, the uncertainty. The fever, at least, remained steady. The painful jolts in his head felt nearly routine, but this... He hated the way they approached all at once, sneeze after sneeze coming until he thought he'd collapse from a lack of air. And with company? He'd never survive it. Last night, when he'd tried so desperately to stifle himself, that's when the sneezes had tapered off.

"Oh," she said, sounding sad. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "Does it really hurt?"

Martin wrapped his arms around himself, rubbing his frozen hands against his shirt. "Not really," he replied honestly, considering it. "But I don't know when it will end, and I hate that. And sometimes, if it keeps going, my nose starts to hurt." He felt like a small child, telling this to her, but her eyes held a curious air to them. Besides, after all that he'd experienced, he had the human need to complain. If someone wanted to hear, then, well, he would tell them.

"Would you like me to hold your hand?" Her head tilted to the side, she looked so earnest. He nearly laughed, embarrassed at the thought of the idea.

"I'll be alright," he insisted. "Just..." He trailed off, thinking the first one had arrived, and scrubbed his nose until the tickle returned to bay.

"Would you like me to talk to you?" Amalie asked. "Distract you?" She folded her hands in her lap, her attention devoted to the task at hand.

Martin sighed, wishing he could explain to her that she did not make this any easier. He moved his hands back to his nose, attempting to soothe it further, but made the mistake of grazing it with his nails. Only the slightest edge scraped his skin, but it was too late. The trigger reared back, releasing the tickle and pushing him over the edge. "Heh... hih'hih.." He smacked the ground with his left hand, annoyed, keeping the right tightly under his nose. "Hih'hih'chgnn!" He wasn't finished, but Amalie didn't appear to notice.

"Bless you. Mart -"

"Hih'ghnni! Ghnn! Heh... " His body stuck there, face deflating like a popped balloon. As his nostrils grappled convulsively for the sneeze, trying to free him, Amalie decided to try again.

"Bless you. Martin, can I ask you a question?"

He tried to open his eyes and look at her, which seemed enough to do him in. "Wh-wha... heh... hih'shghni! Gxnnt! Ah..." The last one brought his nose to his kneecaps, and he felt sure he would not be able to do this for long. The stifles simply prolonged the sneezing, and he knew he'd be at this for hours. Still though, some habits were hard to give up. He'd trained, since birth, on the appropriate ways to behave in public. And after his recent experiences especially, he intended to keep his dignity as close as he could.

"Why do you only sneeze like a normal person when you're asleep?" She stared at him, and he had only to open his mouth to encourage the next round.

Bringing his elbow under his nostrils, he blushed as the drawstring pulled his mouth open and his eyes shut. "Hehgnnxhi! Hehshnnt!" He gave a strong sniffle, looking back at her. "What?" he asked. The weight of mucus had really impaired his voice now, and he knew no amount of coughing would return it to normal. He could feel his face darken in shade, hoping she wouldn't mind.

"Yours are all so squished," she went on, speaking with the trademark candor of a person from her town. "No wonder it's painful. You sneeze normally in your sleep, and it seems less painful for you."

"Because I'b asleep," Martin replied, trying to add a note of sarcasm. It did not help, though. He felt mortified, wondering how much he'd sneezed when unaware.

"Haven't you ever tried it before?" She asked, innocent as ever.

"Yeah," he muttered, using the heel of his hand to press down on his nose. "It - it's the same. Worse even, because…” He met her eyes, so wide and innocent, and felt compelled to tell the truth. “It just ends faster," he admitted.

"Well?" Amalie prompted, her voice quiet. They stared at one another for a moment, the rain streaking on behind them.

“I shouldn’t,” he said quietly, after a moment. He punctuated the sentence with a sniff, sighing and rubbing his nose. “It isn’t proper.”

Amalie gave a toss of her head, and Martin realized in surprise that she meant it as a gesture of scorn. “What does that even mean?” she asked. She crossed her arms, evidently frustrated.

“I…” He stopped, giving a heavy cough.

“Just try it,” Amalie said, as if encouraging a bite of unknown food. “What are you so afraid of, anyway? It’s only a sneeze.” He met her eyes, wondering how you got to be like her. She was brought up to care for the big picture, clearly, while he had learned to notice the details. When you were a prince, you had to, but perhaps vision-children lived life differently. He didn’t answer her, and so she pressed the matter further. “And anyway, for all you were worried about, it hasn’t been that bad so far. … Right?”

“Right,” he answered dully.

