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rainbowfic2015-08-18 07:18 pm
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2015-08-18 07:18 pm
Earth #9, Milk Bottle #18
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Mourning
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Earth #9. temperance, Milk Bottle #18. Daredevil
Supplies and Materials: graffiti (Lillith Faire Village Stage), photography, frame (1025 FY)
Word Count: 458
Rating: R
Characters: Kesshare
Warnings: Character/family death
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. Sorry for the three bleak ones today...will try to do better tomorrow.
Kesshare watched, impassive, as her only son’s ashes were interred.
Her daughters stood to either side of her. Kirana’s face was as blank as her own--though she knew that her youngest was using priestly dignity to hide a storm the likes of which Kesshare had never weathered. And Nolani, all ability to maintain composure used up for the public service the day before, wept in the arms of her favorite; Isselu, head bowed and melancholy, stood behind his mother as another pillar of support.
She wasn’t sure whether it was a blessing or a curse that Ineku wasn’t here to see this. It would have crushed him, of course, he was such a sensitive man; but he would have been a better support for their daughters and granddaughter than she could ever be.
Roneli, for her part, seemed to be in some sort of shock in the wake of her father’s death. Kesshare thought she could recognize the signs, and made a note to prepare for her devastation when the loss finally felt real. Especially since the girl was on the verge of her wildfire years--which were, to be fair, not as dangerous for her, since she was a lightning-mage and not fire, but still a volatile time.
As for herself…
Well, what could one say, at such a time? Isshiri had been far more of a trial to her than either of the girls--his refusal to play politics, his constant disappearances, his eternal wandering into places where he had no business being, his thrice-damned marriage… He had been more like a river than a flame, in that way, cutting his own course whether it suited her needs or not.
And yet, at the same time, he had been far more of an asset than she had ever dreamed, once she had learned how to aim him in the directions she wanted him to go; or, more accurately, how to put things she wanted him to deal with in his path. Without him, she would never have been able to conduct the War the way she wanted, and lay the foundation for her empire. He had given her more information about the world she sought to rule than any save Riluke--different information than his cousin, to be sure, but no less valuable. And he had provided her with a grandchild who was wholly hers, in a way that Isselu, for all his greater importance to her plans, never could be.
Did she mourn? No. Such things were not in her nature. But, in her own way, in that part of her she allowed to indulge in might-have-beens, she wished he hadn’t died. She had wanted so much more for her only son than to see him dead so soon.
Story: Mourning
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Earth #9. temperance, Milk Bottle #18. Daredevil
Supplies and Materials: graffiti (Lillith Faire Village Stage), photography, frame (1025 FY)
Word Count: 458
Rating: R
Characters: Kesshare
Warnings: Character/family death
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. Sorry for the three bleak ones today...will try to do better tomorrow.
Kesshare watched, impassive, as her only son’s ashes were interred.
Her daughters stood to either side of her. Kirana’s face was as blank as her own--though she knew that her youngest was using priestly dignity to hide a storm the likes of which Kesshare had never weathered. And Nolani, all ability to maintain composure used up for the public service the day before, wept in the arms of her favorite; Isselu, head bowed and melancholy, stood behind his mother as another pillar of support.
She wasn’t sure whether it was a blessing or a curse that Ineku wasn’t here to see this. It would have crushed him, of course, he was such a sensitive man; but he would have been a better support for their daughters and granddaughter than she could ever be.
Roneli, for her part, seemed to be in some sort of shock in the wake of her father’s death. Kesshare thought she could recognize the signs, and made a note to prepare for her devastation when the loss finally felt real. Especially since the girl was on the verge of her wildfire years--which were, to be fair, not as dangerous for her, since she was a lightning-mage and not fire, but still a volatile time.
As for herself…
Well, what could one say, at such a time? Isshiri had been far more of a trial to her than either of the girls--his refusal to play politics, his constant disappearances, his eternal wandering into places where he had no business being, his thrice-damned marriage… He had been more like a river than a flame, in that way, cutting his own course whether it suited her needs or not.
And yet, at the same time, he had been far more of an asset than she had ever dreamed, once she had learned how to aim him in the directions she wanted him to go; or, more accurately, how to put things she wanted him to deal with in his path. Without him, she would never have been able to conduct the War the way she wanted, and lay the foundation for her empire. He had given her more information about the world she sought to rule than any save Riluke--different information than his cousin, to be sure, but no less valuable. And he had provided her with a grandchild who was wholly hers, in a way that Isselu, for all his greater importance to her plans, never could be.
Did she mourn? No. Such things were not in her nature. But, in her own way, in that part of her she allowed to indulge in might-have-beens, she wished he hadn’t died. She had wanted so much more for her only son than to see him dead so soon.
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She really is. This also told me the second of two things I know about Isshiri's death, which is that there was no foul play involved. Otherwise, she wouldn't be grieving-ish, she'd be pissed. So, yeah. Good to know...