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rainbowfic2013-10-15 09:48 pm
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2013-10-15 09:48 pm
Entry tags:
- author: shadowsong26 supreme whumpmaster,
- color: dirt brown,
- color: glitter,
- color: spilt ink,
- story: feredar,
- style: bichromatic,
- style: miniature collection,
- style: paint-by-numbers,
- style: photography,
- style: pointillism,
- supply: beading wire,
- supply: brush,
- supply: modeling clay,
- supply: novelty beads,
- supply: oils,
- supply: seed beads
Spilt Ink #13, Dirt Brown #23, Glitter #21
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Should
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Spilt Ink #13. You forget that even the strongest person to ever live had a weakest day of their life., Dirt Brown #23. Strength, Glitter #21. What you own. - Rent
Supplies and Materials: miniature collection, photography, pointillism, bichromatic, brush (ensky), oils, modeling clay, seed beads, novelty beads, beading wire
Word Count: 256
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Kes
Warnings: References to naval violence and growing up under a sibling's shadow
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always.
The first time Kes took a prize of her own, she felt absurdly guilty—not for the damage she did, or the prisoners, or the theft, or the few who died, but because this victory should never have belonged to her—by rights, it should have gone to Taz.
When Kes took lovers, she did from time to time think of a more permanent arrangement, but she never made the leap—she had too clear an idea of what marriage should be; retirement or a partnership like Taz had had with Dallu, and somehow her nocturnal companions always fell short, one way or the other.
It grew easier, with time, believing she was exactly who and where she should be, that she did damn well deserve all the wealth and glory she accumulated, and she built that knowledge into walls around herself, where the doubt and the faint odor of guilt could no longer reach her.
Lord Artwick’s fall finally erased the last traces of should from her life—she married her favorite lover, finally re-established contact with her older sister, and sent an exploratory mission west, which she fully expected never to hear from again, but she’d done enough holding back in her life.
By the time Kes Hantree was laid to rest, only half of the long-range projects she had begun had succeeded; still, she died a contented woman, full of faith in herself, in her kin, in the future of her Clan—full of faith that all was just as it should be.
Story: Should
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Spilt Ink #13. You forget that even the strongest person to ever live had a weakest day of their life., Dirt Brown #23. Strength, Glitter #21. What you own. - Rent
Supplies and Materials: miniature collection, photography, pointillism, bichromatic, brush (ensky), oils, modeling clay, seed beads, novelty beads, beading wire
Word Count: 256
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Kes
Warnings: References to naval violence and growing up under a sibling's shadow
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always.
The first time Kes took a prize of her own, she felt absurdly guilty—not for the damage she did, or the prisoners, or the theft, or the few who died, but because this victory should never have belonged to her—by rights, it should have gone to Taz.
When Kes took lovers, she did from time to time think of a more permanent arrangement, but she never made the leap—she had too clear an idea of what marriage should be; retirement or a partnership like Taz had had with Dallu, and somehow her nocturnal companions always fell short, one way or the other.
It grew easier, with time, believing she was exactly who and where she should be, that she did damn well deserve all the wealth and glory she accumulated, and she built that knowledge into walls around herself, where the doubt and the faint odor of guilt could no longer reach her.
Lord Artwick’s fall finally erased the last traces of should from her life—she married her favorite lover, finally re-established contact with her older sister, and sent an exploratory mission west, which she fully expected never to hear from again, but she’d done enough holding back in her life.
By the time Kes Hantree was laid to rest, only half of the long-range projects she had begun had succeeded; still, she died a contented woman, full of faith in herself, in her kin, in the future of her Clan—full of faith that all was just as it should be.
no subject
no subject
It took her a while, but she did in time, and she died a happy old lady.