At once, it seemed to click for her. “Are you embarrassed?” she asked softly. He didn’t answer; another sneeze slid behind his waiting mouth and nostrils, making it hard to speak comfortably. “You shouldn’t be,” she went on. “I mean… it isn’t a big deal or anything.”

Perhaps it was because she was so young, making him want to believe her, or maybe it was because he knew he would never clear his nose this way – but he wanted to listen. “O-okay,” he murmured, feeling one build already. His cheeks reddened in anticipation, and paused nervously in place. “If – if you, heh –“ The hitch reared back on a desperate note, releasing a string of short gasps. “Heh’heh…heh – HEH” He seemed to choke on the last one, scarlet face screwed up in waiting. His mouth hung there for a few moments, eyes scrunched tightly shut, and he raised his arms for the release. “HEHkshoo!” His elbow caught the thick of the spray, a few droplets showering the floor. He kept it there, hiding the bottom of his face, expecting further to overpower him. “I’b sorry,” he murmured, sighing.

Despite his earlier request, Amalie reached around to his other side and grasped his hand. He twitched, trying to pull away, but quickly convulsed in the other direction. His neck whipped his face away from her, and she only caught the muffled sounds of his frantic breath. Hidden by the sleeve, they made a faint “Ehh- eh’eh.” On the last one, he squeezed her fingers back. “Hehkshoo!” With one beat’s pause, he continued. “Ushh! Hih’ushhh!” He stopped once more, moving his arm just an inch, and quickly put it back in place. “Hishoo! Uh’shoo! Uh…” he groaned, finished at last.

“Are you alright?” she asked, deciding she liked him better this way. He seemed more familiar this way, exhibiting the symptoms she expected from the ill.

He leaned back against the tree trunk, massaging his temples with the hand she did not hold. Still panting, eyes still shut, he gave a little nod. “Yeah,” he said. However, his face radiated pain. The edges of his nose glowed with a sickly pink, not to mention the still-embarrassed color of his cheeks. Sneezing outright seemed to have hurt his head as well. He continued to shake as well, the icy texture on his body only lowering its temperature. She watched him control his breathing, in and out, shoulders moving at a steady, careful pace. His fingers trembled as he brushed sweat from his brow, and she quickly began apologizing.

“I’m sorry,” she said, leaning towards him. “I didn’t mean for it to make things worse.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head; but he kept his eyes closed, either exhausted or afraid to look at her. “It was going to happen eventually. And anyway, I wasn’t going to get better if I kept holding it in.” Tentative, unsure, he blinked and looked at her. His grey eyes held moisture, presumably an aftermath of the fit. They held one another’s gaze, Amalie still searching his face for any signs of harm. “Thank you.”

“Really?” She brightened, happy to have helped. Amalie felt best when she thought she had done something of use.

“Yes,” he answered slowly. “You were right. It’s a silly thing to be afraid of. And I – I’ll tr – heh - try… uhh, here we go again.” She held his hand tight, and he reciprocated, readying himself. He snapped forward so quickly that his hair fell in his face, blocking her view of his wellbeing. “Hehkshhoo! Shoo!’hih’shoo! The last two shot out together, giving him a single breath before the next. “Hehshuh! Ushh! Ehsooo! His elbow could no longer contain the sneezes, and he rose, shakily, for the first time in days.

Stumbling forward, getting away from her, he fell promptly to his knees. “Ekshoo! Hehkshuh! Heh –heh – heh’heh’hih…” Again, his breathing sharpened, and only when he moved his head did she catch sight of his face. Apparently he no longer had time to feel embarrassment, for his face shown blank except the sneezes. Still, this kept his features preoccupied enough, pulling his breath in careful synchronization. His eyelashes sailed to his lids as his nostrils wove apart, head bobbing as his lips snapped shut. “Ehshoo! Hixshshh! Kshoo!” They fell into his lap one after the other, each bursting from his lips with surprising force. He shivered throughout, shoulders tensing and quickening pace with every sneeze.

Ten identical “HeCHOO!”s came after, Amalie reaching him on the fourth. He could no longer sit straight, and she propped him gently over her knee.

“Martin?” she asked softly, though he did not have the breath to reply.

“Hukshshh!” he let out, barely catching it with his wrist.

“Are you alright?” she asked uselessly.

Somehow, he managed to nod for her. “Fine,” he said weakly. “You can talk now if you like,” He smiled a little, hoping she would smile back. “To distract me, like you said.”

