Post by aurorax on Feb 16, 2010 17:02:38 GMT 10
Title: In Her Blood (Forgotten Princess I)
Rating: PG-13
Length: 1324 words
Competitor: Raoul
Round/Fight: 1/C
Summary: For Kat. You’ll have to suspend your disbelief on this one, since I know it doesn’t work appearance-wise and that this could never be kept a secret, but that one-year child gap was too tempting. This is a companion piece to my PPF fic “A Shoulder to Cry On”. It can stand alone, but the background relationships will come up later in the series. Part 1 of a series.
She would make a great queen; that much was clear, in the brilliant flashes that were becoming more and more frequent. Soon she would just burn that brightly in every moment, and Raoul couldn’t help but wonder how he would even bear to look at her. Was this what Jon had seen when he looked at her for the first time, the unquenchable spirit and ambition and sense behind the beauty, or had he just gotten lucky, chasing after a pretty face? Yes, Thayet would do her country proud, in time. But right now she was still barely more than a child, trying to piece herself back together from the fragments of haunting memories that had been her life for so long.
She told him, from her perch on the corner of his bed, about her dreams. How she dreamed that she was back in Sarain, running, always running, unable to stop. He asked if she was being pursued, but she didn’t know- all she could tell him was that she was more frightened in those moments than she had ever been in her life. She shifted slightly as she talked, staring down at her hands, and when he looked at her he saw a bird, tensed and ready to fly at the first sign of danger.
It was clear that she’d had another fight with Jon. Two years into their marriage, they were proving to be as volatile a pair as could have been predicted, loving and fighting with a passion that shook the castle down to its very depths. They would make up, of course, in time, but when it came to stubbornness they were an even match, and it could be days before someone finally broke down. She looked so lost at that moment, with her faraway eyes and hair still windswept from her morning ride, that it was all he could do to restrain himself from crossing the room in a few easy strides and holding her until the world fell back together again.
Why had she come to him, of all people? She had Buri, but Buri wasn’t one to comfort; she seemed in no condition to bear the truth of Buri’s censure. And Thayet must have sensed, with that personable intuition that was quickly winning her a place in the heart of the realm, that this was something she couldn’t talk to Alanna about. It was too soon, and likely would always be too soon; even he knew that. So she had come here, to him, and he realized at that moment how lonely she must still be, so far from home.
***
When they woke up in the morning, neither could remember who had moved first. Had she come to him, asking him to take her pain away and remind her that she wasn’t alone, so far from everything she had ever known? Had he gone to her, desperate to taste the light that burned beneath her flawless skin, to feel the full power of the fiery beauty he had always coveted from afar? Both had got their wishes, though the touches seemed cold in the morning light. She left quickly, sliding out the door without looking back, and Raoul realized that he didn’t miss her, only the dream of perfection that had turned out to be so human in the end.
***
She rode off with the start of the new year, despite the dire warnings of the icy roads, hastening the most intrepid traveler back to their warm bed. Her parting had been full of dreams and plans- she was going to recruit young men and women to form a new kind of army, open to anyone commoner or no, and her boundless enthusiasm had shut down all opposition. Jon had looked into her face and seen the K’miri blood flowing freely; so he had let her go, knowing that she needed her space, because the wide hallways and manicured gardens of the Palace, however grand, were a far cry from the endless plains of Sarain.
Raoul had wanted to follow her, to see if what he suspected was true, but she was too free, and he didn’t deserve to hold her. He had wanted to watch her ride away, a shadowy figure slowly swallowed up in the rising sun, but when he looked out over the curtain wall she was already gone.
***
She returned as the first leaves were falling and rushed into action, drafting the necessary laws to officially create her Riders. To all appearances, she was back, their Queen who burned so brightly; that was a happy autumn. She and Jon immersed themselves in their country and their young family, and as her plans began to take shape more solidly the color came back into her cheeks and the sound of her laughter rang through the Palace once more. Still, there were times when he caught her looking at him, and her shoulders shook gently as if she was holding back tears.
