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rainbowfic2013-02-06 02:42 am
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2013-02-06 02:42 am
Iceberg #12, Red #13
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Urgency
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Iceberg #12. snowman, Red #13. redheaded stepchild
Supplies and Materials: eraser (Discovery AU), brush (factotum), fabric, charcoal, pastels (my current gen + romance card G2 "truth"), seed beads, yarn, glitter ("Pressure is something you feel when you don’t know what the hell you’re doing." – Peyton Manning), glue ("You may be able to get away with some mischief today, but don't push your luck too far or your day could implode. However, even if you go overboard, you should be able to get everything back on track quickly.")
Word Count: 1007
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Mellir, Keta
Warnings: Dehumanization of mages, references to enslavement, implied alcoholism, brief reference to familial death
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. That yarn prompt looks weirdly like a dragon to me. IDK. This takes place in an alternate 986 FY.
The lock on the Archives door had been picked.
...what in the name of...?
Keta knew well that none of her siblings shared her interest in the history of their nation (or the rest of the world) beyond what they absolutely needed to know for immediate tasks. If they wanted more information, they asked her. And, of course, any non-family-member who wanted access to the Archives knew to ask for the key.
She considered turning back, summoning help, but she had a great deal of research to do today--something about beginning to put together a consort candidate list for Andrell, on top of the usual fact-checking Father had her do--and not enough time to do it in. So she took one of the lamps from the wall and blew it out. The oil would remain hot for a few moments, and it was heavy enough to hurt by simple application of brute force. And the Archives were narrow and crowded, and she knew them as no one else did. It should be enough to keep her safe.
Besides. If she did need more help, she could scream even louder than Tana when she put her mind to it.
Carefully, Keta nudged the door open with her foot, tightening her grip on the lamp. She bit back a cry of dismay at the ransacked archives--all her precautions would be for naught if the intruder heard her before she could sneak up on him. But oh, how it hurt to see. After all the work she'd put into organizing them, and searching through them over the years, after all the comfort the neatness of her Archives--as she couldn't help but think of them--had provided after the accident...to see it ruined like this was a terrible blow.
"Keta!"
She didn't know whether to laugh or cry when she saw Mellir, frazzled, sitting on the floor surrounded by upended boxes.
"What did you do?" she finally managed to ask, setting the lamp down.
He at least had the grace to look shamefaced--he often did, when she caught him doing something he shouldn't. Which, even after all her warnings, was still distressingly often.
He stood up and brushed off his pants. "I was...a boy was arrested today. I was...um. One of my..."
"This happened near where your actress friend lives?"
Mellir looked horrified. "You know about her?"
Keta rolled her eyes. "I never did stop keeping an eye on you, little brother." And occasionally researched his friends. Not that she particularly enjoyed knowing who her brother was sleeping with, but keeping company with bad influences had so often led him astray. She would be a poor excuse for an older sister if she didn't look out for him. Not that she could do much when she found that his new friends were just as bad as the old, but...
She had to do something.
He looked angry now. "I'm thirty-two, Keta."
Keta pointedly looked at the chaos around her, and he ducked his head, conceding the point. She sighed. "What about this arrest made you ransack the Archives?"
He bent down and started shoving scrolls into boxes again. She winced inwardly, and made a mental note to inform her father and her guards that she would probably be sleeping down here for the next week or so, cleaning up Mellir's mess.
She should really get him to help, come to think of it.
"He looked familiar," Mellir finally said.
Keta's eyebrows shot up. True, some of Mellir's friends were a half-step up from criminal at best, but he usually either dropped them or talked the authorities down when they were in danger of arrest. He had some sense, despite what Kellom and her sisters thought. "Familiar how?"
"I don't know, that's why I'm down here," Mellir said, and sighed himself. "He was...dark. Not Islands-dark, Glass-dark. I don't know him personally, I don't think. Younger than Andrell, a bit."
...possibly a merchant trader? He might have run into one in a tavern and forgotten after drinking too much... Then again, Mellir had referred to him as a child. But a child not much younger than Andrell might be able to drink in a tavern. Mellir certainly had, as often as he could, as young as fifteen...
"You thought there might be something in the Archives to help?" she asked.
Mellir nodded.
"You could have waited and asked me," she pointed out.
He flushed. "I know. I just..." He sighed. "Will you? Help me?"
Keta smiled a little. "Of course. All you have to do is ask." She carefully stepped over the heaps he'd left, heading to her section on the City of Glass. She had some old portraits, of the royal line and the most important merchant houses. Perhaps one of them might spark his memory. "Was there anything else unusual about this boy?"
Mellir followed her, and didn't answer right away. "His leg wasn't real. He fell down, while they were putting his dragon out--"
"Dragon?"
"It was sort of impressive," Mellir said. "Very flashy. But the point is, he had a false leg."
Keta stopped. "...when you say a bit younger than Andrell...was he around the same age as the twins?"
"About, I suppose? They all sort of blend together around that age..."
A fire-mage, missing a leg, around her twin nephews' age.
Oh, gods.
Keta sped up, and found the first male Glass royal portrait she could find. "Did he look anything like this?"
Mellir squinted, and held up a hand, as if to block off part of the face. "Around the eyes, yes. Why?"
She dropped the portrait and took his hand, picking her way around the piles of documents as fast as she could. "We need to see Father. Now." Ignoring Mellir's protests, she dragged him out and started running as soon as they were out.
Mage or no, a foreign prince had just been arrested. Keta could only imagine the kind of hell that was going to rain down on them now.
