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rainbowfic2023-05-11 09:49 pm
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2023-05-11 09:49 pm
Spring Green #7
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Acknowledged
'Verse: Untitled Intrigues Story
Colors: Spring Green #7. can we find ourselves in the book of love? (with paint-by-numbers from bookblather: Love isn't only romantic.)
Supplies and Materials: paint-by-numbers, photography, graffiti (Happy Queer People challenge; Three Weeks for Dreamwidth), life drawing, canvas, glue ("Being publicly noticed for what you say is possible now."), gift wrap
Word Count: 666
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Tahnrin
Warnings: Don't think so?
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. While this isn't specifically about Tahnrin's queerness, it is about one of the happiest days in his life, so. The wordcount is something I find personally hilarious given the way this particular project started XD
For his fourteenth birthday, Tahnrin’s father gave him the gift of an official title.
It was a surprise, at least to Tahnrin--somehow, Father had managed to keep his plans away from the Court’s usually well-informed rumor mill. Larien might have known, and likely Mother had been informed, but they would always keep Father’s secrets if asked. Perhaps some of Father’s advisors had been consulted, but the circle had to have been very small indeed.
Not that it was entirely…
Tahnrin had never felt any lack, exactly. Father had claimed him from the moment he was born--and might have done so earlier, but Tahnrin was conceived shortly before his elder legitimate half-brother’s birth; the timing of the announcement would have been Impolitic. Tahnrin didn’t resent the delay; as far as he knew, Mother didn’t, either.
And while Mother was no longer a royal mistress, the relationship had ended on good terms, and Father had been very generous to her over the years. Tahnrin, of course, had been granted lands of his own.
As for affection--well, Father wasn’t exactly an affectionate man with anyone, except occasionally behind closed doors, but he treated Tahnrin more or less the same way he treated Idan. Larien, as the heir, was of course in a category all his own.
So, a surprise. A very well-planned surprise. But not a shock. Or, at least, not much of one. Not when he took a moment to think about it.
Still, he would remember this morning--that moment when he woke up to find Father’s note, and the very official patent on its very official vellum, waiting for him--for the rest of his life.
Not so much the patent, though he was pleased to receive it; and not even the Presentation he would get later that day, when all eyes would be on him as he was publicly granted the title of Prince.
But that note.
Father wasn’t demonstrative, or affectionate. It wasn’t in his nature. But he had always treated Tahnrin and Idan essentially the same. Tahnrin, the bastard, had been raised with his half-brothers in the same nursery; they had played together and fought together as children. As if they were all true brothers.
They still did, really, though they were older and had their own rooms now.
Of course, Tahnrin had always known he didn’t share his brothers’ mother. He knew who his was, and she visited the royal nursery often. As did the Queen, and while she was always kind enough to him, there was a clear difference in how she treated her own sons.
But until he was four or five, it hadn’t really meant much. And how much of Father’s decision to raise him that way had been politics, and how much of it had been affection for either Tahnrin or his mother didn’t matter.
Or Tahnrin had long since convinced himself it didn’t. Since Father wasn’t very fond by nature anyway.
Except now…now he had this letter. Not even a letter, really; just a brief, unsealed note in Father’s hand.
Which, somehow, made it mean more.
You are my son as much as your brothers are. I see no reason not to say so to the world.
It wasn’t that the title didn’t matter to him. He wanted a place in this world, a real one, one that was his, even if he knew it would never be on Father’s throne.
But that wasn’t--Tahnrin--Prince Tahnrin--had never felt such joy as he had this morning, reading that note over and over and over again, committing every stroke of every letter to memory.
He had never been unwanted. Never been unloved. Never been made to feel less than his brothers, apart from the obvious fact that he was out of the succession. He knew he had a place in his family, that they were his family, and that mattered. He mattered. He had always known that.
He had just…never felt so loved before.
Story: Acknowledged
'Verse: Untitled Intrigues Story
Colors: Spring Green #7. can we find ourselves in the book of love? (with paint-by-numbers from bookblather: Love isn't only romantic.)
Supplies and Materials: paint-by-numbers, photography, graffiti (Happy Queer People challenge; Three Weeks for Dreamwidth), life drawing, canvas, glue ("Being publicly noticed for what you say is possible now."), gift wrap
Word Count: 666
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Tahnrin
Warnings: Don't think so?
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. While this isn't specifically about Tahnrin's queerness, it is about one of the happiest days in his life, so. The wordcount is something I find personally hilarious given the way this particular project started XD
For his fourteenth birthday, Tahnrin’s father gave him the gift of an official title.
It was a surprise, at least to Tahnrin--somehow, Father had managed to keep his plans away from the Court’s usually well-informed rumor mill. Larien might have known, and likely Mother had been informed, but they would always keep Father’s secrets if asked. Perhaps some of Father’s advisors had been consulted, but the circle had to have been very small indeed.
Not that it was entirely…
Tahnrin had never felt any lack, exactly. Father had claimed him from the moment he was born--and might have done so earlier, but Tahnrin was conceived shortly before his elder legitimate half-brother’s birth; the timing of the announcement would have been Impolitic. Tahnrin didn’t resent the delay; as far as he knew, Mother didn’t, either.
And while Mother was no longer a royal mistress, the relationship had ended on good terms, and Father had been very generous to her over the years. Tahnrin, of course, had been granted lands of his own.
As for affection--well, Father wasn’t exactly an affectionate man with anyone, except occasionally behind closed doors, but he treated Tahnrin more or less the same way he treated Idan. Larien, as the heir, was of course in a category all his own.
So, a surprise. A very well-planned surprise. But not a shock. Or, at least, not much of one. Not when he took a moment to think about it.
Still, he would remember this morning--that moment when he woke up to find Father’s note, and the very official patent on its very official vellum, waiting for him--for the rest of his life.
Not so much the patent, though he was pleased to receive it; and not even the Presentation he would get later that day, when all eyes would be on him as he was publicly granted the title of Prince.
But that note.
Father wasn’t demonstrative, or affectionate. It wasn’t in his nature. But he had always treated Tahnrin and Idan essentially the same. Tahnrin, the bastard, had been raised with his half-brothers in the same nursery; they had played together and fought together as children. As if they were all true brothers.
They still did, really, though they were older and had their own rooms now.
Of course, Tahnrin had always known he didn’t share his brothers’ mother. He knew who his was, and she visited the royal nursery often. As did the Queen, and while she was always kind enough to him, there was a clear difference in how she treated her own sons.
But until he was four or five, it hadn’t really meant much. And how much of Father’s decision to raise him that way had been politics, and how much of it had been affection for either Tahnrin or his mother didn’t matter.
Or Tahnrin had long since convinced himself it didn’t. Since Father wasn’t very fond by nature anyway.
Except now…now he had this letter. Not even a letter, really; just a brief, unsealed note in Father’s hand.
Which, somehow, made it mean more.
You are my son as much as your brothers are. I see no reason not to say so to the world.
It wasn’t that the title didn’t matter to him. He wanted a place in this world, a real one, one that was his, even if he knew it would never be on Father’s throne.
But that wasn’t--Tahnrin--Prince Tahnrin--had never felt such joy as he had this morning, reading that note over and over and over again, committing every stroke of every letter to memory.
He had never been unwanted. Never been unloved. Never been made to feel less than his brothers, apart from the obvious fact that he was out of the succession. He knew he had a place in his family, that they were his family, and that mattered. He mattered. He had always known that.
He had just…never felt so loved before.