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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
Crew
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 Posted: Fri Jun 22, 2012 6:18 am
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Posted: Sun Sep 09, 2012 9:27 pm
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 Solo
She was maybe 5. It was summer, cicadas filling the air with a light buzz as she walked by her mother's side, her tiny hand held so she would not stray. "Mother, where are we going?" Her mother smiled and only gave a vague reply of 'Someplace you will like'. A way to keep her daughter from asking again. When they arrived at the courtyard, children were playing, kicking a ball around while mothers chatted amongst themselves. Little girls sat in a circle, playing with dolls and flowers. The ages of the children varies, the oldest looking to be just under 15. The older the child, the less they played, the more they had open scrolls and were busy with their work.
Tiny fist balled into the skirts of her mother's dress as Lan looked to the other children. The girls were being rather quiet, and less playing with each other than playing with themselves. On occasion they passed a few words back and forth, maybe glared at each other, over what Lan didn't know, but she felt a distaste for them. There was no excitement there. Nothing but self absorbed brats. Like herself, not that she knew such a thing at the age of 5. All she knew was that they looked boring. She wanted to have conversation, to find someone interesting. Boy were practicing their writing, all quite terrible in her opinion when compared to her. Her first interest was in an older boy. The reason? Unlike the other children, there were no horns on his head, yet his clothes spoke of his station.
Nobles had horns, this was just how things were. Lan was too young to understand that sometimes, a child came without, that on occasion, a horseman would be seen as 'lacking'. So with great curiosity, the little girl made her way to the 12 year old, gold eyes wide as she sat herself across from him. He looked up, seemingly a bit shocked at her presence before quietly asking her to stop blocking the sunlight as he would like to finish his writing.
He was rude to order her, not even uttering a 'please'. Yet she scoot a mocking few inches, only to have him glare at her. "Can I help you?" She smiled as she'd been told to do and nodded her head. "Yes. I am Lan." He stared at her, growing slightly frustrated. Her mother watched on, speaking to another woman in hushed tones that passed the child's mind. "I wish to know why you lack horns." The boy stopped his brush stroke mid character, looking at her, anger clear on his face. "I just don't have them." His voice was curt and she pouted. "How come?" He wasn't even able to resume his writing. "I was born without them. Not everyone in the clan has horns."
"Only those born of common blood." Raw anger on his face. "Are you saying I am of common blood?"
"No, only wondering why you don't have horns like the others here. It makes you different. " Their rather one sided conversation was interrupted by the mocking tone of a boy from behind them.
"He's a freak, that's what!" The hornless one bit his lip as children began to laugh and snicker. Lan looked around them and smiling said.
"But unlike you, he can at least write. Not to mention his clothes do not have grass stains on the ends of his sleeves. Better to be a freak than to be a fool no?" The boy clammed up, giving her an evil look as the other children seemed to change the focus of their laughter. Her smile shifted back to the hornless boy as she whispered. "I'm sorry. I didn't know we could come.. without." There was a hint of shame in her voice as she moved away from him, leaving the boy to his work.
"Lan." His voice came out, no longer angry. "Forgive my earlier rudeness, I am Mengyao." He was red in the face, giving a small bow if awkwardly. Her face lit up and she returned the greeting, bending slightly. "A pleasure Mengyao. I hope your writing goes well."
"May fortune smile upon you."
"And you."
She went to a nearby koi pond, standing next to it while admiring the fish that scattered at her shadow. She didn't hear the feet behind her, and when he coughed she spun, gold hair hitting him in the face. Immedietly she apologized, only to hear a light laughter bubble up from the boy. He had green eyes and jet black hair. Common, and his horns were the same jet color, curling back like those of a dragon unbranching.
"I heard what you said." Lan beamed at him. "And I think you're an idiot." That cleared the smile right off of her face. Glaring at him, she turned back to the koi pond she ignored him, waving him off with ehr hand. A snicker, he introduced himself as Zhong, and said he'd see her later.
