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rainbowfic2012-03-15 07:07 pm
bookblather) wrote in rainbowfic2012-03-15 07:07 pm
Yellow 14, Red 8: Building Up
Author: Kat
Title: Building Up
Story: Iron Plum Blossom
Colors: Yellow 14 (canary yellow), red 8 (red delicious).
Supplies and Materials: Reimaging (of Don't Let Them Pull You Down), miniature collection, collage, brush (instauration), oils (fire and ice), pastels (diplomacy).
Word Count: 900
Rating: PG
Summary: Eithne in Dalraida.
Warnings: Violence.
Notes: I have owed Isana this story for an embarrassingly long time. SORRY BB.
When the word comes that they're to go to Dalraida, the others are wary, but Eithne is excited. New places, new people, new things to see, and it'll be her that sees them, that meets those new people and tastes new, strange foods.
She can see it already; herself seated prettily on a pile of cushions, surrounded by the two-leggeds who gaze on her with admiring eyes, selecting from an array of new dishes prepared just for her, with one or two of her new friends beside her, laughing and sharing jokes.
The others are afraid, but Eithne can't wait.
It's not quite like she imagined.
For one thing, the two-leggeds are afraid of her. Eithne knew they would be, but she thought her friendliness would make up for it. It plainly hasn't, which makes her sad-- there go all those lovely new friends. It's cold, too, and so grey.
It's not as good as she imagined, but it's not as bad as it could be. She has Meleri, after all, to sit and gossip with, to brush her hair and giggle over boys. Meleri is more serious than Eithne, but she laughs so prettily.
She likes Dalraida, Eithne decides.
There's a lovely girl sitting on a bench, sorting through her food. She looks like a china doll, with pale skin and oil-black hair, and such graceful movements that Eithne would be envious if she ever envied. She must be the human, Eithne decides, and she must be lonely. And Eithne's never been one to let a lonely person stay lonely.
She bounces over, projecting cheer as best she can. "Hello, there!" she chirps, and the girl looks up sharply, surprise and an odd touch of hope on her face.
Eithne decides then and there that they will be friends.
The doll-girl's name is Yuyan, but she likes to be called Yan. She's very modest, and beautiful. She's generous-- she made Eithne the most gorgeous knot to wear-- and sweet, and a delight.
Eithne adores her.
She knows, too, that there's something wrong. There's dark circles under Yan's eyes, and her pale skin is paler than usual. She's quiet, and sad, no matter how Eithne tries to cheer her.
But Yan insists she's all right, and there's nothing Eithne can do if she won't share. So she's cheery, and she worries, and she waits.
Yan has to tell her sometime.
Eithne is there in the crowd when Yan finally defeats the obstacle course, cheering until her voice cracks and her throat grows rough. It's so wonderful to see Yan, moving like lightning across the summer sky, dodging and running and gliding at one point, like something out of a story. Eithne claps until her hands sting.
That's my friend, she wants to shout, wants to grab the nearest person and say That's my friend, isn't she amazing? She's so proud she thinks she might burst.
She lets the suspicions slip away. Nothing can be wrong on a day like this.
She's there in the crowd when everything goes wrong.
First the fire, filling her lungs with smoke, smudging her face with ash. Then Yan, like a miracle, flying water up and people down until everyone was safe. Then Taran attacking her, with bloodthorn, and Yan attacking him, destroying him.
Eithne doesn't know what to think. That's not Yan, her china doll friend; that's a stranger, enraged like ice, and frightening. But that's not Taran, who she's known all her life; that's a stranger, a monster wearing his skin.
Everything's gone wrong, and she has no idea how to fix it.
She visits Taran in the infirmary.
"Tell me," she says, "why you did it. Why would you attack her? She was trying to help!"
He scowls, and spits from bruised lips. "She was only trying to make herself look better. I'm sorry, Eithne, I know you thought she was your friend..."
She shakes her head, cutting him off. "She is my friend," she says, sharply. "And she was trying to help. Why would you do that, Taran?"
He touches her arm. "I only wanted to show them what she really is."
Eithne pulls away.
She knows who Yan really is.
She's a little afraid, when she sees Yan. Not that she thinks Yan will hurt her. But not so long ago she thought Yan wouldn't hurt anyone, and now she doesn't know what to think. She can still see that furious stranger behind Yan's sweet face.
But Yan is hurt and tired, pale as milk in her bed. She looks so small and sad that Eithne wants to comfort her, protect her, bring her flowers until she gets strong and well again.
The stranger may be there still, but she'll never see her. That's all she really needs to know.
On a freezing winter day, with snow laid over the ground like lace, Yan walks back into the compound, and Eithne can scarely believe her eyes.
If she's walking, she's well enough to be hugged, so Eithne does just that, tackling her to the ground, dusting snow in her friend's ink-black hair. "You're back!" she shrieks, overjoyed. "You're back! Oh, I’m so glad! I thought you’d never return!”
Yan laughs, shaking them both, and hugs her back. "Sorry I took so long," she says, grinning.
