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fandomweekly2017-01-16 03:51 pm
craftings) wrote in fandomweekly2017-01-16 03:51 pm
Entry tags:
[#28] Longing for a Smile (Original)
Theme Prompt: #028 - Old Fashioned
Title: Longing for a Smile
Fandom: Original
Rating/Warnings: N/A
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 979
Summary: While visiting a local village in the middle of a spring festival, Zenov'ren reflects on how the mess of their lives as Chosen started.
It's hard for him to imagine what his life was like before Vale had gone to shit, honestly. Zenov'ren isn't exactly one to reminisce about things, especially when it comes to his past. Years he spent being bitter and away from home, convinced he was wronged in the worst of ways, and that his sister happily took it from him.
Now... well, he's not so sure, anymore.
The trees of Giborna are in full bloom today; yellow petals being almost drowned out in a sea of green and blue. There's tables spread out all over the village, townspeople chattering happily amongst themselves about daily comings and goings. The local girls and young women wear crowns woven of dried branches and berries, signifying a new part of life and possibly love, if tradition holds for this day. Dyed cloth hangs from windows and paints vivid colors all across the way, the entire place in celebration for the changing seasons.
As he watches, however, Zen begins to notice something that's missing- his sister, Xyth'rin. The more diplomatic of the two, she's often the one to easily partake in activities such as this one, happily watching with wide eyes and laughing, despite not understanding the language she once spoke long ago. The life of a Chosen is a lonely one, oftentimes isolated and judged harshly before even stepping foot back out into the real world. Dragons teaching their magic to humans is frowned upon simply because of the changes it brings, and Zen and Xyth have bared the brunt of it since the decline.
Zen doesn't see her with the village leaders, nor with some of the elderly and trying to share stories through magic, and it bothers him. Xyth isn't one to shy from people, despite her inability to communicate. She's known for years now what she was meant to do in this role, and he suspects if she had a choice, she'd keep doing it until it killed her. Maybe that's why he's around; a perspective where self-worth doesn't equate to self-sacrifice, and that sometimes doing all you can is the best you can do. Zen doesn't think about it much.
In the midst of all this, there's a brush against his arm, and his head turns. Xyth'rin arrives by his side, a flood of warmth and understanding filling his chest as if he had always been cold and never noticed. He hates this bond they have at times; the one that allows them to feel each other's emotions, to see memories and visions from the other, that allows them to physically hurt each other by hurting themselves first. It gives them no privacy from each other, no matter how hard he tries to find it. Her yellow eyes connect with his and she crosses her arms, silently watching the festivities unfold and saying nothing.
He shouldn't be bothered by it. He is bothered by it.
Vaguely he can hear music beginning to be played from a distance, and he watches Xyth as she watches the crowd. There's something there in her face that he can only barely catch, a tenseness that sits there uncomfortably, as if she's about to instantly tear away and run. He doesn't understand why, and when he opens his mouth to say something, she turns her head to stare at him and the words die in this throat. There's laughter heard and several people share their stories, and someone calls for the Ceremony of Ribbons to be done, which results in a loud and joyous cheer. He remembers Inara's Ceremony of Ribbons were always held during the winter, even if it never did anything else but snow back home. Xyth and his mother would wear ribbons in their hair and his father would tell him stories of wanting to give his children away to their husband or wife with such pride. That was a long time ago, he realizes.
Xyth stiffens at his side suddenly, eyes watching the crowds as they gather for the ceremony, and she immediately leaves. That's when Zen feels the pit of his stomach grow cold and his lungs seem to constrict, suffocating him as he stands there, trying to breathe. He doesn't bother watching the rest of the ceremony; turning instead and going to look for his sister. The feeling will only grow worse if he ignores it- he knows this from experience by now.
He finds her by an old shed, away from the festivities and her back turned to him as he approaches. As he reaches out to ask what's wrong, she visibly shakes, face buried in her hands and breathing raggedly. Not a second later she turns to him, face looking towards the ground, one hand across her chest as she remains silent. It strikes him harder than any cold insult or deadly argument they've ever had. He knows her better than either of them want to admit.
She's trying not to cry.
He doesn't bother asking why- simple phrases flit in his head, suddenly. You- you took this from him. Sharp, bitter. I wanted to bring pride to this family; now all you'll bring is shame. You're no daughter of mine. Words he remembers vividly said by his father the day she was picked over Zen to be a Chosen. The thing he had prepared his entire life to be. He was angry, but his father was livid. Don't come back home. I don't want to see you anymore, you're a disgrace. Words that Xyth has lived with for the past ten years, and never spoke with him about once.
