shadowsong26 (
shadowsong26) wrote in
rainbowfic2022-08-31 10:28 pm
Halloween Orange #5, White Russian #5
Name: shadowsong26
Story: To Just Be
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Halloween Orange #5. An island's not a prison -- that's what men make bridges for., White Russian #5. Дарёному коню́ в зу́бы не смо́трят. (Don't look a gift horse in the mouth.)
Supplies and Materials: graffiti (Lilith Faire Day 8: Village Stage), photography, brush (brandish), fabric
Word Count: 206
Rating: PG
Characters: Riluke
Warnings: References to murders/political violence and status of bastards.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always.
Sometimes, Riluke likes to walk along the beach at sunset, and just…be for a while.
Not be the ambassador or the courtier or the spy. Not think about the secrets she knows, and wields as sword and shield for her people’s interests.
Not really think about what she’s lost or gained--her unofficial exile, her father’s probable murder; her bastard status, and the freedom and the hurt it gives her; her immense power as ambassador and spymaster for the Crystal Throne.
She just likes to wander, to feel the sand beneath her feet, and how different it is from the sand at home. To feel the heavy heat of the Islands fade into twilight, and how different it is from the dry heat of the desert she still carries in her heart. To watch the sun set over the water, and remember the sunset shimmering through glass…
To simply exist, in all her parts, both of and outside every world she’s ever inhabited.
Thinking about it can resume later. Acting on it will come later.
But sometimes, Riluke just steps away for a while, to breathe and be and feel it. And the beach at sunset, outside her residence, is a beautiful place to simply be.
Story: To Just Be
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Halloween Orange #5. An island's not a prison -- that's what men make bridges for., White Russian #5. Дарёному коню́ в зу́бы не смо́трят. (Don't look a gift horse in the mouth.)
Supplies and Materials: graffiti (Lilith Faire Day 8: Village Stage), photography, brush (brandish), fabric
Word Count: 206
Rating: PG
Characters: Riluke
Warnings: References to murders/political violence and status of bastards.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always.
Sometimes, Riluke likes to walk along the beach at sunset, and just…be for a while.
Not be the ambassador or the courtier or the spy. Not think about the secrets she knows, and wields as sword and shield for her people’s interests.
Not really think about what she’s lost or gained--her unofficial exile, her father’s probable murder; her bastard status, and the freedom and the hurt it gives her; her immense power as ambassador and spymaster for the Crystal Throne.
She just likes to wander, to feel the sand beneath her feet, and how different it is from the sand at home. To feel the heavy heat of the Islands fade into twilight, and how different it is from the dry heat of the desert she still carries in her heart. To watch the sun set over the water, and remember the sunset shimmering through glass…
To simply exist, in all her parts, both of and outside every world she’s ever inhabited.
Thinking about it can resume later. Acting on it will come later.
But sometimes, Riluke just steps away for a while, to breathe and be and feel it. And the beach at sunset, outside her residence, is a beautiful place to simply be.

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Yeah, I should go into more detail there, shouldn't I. It was a very convincing accident on a flight of stairs, but we all know Kesshare, so...yeah.