Random dribblings, in the style of my friend's dribblings, Fifty Words for Kells, and another person's writings whose name I forget. It's called For the Love of Thor, and it's brilliant. Look at it. LOOOOOOOOOK.

These are rather disconnected from each other, and are often not canonical. Make of them what you will.

1. Hope

A shocking sound made its way up to the old man's room, and for a moment, he couldn't believe his ears.

It was a glorious sound. It hadn't been uncommon these days, but it had never really held the same meaning for him as it did at that moment.

It was a man's laugh, but not really. Because the Abbot could still hear his laugh there. It was deeper, but it was still him. Abandoned, joyous, half-smothered, as if he was trying not to be too loud and failing miserably. It would have been described as a giggle, if it wasn't a thirty year old man laughing.

The Abbot felt a chuckle escape him as the sound of Brendan's laughter echoed through the abbey, making a beacon of hope in the forest shine just a little bit brighter.

2. Stick

"So I'm the fairy princess, and you're the simple woodsman." Aisling explained. Brendan looked rather irritated.

"Why would a woodsman have a sword?" He asked pointedly. Aisling thought about it, then shrugged.

"I dunno. He just does. Why do I have to think of everything?" Brendan nodded, conceding the point.

"Fine. So, there's a princess and a woodsman..."

"And they go off to defeat the evil serpent king!" Aisling finished with a flourish. Brendan nodded, grinning broadly. He brandished his stick-sword, and the two charged off into woods with a roar.

3. Frustration

The Abbot sighed heavily, shooting a glare at Aidan as he did so. The older man pointed at himself, attempting to seem innocent.

The chair Brendan sat in every night as a rule was empty, just as it had been for several days straight. It was getting to the point that Leonardo and Assuoa, who sat on either side of him, no longer looked startled at the absence.

At that, the Abbot became certain that this had gone on long enough. He stood, politely excused himself, and walked out.

The Scriptorium was dark save for the desk farthest from the door. Brendan was hunched over, his tongue protruding from his mouth, as it had since he was a toddler whenever he was doing his absolute best. Under normal circumstances, Cellach would have been rather pleased at the dedication.

He walked up to the desk. Brendan made no indication that he heard his uncle approach. Even when the older man peered over to see his nephew's work, he didn't notice.

It was excellent. But that didn't change a thing.

"Brendan." The boy jumped, startled. He looked up, blinking furiously, then smiled in a way that would have been bright, if it wasn't for the utter exhaustion there.

"Oh! Hello, Unc-" As he spoke, Cellach walked around the desk, grabbed his nephew's wrist, and began dragging him out of the Scriptorium

The brothers looked up as Cellach stalked in, dragging a feebly protesting Brendan behind. Cellach placed Brendan firmly in the chair.

"You're going to eat this." He said in a tone that left no room for discussion. "After that, you're going to go to your room and sleep for a solid eight hours. Have I made myself clear?" Brendan nodded, his stomach growling deafeningly at the sight of the food. Satisfied, the Abbot sat back down at the table. He glanced again at Aidan, who was hiding a grin behind his hand.

"Don't blame me, Cellach-"

"I blame you."

4. Castle

If Brendan had to choose a place that he was most comfortable, he'd choose the Scriptorium.

Even before Aidan had guided him into the realm of imagination and ink, the Scriptorium had been a place of wonder for the little brother. The quiet scratching of quills belied the magic that happened there.

As he grew older, the downsides to the place began to make themselves known. The roof leaked; not anywhere that would ruin books, but it was irritating. The wind whistled through the cracks in the walls, and the place was hot as hell during the warmer days of summer. And that was before the sacking. Afterwards, it took weeks to remake the roof and cover up the holes, and after that, every irritating attribute of the hall was made that much worse.

Brendan loved it.

5. Immaturity

The Abbot had never paid much attention to the goings on of the children. When novitiates came to Kells and joined Brendan as the youth of the abbey, the other monks (Leonardo, Aidan, or Tang usually) taught them what they needed to know and left the more important duties to Cellach.

So it came as a total shock to the man when he learned that they were all engaged in deadly warfare.

At some point in time, an insult had been passed between the village children and the novices and novitiates of the abbey. What it was and who said it was, in the way of things, long forgotten. But the outrage remained. Each season brought a new way to fight: with spring came mud, with summer came the hot blood and fist fights. As Brendan rarely, if ever was involved in those, Cellach allowed the other brothers to deal with the problem. Fall brought a lull in the war, as the children were all needed for harvest and readying the abbey for winter. When winter came, however, the war and bloodshed (such as it was) began right where it left off with widespread snowball fights. When Cellach asked Aidan about it, he was rather startled at the ruthless, efficient strategies the old man described both sides using: quickly claiming high ground, flanking, guerilla warfare, making walls out of snow... They even took hostages.

He tried to ignore it. Winter became spring, which was recognized by the mud stained robes and constant baths. Then summer came, and Cellach was forced to involve himself.

They tried to hide it from him, but children are never as quiet or sneaky as they think they are. He heard them talking about it long before they heard him approach. They were huddled around a rough map of the abbey that Brendan had drawn, whispering.

"We have to get him back. The Abbot'll kill us if they keep him much longer."

"Oh, they're probably doing horrific things to him."

"Poor Brendan. I hardly knew you..."

The Abbot stopped, eyebrows raised slightly in shock. They continued.

"We have to get him back. Look, if we go around this way..."

"They've got the twins there. Even if we could beat one, the other would sound the alarm."

"We could-" He stopped abruptly as the Abbot walked by. They waited tensely for the questioning, the interrigation, the doom, but rather than even acknowledge their existence, he simply tapped a finger on a part of the map. The leader blinked, peered at the place the Abbot had pointed out, then whooped with delight.

"PLUMS! Oh, you're a genius!"

The Abbot bowed his head to hide the small grin.