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rainbowfic2016-01-15 07:33 pm
kay_brooke) wrote in rainbowfic2016-01-15 07:33 pm
Bone #19, Celestial Blue #1, Plant Party #19
Can I get a tag for the plant party, please?
Name:kay_brooke
Story: The Myrrosta
Colors: Bone #19 (immortality), Celestial Blue #1 (Blessed), Plant Party #19 (bleeding heart)
Styles/Supplies: Canvas
Word Count: 1,004
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply.
Summary: The night Atro was born.
Notes: Pretty sure I've written a version of this before, but can't find it now. Anyway, here is a different version. Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
Degance stood in the corridor outside his chambers, tall and straight-backed, a look upon her face that one might have almost described as boredom. But Martyn knew his wife, and he saw the bags under her eyes, the way her hands trembled just slightly.
“You didn’t have to come yourself. You could have sent the midwife,” he admonished, and immediately regretted his sharp tone. He had no right. Degance was the one this hurt the most, even if she pretended otherwise.
“We must do something about the midwife,” said Degance, as if making conversation.
“I have paid her well for her silence,” said Martyn.
“That might not be enough.” Degance set off at a fast clip, resolutely heading toward the room where it had all happened.
Martyn jogged a bit to catch up with her. “What else would you have me do?”
She said nothing, but her sideways glance told him all he needed to know.
He stopped in his tracks, grabbing Degance’s arm to swing her around. “No. No one dies. Not for this.”
“What is worth a death, if not this?” But there was no true argument in her voice. They had stopped just at the top of the stairs to the atrium, and she gazed at the marble floor two storeys down as if the answer was written upon it. After a few moments of silence she shrugged her arm out of her husband’s grasp. “You’re right. But we must keep her in our sight.”
“She’ll be in Kandel before next Lastday,” Martyn argued. “That’s a bit beyond my influence.”
“Then how can we be certain she’ll maintain her silence?” Degance looked at him helplessly, as if he should had all the answers ready.
“And he should have. His was a precarious position, he knew, even moreso than Degance. If the deception was discovered, the fault would fall upon his head. His wife would be seen a victim of his lies, no matter how much of a hand she’d had in them herself. He wouldn’t have it any other way, of course, but it was imperative he keep his control, do whatever it took for the Court to stay within his family. He would not see Lindjer presiding over the Court, not while he drew breath.
He had taken as many precautions as he could: Degance hidden away in isolation for months, all servants dismissed this night, a well-paid Kandelian midwife who he had hoped would have no inclination to care or gossip about what the Jahartan Councilor was up to. And Mynlai herself, drugged and passed out in the bed, or so the midwife had promised.
The midwife was the weak link, he had to agree. But he couldn’t bring himself to contemplate having her killed. “Have you seen him?” he asked Degance, to move away from the uncomfortable subject.
Onto an even more uncomfortable one, judging by the way Degance’s shoulders stiffened. “I have not,” she said carefully. “He is your son.”
“And yours,” said Martyn. “One the city will believe came of your own body.”
“But we know the truth.” Degance nodded her head. “Go see him. He should know his father before all. I’ll be along presently.”
Martyn did not want to see the baby--his baby--alone. His wife was so much stronger and braver than he, and he needed her at his side. But to be so frightened was unbecoming of a Lord Councilor, so he merely returned Degance’s nod and continued down the corridor. His steps faltered only slightly as he passed by the door to Mynlai’s room; no sound came from within, but that told him nothing. Avoiding the temptation to peek and make sure she was truly asleep, he quicked his steps and turned down another corridor, coming finally upon the door to the nursery.
The midwife was inside, her pack ready to go, her face drawn into a frown. “Finally,” she snapped. “The evening’s done gone and it’s late. I’d wanted to be on the road by now.” The merchant’s tongue sat crudely in her mouth, but it was the only language she and Martyn had in common.
“How is he,” Martyn asked. He stepped closer to the cradle, hardly daring to look inside. What if the child looked strange? What if it would be impossible to hide his true parentage?
“Sleeping,” said the midwife. “But he’ll need feeding soon.”
“Of course,” said Martyn, distracted, as he finally stepped up to the cradle. “The nursemaid will be along.”
The baby was asleep, as the midwife had said, his limbs tightly swaddled and only his head visible. His skin was still the wrinkled flush of the newly born, but everything about him looked utterly normal. His ears were tiny, delicate, and rounded just as Martyn’s own. Sparse wisps of dark hair covered his head. The only concerning thing Martyn could see was that it was already evident his son would be uncommonly pale. But that may not be a terrible thing--Degance was already paler than most, so people would likely call it her influence.
“Good,” he whispered, more to himself than to either the baby or the midwife.
“If I have your permission to go?”
The midwife was far too impertinent in front of a Lord Councilor, but she was Kandelian, and he had good reason not to chastise her. “Yes,” he said.
She turned to go, but stopped at the doorway. “It’s unnatural, what he is,” she said.
Martyn looked over his shoulder at her. “You have been paid enough to forget this ever happened.”
“Indeed, my lord.” Voice dripping with sarcasm, but mercifully she departed.
“My son,” said Martyn softly, reaching out to touch him but stopping at the last moment, hand hovering above a slumber shoulder. He wasn’t quite ready for that yet. There was still much to do; sentiment could wait.
Still, as long as Mynlai was asleep there was time. So Martyn stood gazing into the cradle, and waited for Degance to join him.