From her eyes she hoped to see him never. |
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
Crew
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
Crew
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Posted: Thu Oct 04, 2012 11:20 am
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Solo
She didn’t understand at first. The boy- several years her senior, was her fiancé. She was a child, a filly. The boy who sat across from her- He looked bored, unimpressed. He had black hair, horns that curled along his skull. He even sneered at her when she introduced herself to him. He wasn’t chided for it, but she was chided for the face she made at him, a pout. It wasn’t until the meeting was over that she saw him again. Zhong. Only his green eyes were not amused, now they were slightly sad, a look of pity. His brother. His elder brother at that. She didn’t understand the look until her fiancé pulled her along, demanding she obey him, and when met with gold eyes of defiance- He scowled at her, calling her an ‘ugly foreign thing’. Why was her hair gold? Why were her eyes amber? How come she was so small, so puny? Her horns were so pathetic, and her cheeks are far too fat. Her dress? The boy who was her fiancé hurled insult after insult, a final act of hate, utter hate as he spat at her feet when their parents would not see. There was no love in his eyes, only disgust.
Lan was a child, not knowing why her parents had paired her with him. They told her he was just angry, just young and he’d love her in time. That he was getting over the death of his youngest brother, lost to illness along with his mother. Lan accepted that, and so she went home, hoping her new fiancé might be kinder when he saw her next.
It was a foolish hope.
It was a hope she held onto day after day.
That one day, her fiancé might speak a kind word to her. That he might compliment her. Notice the small things she tried to do to make him happy. How she would wear a scent she’d been told her liked. How when he mentioned how he liked another girl’s hair, how she’d try the style herself. How he would look at a certain dress and she’d get in that color or style. How he might mention something he liked to eat, how she’d order it for him. She would smile, ask him how his day went, how his studies were going.
He never cared. He never gave a kind word, a passing glance. There were no acts of kindness. “Father said you’ll give me power, that once we’re married, our line will be closer to the throne than it has been in generations. That I’ll gain more weight in the courts when I attend. The power of two houses to my name. You know what else he told me trinket?” His pet name for her, his plaything, a reminder how little she meant to him. “He told me I didn’t have to like you, that once we’re married and I get one brat from you, I can have as many concubines as I like. I just need your house under my rule Lan, that’s all. Once I have that? I’ll find the woman I really want.”
Summer to fall, to winter then spring. Again a cycle. And then Another. Years passed, nothing changed. Only one thing. Zhong. He was kind to her. He told her jokes, teased her gently, gave her little secrets about his brother, what might curry his favor. Zhong became her friend. Zhong, the second son, who was not to rule, but to fight. He was tall and lanky, all sticks he said. When his brother was cruel, and Lan couldn’t smile, he would be there, offering her tiny rice cakes. Candied orange peel. Zhong was her friend, and even as his brother was cruel and nothing he told Lan helped her. He promised he’d try to talk with his brother. Surely, he might see how hard she was trying to please him. She was not an ugly girl. Young, but then her marriage to him had been arranged before they were even born.
The next time she saw him, Zhong had a broken arm. His brother a broken hand. A fight she was told. Apparently Zhong had said something unkind to his brother, and the fight had escalated, the younger breaking the elder’s hand. Zhong’s arm broken in a fall. Lan was afraid that day. When her fiancé was in the room he was quiet, he moved in anger, stiff motions, he brought his good hand to her hair, fingers running down before cupping her face.
“Trinket, let me be clear to you. You’re my fiancé. I’ll treat you like I want. You’re just a stepping stone to me. If I had my way, I wouldn’t even need to marry you. But I need to. So, let me extra clear about this. You’re going to pretend you’re happy. That you love me. That I’m the best fiancé you could ever want. You do that and I won’t make your life miserable. Maybe I’ll even be gentle on our wedding night. But if you ever make anyone think that I’m anything less than perfect?”
Fingers dug into her face as green eyes, far too bright for her liking shone with promise. With violence.
“I’m your fiancé Lan. Your life will one day be mine. Remember that.”
He left her alone the rest of the day. And it wasn’t until she was home that she curled into her bed and cried. She was young. She knew only stories, tales of true love, of how fiancés treated their intended so kindly. How they would learn about each other. Her intended was nothing like stories. He was nothing like true love. He was her fiancé.
And that was simply that.
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Posted: Sat Oct 06, 2012 5:28 pm
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Solo
Why did she say she would do this? Why did ever say she’d try this? The smell of incense was choking, and unlike the smell she knew, this was not one of a familiar scent from her childhood. It was the scent of death, of trance. That alone had her uneasy. The smell of the place was consuming and there was no fresh air. How the priestesses did it and not lose their senses baffled her. Then again maybe they did, maybe it was the price they paid for their visions. Lan didn’t know, she didn’t want to know. Trance terrified her, the idea she would see what could have been, what would be- it scared her. She had buried a great many of her demons. She’d gotten over what happened to her once. And Zhong- Her lair- She was scared. They were lost to her. It terrified her to see what could have been. What should have been.
