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rainbowfic2012-05-11 08:54 am
kay_brooke) wrote in rainbowfic2012-05-11 08:54 am
Burnt Umber #6, Screaming Green #11, Tyrian Purple #10
Name: kay_brooke
Story: The Myrrosta
Colors: Burnt Umber #6 (Rocky Mountains), Screaming Green #11 (what is commonly called love, namely a desire of satisfying a voracious appetite with a certain quantity of delicate white human flesh), Tyrian Purple #10 (the face that sailed a thousand ships)
Styles/Supplies: Canvas, Charcoal
Word Count: 1,473
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; mentions of sexual objectification
Summary: The hardest part was the food.
Notes: Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
The one and only time Mynlai ever doubted her mission was the first night she spent in Jaharta.
Jaharta was strange, and the humans in it even stranger. But those were things she thought she could handle. Neeln was there, had assured her that he would always be there, right to the west of the Court in the big field where all the other merchants were selling their wares. If she needed anything, she was to go straight to him. If she couldn't get to him, she was to go straight to Larron, Neeln's friend and fellow merchant, who was also the Court merchant for that summer. No matter what it was, Neeln told her, Larron would help her. Larron was great friends with the Councilor and his family, but his loyalty did and always would lie with the merchants.
She wasn't put off by the clothes, because she had worn human clothes throughout her trip from Okkand to Jaharta. The ones she was given by the humans at the Court were even stranger, but they were also made of fine fabric that felt good against her skin. So she thought that wasn't so bad.
She wasn't put off that the human male she had been sent to meet had died recently. He did, after all, have a son who had taken his place, and one human male was much the same as the next. Martyn, despite being human, wasn't entirely unpleasant to look at. His eyes were a piercing blue that Mynlai liked very much, and though he was heavier and louder and hairier than any salkiy male she had ever seen, she thought she could handle that as well. He already seemed smitten with her, which was good. She had some vague understanding that he was desperate for a child because his female mate was unable to have any. She didn't understand why he couldn't take in an orphan child, or why he hadn't gotten a child on another female yet, but humans did strange things and had strange rituals. Neeln had tried to explain to her once that human pairs weren't the same as salkiy pairs, that it was generally thought wrong to have children with someone other than a mate. Mynlai could understand the desire for that; many salkiys chose not to have children with anyone other than a mate. But she couldn't understand why, in this case, when it was so important that Martyn have a child (Neeln had said it was because he needed someone to take his place after he died, like he had taken his own father's, though he hadn't explained to Mynlai why it had to be a blood child or even a relation at all), that he hadn't had one with someone else. She couldn't understand what could be so wrong with the notion that even in desperation he wouldn't turn to it.
But she thought she would be able to change his mind. She thought it would be easy. Martyn was human and he had strange human habits and gestures, but the way he had looked at her was all too familiar; in that, humans and salkiys were very similar, and Mynlai had been receiving those kinds of looks from the male salkiys in her village since before she had even reached adulthood.
Neeln had told her she was beautiful, so beautiful that it didn't matter that she was a salkiy. All men, he had told her, human and salkiy and ekalap (though she had shuddered at this and hissed at him to never, ever say such things again) would look at her like that.
Neeln looked at her like that sometimes, but she never let him do more than look.
So it wasn't Martyn himself, nor the way he looked at her. It wasn't the intimidating stone buildings of the Court, it wasn't the clothing that clung to her body, it wasn't the huge, opulent room she had been given to do no more than sleep in, it wasn't the close, stifling press of too many humans and not enough green things, it wasn't the smell, and it even wasn't the way Martyn's mate looked at Mynlai, her eyes narrowed and her mouth set in a thin, hard line.
It was the food.
The first night she stayed in Jaharta Martyn, his eyes already conveying lustful thoughts at her even though she was fairly certain he was trying to suppress them, invited her to dinner.
The whole experience was something she didn't want to repeat, from the way Martyn hovered too close and spoke too loudly, to the way the humans serving the meal stared openly at her even though she hadn't said or done anything asking for their attention, to the way his mate (Degance, she remembered) clenched her fists whenever Martyn spoke. But it was only a dinner, and it wouldn't last forever. She knew that, and she knew that it was just something she had to get through. She was on a mission, a divine mission, and there wasn't a single story she knew of where a salkiy on a divine mission wasn't made to suffer in some way. At least here she was clothed and fed and had a place to sleep. It could be worse.
