Post by westernsunset on Aug 13, 2018 12:40:11 GMT 10
Title: Searching Until I Find
Rating: G
Prompt: Kissing Frogs
Summary: Neal falls in and out of love very quickly. It's too much for his mother to keep track of (title comes from the Bruce Springsteen song Two Hearts)
“Young Nealan has the Gift of a Healer, but the soul of a poet,” his aunt laughed one Midwinter, when Neal was only five. He’d just been describing the bouquet of evergreen boughs he’d tied together with a bright red ribbon. He planned to give it to Tallie, the seven year old daughter of a nearby Baron who was coming for tomorrow’s feast. His hope was that Tallie would love the gift so much, she’d agree when Neal asked her to dance. He’d been practicing his steps for weeks in anticipation.
But his aunt’s teasing had shocked him. She’d laughed at his gift, and maybe Tallie would too. Without another word, Neal ran from the table and didn’t even make it to his room before he started to cry. He threw himself on the bed (dramatically) and wept like his five-year-old heart was broken beyond repair.
A soft knock at the door, and his mother came in, sitting down at the edge of his bed.
“Oh Neal,” she said rubbing his back. “You know Aunt Marde didn’t mean any harm. I think she really liked the idea of your bouquet.”
“What if--Tallie--laughs at me?” Neal said between sobs.
Wilina sighed inwardly. She didn’t always know what to make of her sensitive youngest son. She was an intensely practical woman, rarely ceding to sentiment or extravagance. Her wedding to Baird was a simple ceremony, both preferring to save coin for their future together. Her home was comfortable but sparse, with her sister always teasing her about the empty walls and plain furniture. But Wilina had never understood the need for flowers that died several days after they were picked, wall hangings that only served to please the eye, or heartfelt speeches of affection. Baird showed his love for her every day, through his actions, not through what she saw as meaningless gestures or proclamations.
Her other children had inherited Wilina’s practical streak. But from the time he could talk, Neal set himself apart. He was always attracted to art, flowers, poetry, all the fleeting things Wilina saw no use for. And he was the most romantic five year old Wilina had ever encountered, constantly falling in love with whatever girl happened to cross his path. Wilina did not understand him at all.
She still loved him though, and she hated to see him so upset. But the fact of the matter is, had a five year old presented her a winter bouquet when she was seven, she would have laughed at him. She didn’t want Neal to be hurt even more, particularly since Tallie didn’t seem like the flowers and poems type. Though she was only seven. It was hard to tell.
“It’s always nice to give a friend a gift,” Wilina said, choosing her words carefully. “Maybe you can just give them to her for Midwinter Luck?”
“But I don’t want to give them to her as a friend! I love her!”
“I know sweetheart, and I’m sure she’ll love them. But she may not...confess her love in return. Sometimes that happens,” Wilina said, trying not to be too blunt.
Neal sniffed, calmer now. “Well I guess I have to try.”
All Wilina wanted to do was shout “No! You don’t have to try! You can just keep the flowers!” but she just hugged her son and assured him that she was behind him no matter what.
Of course, Tallie took the bouquet politely when Neal gave it to her with a proclamation of love, though she did not return his affections. Miraculously, Neal didn’t cry and wished her Midwinter luck. Later that night, as Wilina tucked him in, he said “Mama, I’m glad I told her, even though she didn’t love me back. I would have been sadder if I didn’t tell her at all.”
Wilina kissed him goodnight and blew out his candles, but she left shaking her head, and wondering if she would ever understand her youngest son.
---
When Neal announced his intention to pursue knighthood, ten years later, Wilina was proud but nervous. Neal was so different from the sons she had lost, may the Black God bless them. Her other boys had been resilient, with an inner strength and innate practicality. Neal was...dreamy. Sensitive. Despite her husband’s confidence, Wilina didn’t know if the palace would be the right place for him.
And secretly, she was worried it would change her son into someone she wouldn’t recognize. Over the years, she’d grown to enjoy Neal’s all-consuming love affairs, his poems, his flowers, how he mooned over girls. She still didn’t understand how Neal was able to fall in and out of love so quickly, but instead of worrying her, it amused her. In a kind way. And she could tell Neal would sometimes make a story even more dramatic in telling it to her, to coax a smile out of his sometimes-too-stern mother. She hoped beyond hope the palace wouldn’t change the soul of her sweet young son.
With his first letter home, Wilina’s worries were put to rest. Addressed to her, the letter contained half a page of information about training and two and half pages about Daine, one of Neal’s teachers in wild magic. Several months later, it was Uline of Hanlof, one of Queen Thayet’s ladies in waiting. Then the Queen herself. When it came to unrequited crushes, Neal chose only the best.
Then, right before the Progress, Wilina received a different type of letter from her son.
Mother,
Forget every girl I’ve ever told you about, because I just met the girl I’m going to marry.
Most of Neal’s letters started like this.
I know, I’ve said this before. But all those other girls, that wasn’t love. Not like how I feel now.
This wasn’t out of the ordinary for Neal’s letters either, but he did sound more serious than Wilina remembered.
Really. It’s like everything was in black and white before and now I’m seeing colors for the first time. It’s like I was carrying something and didn’t realize how freely I could move until it was lifted off. I feel like a completely different person now. You watch, this isn’t Fickle Neal this time. This is the real thing.