She wasn’t just scared of seeing him. She was scared of seeing her friends. Of seeing her mother and father. Of seeing her soldiers, of those whos lives she led so carelessly, of who she’d, in such a brief moment, had sent to their doom. How close had she come to it herself? The soldiers going first, only to be engulfed, the portal breaking down from the other side, stopping her and some of the others. She’d killed them. Good intentions did not excuse her. They were dead, out of honor and duty, they had done nothing wrong. Only her, for not waiting, for acting rashly. Had she not- what then? Maybe nothing, maybe everything. Lan hated the maybes. She hated the fact she didn’t know. More than that, she hated how she was scared to know. She was a coward, a coward of her own creation.
Yet still she’d come. She told Soren she’d try it, and he’d called her a coward. It pricked her, to hear him say that. To hear anyone say that. She didn’t want to be a coward, she wanted to be strong, she wanted to lead, to rule. Even if it was something as simple as her own house, she wanted to have control. But she’d lost it. Lost control over everything it felt like. Her life was in tatters. Like a flag held high in battle it was only so long before the flames and blood below would ruin the cloth and change was was once pristine to something sullied. Lan had been high, untouched, but the second the first mark appeared, she was doomed. Mark after mark, little stains that couldn’t be washed out, things she couldn’t forget, dismiss or ignore. Until finally, she fell. She fell and was now only holding herself up buy tattered remains.
She’d once been the daughter of two powerful horsemen. One the son of an emperor, the other a daughter of a noble so distant, yet wealthy. She’d been born under a summer sky, sun shining down they told her, and the day she’d been born their lair had harvested over a hundred humans, her family’s wealth with trade had never seen such prosperity. She was their golden child, the one who would bring them greatness and honor. She was a drop of sunlight. Her mother telling her how she’d been born with black hair and brown eyes like her father, but the second the sun touched her face, she lit up, hair turning to spun gold, eyes glittering as the sun’s own light was trapped in her. She was their golden child.
She was their only child.
It pained her to think about it as they readied trance for her. It was a quick process, and they emphasized how she ought to relax. Nothing would hurt her. She had nothing to worry about. That is what her parents had told her about when she’d started with her bow. Looking back, she’d have preferred a spear. But then-
‘You don’t belong on the front lines where you can be torn up. You are suited to the bow, to taking your enemy down at a distance, untouchable.’
His words cut to her even so long past. How he’d given her reason, flattery to help her choose. Later he’d told her it was because he never wanted to see her wounded, that if she took the spear that he’d not be able to protect her as well. He was the soldier, what good was a soldier if he could not protect his lady?
What good was a horseman who couldn’t protect the one he loved?
She felt tears at the edge of her vision. He was dead and gone, yet even now, small memories made her want to cry. Now- what could have been. What should have been. She would try.
For Zhong.
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
Crew
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
Crew
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Posted: Wed Nov 28, 2012 9:19 pm
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Solo
Why had she gotten it again? Why did she buy the abomination that was the ugly sweater made out of alpaca fur? It was bright, colorful, had a rather tacky pattern, and really she was hardly sure who in their right mind would wear it, much less in public. A slow frown was cast over her features as Lan inspected the work put into the sweater more closely now that she was not in public. In public she just looked awkward holding it. It wasn’t even the colors of her clan for ancestor’s sake. She would not suffer such an indignity.
Gold eyes ran over seems, looking for a single loose thread. None. Fingers went over stitching as she tried to find flaw in the weave. After all, nothing was ever perfect. Nothing not from conquest at least. Her mindset ever present, the horsewoman would not abandon the notion that her clan was without flaw, that it was indeed, perfect. A fool’s notion, one she’d yet to abandon. Still she would inspect her purchase and see if it was even worth consideration as a gift. It had been a passing purchase really. Nothing she needed to get but yet had gotten anyway. Frivolous. She could afford it. Still had made more a profit than a loss at the little spirit week.