Eithne beams back. Everything's all right now. Everything's going to be fine.
She loves Dalraida.
Title: Building Up
Story: Iron Plum Blossom
Colors: Yellow 14 (canary yellow), red 8 (red delicious).
Supplies and Materials: Reimaging (of Don't Let Them Pull You Down), miniature collection, collage, brush (instauration), oils (fire and ice), pastels (diplomacy).
Word Count: 900
Rating: PG
Summary: Eithne in Dalraida.
Warnings: Violence.
Notes: I have owed Isana this story for an embarrassingly long time. SORRY BB.
When the word comes that they're to go to Dalraida, the others are wary, but Eithne is excited. New places, new people, new things to see, and it'll be her that sees them, that meets those new people and tastes new, strange foods.
She can see it already; herself seated prettily on a pile of cushions, surrounded by the two-leggeds who gaze on her with admiring eyes, selecting from an array of new dishes prepared just for her, with one or two of her new friends beside her, laughing and sharing jokes.
The others are afraid, but Eithne can't wait.
It's not quite like she imagined.
For one thing, the two-leggeds are afraid of her. Eithne knew they would be, but she thought her friendliness would make up for it. It plainly hasn't, which makes her sad-- there go all those lovely new friends. It's cold, too, and so grey.
It's not as good as she imagined, but it's not as bad as it could be. She has Meleri, after all, to sit and gossip with, to brush her hair and giggle over boys. Meleri is more serious than Eithne, but she laughs so prettily.
She likes Dalraida, Eithne decides.
There's a lovely girl sitting on a bench, sorting through her food. She looks like a china doll, with pale skin and oil-black hair, and such graceful movements that Eithne would be envious if she ever envied. She must be the human, Eithne decides, and she must be lonely. And Eithne's never been one to let a lonely person stay lonely.
She bounces over, projecting cheer as best she can. "Hello, there!" she chirps, and the girl looks up sharply, surprise and an odd touch of hope on her face.
Eithne decides then and there that they will be friends.
The doll-girl's name is Yuyan, but she likes to be called Yan. She's very modest, and beautiful. She's generous-- she made Eithne the most gorgeous knot to wear-- and sweet, and a delight.
Eithne adores her.
She knows, too, that there's something wrong. There's dark circles under Yan's eyes, and her pale skin is paler than usual. She's quiet, and sad, no matter how Eithne tries to cheer her.
But Yan insists she's all right, and there's nothing Eithne can do if she won't share. So she's cheery, and she worries, and she waits.
Yan has to tell her sometime.
Eithne is there in the crowd when Yan finally defeats the obstacle course, cheering until her voice cracks and her throat grows rough. It's so wonderful to see Yan, moving like lightning across the summer sky, dodging and running and gliding at one point, like something out of a story. Eithne claps until her hands sting.
That's my friend, she wants to shout, wants to grab the nearest person and say That's my friend, isn't she amazing? She's so proud she thinks she might burst.
She lets the suspicions slip away. Nothing can be wrong on a day like this.
She's there in the crowd when everything goes wrong.
First the fire, filling her lungs with smoke, smudging her face with ash. Then Yan, like a miracle, flying water up and people down until everyone was safe. Then Taran attacking her, with bloodthorn, and Yan attacking him, destroying him.
Eithne doesn't know what to think. That's not Yan, her china doll friend; that's a stranger, enraged like ice, and frightening. But that's not Taran, who she's known all her life; that's a stranger, a monster wearing his skin.
Everything's gone wrong, and she has no idea how to fix it.
She visits Taran in the infirmary.
"Tell me," she says, "why you did it. Why would you attack her? She was trying to help!"
He scowls, and spits from bruised lips. "She was only trying to make herself look better. I'm sorry, Eithne, I know you thought she was your friend..."
She shakes her head, cutting him off. "She is my friend," she says, sharply. "And she was trying to help. Why would you do that, Taran?"
He touches her arm. "I only wanted to show them what she really is."
Eithne pulls away.
She knows who Yan really is.
She's a little afraid, when she sees Yan. Not that she thinks Yan will hurt her. But not so long ago she thought Yan wouldn't hurt anyone, and now she doesn't know what to think. She can still see that furious stranger behind Yan's sweet face.
But Yan is hurt and tired, pale as milk in her bed. She looks so small and sad that Eithne wants to comfort her, protect her, bring her flowers until she gets strong and well again.
The stranger may be there still, but she'll never see her. That's all she really needs to know.
On a freezing winter day, with snow laid over the ground like lace, Yan walks back into the compound, and Eithne can scarely believe her eyes.
If she's walking, she's well enough to be hugged, so Eithne does just that, tackling her to the ground, dusting snow in her friend's ink-black hair. "You're back!" she shrieks, overjoyed. "You're back! Oh, I’m so glad! I thought you’d never return!”
Yan laughs, shaking them both, and hugs her back. "Sorry I took so long," she says, grinning.
Eithne beams back. Everything's all right now. Everything's going to be fine.
She loves Dalraida.