shadowsong26 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shadowsong26) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic2013-10-30 07:26 pm
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2013-10-30 07:26 pm
Entry tags:
Dirt Brown #22, Spilt Ink #12, Transparent #22
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Responsible
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Dirt Brown #22. Stone, Spilt Ink #12. Today I did the best I could do. Not because I had to. Because I wanted to., Transparent #22. Vicious
Supplies and Materials: bichromatic, canvas (980 FY), oils, feathers, modeling clay, charcoal, pastels (my current gen + romance card G1 "honor"), novelty beads, yarn, glue ("You may feel waves of positive energy flowing into your life now, but you cannot integrate them until you resolve an unpleasant situation from the past. You might choose to avoid direct confrontation today.")
Word Count: 461
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Kellom, Andrell
Warnings: References to parental death/murder, Kellom
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. This incident is mentioned briefly here.
The hunting trip had probably been a bad idea, but Andrell had been so restless since Mother’s funeral—and, as necessary as it had been, Kellom did feel a little guilty; he wasn’t heartless. It had seemed a good idea, a way for Andrell to purge some of his ill-feeling and for the two of them to just spend time together, as brothers.
But then Andrell hadn’t made a clean kill, and by the time they’d tracked the buck to where it fell, a wolfpack had gotten at it. Kellom had had to stop him from shooting the wolves—just asking for one of them to get mauled or shot in the confusion—and that was when he realized that taking a grieving, frustrated teenager somewhere isolated and handing him a weapon wasn’t really the best way to help.
“You should’ve let me,” he grumbled.
Kellom shook his head. “There were more of them than us, and they’re faster.”
“It was my deer,” Andrell protested. “They shouldn’t have—“
“And if you’d tried to take it from them, you would have gotten both of us killed, probably,” Kellom cut him off. “Besides, wolves need to eat, and we’re responsible for them, too.”
“Not if they’re thieves.”
“Yes, if they’re thieves. That’s what being a prince means. Being responsible for everything.” It had been obvious to him, even at Andrell’s age—but, then again, Andrell was the youngest, so maybe he hadn’t gotten that lesson as hard as Kellom or their older sisters had. Certainly Mellir hadn’t, and Tana…was Tana.
“It’s not fair,” Andrell muttered.
“No,” Kellom said. “Very little is.”
His little brother sighed, and kicked at a rock on the ground.
“I’m sorry, Andrell,” Kellom said. For so many things.
Andrell just shrugged. “Fine. Let’s just…let’s just go home.”
“It’s getting late,” Kellom agreed. “We can try again tomorrow, if you want.”
He shook his head. “I don’t want to.”
“If you change your mind, you know how to find me.”
Andrell didn’t answer, just turned away and started back.
It’ll get better, Kellom wanted to say, but he knew that wouldn’t help. Not now, when Andrell was raging at all the wrong things. “We can spar when we get back, if you want,” he offered, instead. That was probably a better solution than hunting. If only he’d thought of it this morning.
“All right,” Andrell said.
Kellom smiled a little, relieved Andrell had agreed. The alternative was likely Mellir, and his methods of coping would do more harm than good. Besides, he was the oldest, and, necessary as it had been, he was the cause of his brother’s current trouble. Whatever else he was, Kellom was responsible, in all senses of the world. He’d get him through this. Somehow.
Story: Responsible
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Dirt Brown #22. Stone, Spilt Ink #12. Today I did the best I could do. Not because I had to. Because I wanted to., Transparent #22. Vicious
Supplies and Materials: bichromatic, canvas (980 FY), oils, feathers, modeling clay, charcoal, pastels (my current gen + romance card G1 "honor"), novelty beads, yarn, glue ("You may feel waves of positive energy flowing into your life now, but you cannot integrate them until you resolve an unpleasant situation from the past. You might choose to avoid direct confrontation today.")
Word Count: 461
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Kellom, Andrell
Warnings: References to parental death/murder, Kellom
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. This incident is mentioned briefly here.
The hunting trip had probably been a bad idea, but Andrell had been so restless since Mother’s funeral—and, as necessary as it had been, Kellom did feel a little guilty; he wasn’t heartless. It had seemed a good idea, a way for Andrell to purge some of his ill-feeling and for the two of them to just spend time together, as brothers.
But then Andrell hadn’t made a clean kill, and by the time they’d tracked the buck to where it fell, a wolfpack had gotten at it. Kellom had had to stop him from shooting the wolves—just asking for one of them to get mauled or shot in the confusion—and that was when he realized that taking a grieving, frustrated teenager somewhere isolated and handing him a weapon wasn’t really the best way to help.
“You should’ve let me,” he grumbled.
Kellom shook his head. “There were more of them than us, and they’re faster.”
“It was my deer,” Andrell protested. “They shouldn’t have—“
“And if you’d tried to take it from them, you would have gotten both of us killed, probably,” Kellom cut him off. “Besides, wolves need to eat, and we’re responsible for them, too.”
“Not if they’re thieves.”
“Yes, if they’re thieves. That’s what being a prince means. Being responsible for everything.” It had been obvious to him, even at Andrell’s age—but, then again, Andrell was the youngest, so maybe he hadn’t gotten that lesson as hard as Kellom or their older sisters had. Certainly Mellir hadn’t, and Tana…was Tana.
“It’s not fair,” Andrell muttered.
“No,” Kellom said. “Very little is.”
His little brother sighed, and kicked at a rock on the ground.
“I’m sorry, Andrell,” Kellom said. For so many things.
Andrell just shrugged. “Fine. Let’s just…let’s just go home.”
“It’s getting late,” Kellom agreed. “We can try again tomorrow, if you want.”
He shook his head. “I don’t want to.”
“If you change your mind, you know how to find me.”
Andrell didn’t answer, just turned away and started back.
It’ll get better, Kellom wanted to say, but he knew that wouldn’t help. Not now, when Andrell was raging at all the wrong things. “We can spar when we get back, if you want,” he offered, instead. That was probably a better solution than hunting. If only he’d thought of it this morning.
“All right,” Andrell said.
Kellom smiled a little, relieved Andrell had agreed. The alternative was likely Mellir, and his methods of coping would do more harm than good. Besides, he was the oldest, and, necessary as it had been, he was the cause of his brother’s current trouble. Whatever else he was, Kellom was responsible, in all senses of the world. He’d get him through this. Somehow.