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rainbowfic2026-05-31 08:06 pm
thisbluespirit) wrote in rainbowfic2026-05-31 08:06 pm
Entry tags:
Vert #21 [Starfall]
ETA: Mods, can you please remove the color: azul tag - added in error.
Name: Breathing Space
Story: Starfall
Colors: Vert #21 (King/Queen of my heart)
Supplies and Styles: Silhouette
Word Count: 926
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mild angst.
Notes: Portcallan, 1313; Viyony Eseray/Leion Valerno.
Summary: It's the night before the wedding.
Viyony pressed herself up against the headboard and hugged her knees. At this hour Portcallan's noise and bustle had stilled to such a whisper that she could almost believe that she was the only soul left in the city. She had not closed the shutters over the windows before she went to bed, but it seemed darker than usual in the room anyway. What little light had stolen inside only served to paint the wall with strange shadows.
She clambered out of bed, crossing to the window where she drew back the curtain and without thought put her hand to the latch, as if to escape. She halted, her fingers closed in place around it as her conscious mind caught up with her. She could run from Imoren, from Eseray's ruin, and from her family if she really wanted to, but she could never outrun her dreams. She sighed, releasing the latch, and then perched on the sill, resting her forehead against one of the panes of glass. Her gaze travelled downwards, to the yard outside—somehow she half expected to see Leion there. If he came for her, she'd run away with him now in defiance of reason, despite everything. It would only make things worse in the end, of course, but what was logic at an hour like this?
There was nobody there.
On the other side of the river, in the lower half of the city, Leion was not having much luck sleeping either. He huffed and sighed and turned over in his bed for the tenth time. Five seconds later he turned back the other way, hopelessly entangled in his covers. He fought to kick them off and once he had, turned over again and glared at the wall.
It would be all over tomorrow. Viyony was going to marry her Lialian merchant the way she'd always said she would and then she'd be out of his city and his life forever.
He rolled onto his back, squinting up at the ceiling through the gloom. Of course, that was if everything went according to plan. What if, he asked the rather long and ominous crack that threaded its way across the plasterwork—what if he went up there now and kidnapped her? Of course, she'd never talk to him again, but that would probably be the case whichever way things went, and at least she'd be free of that piece of sea shit she intended to marry, and it would be his fault, not hers.
Leion grimaced. Wild plans were no use. Viyony had chosen to marry Imoren in order to avert the terrible fate she'd seen overwhelm her home in her dreams. Failing to act on that could even kill her. He had no right to interfere. He turned over again, away from the window, tugging his pillow into a better position. Besides, no matter what she said, Imoren was bound to love her in the end. How could he help it? So, she'd have Eseray and the money to run it—she'd be busy and loved, and maybe even happy sooner or later as long as some jealous Portcallan idiot didn't wreck everything by abducting her the night before the wedding.
"Do what you promised," he said under his breath. "Sit tight, show your face at the celebration, wish her well and then get out."
He grimaced. Tears stung his eyes, and his stomach churned at the notion. But if he was going to do something, it should have been long before this. He had the fruitless feeling that there must have been a point where he could have acted—should have acted—and he had missed it, like the idiot he always was. Stars, he wanted her, though—he loved her! She had no right to come into his life, disrupt everything and then sail off out of it with someone else, no matter however many times she'd told him that was exactly what she was going to do.
He heaved a weighty sigh and fell into uneasy dreams of weddings and doom and sea storms.
Viyony slumped against the pillows. She had hoped secretly, that another solution might have presented itself, but it hadn't. So, here she was, and it was simple now at least—no more decisions, no more temptations. She had already planned every last step she must make tomorrow. All she had to do now was to walk her way through them.
It mustn't matter if she could hardly breathe for frustration that Imoren had interrupted her tryst with Leion at the party. She mustn't think about Leion at all. She closed her eyes, imagining bundling up every one of her emotions in cloth and leaving them behind on the rocky ledge outside the Ylie's house along with Leion.
She could get through the years to come that way, and then one day it would all be over. Perhaps she'd return to Portcallan and ask Leion for her feelings back. Maybe he'd have kept them safe and wrapped up for her.
She would survive and so would Eseray. That was the important thing. She wasn't the first person who had made this kind of marriage, and she wouldn't be the last. There was no point making all this fuss about it.