She thought that, anyway, until the food came.
The humans serving them started bringing out platter after steaming platter. There was bread, which looked too soft and pliable to be real bread. There were fruits, some of which she recognized and others which were completely foreign to her. There was wine, which Neeln had warned her against, but there was also water, so that was all right.
But then there was the meat.
Platters and platters of meat, all steaming, all representing a different slaughtered animal. Mynlai wasn't stupid; she knew humans ate meat. She knew even that some salkiys ate meat, though they were all southern salkiys that her grandfather grumbled about often, saying that they had lost their way and forgotten their own kind and become too much like humans. But she had never eaten meat, and no one in her family had ever eaten meat, and that left her with a meal of fruit and improperly-baked bread. There weren't even any nuts, and certainly no other greens. Just meat and more meat.
Martyn passed every dish under her nose, looking at her all the while but not seeing how the smell of the animal flesh so close made her gag. He and Degance ate the meat, the former looking at her with lustful eyes and the latter with ice dripping from her lashes.
The looks Mynlai could deal with. But the thought that it was going to be like this every night for a year or more, this silent meal of animal flesh, made her want to wretch and run home to Okkand as fast as she could. She couldn't do this. Her grandfather would be disappointed, but he would just have to be disappointed, then. He would have to find someone else to have the savior. She couldn't do it, not here among these humans.
But she couldn't disappoint her grandfather. He had worked so long and so hard for this to come to pass, and he wasn't well. If she didn't do this now, her grandfather might never see the results of all those years he had labored, all those times he had given up having a proper life. And if he was right and she was the only one capable of having the savior, then her failure wouldn't just be her own, but that of all salkiys. She wasn't in danger of disappointing her grandfather, she was in danger of dooming her whole race to eventual extinction.
Mynlai couldn't eat the meat. But a year pretending she didn't care was a small price to pay for the salvation of every salkiy. She would do it. She had to.
kay_brookeStory: The Myrrosta
Colors: Burnt Umber #6 (Rocky Mountains), Screaming Green #11 (what is commonly called love, namely a desire of satisfying a voracious appetite with a certain quantity of delicate white human flesh), Tyrian Purple #10 (the face that sailed a thousand ships)
Styles/Supplies: Canvas, Charcoal
Word Count: 1,473
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; mentions of sexual objectification
Summary: The hardest part was the food.
Notes: Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
The one and only time Mynlai ever doubted her mission was the first night she spent in Jaharta.
Jaharta was strange, and the humans in it even stranger. But those were things she thought she could handle. Neeln was there, had assured her that he would always be there, right to the west of the Court in the big field where all the other merchants were selling their wares. If she needed anything, she was to go straight to him. If she couldn't get to him, she was to go straight to Larron, Neeln's friend and fellow merchant, who was also the Court merchant for that summer. No matter what it was, Neeln told her, Larron would help her. Larron was great friends with the Councilor and his family, but his loyalty did and always would lie with the merchants.
She wasn't put off by the clothes, because she had worn human clothes throughout her trip from Okkand to Jaharta. The ones she was given by the humans at the Court were even stranger, but they were also made of fine fabric that felt good against her skin. So she thought that wasn't so bad.
She wasn't put off that the human male she had been sent to meet had died recently. He did, after all, have a son who had taken his place, and one human male was much the same as the next. Martyn, despite being human, wasn't entirely unpleasant to look at. His eyes were a piercing blue that Mynlai liked very much, and though he was heavier and louder and hairier than any salkiy male she had ever seen, she thought she could handle that as well. He already seemed smitten with her, which was good. She had some vague understanding that he was desperate for a child because his female mate was unable to have any. She didn't understand why he couldn't take in an orphan child, or why he hadn't gotten a child on another female yet, but humans did strange things and had strange rituals. Neeln had tried to explain to her once that human pairs weren't the same as salkiy pairs, that it was generally thought wrong to have children with someone other than a mate. Mynlai could understand the desire for that; many salkiys chose not to have children with anyone other than a mate. But she couldn't understand why, in this case, when it was so important that Martyn have a child (Neeln had said it was because he needed someone to take his place after he died, like he had taken his own father's, though he hadn't explained to Mynlai why it had to be a blood child or even a relation at all), that he hadn't had one with someone else. She couldn't understand what could be so wrong with the notion that even in desperation he wouldn't turn to it.