“Okay,” Amalie replied, deciding to take his request as a positive sign. “What would you like me to talk about?”

That’s all for a few days! I hope you liked the rather sneeze-focused chapter ☺. Thanks for reading!

[starpollen]

MMmm!! Lovely! I particularly love your descriptions of his nose when he sneezed:

...his nostrils grappled convulsively for the sneeze...

...his nostrils wove apart...

Very well done! Can't wait for more!

[Weirdo Girl]

love it.

[obsessed]

Ooooooooh. Me like. Happy Holidays.

[Marceline]

That was like a Christmas present to me.

[PaperThings]

Here's Part 5! Thank you so much for your comments ! I'm so glad that people actually like the story!

---

"Tell me why you're running, exactly," Martin replied. He kept his eyelids clenched tightly shut, too miserable to open them again. "Or... Heh'heh..." he rubbed his nose with his fits, brushing away the tickle's intensity. "Whatever you like," he croaked. "I don't care. Just something to make this feel more normal. ...And," he began, pausing to open his eyes for a moment. "You can - hihh - you can mo - hih - move me off your leg, if I'm too -- hihh!" Each word came at a with a sharper staccato pace, and Martin finally cut off with a spectacular gasp. Amalie gently helped his sleeve to his face, and he stowed his face in the damp fabric. "Hihhhshoo!" His irises disappeared from sight, the effort of opening his eyes apparently all for naught. Amalie focused her attention on his spindly lashes, which seemed to tremble in perfect time with his spine. She half expected them to rip away in exhaustion.

"Hekshoo!" he continued, his smooth skin melting in discomfort. "Hexxshoo!" His head snapped forward, coming off the ground. Amalie winced at the cracking sound of his neck, and gently put her hand behind it.

"Are you done?" she asked, when he'd been quiet for a moment.

"Heh..." he stopped, the sensation fading. "I think so," he muttered, "for now." Sniffling, he looked at her apologetically. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head at him. "I'm sorry I talked you into sneezing normally. It sounds painful."

"It isn't actually," he insisted. "My head just hurts a little, but it hurt before too." Biting down on his lip, he let his head flop onto her hand. "I'm sorry that you're, um, here." His cheeks remained red form the fever and the sneezing, so she couldn't tell if this was further embarrassment or not.

"Better than being in the rain," she answered honestly. Inadvertently, she glanced to the relentless downpour. Kerr had yet to return, and it was impossible to see or hear him through the rain.

"I'm sure he's fine," Martin insisted, wincing as she moved him back across her lap. Despite her kindness, he did not quite feel comfortable receiving such affection and care from her. "Probably still looking for edible food."

"Yeah..." Anxious to change the subject, Amalie jumped back to the earlier question of intrigue. "You wanted me to tell you why we're running, exactly?" Amalie asked.

"Right," Martin replied. "If you want to." He hesitated, pride forcing him to reiterate. "If I'm too heavy for you, Amalie, you can put me back on the floor."

"No," she replied smoothly. "You're fine. Now, let me think of where to start."

As she thought, Martin released another set of three sneezes, each on a shriller note than the one before. "Ekshoo! Hekshoo! XxkSHOO!" The volume of the last one seemed to embarrass him all the further, and he wiped his nose with an abashed expression.

"Bless you," Amalie said offhand, barely paying attention. "Okay, well, I guess it started about three years ago, when I had my first vision. We already knew that Kerr had the prophecy gene, but he mostly got them in his sleep." Martin appeared to be listening intently, and so she elaborated. "That's less trouble you see, because there's no chance of anyone else noticing. But I..." she broke off, considering how much to tell him. "I get them whenever. And it's pretty obvious, too. My parents had to pull me from school, after I had one in the middle of class."

"Can I ask a question?" Martin asked. His voice was thick with mucus, and he coughed to clear it.

"Mhmm."

"What's the difference? I mean," he thought, rethinking. "Why would one person have them awake and another asleep?"

"Well," Amalie began, thoughtfully digging her hands into the mud. "That's a good question. We aren't sure really, since it's hereditary. That's like asking why one person is a vision-child, and why another is not."

"Oh, okay," Martin replied, disappointed. He preferred solid facts to theories, the concrete to the unknown. "Hushoo!" he let out, surprising himself. The buildups seemed to be vanishing, as if his nose had now begun to free fall without any preemptive climb. Miserably, he sniffed away the oozing liquid, annoyed to find the shifting of liquid only irritated his nose further. "Keshuhh! Shkush!" Out of habit, he stifled a third, refusing to eject more spray from his face. "Kshnngt!" He curled into a ball, convulsively twitching in the cold.

