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fandomweekly2024-11-06 09:18 pm
dray) wrote in fandomweekly2024-11-06 09:18 pm
Entry tags:
[#240] A BITTER FUTURE
Theme Prompt: #240 - Future
Title: A Bitter Future
Fandom: The Books of the Raksura
Rating/Warnings: PG
Bonus: n/a
Word Count: 1,144 words
Summary: An AU after the third of the Raksura books, when (spoilers) Moon returns to Indigo Cloud after meeting his family
The leaves of the mountain tree had grown as familiar as the scent of a well-loved bedroll, of freshly cooked soup, of home. It had been quite a few turns since Moon had first allowed himself to openly admit to himself that the scent of fresh rain in the canopy could mean anything other than a heart-wrenching feeling ready to be ripped away. But there was at least one other consort he knew of who couldn't, or wouldn't, do the same. And far be it for him to make any promises, or even to offer advice. He'd grown up trying to fit into a world that inherently didn't want him, and even among his own people, he more often felt like an observer in a dream world than an active participant.
The worst of those days seemed to be largely behind him, as he was learning one slow, hard lesson at a time. If the path to acceptance was rooted in the course of simply embracing the good in life-- as though 'simply' was ever the way of it-- then he could share that... couldn't he?
So he had spread his wings and leapt from one of the many-strides wide branches that supported the colony, and he'd taken his time weaving between ever-branching bows as he listened for much smaller, harder wingbeats behind him. He didn't look back, but he made himself an accessible target to aim for. 'Just try to follow me,' he thought, remembering what it must be like to still be learning to fly in a world that could at any moment strike you down. About what it would have been like if he'd had Sorrow to help him when he'd felt so vulnerable. About what it would be like if his mother had been there.
He breached the ragged edge of the canopy and swung around wide, watching as a much smaller raksura struggled up past the twigs and body-sized leaves. That little raksura was Bitter, the youngest consort rescued from the clutches of the Fell. The last of only a trio who'd been saved from the decimated colony of Sky Copper, turns ago now. Back when they'd first arrived at the colony tree of Indigo Cloud, Bitter refused to learn to fly. He would sit in Moon's lap and watch his brother and sister intently, like he was memorizing every wing beat, but he himself could not be coaxed to it.
It made Moon's throat close up a little that he'd made it up here tonight. He circled a little closer to the boy, pointing to a lightning-blasted branch that rose above the sea of leaves. "That's the one," he called. The winds had settled once the sun had set, so though Bitter's voice could have carried a response, the little consort only turned course and made his way to the branch.
Moon landed near the crux, careful not to shake the child out of it before he'd settled down. Though Bitter was bigger now, he still sidled in close and then leaned up against Moon's side in a comfortable fit, sighing when Moon settled one large wing around his shoulders. Bitter didn't talk, as a rule, but he listened incredibly well. Moon had seen that in him early, so when Bitter didn't try to make any conversation now, he didn't take offense. Instead, he craned his neck up and looked to the emerging stars above. The constellations here were a little different from how he'd seen them in his youth, but by and large they were the same. To the north, a huge chunk of floating island not much higher than the canopy drifted on its slow course near the horizon, and somewhere far, far above, the distant keening of air-born beasts kept the night alive. There were warriors patrolling below, and almost certainly there were one or two keeping an eye on the two of them, but up here, it felt easy to be alone.
"When I'm feeling unsure," Moon started, skipping ahead of himself and his worrying that coming up here had put a strain on Bitter, on all the other worrying that was running as a constant in the back of his mind, "I like to find places like this. See the stars up there? They move, they change... but they always come back."
Was he spouting garbage? He squelched his desire to backpedal, to shut up. Bitter wasn't going to smack him for being sentimental, of all the people in the colony. So he continued, "no matter where you are, you can follow the light of the Guide, there," he pointed, and felt Bitter shifting to follow the angle of his finger, "or the Three Travellers over there. You could be all the way to the east coast, and those would help tell you how far off course you were." Of course, all raksura had an innate sense of north and south, but he struggled to find the emotional import of what he was trying to say.
Going quite for a moment, Moon rallied. "When I was as young as you, it was hard to make friends." He could feel Bitter begin to tense, and knew he'd made a misstep. "I mean, if I was feeling sad, or scared, sometimes I would look to the stars, and sometimes it would feel like they were friends. They were always there, and even in the darkest night, they helped keep me out of too much trouble."
That was an understatement... but Bitter didn't need to know the details of Moon's struggles. He'd already suffered so much. So Moon said, "I hope that when you get to be my age, they'll be good friends for you, too, Bitter." And now he was sounding old and sappy. He sighed, acknowledging that maybe it would be nice if the boy ever did speak, if only so that he knew he wasn't rambling.
But he knew how to fix this. He went on, "and, you know what's even better about the stars?"
He could feel Bitter's head shift in a 'no', which was an excellent sign. "They're better viewed-- upside down!" He had scooped the boy up in arm and wing, and now he leaned backwards off the branch, falling.
Bitter shrieked and dug claws into him, tense as a bow. But they swung in gentling arcs from Moon's tail, which was coiled tightly around the branch, and as Bitter realized what had happened, his shriek turned into unexpected laughter. His little claws were still jammed in between Moon's black scales, but Moon put up with it, all to hear that rarest treasure of the young raksura's joy. They settled together like that, after a little while, looking up at the night sky from their unique vantage point, and Moon allowed himself to admit that this felt like home, too.
