rohanne darkfire | d1 | fin
Oct 22, 2017 22:07:32 GMT -5
Post by Lyn𝛿is on Oct 22, 2017 22:07:32 GMT -5
[googlefont="Qwigley:400"]
rohanne darkfire
You were born in spring, like a young rabbit or duckling, with soft skin and light golden down on your head. As a baby, you hardly ever cried, and as you snuggled against your mother's bosom in your tiny pink dresses, they would coo at you and tell her what a sweet girl you were.
Sweet girl, pretty girl, you grew up wishing for nothing but to live up to those words of praise. While your brothers were steel you were fragile porcelain, too delicate for a life spent training at the Academy, or so they told you as they towered over you, their bodies forming a protective cage. The family, after all, always had ever so many plans afoot, and you are a sweet girl, your innocence to be shielded from the unforgiving world.
They have done so much for you, and surely you must show your gratitude, that they have never allowed you to struggle. So you try to bake cookies for your brother Damon's birthday, and when the smell of burning plastic reaches their nose you can only lower your head in apology as your brothers stream into the kitchen, laughing at the mess you have made. Any plans in your head are naught but foolishness, they say, and you open your mouth about to argue. But you are a sweet girl, and so you stay silent.
Your first friend wanted to join the Golden Pack. She whispered her burning desire to you one day, knowing that your brothers' friends were being invited one by one to test their strength against Bittersteel. But when you try to ask they ignore you, and when a promising break turns into a broken promise you're the one left to apologize and pick up the pieces. You still wonder if she thinks badly of you for taking so long to return to her with a final answer of no.
You are a sweet girl, and so you do not question it when your brothers tell you your ideas are ill-considered. You do not question it when they tell you you have much to learn, and you do not question it when they shelter you from that learning.
Until the day that illusion is suddenly and irrevocably shattered.
*
Bittersteel's family takes you in. You ought to be grateful, but all the long-buried feelings of unease begin bubbling up into dissatisfaction. You watch Bittersteel and Damon as they banter with each other, as they share a camaraderie with their Golden Pack you can never imagine having - and though many respect him, Bittersteel returns that respect to your brother, and you are jealous. But you are still a sweet girl, and you fear his anger. You understand that it is only his generosity that allows you a roof over your head, and it is far better to endure the condescension than to be thrown out onto the streets.
But you watch them fold Haegon into their ranks, and you fear losing him to Bittersteel's influence. You used to be able to confide in him, but now that he has joined them there is no good to be gained by expressing your dissatisfaction with Bittersteel, no use in competing with his powerful influence, and what use is a confidant if you cannot trust him to take your side any longer?
He has made his own bed, and though you wish to warn him that he is destroying his body in his quest for approval, you know he will not listen, and you imagine him gossiping with Bittersteel about what a foolish girl you are, to think such mean thoughts about them.
And sweet girls should not think such mean thoughts, should they? It is only the specter of jealousy that makes you resent him.
For that is unmistakable - that you burn with envy for those who command respect and influence as easily as snapping their fingers. You live in a house that is constantly under Bittersteel's shadow, and you watch as he issues commands to his Golden Pack effortlessly, as though he were simply stating facts.
He is far from sweet, and many flock to follow him. Yet in the few moments you try to project the confident bluntness that he does, you find that people only turn away. Such a sweet girl should not be acting that way, they tell you.
Your jealousy then shifts, and you look to Shiera. People do not call her sweet; they call her beautiful, or dangerous, or seductive. You watch as with a single gesture of hers, men begin feuding with each other for her affections, and you realize that although her influence does not stem from her strength, she commands no less than Bittersteel himself. But you do not have the body Shiera does, nor the charm to make use of it, and she remains a mystery that you cannot solve.
So you live in fear and jealousy for what you do not understand. Who controls your fortune or how they do it; how some people become well-connected enough to get away with mistreating others or breaking the rules, while your parents who had always seemed innocent were arrested and killed for treason.
But you are always learning, and there will come a day when the final question you must ask is this:
How far are you willing to go in using that knowledge?
Sweet girl, pretty girl, you grew up wishing for nothing but to live up to those words of praise. While your brothers were steel you were fragile porcelain, too delicate for a life spent training at the Academy, or so they told you as they towered over you, their bodies forming a protective cage. The family, after all, always had ever so many plans afoot, and you are a sweet girl, your innocence to be shielded from the unforgiving world.
They have done so much for you, and surely you must show your gratitude, that they have never allowed you to struggle. So you try to bake cookies for your brother Damon's birthday, and when the smell of burning plastic reaches their nose you can only lower your head in apology as your brothers stream into the kitchen, laughing at the mess you have made. Any plans in your head are naught but foolishness, they say, and you open your mouth about to argue. But you are a sweet girl, and so you stay silent.
Your first friend wanted to join the Golden Pack. She whispered her burning desire to you one day, knowing that your brothers' friends were being invited one by one to test their strength against Bittersteel. But when you try to ask they ignore you, and when a promising break turns into a broken promise you're the one left to apologize and pick up the pieces. You still wonder if she thinks badly of you for taking so long to return to her with a final answer of no.
You are a sweet girl, and so you do not question it when your brothers tell you your ideas are ill-considered. You do not question it when they tell you you have much to learn, and you do not question it when they shelter you from that learning.
Until the day that illusion is suddenly and irrevocably shattered.
*
Bittersteel's family takes you in. You ought to be grateful, but all the long-buried feelings of unease begin bubbling up into dissatisfaction. You watch Bittersteel and Damon as they banter with each other, as they share a camaraderie with their Golden Pack you can never imagine having - and though many respect him, Bittersteel returns that respect to your brother, and you are jealous. But you are still a sweet girl, and you fear his anger. You understand that it is only his generosity that allows you a roof over your head, and it is far better to endure the condescension than to be thrown out onto the streets.
But you watch them fold Haegon into their ranks, and you fear losing him to Bittersteel's influence. You used to be able to confide in him, but now that he has joined them there is no good to be gained by expressing your dissatisfaction with Bittersteel, no use in competing with his powerful influence, and what use is a confidant if you cannot trust him to take your side any longer?
He has made his own bed, and though you wish to warn him that he is destroying his body in his quest for approval, you know he will not listen, and you imagine him gossiping with Bittersteel about what a foolish girl you are, to think such mean thoughts about them.
And sweet girls should not think such mean thoughts, should they? It is only the specter of jealousy that makes you resent him.
For that is unmistakable - that you burn with envy for those who command respect and influence as easily as snapping their fingers. You live in a house that is constantly under Bittersteel's shadow, and you watch as he issues commands to his Golden Pack effortlessly, as though he were simply stating facts.
He is far from sweet, and many flock to follow him. Yet in the few moments you try to project the confident bluntness that he does, you find that people only turn away. Such a sweet girl should not be acting that way, they tell you.
Your jealousy then shifts, and you look to Shiera. People do not call her sweet; they call her beautiful, or dangerous, or seductive. You watch as with a single gesture of hers, men begin feuding with each other for her affections, and you realize that although her influence does not stem from her strength, she commands no less than Bittersteel himself. But you do not have the body Shiera does, nor the charm to make use of it, and she remains a mystery that you cannot solve.
So you live in fear and jealousy for what you do not understand. Who controls your fortune or how they do it; how some people become well-connected enough to get away with mistreating others or breaking the rules, while your parents who had always seemed innocent were arrested and killed for treason.
But you are always learning, and there will come a day when the final question you must ask is this:
How far are you willing to go in using that knowledge?
thorns remain while flowers fade