***
Years later, when Kel was his squire come and gone and the war with Scanra was at its peak, he heard the news of what she had done, the girl he had always loved like his own daughter. With one hundred men and a fort under his command, he still could do nothing for the one person he would have done anything to save; he could only sit and watch as Kel rode towards death itself.
For three days he could barely sleep, and at midnight on the fourth night, by the flickering light of a lone stub of candle, he wrote a letter to his Queen. He told her of his dream, that he was running, always running, unable to stop; he wanted to reach Kel, to keep her safe, but he could never catch up. In the officer’s mess he found some spirits and drank like a man dying of thirst, then in his anger he wrote hastily, viciously, nearly tearing through the page. What would he do if she died? What had possessed her to do something so utterly stupid, throwing away such a beautiful life for nothing? He begged of Thayet to just tell him why.
***
Several days’ worth of reports were stacked on his desk, blissfully ignored in the peace after his wedding. But the war didn’t wait, even for love, and Raoul eased himself into a chair, unsure of where to even begin. A thin sheet of paper caught his eye; it wasn’t a report, just a single sentence, but the bold slanting hand was intimately familiar. He read it quickly, the words taking a moment to sink in. But when they did, he realized that it was what he had always known all along, why he had felt so deeply, down to his very soul.
It’s the Kalasin in her. That’s all that was written, no greeting, no signature.
A few minutes passed, or maybe a few hours, before the sound of knocking echoed through his meditations, returning him to the present. It was Kel, of course, knowing that he would never finish the reports, come to offer her help in her own quiet way that asked for no favors in return. As she sat down beside him, he caught the glint of something buried deep, beneath the rough tanned skin and sunbleached hair, a stubborn light that burned like only one other he’d ever seen. And he reached over lightly to drape his arm around her shoulders, a comforting, fatherly gesture, just to remind himself that this was real, that he could have a part in something so purely good. Nothing had changed, really- she had always been his, to watch out for and look after. Now he just had one more piece of her to protect, and he subtly dropped a thin sheet of paper into the fire, watching it burn down to ash. Kel would never know.
Rating: PG-13
Length: 1324 words
Competitor: Raoul
Round/Fight: 1/C
Summary: For Kat. You’ll have to suspend your disbelief on this one, since I know it doesn’t work appearance-wise and that this could never be kept a secret, but that one-year child gap was too tempting. This is a companion piece to my PPF fic “A Shoulder to Cry On”. It can stand alone, but the background relationships will come up later in the series. Part 1 of a series.
She would make a great queen; that much was clear, in the brilliant flashes that were becoming more and more frequent. Soon she would just burn that brightly in every moment, and Raoul couldn’t help but wonder how he would even bear to look at her. Was this what Jon had seen when he looked at her for the first time, the unquenchable spirit and ambition and sense behind the beauty, or had he just gotten lucky, chasing after a pretty face? Yes, Thayet would do her country proud, in time. But right now she was still barely more than a child, trying to piece herself back together from the fragments of haunting memories that had been her life for so long.
She told him, from her perch on the corner of his bed, about her dreams. How she dreamed that she was back in Sarain, running, always running, unable to stop. He asked if she was being pursued, but she didn’t know- all she could tell him was that she was more frightened in those moments than she had ever been in her life. She shifted slightly as she talked, staring down at her hands, and when he looked at her he saw a bird, tensed and ready to fly at the first sign of danger.
It was clear that she’d had another fight with Jon. Two years into their marriage, they were proving to be as volatile a pair as could have been predicted, loving and fighting with a passion that shook the castle down to its very depths. They would make up, of course, in time, but when it came to stubbornness they were an even match, and it could be days before someone finally broke down. She looked so lost at that moment, with her faraway eyes and hair still windswept from her morning ride, that it was all he could do to restrain himself from crossing the room in a few easy strides and holding her until the world fell back together again.
Why had she come to him, of all people? She had Buri, but Buri wasn’t one to comfort; she seemed in no condition to bear the truth of Buri’s censure. And Thayet must have sensed, with that personable intuition that was quickly winning her a place in the heart of the realm, that this was something she couldn’t talk to Alanna about. It was too soon, and likely would always be too soon; even he knew that. So she had come here, to him, and he realized at that moment how lonely she must still be, so far from home.
