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rainbowfic2015-02-25 10:38 pm
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2015-02-25 10:38 pm
Cinnabar #6, Patriarch Purple #8, Alice Blue #12
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Private Life
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Cinnabar #6. Code, Patriarch Purple #8. underboss, Alice Blue #12. if everybody minded their own business, the world would go around a great deal faster than it does
Supplies and Materials: photography, feathers, modeling clay, charcoal, seed beads, novelty beads (400 words), glitter (""People aren’t either wicked or noble. They’re like chef’s salads, with good things and bad things chopped and mixed together in a vinaigrette of confusion and conflict." – Lemony Snicket, The Grim Grotto")
Word Count: 400
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Rema
Warnings: Rema, discussion of arranged marriage, treating one's children as tools. I think that covers everything, if I missed something, please let me know.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. I sat down to write something about Rema's day-to-day tasks running the Movement. Instead, this happened. Last Cinnabar!
Rema married two years after her little sister. She was fortunate enough to be given an allied husband, one she didn’t have to waste time manipulating into ignoring her secret work. And, unlike her sister, she was bright enough to avoid getting too attached. It was, perhaps, helpful that her husband, while right-minded and accommodating, proved hopelessly stupid, and useless for anything important. It didn’t take long for the first glow of optimism that even she’d managed to indulge in to fade. They did have two children, but otherwise largely ignored each other except when they had to make public appearances. He was, at least, tastefully discreet with his mistresses, unlike her father had been.
And she--well, if she was lonely, she had her work; more and more of it after Mother died and she stepped in as a leader in the Movement, and as naïve, sentimental little Nida’s handler. And even after Nida turned her back on them, there was still work to be done. Coded instructions and intelligence, scurrying back and forth to her niece and her other agents in the palace, to say nothing of the web of elegant secrecy spread throughout the city itself. Even her husband, on occasion, provided a useful tidbit. And they did have at least their children in common, though she hardly had time for them other than to ensure their loyalty and occasionally use them to run messages and keep an eye on the younger set at court.
So, perhaps not an ideal life, but a productive one. She and her husband could be civil, and the children were well-educated and principled. Anything else she lacked was a reasonable sacrifice for her Cause. And she could count her blessings--the necessary double-life she led didn’t extend to her husband and children. They may not be as useful as she’d hoped, but they were as trustworthy as any other operative she managed. In the privacy and security of her home, she could be free with her beliefs, if not always with her plans.
Rema might not be able to call herself quite happy, and her life may have largely rested on an intricate tapestry of secrets and manipulation, but she kept her household well-ordered and content. In her private life, while part of her knew--and still foolishly wished--she could have done better, she knew she could have done worse.
Story: Private Life
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Cinnabar #6. Code, Patriarch Purple #8. underboss, Alice Blue #12. if everybody minded their own business, the world would go around a great deal faster than it does
Supplies and Materials: photography, feathers, modeling clay, charcoal, seed beads, novelty beads (400 words), glitter (""People aren’t either wicked or noble. They’re like chef’s salads, with good things and bad things chopped and mixed together in a vinaigrette of confusion and conflict." – Lemony Snicket, The Grim Grotto")
Word Count: 400
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Rema
Warnings: Rema, discussion of arranged marriage, treating one's children as tools. I think that covers everything, if I missed something, please let me know.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. I sat down to write something about Rema's day-to-day tasks running the Movement. Instead, this happened. Last Cinnabar!
Rema married two years after her little sister. She was fortunate enough to be given an allied husband, one she didn’t have to waste time manipulating into ignoring her secret work. And, unlike her sister, she was bright enough to avoid getting too attached. It was, perhaps, helpful that her husband, while right-minded and accommodating, proved hopelessly stupid, and useless for anything important. It didn’t take long for the first glow of optimism that even she’d managed to indulge in to fade. They did have two children, but otherwise largely ignored each other except when they had to make public appearances. He was, at least, tastefully discreet with his mistresses, unlike her father had been.
And she--well, if she was lonely, she had her work; more and more of it after Mother died and she stepped in as a leader in the Movement, and as naïve, sentimental little Nida’s handler. And even after Nida turned her back on them, there was still work to be done. Coded instructions and intelligence, scurrying back and forth to her niece and her other agents in the palace, to say nothing of the web of elegant secrecy spread throughout the city itself. Even her husband, on occasion, provided a useful tidbit. And they did have at least their children in common, though she hardly had time for them other than to ensure their loyalty and occasionally use them to run messages and keep an eye on the younger set at court.
So, perhaps not an ideal life, but a productive one. She and her husband could be civil, and the children were well-educated and principled. Anything else she lacked was a reasonable sacrifice for her Cause. And she could count her blessings--the necessary double-life she led didn’t extend to her husband and children. They may not be as useful as she’d hoped, but they were as trustworthy as any other operative she managed. In the privacy and security of her home, she could be free with her beliefs, if not always with her plans.
Rema might not be able to call herself quite happy, and her life may have largely rested on an intricate tapestry of secrets and manipulation, but she kept her household well-ordered and content. In her private life, while part of her knew--and still foolishly wished--she could have done better, she knew she could have done worse.