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rainbowfic2017-04-30 07:16 pm
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2017-04-30 07:16 pm
Grey, Kingfisher Blue #9
Name: shadowsong26
Story: The Aftermath
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Grey, Kingfisher Blue #9. 為善不欲人知 (those who do good deeds should not do them out of desire for attention)
Supplies and Materials: graffiti (April Showers), saturation, miniature collection, photography, eraser (Assassination AU), brush (orientate)
Word Count: 1000
Rating: R
Characters: Mellir
Warnings: References to genocide and fratricide and excessive drinking and sex.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. More of this AU can be found here.
10. grey goose
The strange thing was, Mellir wasn't actually drunk when he killed Kellom.
...well, not by his standards, anyway. He was maybe a little drunk. But not enough to count. No more than usual.
Which might have at least contributed to the whole surreal quality of that night; that strange state of half-drunk, not-quite-sober he’d been in at the time. Between that, and the fact that he'd actually succeeded...
None of it felt real. It was, he knew that, but it didn’t feel real. He still half-expected to blink and find everything normal again.
And, sometimes, he almost wished he would.
8. the men in grey suits
So, the guards came, after Kellom had died, and they were always there now. They weren’t, before—other than general palace security. Apparently, he hadn't merited further protection, despite being crown prince.
That made him feel a little less bad about the whole thing, because clearly Kellom had hoped he'd get himself killed, so Andrell could inherit. That meant that he was defending himself. Sort of. This, on top of the hell the kingdom was descending into under his too-perfect brother’s wise leadership.
Anyway, the guards didn't bother him, exactly. It just...took some getting used to, having someone always there.
2. greyscale
He was moved into Kellom's old suite--not that he particularly wanted it. For one thing, it wasn't fair to Fera, as she had to evacuate her adjoining rooms. His sister-in-law had suffered enough.
But it was the King's suite, and he was now the King, and so he moved.
His first, half-hysterical thought was that Kellom had terrible taste in decorating. All swords and armor; not a drop of color to be found aside from an illuminated map on one wall.
He would have to fix that, and soon. He simply couldn't sleep in his brother's cold, forbidding rooms.
6. grey matter
Mellir wasn’t stupid. Or, he was smarter than people seemed to believe, at least. He had put some thought into this--what he would do, when (if) he inherited.
For example, he knew the Purge was doing more harm than good. Ignoring the fact that it wasn’t entirely ethical, Kellom clearly had no plan to replace what he was destroying. There was a lot of infrastructure that required conscripted mage labor to function.
His plans needed refining, of course, before they were ready to implement, but he had thought about it.
If only he could convince his ministers of that.
4. grey mood
It wasn't anything new, but Mellir felt he was stuck in a rut. Like he was just going through the motions, repeating the same actions and mistakes over and over again, accomplishing nothing. It was--well, he'd always thought that, when he became King--if he became King--he’d change all of that. That things would somehow be different.
They weren't.
It probably shouldn’t have been, but it was an uncomfortable, distressing feeling. But it was his own damn fault, anyway. He'd somehow find a way to make things work. He just--couldn't see it from where he stood now.
7. all cats are grey at night
Since his ascension, he’d found it hard to see Vesa in the city. But he couldn't exactly install her at court. Especially since numerous factions, now finding him important, were shoving female relatives at him. And his ministers were already needling him about remarrying.
Well, he could handle this. He would see Vesa, soon. Neither wanted their relationship to end yet.
But he'd had simultaneous court and city mistresses before. And some of the ladies had caught his eye. The politics, though--complicated things.
He'd consult Sola. And try to avoid falling in love with someone who would destroy him.
5. going grey
Mellir was beginning to understand why his father had died relatively young, at only sixty-three.
Of course, these were difficult times. The nation was at war, the city was in chaos, he faced a stubborn, obstructionist council--also, he had murdered his way into this mess and was just waiting for someone to find out. True, his father had only had to deal with one of those problems.
But being King was incredibly stressful. Even the regular business of the throne--assuming he ever managed to work on it--seemed draining. Mellir could feel himself prematurely aging by the minute.
1. shades of grey
Too many of the decisions Mellir made now were a choice between the lesser of two evils. Everyone was a little bit right, and everyone was a little bit wrong. Or, at the very least, most people were well-intentioned.
And pleasing one faction naturally meant alienating another. He was eternally grateful that he had Sola to help him keep it all straight. Even sober, it was a monumental task.
Kellom had been a fanatic. Mellir had always suspected, and was now absolutely sure, that he hadn't cared about that balance.
No wonder he had brought them so close to ruin.
9. greyhound
He did worry about getting caught. Well, to a point. His council underestimated him; they wouldn’t believe it. Tana thought so little of him; he was safe there. Keta loved him more than he deserved; she would deny it. Deva would like him better, and Sola would work with him either way. …probably.
But Andrell--he didn't know. He had loved Kellom, but had strong Movement ties. Mellir didn't know how Andrell would take it. But he was likeliest to put it together, believe it, and care.
Mellir worried about that. Not just getting caught, but getting caught by Andrell.
3. grey area
Mellir would never claim he was altruistic. Yes, Kellom was destructive, and he’d wanted to make him stop. But mostly he’d wanted to prove he was just as good as his too-perfect brother.
So, there it was.
He’d murdered Kellom. He’d done it to become King. This was a terrible thing to do.
But he was trying to do right. To stop the Purge, end the war, and keep his people alive. He’d done a terrible thing, yes, and largely out of selfish ambition, but he did want to make things better, too.
