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rainbowfic2012-05-17 02:00 pm
kay_brooke) wrote in rainbowfic2012-05-17 02:00 pm
Alice Blue #11, Burnt Umber #15, Screaming Green #2
Name: kay_brooke
Story: The Myrrosta
Colors: Alice Blue #11 (if you'll believe in me, I'll believe in you), Burnt Umber #15 (Pyrenees), Screaming Green #2 (sex is emotion in motion)
Styles/Supplies: None
Word Count: 1,092
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply
Summary: Elligia muses on Merrus.
Notes: Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
Merrus came away from the storm different.
It was something in the way he looked at things, Elligia decided, glancing at him over breakfast one morning not long after the storm that had destroyed Border Glory once and for all. While her grandfather had mourned the loss of all that history, Elligia was glad that it was gone. An unnatural curse had kept the ruins and the land around it barren for a thousand years, and Merrus had broken that curse. He had brought down what remained of the palace as well, but Elligia didn't think there was anything of worth there. Not even memories, not anymore. Had the land not been cursed, the palace would have been overtaken by the forest long ago, and crumbled into nothing.
Border Glory represented nothing but the event that defined the beginning of the darkest period in salkiy history, and that Merrus had destroyed it had far more symbolic power than that whole business with the scarlet tines, at least in Elligia's opinion. It was no good if only the Myrrosta could make things grow in the valley; everyone should be able to. The Myrrosta was to be the salkiys' guide back to the light, not a replacement for them. Elligia wondered sometimes if her grandfather realized that. He had lectured her many times on the subject that the Myrrosta was not meant to be a return to the past, because that was impossible. But Elligia sometimes thought he didn't really understand what the future meant. He had a certain vision of what salkiy civilization was like, and despite his lecturing it was a vision of the past.
Elligia had no future-telling ability, but she knew what the future looked like.
At first she hadn't been certain, because when Merrus first came to them he was distant, almost hostile. She could see in his eyes and his drooping shoulders and the way he carried himself like he was ready to flee at any second, that he had seen pain. He had endured more life than his youth might suggest. Elligia didn't know the details, because Merrus wouldn't tell any of them--she didn't even think Atro knew, at least not everything--but she thought most of it probably had to do with his ekalap blood.
The ekalaps had killed her father, taken her mother, left her an orphan to be raised by a grandfather too distracted by his own work to handle a young salkiy child. She feared and hated them more than anything. She thought Merrus had seen that in her, after he had gotten over his own shock that she had been so frank and open about her own past. His discomfort had made her wonder if that was just how southern salkiys were, that they didn't talk about anything, that they kept things secret and hid away out of . . . she wasn't sure what. Shame? Guilt? But Merrus had still seen her hatred of the ekalaps, and she had seen how difficult it was for him to tell her about his own heritage.
But he had. That meant something, Elligia thought.
Even with that he had been too guarded, too uncomfortable with her grandfather's ways, too ignorant of salkiy history, too inept with his Gifts. And he hadn't been a half-breed, at least not in the way Elligia and her grandfather thought mattered. Instead they had looked at Atro, who was an idiot as a salkiy but made an impressive figure as a human. All Elligia's grandfather had to do was teach him how to be an impressive salkiy as well, a more than doable task with someone who already showed that potential. Merrus had simply been the vehicle, the poorly-maintained doorway through which Atro had entered the salkiy world. He was inconsequential.
She had loved him from the moment she had set eyes on him.
She couldn't explain it. Elligia had grown up isolated, but she had never been completely cut off from other salkiys. She often made the trip to the nearby village for supplies they couldn't provide for themselves, especially as her grandfather grew older. She had friends there, male and female. She had never felt anything more for any of them.
Merrus was completely different. That first night he and Atro had come to the dwelling, after she had saved them from the ekalaps, they had both sat at her grandfather's table, drinking a spiced tea and clearly wondering if they should be trusting anyone they met. Atro, brash and bold, had caught her attention first, but he was as human as they came despite his salkiy parent, and it wasn't long before her gaze had been drawn to Merrus, quiet and huddled in a ball and miserable. She had wondered at the time why a salkiy had left his home, and how he had ended up traveling with a human.
The story was even stranger and more fascinating than she could have imagined, and Merrus had lived it. She had looked at him in wonder ever since, even when it made him uncomfortable. She just couldn't help it. She felt compelled to spend time with him, to show him all of her favorite places. And it was because of that, she told herself when she wondered if she was being too silly, that they had discovered who Merrus really was, that it wasn't loud half-breed Atro who was the one they were looking for, but unassuming and untalented Merrus.
But he wasn't untalented anymore. Not since the storm.
Still guarded, still uncomfortable, but no longer inept. No longer clouded. His eyes held awareness that frightened and excited Elligia in equal measure. It was like he could see into things now, see through them, see things that were there that no one else could perceive. Not even her grandfather, the one salkiy who seemed to know everything, looked at the world like that.
Of course, whatever Merrus saw, he didn't tell anyone.
Elligia wanted him to tell her. She wanted to be close enough to him that he felt comfortable telling her. They were meant to be together; she should have realized it that first night when she couldn't take her eyes off him even while Atro had captivated her grandfather. She hadn't paid attention to the right visitor--except then it turned out that she had. That meant something.
Elligia knew it did.
