shadowsong26: (mel)
shadowsong26 ([personal profile] shadowsong26) wrote in [community profile] rainbowfic2012-02-02 11:08 pm

Tiffany Blue #10

Name: shadowsong26
Story: The Fountain
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Tiffany Blue #10. anklet (ball and chain)
Supplies and Materials: Paint-by-numbers (from kat), canvas (985 FY, roughly 1 year prior to the main narrative), feathers Prompt #200: "I'm not going to apologize.", miniature collection
Word Count: 335
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Mel Artwick
Warnings: Enslavement.
Notes: Constructive criticism, as always, welcome.


Dawn

Still half-asleep, Mel wandered to the fountain in the square closest to his apartment. His life revolved around it now, the way it used to revolve around the ocean. Even if he didn't technically need water for his daily household tasks, he touched the fountain every time he passed it. Cut off from the ocean in hostile Feredar, he needed the reassurance.

Strengthened by the half-contact, he headed up the street to the bookshop where he worked.


Noon


Mel perched on the edge of the fountain's basin with his lunch, smiling slightly at his neighbor and her three-year-old daughter. She lifted the child up and showed her how to work the pump, the best way to hold the handle, and how hard she needed to push down.

It took the little girl several tries, but a thin stream of water finally came out of the fountain. She giggled and clapped her hands in delight, and Mel's own smile widened.


Sunset

Something was wrong.

Mel sped up on his way home from work, and, sure enough, the fountain had managed to explode.

How the hell...? You were happy this morning!

He hesitated for a fraction of a second, and hated himself for it. Maybe they won't report me, maybe they'll be grateful enough...

He took a deep breath and stroked the water in the fountain, willing it to calm.


Midnight

He wasn't really sleeping when they kicked his door in. They were remarkably quiet about it, and it hurt less than he expected when they dragged him out of bed and through the broken door. He saw a dead-eyed girl in a green collar hovering in the background, and watched her put the door back to normal as the soldiers shoved him in the wagon.

Then one of them hit him again and, by the time his vision cleared, the door was whole and the earth-mage was gone.


Dawn

His collar was white.

He traced it with a finger, waiting in the corner of his cell.

...I don't regret it.
bookblather: A picture of Yomiko Readman looking at books with the text "bookgasm." (Default)

[personal profile] bookblather 2012-02-03 04:13 am (UTC)(link)
I think I've missed something (in the sunset section particularly) but I can get the gist of the story easily enough, and that last line is just. I don't have words for it. But it's very well done.

Good job.
subluxate: Sophia Bush leaning against a piano (Default)

[personal profile] subluxate 2012-02-03 05:10 am (UTC)(link)
Oh man, Mel. You seem like a good dude, too, so man. The last line is, like Kat said, something that says a lot in only four words.

Well done.
kay_brooke: Side view of a laptop with text "Being an author is like being in charge of your own personal insane asylum" (writing quote)

[personal profile] kay_brooke 2012-02-03 04:53 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, poor Mel. I really like the last line. He was trying to help, and he doesn't regret doing it despite what happened.
shipwreck_light: (Default)

[personal profile] shipwreck_light 2012-02-04 04:22 am (UTC)(link)
I really enjoyed reading this. You crammed an amazing amount of information- sensory and emotional -into such a small space.
clare_dragonfly: woman with green feathery wings, text: stories last longer: but only by becoming only stories (Writing: quill & notebook)

[personal profile] clare_dragonfly 2012-02-06 12:37 am (UTC)(link)
Oh my, I really want to know what happens to him next. (And before, and kind of during, whatever causes the fountain to explode...)