That had to count for something, right?
Story: The Aftermath
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Grey, Kingfisher Blue #9. 為善不欲人知 (those who do good deeds should not do them out of desire for attention)
Supplies and Materials: graffiti (April Showers), saturation, miniature collection, photography, eraser (Assassination AU), brush (orientate)
Word Count: 1000
Rating: R
Characters: Mellir
Warnings: References to genocide and fratricide and excessive drinking and sex.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. More of this AU can be found here.
10. grey goose
The strange thing was, Mellir wasn't actually drunk when he killed Kellom.
...well, not by his standards, anyway. He was maybe a little drunk. But not enough to count. No more than usual.
Which might have at least contributed to the whole surreal quality of that night; that strange state of half-drunk, not-quite-sober he’d been in at the time. Between that, and the fact that he'd actually succeeded...
None of it felt real. It was, he knew that, but it didn’t feel real. He still half-expected to blink and find everything normal again.
And, sometimes, he almost wished he would.
8. the men in grey suits
So, the guards came, after Kellom had died, and they were always there now. They weren’t, before—other than general palace security. Apparently, he hadn't merited further protection, despite being crown prince.
That made him feel a little less bad about the whole thing, because clearly Kellom had hoped he'd get himself killed, so Andrell could inherit. That meant that he was defending himself. Sort of. This, on top of the hell the kingdom was descending into under his too-perfect brother’s wise leadership.
Anyway, the guards didn't bother him, exactly. It just...took some getting used to, having someone always there.
2. greyscale
He was moved into Kellom's old suite--not that he particularly wanted it. For one thing, it wasn't fair to Fera, as she had to evacuate her adjoining rooms. His sister-in-law had suffered enough.
But it was the King's suite, and he was now the King, and so he moved.
His first, half-hysterical thought was that Kellom had terrible taste in decorating. All swords and armor; not a drop of color to be found aside from an illuminated map on one wall.
He would have to fix that, and soon. He simply couldn't sleep in his brother's cold, forbidding rooms.
6. grey matter
Mellir wasn’t stupid. Or, he was smarter than people seemed to believe, at least. He had put some thought into this--what he would do, when (if) he inherited.
For example, he knew the Purge was doing more harm than good. Ignoring the fact that it wasn’t entirely ethical, Kellom clearly had no plan to replace what he was destroying. There was a lot of infrastructure that required conscripted mage labor to function.
His plans needed refining, of course, before they were ready to implement, but he had thought about it.
If only he could convince his ministers of that.
4. grey mood
It wasn't anything new, but Mellir felt he was stuck in a rut. Like he was just going through the motions, repeating the same actions and mistakes over and over again, accomplishing nothing. It was--well, he'd always thought that, when he became King--if he became King--he’d change all of that. That things would somehow be different.
They weren't.
It probably shouldn’t have been, but it was an uncomfortable, distressing feeling. But it was his own damn fault, anyway. He'd somehow find a way to make things work. He just--couldn't see it from where he stood now.
7. all cats are grey at night
Since his ascension, he’d found it hard to see Vesa in the city. But he couldn't exactly install her at court. Especially since numerous factions, now finding him important, were shoving female relatives at him. And his ministers were already needling him about remarrying.
Well, he could handle this. He would see Vesa, soon. Neither wanted their relationship to end yet.
But he'd had simultaneous court and city mistresses before. And some of the ladies had caught his eye. The politics, though--complicated things.
He'd consult Sola. And try to avoid falling in love with someone who would destroy him.
5. going grey
Mellir was beginning to understand why his father had died relatively young, at only sixty-three.
Of course, these were difficult times. The nation was at war, the city was in chaos, he faced a stubborn, obstructionist council--also, he had murdered his way into this mess and was just waiting for someone to find out. True, his father had only had to deal with one of those problems.
But being King was incredibly stressful. Even the regular business of the throne--assuming he ever managed to work on it--seemed draining. Mellir could feel himself prematurely aging by the minute.
1. shades of grey
Too many of the decisions Mellir made now were a choice between the lesser of two evils. Everyone was a little bit right, and everyone was a little bit wrong. Or, at the very least, most people were well-intentioned.
And pleasing one faction naturally meant alienating another. He was eternally grateful that he had Sola to help him keep it all straight. Even sober, it was a monumental task.
Kellom had been a fanatic. Mellir had always suspected, and was now absolutely sure, that he hadn't cared about that balance.
No wonder he had brought them so close to ruin.
9. greyhound
He did worry about getting caught. Well, to a point. His council underestimated him; they wouldn’t believe it. Tana thought so little of him; he was safe there. Keta loved him more than he deserved; she would deny it. Deva would like him better, and Sola would work with him either way. …probably.
But Andrell--he didn't know. He had loved Kellom, but had strong Movement ties. Mellir didn't know how Andrell would take it. But he was likeliest to put it together, believe it, and care.
Mellir worried about that. Not just getting caught, but getting caught by Andrell.
3. grey area
Mellir would never claim he was altruistic. Yes, Kellom was destructive, and he’d wanted to make him stop. But mostly he’d wanted to prove he was just as good as his too-perfect brother.
So, there it was.
He’d murdered Kellom. He’d done it to become King. This was a terrible thing to do.
But he was trying to do right. To stop the Purge, end the war, and keep his people alive. He’d done a terrible thing, yes, and largely out of selfish ambition, but he did want to make things better, too.
That had to count for something, right?
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no subject
Yeah, that's--pretty much Mellir's life, in the AUs where he actually gets to do things. Particularly this one...