So she looked at Merrus, and waited for the day when he would look back and tell her what he saw.
kay_brookeStory: The Myrrosta
Colors: Alice Blue #11 (if you'll believe in me, I'll believe in you), Burnt Umber #15 (Pyrenees), Screaming Green #2 (sex is emotion in motion)
Styles/Supplies: None
Word Count: 1,092
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply
Summary: Elligia muses on Merrus.
Notes: Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
Merrus came away from the storm different.
It was something in the way he looked at things, Elligia decided, glancing at him over breakfast one morning not long after the storm that had destroyed Border Glory once and for all. While her grandfather had mourned the loss of all that history, Elligia was glad that it was gone. An unnatural curse had kept the ruins and the land around it barren for a thousand years, and Merrus had broken that curse. He had brought down what remained of the palace as well, but Elligia didn't think there was anything of worth there. Not even memories, not anymore. Had the land not been cursed, the palace would have been overtaken by the forest long ago, and crumbled into nothing.
Border Glory represented nothing but the event that defined the beginning of the darkest period in salkiy history, and that Merrus had destroyed it had far more symbolic power than that whole business with the scarlet tines, at least in Elligia's opinion. It was no good if only the Myrrosta could make things grow in the valley; everyone should be able to. The Myrrosta was to be the salkiys' guide back to the light, not a replacement for them. Elligia wondered sometimes if her grandfather realized that. He had lectured her many times on the subject that the Myrrosta was not meant to be a return to the past, because that was impossible. But Elligia sometimes thought he didn't really understand what the future meant. He had a certain vision of what salkiy civilization was like, and despite his lecturing it was a vision of the past.
Elligia had no future-telling ability, but she knew what the future looked like.
At first she hadn't been certain, because when Merrus first came to them he was distant, almost hostile. She could see in his eyes and his drooping shoulders and the way he carried himself like he was ready to flee at any second, that he had seen pain. He had endured more life than his youth might suggest. Elligia didn't know the details, because Merrus wouldn't tell any of them--she didn't even think Atro knew, at least not everything--but she thought most of it probably had to do with his ekalap blood.
The ekalaps had killed her father, taken her mother, left her an orphan to be raised by a grandfather too distracted by his own work to handle a young salkiy child. She feared and hated them more than anything. She thought Merrus had seen that in her, after he had gotten over his own shock that she had been so frank and open about her own past. His discomfort had made her wonder if that was just how southern salkiys were, that they didn't talk about anything, that they kept things secret and hid away out of . . . she wasn't sure what. Shame? Guilt? But Merrus had still seen her hatred of the ekalaps, and she had seen how difficult it was for him to tell her about his own heritage.
But he had. That meant something, Elligia thought.
Even with that he had been too guarded, too uncomfortable with her grandfather's ways, too ignorant of salkiy history, too inept with his Gifts. And he hadn't been a half-breed, at least not in the way Elligia and her grandfather thought mattered. Instead they had looked at Atro, who was an idiot as a salkiy but made an impressive figure as a human. All Elligia's grandfather had to do was teach him how to be an impressive salkiy as well, a more than doable task with someone who already showed that potential. Merrus had simply been the vehicle, the poorly-maintained doorway through which Atro had entered the salkiy world. He was inconsequential.
She had loved him from the moment she had set eyes on him.
She couldn't explain it. Elligia had grown up isolated, but she had never been completely cut off from other salkiys. She often made the trip to the nearby village for supplies they couldn't provide for themselves, especially as her grandfather grew older. She had friends there, male and female. She had never felt anything more for any of them.
Merrus was completely different. That first night he and Atro had come to the dwelling, after she had saved them from the ekalaps, they had both sat at her grandfather's table, drinking a spiced tea and clearly wondering if they should be trusting anyone they met. Atro, brash and bold, had caught her attention first, but he was as human as they came despite his salkiy parent, and it wasn't long before her gaze had been drawn to Merrus, quiet and huddled in a ball and miserable. She had wondered at the time why a salkiy had left his home, and how he had ended up traveling with a human.
The story was even stranger and more fascinating than she could have imagined, and Merrus had lived it. She had looked at him in wonder ever since, even when it made him uncomfortable. She just couldn't help it. She felt compelled to spend time with him, to show him all of her favorite places. And it was because of that, she told herself when she wondered if she was being too silly, that they had discovered who Merrus really was, that it wasn't loud half-breed Atro who was the one they were looking for, but unassuming and untalented Merrus.
But he wasn't untalented anymore. Not since the storm.
Still guarded, still uncomfortable, but no longer inept. No longer clouded. His eyes held awareness that frightened and excited Elligia in equal measure. It was like he could see into things now, see through them, see things that were there that no one else could perceive. Not even her grandfather, the one salkiy who seemed to know everything, looked at the world like that.
Of course, whatever Merrus saw, he didn't tell anyone.
Elligia wanted him to tell her. She wanted to be close enough to him that he felt comfortable telling her. They were meant to be together; she should have realized it that first night when she couldn't take her eyes off him even while Atro had captivated her grandfather. She hadn't paid attention to the right visitor--except then it turned out that she had. That meant something.
Elligia knew it did.
So she looked at Merrus, and waited for the day when he would look back and tell her what he saw.
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Either way, it's very refreshing, especially after all the crap that Merrus has had to put up through the story.
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