I can’t wait for you to meet Yuki.
Rating: G
Prompt: Kissing Frogs
Summary: Neal falls in and out of love very quickly. It's too much for his mother to keep track of (title comes from the Bruce Springsteen song Two Hearts)
“Young Nealan has the Gift of a Healer, but the soul of a poet,” his aunt laughed one Midwinter, when Neal was only five. He’d just been describing the bouquet of evergreen boughs he’d tied together with a bright red ribbon. He planned to give it to Tallie, the seven year old daughter of a nearby Baron who was coming for tomorrow’s feast. His hope was that Tallie would love the gift so much, she’d agree when Neal asked her to dance. He’d been practicing his steps for weeks in anticipation.
But his aunt’s teasing had shocked him. She’d laughed at his gift, and maybe Tallie would too. Without another word, Neal ran from the table and didn’t even make it to his room before he started to cry. He threw himself on the bed (dramatically) and wept like his five-year-old heart was broken beyond repair.
A soft knock at the door, and his mother came in, sitting down at the edge of his bed.
“Oh Neal,” she said rubbing his back. “You know Aunt Marde didn’t mean any harm. I think she really liked the idea of your bouquet.”
“What if--Tallie--laughs at me?” Neal said between sobs.
Wilina sighed inwardly. She didn’t always know what to make of her sensitive youngest son. She was an intensely practical woman, rarely ceding to sentiment or extravagance. Her wedding to Baird was a simple ceremony, both preferring to save coin for their future together. Her home was comfortable but sparse, with her sister always teasing her about the empty walls and plain furniture. But Wilina had never understood the need for flowers that died several days after they were picked, wall hangings that only served to please the eye, or heartfelt speeches of affection. Baird showed his love for her every day, through his actions, not through what she saw as meaningless gestures or proclamations.
Her other children had inherited Wilina’s practical streak. But from the time he could talk, Neal set himself apart. He was always attracted to art, flowers, poetry, all the fleeting things Wilina saw no use for. And he was the most romantic five year old Wilina had ever encountered, constantly falling in love with whatever girl happened to cross his path. Wilina did not understand him at all.
She still loved him though, and she hated to see him so upset. But the fact of the matter is, had a five year old presented her a winter bouquet when she was seven, she would have laughed at him. She didn’t want Neal to be hurt even more, particularly since Tallie didn’t seem like the flowers and poems type. Though she was only seven. It was hard to tell.
“It’s always nice to give a friend a gift,” Wilina said, choosing her words carefully. “Maybe you can just give them to her for Midwinter Luck?”
“But I don’t want to give them to her as a friend! I love her!”
“I know sweetheart, and I’m sure she’ll love them. But she may not...confess her love in return. Sometimes that happens,” Wilina said, trying not to be too blunt.
Neal sniffed, calmer now. “Well I guess I have to try.”
All Wilina wanted to do was shout “No! You don’t have to try! You can just keep the flowers!” but she just hugged her son and assured him that she was behind him no matter what.
Of course, Tallie took the bouquet politely when Neal gave it to her with a proclamation of love, though she did not return his affections. Miraculously, Neal didn’t cry and wished her Midwinter luck. Later that night, as Wilina tucked him in, he said “Mama, I’m glad I told her, even though she didn’t love me back. I would have been sadder if I didn’t tell her at all.”
Wilina kissed him goodnight and blew out his candles, but she left shaking her head, and wondering if she would ever understand her youngest son.
---
When Neal announced his intention to pursue knighthood, ten years later, Wilina was proud but nervous. Neal was so different from the sons she had lost, may the Black God bless them. Her other boys had been resilient, with an inner strength and innate practicality. Neal was...dreamy. Sensitive. Despite her husband’s confidence, Wilina didn’t know if the palace would be the right place for him.
And secretly, she was worried it would change her son into someone she wouldn’t recognize. Over the years, she’d grown to enjoy Neal’s all-consuming love affairs, his poems, his flowers, how he mooned over girls. She still didn’t understand how Neal was able to fall in and out of love so quickly, but instead of worrying her, it amused her. In a kind way. And she could tell Neal would sometimes make a story even more dramatic in telling it to her, to coax a smile out of his sometimes-too-stern mother. She hoped beyond hope the palace wouldn’t change the soul of her sweet young son.
With his first letter home, Wilina’s worries were put to rest. Addressed to her, the letter contained half a page of information about training and two and half pages about Daine, one of Neal’s teachers in wild magic. Several months later, it was Uline of Hanlof, one of Queen Thayet’s ladies in waiting. Then the Queen herself. When it came to unrequited crushes, Neal chose only the best.
Then, right before the Progress, Wilina received a different type of letter from her son.
Mother,
Forget every girl I’ve ever told you about, because I just met the girl I’m going to marry.
Most of Neal’s letters started like this.
I know, I’ve said this before. But all those other girls, that wasn’t love. Not like how I feel now.
This wasn’t out of the ordinary for Neal’s letters either, but he did sound more serious than Wilina remembered.
Really. It’s like everything was in black and white before and now I’m seeing colors for the first time. It’s like I was carrying something and didn’t realize how freely I could move until it was lifted off. I feel like a completely different person now. You watch, this isn’t Fickle Neal this time. This is the real thing.
I can’t wait for you to meet Yuki.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!