But she thought she would be able to change his mind. She thought it would be easy. Martyn was human and he had strange human habits and gestures, but the way he had looked at her was all too familiar; in that, humans and salkiys were very similar, and Mynlai had been receiving those kinds of looks from the male salkiys in her village since before she had even reached adulthood.
Neeln had told her she was beautiful, so beautiful that it didn't matter that she was a salkiy. All men, he had told her, human and salkiy and ekalap (though she had shuddered at this and hissed at him to never, ever say such things again) would look at her like that.
Neeln looked at her like that sometimes, but she never let him do more than look.
So it wasn't Martyn himself, nor the way he looked at her. It wasn't the intimidating stone buildings of the Court, it wasn't the clothing that clung to her body, it wasn't the huge, opulent room she had been given to do no more than sleep in, it wasn't the close, stifling press of too many humans and not enough green things, it wasn't the smell, and it even wasn't the way Martyn's mate looked at Mynlai, her eyes narrowed and her mouth set in a thin, hard line.
It was the food.
The first night she stayed in Jaharta Martyn, his eyes already conveying lustful thoughts at her even though she was fairly certain he was trying to suppress them, invited her to dinner.
The whole experience was something she didn't want to repeat, from the way Martyn hovered too close and spoke too loudly, to the way the humans serving the meal stared openly at her even though she hadn't said or done anything asking for their attention, to the way his mate (Degance, she remembered) clenched her fists whenever Martyn spoke. But it was only a dinner, and it wouldn't last forever. She knew that, and she knew that it was just something she had to get through. She was on a mission, a divine mission, and there wasn't a single story she knew of where a salkiy on a divine mission wasn't made to suffer in some way. At least here she was clothed and fed and had a place to sleep. It could be worse.
She thought that, anyway, until the food came.
The humans serving them started bringing out platter after steaming platter. There was bread, which looked too soft and pliable to be real bread. There were fruits, some of which she recognized and others which were completely foreign to her. There was wine, which Neeln had warned her against, but there was also water, so that was all right.
But then there was the meat.
Platters and platters of meat, all steaming, all representing a different slaughtered animal. Mynlai wasn't stupid; she knew humans ate meat. She knew even that some salkiys ate meat, though they were all southern salkiys that her grandfather grumbled about often, saying that they had lost their way and forgotten their own kind and become too much like humans. But she had never eaten meat, and no one in her family had ever eaten meat, and that left her with a meal of fruit and improperly-baked bread. There weren't even any nuts, and certainly no other greens. Just meat and more meat.
Martyn passed every dish under her nose, looking at her all the while but not seeing how the smell of the animal flesh so close made her gag. He and Degance ate the meat, the former looking at her with lustful eyes and the latter with ice dripping from her lashes.
The looks Mynlai could deal with. But the thought that it was going to be like this every night for a year or more, this silent meal of animal flesh, made her want to wretch and run home to Okkand as fast as she could. She couldn't do this. Her grandfather would be disappointed, but he would just have to be disappointed, then. He would have to find someone else to have the savior. She couldn't do it, not here among these humans.
But she couldn't disappoint her grandfather. He had worked so long and so hard for this to come to pass, and he wasn't well. If she didn't do this now, her grandfather might never see the results of all those years he had labored, all those times he had given up having a proper life. And if he was right and she was the only one capable of having the savior, then her failure wouldn't just be her own, but that of all salkiys. She wasn't in danger of disappointing her grandfather, she was in danger of dooming her whole race to eventual extinction.
Mynlai couldn't eat the meat. But a year pretending she didn't care was a small price to pay for the salvation of every salkiy. She would do it. She had to.
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"The first night she stayed in Jaharta Martyn, his eyes already conveying lustful thoughts at her even though she was fairly certain he was trying to suppress them, invited her to dinner." Um, this sentence says that the night invited her to dinner XD (I think you're just missing a "he" in that last bit.)
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Thank you for reading!
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