Zen doesn't say anything. Instead, he embraces her. In that moment, as she crumples into his arms and screams into his chest in pure grief, he realizes that he'll never understand the true weight she has felt at being completely and utterly alone all those years.
Title: Longing for a Smile
Fandom: Original
Rating/Warnings: N/A
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 979
Summary: While visiting a local village in the middle of a spring festival, Zenov'ren reflects on how the mess of their lives as Chosen started.
It's hard for him to imagine what his life was like before Vale had gone to shit, honestly. Zenov'ren isn't exactly one to reminisce about things, especially when it comes to his past. Years he spent being bitter and away from home, convinced he was wronged in the worst of ways, and that his sister happily took it from him.
Now... well, he's not so sure, anymore.
The trees of Giborna are in full bloom today; yellow petals being almost drowned out in a sea of green and blue. There's tables spread out all over the village, townspeople chattering happily amongst themselves about daily comings and goings. The local girls and young women wear crowns woven of dried branches and berries, signifying a new part of life and possibly love, if tradition holds for this day. Dyed cloth hangs from windows and paints vivid colors all across the way, the entire place in celebration for the changing seasons.
As he watches, however, Zen begins to notice something that's missing- his sister, Xyth'rin. The more diplomatic of the two, she's often the one to easily partake in activities such as this one, happily watching with wide eyes and laughing, despite not understanding the language she once spoke long ago. The life of a Chosen is a lonely one, oftentimes isolated and judged harshly before even stepping foot back out into the real world. Dragons teaching their magic to humans is frowned upon simply because of the changes it brings, and Zen and Xyth have bared the brunt of it since the decline.
Zen doesn't see her with the village leaders, nor with some of the elderly and trying to share stories through magic, and it bothers him. Xyth isn't one to shy from people, despite her inability to communicate. She's known for years now what she was meant to do in this role, and he suspects if she had a choice, she'd keep doing it until it killed her. Maybe that's why he's around; a perspective where self-worth doesn't equate to self-sacrifice, and that sometimes doing all you can is the best you can do. Zen doesn't think about it much.
In the midst of all this, there's a brush against his arm, and his head turns. Xyth'rin arrives by his side, a flood of warmth and understanding filling his chest as if he had always been cold and never noticed. He hates this bond they have at times; the one that allows them to feel each other's emotions, to see memories and visions from the other, that allows them to physically hurt each other by hurting themselves first. It gives them no privacy from each other, no matter how hard he tries to find it. Her yellow eyes connect with his and she crosses her arms, silently watching the festivities unfold and saying nothing.
He shouldn't be bothered by it. He is bothered by it.
Vaguely he can hear music beginning to be played from a distance, and he watches Xyth as she watches the crowd. There's something there in her face that he can only barely catch, a tenseness that sits there uncomfortably, as if she's about to instantly tear away and run. He doesn't understand why, and when he opens his mouth to say something, she turns her head to stare at him and the words die in this throat. There's laughter heard and several people share their stories, and someone calls for the Ceremony of Ribbons to be done, which results in a loud and joyous cheer. He remembers Inara's Ceremony of Ribbons were always held during the winter, even if it never did anything else but snow back home. Xyth and his mother would wear ribbons in their hair and his father would tell him stories of wanting to give his children away to their husband or wife with such pride. That was a long time ago, he realizes.
Xyth stiffens at his side suddenly, eyes watching the crowds as they gather for the ceremony, and she immediately leaves. That's when Zen feels the pit of his stomach grow cold and his lungs seem to constrict, suffocating him as he stands there, trying to breathe. He doesn't bother watching the rest of the ceremony; turning instead and going to look for his sister. The feeling will only grow worse if he ignores it- he knows this from experience by now.
He finds her by an old shed, away from the festivities and her back turned to him as he approaches. As he reaches out to ask what's wrong, she visibly shakes, face buried in her hands and breathing raggedly. Not a second later she turns to him, face looking towards the ground, one hand across her chest as she remains silent. It strikes him harder than any cold insult or deadly argument they've ever had. He knows her better than either of them want to admit.
She's trying not to cry.
He doesn't bother asking why- simple phrases flit in his head, suddenly. You- you took this from him. Sharp, bitter. I wanted to bring pride to this family; now all you'll bring is shame. You're no daughter of mine. Words he remembers vividly said by his father the day she was picked over Zen to be a Chosen. The thing he had prepared his entire life to be. He was angry, but his father was livid. Don't come back home. I don't want to see you anymore, you're a disgrace. Words that Xyth has lived with for the past ten years, and never spoke with him about once.
Zen doesn't say anything. Instead, he embraces her. In that moment, as she crumples into his arms and screams into his chest in pure grief, he realizes that he'll never understand the true weight she has felt at being completely and utterly alone all those years.
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