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rainbowfic2023-01-27 09:46 pm
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2023-01-27 09:46 pm
True Blue #21, Halloween Orange #12
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Still Here
'Verse: Untitled Intrigues Story
Colors: True Blue #21. The death of a friend is equivalent to the loss of a limb., Halloween Orange #12. Some little things get broken, and a little means a lot.
Supplies and Materials: tapestry (True Blue + novelty beads), canvas, pastels (Year of the OTP prompt list; January prompt 'whenever I look at you...'), novelty beads ("Take away the elements in the order of apparent non-importance")
Word Count: 343
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Larien, Metanrye
Warnings: Difficult childbirth/stillbirth/miscarriage. Background sexism.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. Larien and Metanrye are Landelye's parents.
He had been waiting for hours, forcing himself to sit still. His brothers had been in and out; the girls were gods alone knew where, probably Mother had them.
Metanrye hadn’t had any trouble with them, but this time…
Finally, just before dawn, it was over. A son, finally, but stillborn--of course stillborn; nearly three months early, how could he have lived?
“And the princess?” he said, forcing cool and calm when he felt anything else.
“She lives.”
He nodded, and stepped past the doctor, into the room where his wife was--still alive.
He reminded himself of that; counting his steps as he made his way to her bed. She was asleep or unconscious, waxy-pale and barely breathing.
But she was breathing.
Larien knew he should be disappointed. Father would be. Landelye and Rehanye, no matter how clever they might grow up to be, would never be queen. Idan was capable enough, but a direct inheritance was always more stable than taking a step to the side.
And yet he didn’t care. He couldn’t care. Not right now. Perhaps in the morning, he would remember the practical considerations; certainly in the morning he would grieve with his wife for the child they had lost.
But for now, all that mattered was that she was still alive. Still here with him. And, as drained and fragile as she looked, lying there, he saw the same thing he always had, whenever he looked at her.
Lovers might come and go; he and Metanrye were young and could try again; he’d find a solution to the problem of an heir one way or another. Politics and pleasure were always there for the taking, especially for him.
But there was only one Metanrye. If not from the moment he’d met her, it hadn’t taken much longer to see she was exactly what he needed. His future queen, his beloved--his partner.
He raised her too-cool hand to his lips, and settled himself a little more comfortably in the chair to wait for her to wake.
Story: Still Here
'Verse: Untitled Intrigues Story
Colors: True Blue #21. The death of a friend is equivalent to the loss of a limb., Halloween Orange #12. Some little things get broken, and a little means a lot.
Supplies and Materials: tapestry (True Blue + novelty beads), canvas, pastels (Year of the OTP prompt list; January prompt 'whenever I look at you...'), novelty beads ("Take away the elements in the order of apparent non-importance")
Word Count: 343
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Larien, Metanrye
Warnings: Difficult childbirth/stillbirth/miscarriage. Background sexism.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. Larien and Metanrye are Landelye's parents.
He had been waiting for hours, forcing himself to sit still. His brothers had been in and out; the girls were gods alone knew where, probably Mother had them.
Metanrye hadn’t had any trouble with them, but this time…
Finally, just before dawn, it was over. A son, finally, but stillborn--of course stillborn; nearly three months early, how could he have lived?
“And the princess?” he said, forcing cool and calm when he felt anything else.
“She lives.”
He nodded, and stepped past the doctor, into the room where his wife was--still alive.
He reminded himself of that; counting his steps as he made his way to her bed. She was asleep or unconscious, waxy-pale and barely breathing.
But she was breathing.
Larien knew he should be disappointed. Father would be. Landelye and Rehanye, no matter how clever they might grow up to be, would never be queen. Idan was capable enough, but a direct inheritance was always more stable than taking a step to the side.
And yet he didn’t care. He couldn’t care. Not right now. Perhaps in the morning, he would remember the practical considerations; certainly in the morning he would grieve with his wife for the child they had lost.
But for now, all that mattered was that she was still alive. Still here with him. And, as drained and fragile as she looked, lying there, he saw the same thing he always had, whenever he looked at her.
Lovers might come and go; he and Metanrye were young and could try again; he’d find a solution to the problem of an heir one way or another. Politics and pleasure were always there for the taking, especially for him.
But there was only one Metanrye. If not from the moment he’d met her, it hadn’t taken much longer to see she was exactly what he needed. His future queen, his beloved--his partner.
He raised her too-cool hand to his lips, and settled himself a little more comfortably in the chair to wait for her to wake.
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