Viyony shifted back against the pillows and waited for morning. She opened her eyes, not wanting to sleep through one second of her remaining hours of freedom. Wakefulness also meant no dreams. She had enough to deal with tomorrow without that.
Name: Breathing Space
Story: Starfall
Colors: Vert #21 (King/Queen of my heart)
Supplies and Styles: Silhouette
Word Count: 926
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mild angst.
Notes: Portcallan, 1313; Viyony Eseray/Leion Valerno.
Summary: It's the night before the wedding.
Viyony pressed herself up against the headboard and hugged her knees. At this hour Portcallan's noise and bustle had stilled to such a whisper that she could almost believe that she was the only soul left in the city. She had not closed the shutters over the windows before she went to bed, but it seemed darker than usual in the room anyway. What little light had stolen inside only served to paint the wall with strange shadows.
She clambered out of bed, crossing to the window where she drew back the curtain and without thought put her hand to the latch, as if to escape. She halted, her fingers closed in place around it as her conscious mind caught up with her. She could run from Imoren, from Eseray's ruin, and from her family if she really wanted to, but she could never outrun her dreams. She sighed, releasing the latch, and then perched on the sill, resting her forehead against one of the panes of glass. Her gaze travelled downwards, to the yard outside—somehow she half expected to see Leion there. If he came for her, she'd run away with him now in defiance of reason, despite everything. It would only make things worse in the end, of course, but what was logic at an hour like this?
There was nobody there.
On the other side of the river, in the lower half of the city, Leion was not having much luck sleeping either. He huffed and sighed and turned over in his bed for the tenth time. Five seconds later he turned back the other way, hopelessly entangled in his covers. He fought to kick them off and once he had, turned over again and glared at the wall.
It would be all over tomorrow. Viyony was going to marry her Lialian merchant the way she'd always said she would and then she'd be out of his city and his life forever.
He rolled onto his back, squinting up at the ceiling through the gloom. Of course, that was if everything went according to plan. What if, he asked the rather long and ominous crack that threaded its way across the plasterwork—what if he went up there now and kidnapped her? Of course, she'd never talk to him again, but that would probably be the case whichever way things went, and at least she'd be free of that piece of sea shit she intended to marry, and it would be his fault, not hers.
Leion grimaced. Wild plans were no use. Viyony had chosen to marry Imoren in order to avert the terrible fate she'd seen overwhelm her home in her dreams. Failing to act on that could even kill her. He had no right to interfere. He turned over again, away from the window, tugging his pillow into a better position. Besides, no matter what she said, Imoren was bound to love her in the end. How could he help it? So, she'd have Eseray and the money to run it—she'd be busy and loved, and maybe even happy sooner or later as long as some jealous Portcallan idiot didn't wreck everything by abducting her the night before the wedding.
"Do what you promised," he said under his breath. "Sit tight, show your face at the celebration, wish her well and then get out."
He grimaced. Tears stung his eyes, and his stomach churned at the notion. But if he was going to do something, it should have been long before this. He had the fruitless feeling that there must have been a point where he could have acted—should have acted—and he had missed it, like the idiot he always was. Stars, he wanted her, though—he loved her! She had no right to come into his life, disrupt everything and then sail off out of it with someone else, no matter however many times she'd told him that was exactly what she was going to do.
He heaved a weighty sigh and fell into uneasy dreams of weddings and doom and sea storms.
Viyony slumped against the pillows. She had hoped secretly, that another solution might have presented itself, but it hadn't. So, here she was, and it was simple now at least—no more decisions, no more temptations. She had already planned every last step she must make tomorrow. All she had to do now was to walk her way through them.
It mustn't matter if she could hardly breathe for frustration that Imoren had interrupted her tryst with Leion at the party. She mustn't think about Leion at all. She closed her eyes, imagining bundling up every one of her emotions in cloth and leaving them behind on the rocky ledge outside the Ylie's house along with Leion.
She could get through the years to come that way, and then one day it would all be over. Perhaps she'd return to Portcallan and ask Leion for her feelings back. Maybe he'd have kept them safe and wrapped up for her.
She would survive and so would Eseray. That was the important thing. She wasn't the first person who had made this kind of marriage, and she wouldn't be the last. There was no point making all this fuss about it.
Viyony shifted back against the pillows and waited for morning. She opened her eyes, not wanting to sleep through one second of her remaining hours of freedom. Wakefulness also meant no dreams. She had enough to deal with tomorrow without that.