Title: A Bitter Future
Fandom: The Books of the Raksura
Rating/Warnings: PG
Bonus: n/a
Word Count: 1,144 words
Summary: An AU after the third of the Raksura books, when (spoilers) Moon returns to Indigo Cloud after meeting his family
The leaves of the mountain tree had grown as familiar as the scent of a well-loved bedroll, of freshly cooked soup, of home. It had been quite a few turns since Moon had first allowed himself to openly admit to himself that the scent of fresh rain in the canopy could mean anything other than a heart-wrenching feeling ready to be ripped away. But there was at least one other consort he knew of who couldn't, or wouldn't, do the same. And far be it for him to make any promises, or even to offer advice. He'd grown up trying to fit into a world that inherently didn't want him, and even among his own people, he more often felt like an observer in a dream world than an active participant.
The worst of those days seemed to be largely behind him, as he was learning one slow, hard lesson at a time. If the path to acceptance was rooted in the course of simply embracing the good in life-- as though 'simply' was ever the way of it-- then he could share that... couldn't he?
So he had spread his wings and leapt from one of the many-strides wide branches that supported the colony, and he'd taken his time weaving between ever-branching bows as he listened for much smaller, harder wingbeats behind him. He didn't look back, but he made himself an accessible target to aim for. 'Just try to follow me,' he thought, remembering what it must be like to still be learning to fly in a world that could at any moment strike you down. About what it would have been like if he'd had Sorrow to help him when he'd felt so vulnerable. About what it would be like if his mother had been there.
He breached the ragged edge of the canopy and swung around wide, watching as a much smaller raksura struggled up past the twigs and body-sized leaves. That little raksura was Bitter, the youngest consort rescued from the clutches of the Fell. The last of only a trio who'd been saved from the decimated colony of Sky Copper, turns ago now. Back when they'd first arrived at the colony tree of Indigo Cloud, Bitter refused to learn to fly. He would sit in Moon's lap and watch his brother and sister intently, like he was memorizing every wing beat, but he himself could not be coaxed to it.
It made Moon's throat close up a little that he'd made it up here tonight. He circled a little closer to the boy, pointing to a lightning-blasted branch that rose above the sea of leaves. "That's the one," he called. The winds had settled once the sun had set, so though Bitter's voice could have carried a response, the little consort only turned course and made his way to the branch.
Moon landed near the crux, careful not to shake the child out of it before he'd settled down. Though Bitter was bigger now, he still sidled in close and then leaned up against Moon's side in a comfortable fit, sighing when Moon settled one large wing around his shoulders. Bitter didn't talk, as a rule, but he listened incredibly well. Moon had seen that in him early, so when Bitter didn't try to make any conversation now, he didn't take offense. Instead, he craned his neck up and looked to the emerging stars above. The constellations here were a little different from how he'd seen them in his youth, but by and large they were the same. To the north, a huge chunk of floating island not much higher than the canopy drifted on its slow course near the horizon, and somewhere far, far above, the distant keening of air-born beasts kept the night alive. There were warriors patrolling below, and almost certainly there were one or two keeping an eye on the two of them, but up here, it felt easy to be alone.
"When I'm feeling unsure," Moon started, skipping ahead of himself and his worrying that coming up here had put a strain on Bitter, on all the other worrying that was running as a constant in the back of his mind, "I like to find places like this. See the stars up there? They move, they change... but they always come back."
Was he spouting garbage? He squelched his desire to backpedal, to shut up. Bitter wasn't going to smack him for being sentimental, of all the people in the colony. So he continued, "no matter where you are, you can follow the light of the Guide, there," he pointed, and felt Bitter shifting to follow the angle of his finger, "or the Three Travellers over there. You could be all the way to the east coast, and those would help tell you how far off course you were." Of course, all raksura had an innate sense of north and south, but he struggled to find the emotional import of what he was trying to say.
Going quite for a moment, Moon rallied. "When I was as young as you, it was hard to make friends." He could feel Bitter begin to tense, and knew he'd made a misstep. "I mean, if I was feeling sad, or scared, sometimes I would look to the stars, and sometimes it would feel like they were friends. They were always there, and even in the darkest night, they helped keep me out of too much trouble."
That was an understatement... but Bitter didn't need to know the details of Moon's struggles. He'd already suffered so much. So Moon said, "I hope that when you get to be my age, they'll be good friends for you, too, Bitter." And now he was sounding old and sappy. He sighed, acknowledging that maybe it would be nice if the boy ever did speak, if only so that he knew he wasn't rambling.
But he knew how to fix this. He went on, "and, you know what's even better about the stars?"
He could feel Bitter's head shift in a 'no', which was an excellent sign. "They're better viewed-- upside down!" He had scooped the boy up in arm and wing, and now he leaned backwards off the branch, falling.
Bitter shrieked and dug claws into him, tense as a bow. But they swung in gentling arcs from Moon's tail, which was coiled tightly around the branch, and as Bitter realized what had happened, his shriek turned into unexpected laughter. His little claws were still jammed in between Moon's black scales, but Moon put up with it, all to hear that rarest treasure of the young raksura's joy. They settled together like that, after a little while, looking up at the night sky from their unique vantage point, and Moon allowed himself to admit that this felt like home, too.
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Thank you! I needed some fluff.
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