"Are you okay?" Amalie asked, alarmed by his slacked jaw and sweaty neck.

"I don't - I don't know." The sound of his chattering teeth scared her worst of all, and she pulled him up from the ground and into her arms. Now she felt every shiver that plied his bones apart, every movement of evading the ice in his blood. "Keep - keep going," he murmured, gritting his teeth.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

He tried to nod, but could only move his head a fraction. "I want to hear," he said. Amalie felt his forehead again, worrying at its warmth.

"You're warmer, I think," she said softly, drying the sweat from his face.

"Really?" he asked, though again he had trouble forming the words. "Because I don't think I've ever felt this cold before, except my head."

"Mmm," Amalie said, now attempting to remove the sweat from his hair. His once-silky, long locks stuck together with the moisture, matted back against his head. The only thing they'd kept was their dark color, still as black as the the dirt covering his clothing. "I'm sorry," she said. "That means you have chills."

"It's oka - " he broke off, this time warning her. "Wait," he said, then with only a seconds pause, "HEHkshh!" This one he aimed directly at his lap, for she held his arms locked protectively beneath hers. There was no way for him to block the spray. Grimacing, mortified, he turned his head ever-so-slightly into her shoulder. He could feel the pressure building behind under his nostrils, evicting them from their standstill, and they would only make a mess if he left them uncovered. Amalie seemed to notice his discomfort, and began to pat his back as soothingly as she could. With a wry frown, he realized she had no concern for her own clothes. He opened his mouth, prepared, squinting his eyes so they felt less agitation. A moment's pant escaped him, "Hehh," and his face crumpled gracefully into the fit. "Hukshuhh! Hehkshh! Gnxxshoo!" Each pocket of his face, his nostrils, cheeks and lips, billowed on the exhale. He tensed then, steam rising to burn the bridge of his nose. This only worsened the tickle, and he spat a rapid fire rally of twenty "hik'shoo!" without a second's pause for breath between them. The level desperation stood as the only difference between each sneeze, the last reaching such a height that it plateaued and pricked his eyes.

Still, boy of etiquette that he was, he tried to muster an apology as he caught his breath. Amalie merely shooed him away, dabbing at his flushed face. "Stop feeling embarrassed," she said, moving her hand swiftly across her soaked shoulder. "There's no need for it."

"I'm sorry," he moaned, leaning back against her dry shoulder. "I shouldn't be doing this to you."

"Doing what?" Amalie narrowed her eyes. "I like taking care of you, Martin. It makes me worry less."

"How?" They both ignored the fact that his voice was practically inhuman.

"I don't know. I guess because I have something else to focus on." A rumbling came from the branches, and Amalie realized with relief that the sound was footsteps. She only had a moment to panic, considering that it might not be Kerr, before he appeared in front of her.

As she'd expected, he was soaked from head to toe, his features undetectable as he stood in the rain. "Amalie, we have to go," he said sharply, barely registering Martin's anguished expression. "I heard an engine, and I think they've got a car on us."

Pulse catapulting from her chest, Amalie gaped. "Where will we go?"

"Nearest town," Kerr said. "We'll get the boy better and make arrangements to travel to the castle." Noticing their wide-eyed faces, he clapped his hands in impatience. "Let's go, we have to go," he insisted. "Can you walk?"

Martin hesitated, hiding his own fear with practiced skill. In many ways - in all ways, in fact - he knew he feared the Hunters more than these two possible could. "I can try."

"No he can't," Amalie corrected.

"Alright, we'll support him," Kerr said, hoisting the boy's arm across his shoulder. "Can you do that, Amalie?"

The spotlight hit her painfully, and she ducked her head in shame. However, she gave a quick nod and took Martin's other arm.

"Go quickly," Kerr said. "If we lose pace, for even a second, they could get us."

---

That's all for now! Expect some sneezes from all three of them in the next chapter, though still the most from Martin. I hope you liked this part! Thanks for reading!

[obsessed]

Aww, Martin's a cutie.

[Weirdo Girl]

Can't wait for more!

[starpollen]

I LOVE this story!! Love-love-love-love-love!

[jezebel215]

Not only am I really enjoying this story, I'm perilously curious as to what being a "vision-child" entails (and strangely, although I don't know what it means, I kind of wish I had the power!

-josey