Story: Urgency
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Iceberg #12. snowman, Red #13. redheaded stepchild
Supplies and Materials: eraser (Discovery AU), brush (factotum), fabric, charcoal, pastels (my current gen + romance card G2 "truth"), seed beads, yarn, glitter ("Pressure is something you feel when you don’t know what the hell you’re doing." – Peyton Manning), glue ("You may be able to get away with some mischief today, but don't push your luck too far or your day could implode. However, even if you go overboard, you should be able to get everything back on track quickly.")
Word Count: 1007
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Mellir, Keta
Warnings: Dehumanization of mages, references to enslavement, implied alcoholism, brief reference to familial death
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. That yarn prompt looks weirdly like a dragon to me. IDK. This takes place in an alternate 986 FY.
The lock on the Archives door had been picked.
...what in the name of...?
Keta knew well that none of her siblings shared her interest in the history of their nation (or the rest of the world) beyond what they absolutely needed to know for immediate tasks. If they wanted more information, they asked her. And, of course, any non-family-member who wanted access to the Archives knew to ask for the key.
She considered turning back, summoning help, but she had a great deal of research to do today--something about beginning to put together a consort candidate list for Andrell, on top of the usual fact-checking Father had her do--and not enough time to do it in. So she took one of the lamps from the wall and blew it out. The oil would remain hot for a few moments, and it was heavy enough to hurt by simple application of brute force. And the Archives were narrow and crowded, and she knew them as no one else did. It should be enough to keep her safe.
Besides. If she did need more help, she could scream even louder than Tana when she put her mind to it.
Carefully, Keta nudged the door open with her foot, tightening her grip on the lamp. She bit back a cry of dismay at the ransacked archives--all her precautions would be for naught if the intruder heard her before she could sneak up on him. But oh, how it hurt to see. After all the work she'd put into organizing them, and searching through them over the years, after all the comfort the neatness of her Archives--as she couldn't help but think of them--had provided after the accident...to see it ruined like this was a terrible blow.
"Keta!"
She didn't know whether to laugh or cry when she saw Mellir, frazzled, sitting on the floor surrounded by upended boxes.
"What did you do?" she finally managed to ask, setting the lamp down.
He at least had the grace to look shamefaced--he often did, when she caught him doing something he shouldn't. Which, even after all her warnings, was still distressingly often.
He stood up and brushed off his pants. "I was...a boy was arrested today. I was...um. One of my..."
"This happened near where your actress friend lives?"
Mellir looked horrified. "You know about her?"
Keta rolled her eyes. "I never did stop keeping an eye on you, little brother." And occasionally researched his friends. Not that she particularly enjoyed knowing who her brother was sleeping with, but keeping company with bad influences had so often led him astray. She would be a poor excuse for an older sister if she didn't look out for him. Not that she could do much when she found that his new friends were just as bad as the old, but...
She had to do something.
He looked angry now. "I'm thirty-two, Keta."
Keta pointedly looked at the chaos around her, and he ducked his head, conceding the point. She sighed. "What about this arrest made you ransack the Archives?"
He bent down and started shoving scrolls into boxes again. She winced inwardly, and made a mental note to inform her father and her guards that she would probably be sleeping down here for the next week or so, cleaning up Mellir's mess.
She should really get him to help, come to think of it.
"He looked familiar," Mellir finally said.
Keta's eyebrows shot up. True, some of Mellir's friends were a half-step up from criminal at best, but he usually either dropped them or talked the authorities down when they were in danger of arrest. He had some sense, despite what Kellom and her sisters thought. "Familiar how?"
"I don't know, that's why I'm down here," Mellir said, and sighed himself. "He was...dark. Not Islands-dark, Glass-dark. I don't know him personally, I don't think. Younger than Andrell, a bit."
...possibly a merchant trader? He might have run into one in a tavern and forgotten after drinking too much... Then again, Mellir had referred to him as a child. But a child not much younger than Andrell might be able to drink in a tavern. Mellir certainly had, as often as he could, as young as fifteen...
"You thought there might be something in the Archives to help?" she asked.
Mellir nodded.
"You could have waited and asked me," she pointed out.
He flushed. "I know. I just..." He sighed. "Will you? Help me?"
Keta smiled a little. "Of course. All you have to do is ask." She carefully stepped over the heaps he'd left, heading to her section on the City of Glass. She had some old portraits, of the royal line and the most important merchant houses. Perhaps one of them might spark his memory. "Was there anything else unusual about this boy?"
Mellir followed her, and didn't answer right away. "His leg wasn't real. He fell down, while they were putting his dragon out--"
"Dragon?"
"It was sort of impressive," Mellir said. "Very flashy. But the point is, he had a false leg."
Keta stopped. "...when you say a bit younger than Andrell...was he around the same age as the twins?"
"About, I suppose? They all sort of blend together around that age..."
A fire-mage, missing a leg, around her twin nephews' age.
Oh, gods.
Keta sped up, and found the first male Glass royal portrait she could find. "Did he look anything like this?"
Mellir squinted, and held up a hand, as if to block off part of the face. "Around the eyes, yes. Why?"
She dropped the portrait and took his hand, picking her way around the piles of documents as fast as she could. "We need to see Father. Now." Ignoring Mellir's protests, she dragged him out and started running as soon as they were out.
Mage or no, a foreign prince had just been arrested. Keta could only imagine the kind of hell that was going to rain down on them now.
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Yeah. She looks after Mellir until he dies, then after the war takes care of Tana. For both of which I am very proud of her, though things probably would've gone better for him if she hadn't covered for Mellir quite as often as she does.
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Yep, lots of changes. Though I'm still toying with it. The idea's been in my head for a while, and then the other day Mellir was whining that I never let him do anything productive (not that he makes it easy -_-;;) and this happened.