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rainbowfic2023-05-31 09:50 pm
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2023-05-31 09:50 pm
Halloween Orange #20
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Rehanye
'Verse: Untitled Intrigues Story
Colors: Halloween Orange #20. Don't think I've ever been betrayed, for that was never true.
Supplies and Materials: graffiti (The Lusty Month of May, level 1), canvas, fabric, pastels (Year of the OTP Event: May prompt, pet/child acquisition), novelty beads (delivery), gift wrap
Word Count: 538
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Larien, Metanrye
Warnings: Discussed/referenced sexism/misogyny
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always.
Larien stood beside the cradle of his newborn daughter, his second, watching her sleep.
Another man, perhaps, might have been disappointed, or given his wife cause to fret. Elanhean laws of succession were quite clear; neither two-year-old Landelye, however clever she was turning out to be, nor her new baby sister, still unnamed, could rule in her own name.
And, admittedly, a part of Larien, the born politician part, was considering the potential implications, and thinking to the future. It was, he thought, part of his duty as future King to at least think it through, even if--young as he and his wife were--there was no real cause for concern right now.
Besides. There was no future, even if they had no more children, or if they had half a dozen more daughters and no sons, where he would countenance replacing Metanrye. And she knew that; he knew she knew how he felt. He would tell her explicitly, of course, if she needed the reassurance, but she knew.
As for the infant…well, she seemed healthy, that was good. Larien was not the sort of man to find the beauty in such a new child, one still slightly…squished…from the ordeal of birth. But she had yelled loudly enough, and had every limb and digit and no obvious malformations. So she was exactly what she needed to be, at the age of about twelve hours old.
And, most importantly, she was something he and Metanrye had created together.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” he heard his wife say, from the bed behind him.
He smiled down at his new daughter briefly, then turned away from the cradle and went to sit by his wife instead. “You were still sleeping,” he said, pressing a kiss on her forehead. “And she is lovely. Thank you.”
“Yes,” she said; and, as he had suspected, there was no subtle hint of relief. She hadn’t been worried about his reaction. Good. He never wanted his wife to worry about what he might think of her.
“I thought we might name her for your grandmother,” Larien said. Landelye had been named for his paternal grandmother, at Father’s suggestion--probably intended as a slight to Mother--but the King had expressed no opinion on a name for this second daughter. And Larien thought that honoring another grandmother would cause the fewest awkward ripples through the Court and its endless circle of gossip.
Metanrye, of course, did have two grandmothers--as most people did--but there would be no question of which he meant. Her father’s mother had died four years before Metanrye’s birth, while her mother’s mother had been part of the household from the time she was seven.
“I think that will suit,” Metanrye agreed, resting her head against him. “Rehanye is a lovely name.”
“It is,” he said, then kissed her forehead again and, with some reluctance, stepped away from the bed. “I should go update my father. Will you be all right?”
“I will,” she said, her fingers brushing against his lightly. “I promise. And I’ll see you later?”
“Yes,” he said, then bent down for one last kiss and left the room before he could find another reason to stay.
Story: Rehanye
'Verse: Untitled Intrigues Story
Colors: Halloween Orange #20. Don't think I've ever been betrayed, for that was never true.
Supplies and Materials: graffiti (The Lusty Month of May, level 1), canvas, fabric, pastels (Year of the OTP Event: May prompt, pet/child acquisition), novelty beads (delivery), gift wrap
Word Count: 538
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Larien, Metanrye
Warnings: Discussed/referenced sexism/misogyny
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always.
Larien stood beside the cradle of his newborn daughter, his second, watching her sleep.
Another man, perhaps, might have been disappointed, or given his wife cause to fret. Elanhean laws of succession were quite clear; neither two-year-old Landelye, however clever she was turning out to be, nor her new baby sister, still unnamed, could rule in her own name.
And, admittedly, a part of Larien, the born politician part, was considering the potential implications, and thinking to the future. It was, he thought, part of his duty as future King to at least think it through, even if--young as he and his wife were--there was no real cause for concern right now.
Besides. There was no future, even if they had no more children, or if they had half a dozen more daughters and no sons, where he would countenance replacing Metanrye. And she knew that; he knew she knew how he felt. He would tell her explicitly, of course, if she needed the reassurance, but she knew.
As for the infant…well, she seemed healthy, that was good. Larien was not the sort of man to find the beauty in such a new child, one still slightly…squished…from the ordeal of birth. But she had yelled loudly enough, and had every limb and digit and no obvious malformations. So she was exactly what she needed to be, at the age of about twelve hours old.
And, most importantly, she was something he and Metanrye had created together.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” he heard his wife say, from the bed behind him.
He smiled down at his new daughter briefly, then turned away from the cradle and went to sit by his wife instead. “You were still sleeping,” he said, pressing a kiss on her forehead. “And she is lovely. Thank you.”
“Yes,” she said; and, as he had suspected, there was no subtle hint of relief. She hadn’t been worried about his reaction. Good. He never wanted his wife to worry about what he might think of her.
“I thought we might name her for your grandmother,” Larien said. Landelye had been named for his paternal grandmother, at Father’s suggestion--probably intended as a slight to Mother--but the King had expressed no opinion on a name for this second daughter. And Larien thought that honoring another grandmother would cause the fewest awkward ripples through the Court and its endless circle of gossip.
Metanrye, of course, did have two grandmothers--as most people did--but there would be no question of which he meant. Her father’s mother had died four years before Metanrye’s birth, while her mother’s mother had been part of the household from the time she was seven.
“I think that will suit,” Metanrye agreed, resting her head against him. “Rehanye is a lovely name.”
“It is,” he said, then kissed her forehead again and, with some reluctance, stepped away from the bed. “I should go update my father. Will you be all right?”
“I will,” she said, her fingers brushing against his lightly. “I promise. And I’ll see you later?”
“Yes,” he said, then bent down for one last kiss and left the room before he could find another reason to stay.
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Here's your novelty beads!
1. "All I'm asking for is love, but you never seem to have enough." - All Over You, Spill Canvas
2. https://i.pinimg.com/564x/a2/b0/15/a2b01576a9be5f86ea04af0367a0735a.jpg
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