Name:
kay_brookeStory: The Myrrosta
Colors: Bone #19 (immortality), Celestial Blue #1 (Blessed), Plant Party #19 (bleeding heart)
Styles/Supplies: Canvas
Word Count: 1,004
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply.
Summary: The night Atro was born.
Notes: Pretty sure I've written a version of this before, but can't find it now. Anyway, here is a different version. Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
Degance stood in the corridor outside his chambers, tall and straight-backed, a look upon her face that one might have almost described as boredom. But Martyn knew his wife, and he saw the bags under her eyes, the way her hands trembled just slightly.
“You didn’t have to come yourself. You could have sent the midwife,” he admonished, and immediately regretted his sharp tone. He had no right. Degance was the one this hurt the most, even if she pretended otherwise.
“We must do something about the midwife,” said Degance, as if making conversation.
“I have paid her well for her silence,” said Martyn.
“That might not be enough.” Degance set off at a fast clip, resolutely heading toward the room where it had all happened.
Martyn jogged a bit to catch up with her. “What else would you have me do?”
She said nothing, but her sideways glance told him all he needed to know.
He stopped in his tracks, grabbing Degance’s arm to swing her around. “No. No one dies. Not for this.”
“What is worth a death, if not this?” But there was no true argument in her voice. They had stopped just at the top of the stairs to the atrium, and she gazed at the marble floor two storeys down as if the answer was written upon it. After a few moments of silence she shrugged her arm out of her husband’s grasp. “You’re right. But we must keep her in our sight.”
“She’ll be in Kandel before next Lastday,” Martyn argued. “That’s a bit beyond my influence.”
“Then how can we be certain she’ll maintain her silence?” Degance looked at him helplessly, as if he should had all the answers ready.
“And he should have. His was a precarious position, he knew, even moreso than Degance. If the deception was discovered, the fault would fall upon his head. His wife would be seen a victim of his lies, no matter how much of a hand she’d had in them herself. He wouldn’t have it any other way, of course, but it was imperative he keep his control, do whatever it took for the Court to stay within his family. He would not see Lindjer presiding over the Court, not while he drew breath.
He had taken as many precautions as he could: Degance hidden away in isolation for months, all servants dismissed this night, a well-paid Kandelian midwife who he had hoped would have no inclination to care or gossip about what the Jahartan Councilor was up to. And Mynlai herself, drugged and passed out in the bed, or so the midwife had promised.
The midwife was the weak link, he had to agree. But he couldn’t bring himself to contemplate having her killed. “Have you seen him?” he asked Degance, to move away from the uncomfortable subject.
Onto an even more uncomfortable one, judging by the way Degance’s shoulders stiffened. “I have not,” she said carefully. “He is your son.”
“And yours,” said Martyn. “One the city will believe came of your own body.”
“But we know the truth.” Degance nodded her head. “Go see him. He should know his father before all. I’ll be along presently.”
Martyn did not want to see the baby--his baby--alone. His wife was so much stronger and braver than he, and he needed her at his side. But to be so frightened was unbecoming of a Lord Councilor, so he merely returned Degance’s nod and continued down the corridor. His steps faltered only slightly as he passed by the door to Mynlai’s room; no sound came from within, but that told him nothing. Avoiding the temptation to peek and make sure she was truly asleep, he quicked his steps and turned down another corridor, coming finally upon the door to the nursery.
The midwife was inside, her pack ready to go, her face drawn into a frown. “Finally,” she snapped. “The evening’s done gone and it’s late. I’d wanted to be on the road by now.” The merchant’s tongue sat crudely in her mouth, but it was the only language she and Martyn had in common.
“How is he,” Martyn asked. He stepped closer to the cradle, hardly daring to look inside. What if the child looked strange? What if it would be impossible to hide his true parentage?
“Sleeping,” said the midwife. “But he’ll need feeding soon.”
“Of course,” said Martyn, distracted, as he finally stepped up to the cradle. “The nursemaid will be along.”
The baby was asleep, as the midwife had said, his limbs tightly swaddled and only his head visible. His skin was still the wrinkled flush of the newly born, but everything about him looked utterly normal. His ears were tiny, delicate, and rounded just as Martyn’s own. Sparse wisps of dark hair covered his head. The only concerning thing Martyn could see was that it was already evident his son would be uncommonly pale. But that may not be a terrible thing--Degance was already paler than most, so people would likely call it her influence.
“Good,” he whispered, more to himself than to either the baby or the midwife.
“If I have your permission to go?”
The midwife was far too impertinent in front of a Lord Councilor, but she was Kandelian, and he had good reason not to chastise her. “Yes,” he said.
She turned to go, but stopped at the doorway. “It’s unnatural, what he is,” she said.
Martyn looked over his shoulder at her. “You have been paid enough to forget this ever happened.”
“Indeed, my lord.” Voice dripping with sarcasm, but mercifully she departed.
“My son,” said Martyn softly, reaching out to touch him but stopping at the last moment, hand hovering above a slumber shoulder. He wasn’t quite ready for that yet. There was still much to do; sentiment could wait.
Still, as long as Mynlai was asleep there was time. So Martyn stood gazing into the cradle, and waited for Degance to join him.
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Your tag has been added.
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I've done that a million times myself, lost scenes I've written and they almost always turn up better than they did the first time from the time I had to rewrite it.
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Thanks for reading!
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