***
When they woke up in the morning, neither could remember who had moved first. Had she come to him, asking him to take her pain away and remind her that she wasn’t alone, so far from everything she had ever known? Had he gone to her, desperate to taste the light that burned beneath her flawless skin, to feel the full power of the fiery beauty he had always coveted from afar? Both had got their wishes, though the touches seemed cold in the morning light. She left quickly, sliding out the door without looking back, and Raoul realized that he didn’t miss her, only the dream of perfection that had turned out to be so human in the end.
***
She rode off with the start of the new year, despite the dire warnings of the icy roads, hastening the most intrepid traveler back to their warm bed. Her parting had been full of dreams and plans- she was going to recruit young men and women to form a new kind of army, open to anyone commoner or no, and her boundless enthusiasm had shut down all opposition. Jon had looked into her face and seen the K’miri blood flowing freely; so he had let her go, knowing that she needed her space, because the wide hallways and manicured gardens of the Palace, however grand, were a far cry from the endless plains of Sarain.
Raoul had wanted to follow her, to see if what he suspected was true, but she was too free, and he didn’t deserve to hold her. He had wanted to watch her ride away, a shadowy figure slowly swallowed up in the rising sun, but when he looked out over the curtain wall she was already gone.
***
She returned as the first leaves were falling and rushed into action, drafting the necessary laws to officially create her Riders. To all appearances, she was back, their Queen who burned so brightly; that was a happy autumn. She and Jon immersed themselves in their country and their young family, and as her plans began to take shape more solidly the color came back into her cheeks and the sound of her laughter rang through the Palace once more. Still, there were times when he caught her looking at him, and her shoulders shook gently as if she was holding back tears.
***
Years later, when Kel was his squire come and gone and the war with Scanra was at its peak, he heard the news of what she had done, the girl he had always loved like his own daughter. With one hundred men and a fort under his command, he still could do nothing for the one person he would have done anything to save; he could only sit and watch as Kel rode towards death itself.
For three days he could barely sleep, and at midnight on the fourth night, by the flickering light of a lone stub of candle, he wrote a letter to his Queen. He told her of his dream, that he was running, always running, unable to stop; he wanted to reach Kel, to keep her safe, but he could never catch up. In the officer’s mess he found some spirits and drank like a man dying of thirst, then in his anger he wrote hastily, viciously, nearly tearing through the page. What would he do if she died? What had possessed her to do something so utterly stupid, throwing away such a beautiful life for nothing? He begged of Thayet to just tell him why.
***
Several days’ worth of reports were stacked on his desk, blissfully ignored in the peace after his wedding. But the war didn’t wait, even for love, and Raoul eased himself into a chair, unsure of where to even begin. A thin sheet of paper caught his eye; it wasn’t a report, just a single sentence, but the bold slanting hand was intimately familiar. He read it quickly, the words taking a moment to sink in. But when they did, he realized that it was what he had always known all along, why he had felt so deeply, down to his very soul.
It’s the Kalasin in her. That’s all that was written, no greeting, no signature.
A few minutes passed, or maybe a few hours, before the sound of knocking echoed through his meditations, returning him to the present. It was Kel, of course, knowing that he would never finish the reports, come to offer her help in her own quiet way that asked for no favors in return. As she sat down beside him, he caught the glint of something buried deep, beneath the rough tanned skin and sunbleached hair, a stubborn light that burned like only one other he’d ever seen. And he reached over lightly to drape his arm around her shoulders, a comforting, fatherly gesture, just to remind himself that this was real, that he could have a part in something so purely good. Nothing had changed, really- she had always been his, to watch out for and look after. Now he just had one more piece of her to protect, and he subtly dropped a thin sheet of paper into the fire, watching it burn down to ash. Kel would never know.
Your writing is gorgeous, and my favorite part was Thayet explaining so plainly: It's the Kalasin in her. I love it.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!