Her inner business woman was so very proud, even if her scrolls were a bit childish. She’d made things for children as that was all halloweeners were to her. Children. Toys. Dolls. Tools. They held no meaning. They could not hold meaning. Even if they did, she was a horsewoman. Their lives would likely flicker and die out before she had even reached the prime of her own life. Granted, she was several hundred years old already and STILL had yet to really go through puberty or the promised growth spurt so denied to her, but still. Still, halloweeners were children.
And yet that was what she was seen as. A child. Shoulders sinking back as fingers ran over the soft woven sweater Lan sighed. Alone in her little part of the conquest reserve, she was allowed to have her emotions so freely. Outside she was expected to be an adult, to be a master of herself. But then, that had gone and been ruined several times now hadn’t it? First with Soren, who thank her stars, was honorable in his own right to not share such a thing, but then she’d gone and lost herself in front of two of her own clan. She’d cried in front of Mengyao of all horsemen, and Lifen, kind and sweet Lifen too.
Shoulders did more than slumping as Lan fell to her side, soft pillows breaking her fall. Eyes half closed she wondered if she should bring it up to them. Ask if they would forgive her loss of control. She’d hardly seen Mengyao since the incident, and Lifen was being much like a mother bird tending to her chicks, checking up on them.
A small blessing, perhaps, that the artisan hadn’t pressed into the matter herself. That she had simply moved on. The sweater was tossed behind her as Lan rolled onto her stomach, finger picking at the stray silk thread of a pillow. She missed things. She missed them and wanted them back just like a child despite knowing the very real facts and how it would never come to be. While she made peace with them… She still missed them, still mourned them. She had lost everything, and it felt like all she had left were strings. Threads that couldn’t even be suited for a patchwork job on a low born child’s pants. Nothing. Useless, worthless, not enough for anything feasible.
A slow breath in, a slow breath out. She wanted to hear the sound of cicadas at night again. The soft rustle of bamboo, smell the incense that never seemed to cease burning. But it was just a memory now, just a string of thoughts that formed nothing but sadness.
No, not even sadness any longer. Just a void. An emptiness inside of her. She had once dreamed of being so happy, of having her own home, of having children, of ceremonies that would mark her and change her life. Now where was she?
Alone. On the floor. Picking at silk threads and feeling sorry for herself. She’d not even read the book her cousin had given her yet. Her sad look of self apathy was slowly altering. She refused to be seen like this. To be like this. She had told him- She had told him she would live for herself. That she would move on. Empty or not, she had to press forward. However much shame she had, embarrassment, confusion, hate, fear- nothing had to hold her back.
Sweater in hand she wrapped and set it by the door. She would make her plans, and even if they failed, she would simply have to press on.
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Posted: Thu Nov 29, 2012 5:46 am
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Extra
Lan looked at herself in the mirror. Red and white- the colors of her clan. However, the outfit was nothing like what one of her clan, much less one of her station would wear. It came up far too high to be decent for any sort of event. It was utterly something festive, if not downright for fun. Did she know anything about Christmas? Did she care? Hardly. In the end the purchase had been on a whim. It was cute, and it looked cute on her. She wanted to feel cute, to simply indulge herself. And so she’d made the purchase with Lifen. She had worn in back from their little shopping trip, not minding the snow for once. She almost felt she matched it.
She felt like she was trying at any rate, to be a little more welcoming of Halloween and it’s odd festivities. Including their odd fascination with ‘Christmas’. A human holiday of JOY, rather disgusting in itself but, halloweeners liked parts of it. Lan just liked the cute outfit. Striped stockings, little black boots that were surprisingly warm. Immaculate fur trim, white as the snow in the ground. She had wanted the best, and has certainly gotten what she paid for. The lacy white ruffles filled the skirt out into something she’d seen a few ghouls wearing. Naturally, she wore it better.
There was admittedly, a few issues with the outfit. One being that it pushed her chest out a little… too much. She was well endowed for one of her clan, she knew as much. Zhong had made THAT fact of his infatuation very clear to her early on. At the very least he’d grown out of it by the time they were engaged. Well. Mostly grown out of it at any rate. Males would be males as her mother told her. But the outfit was pushing them in a way that was rather suggestive. Bordering too suggestive. It would just be up to Lan to not play into such things. It was still, an overall cute outfit. The second problems was… the skirt. She’d admit it at least. The skirt was short, and the ruffles made it go out. While it did accent her hips, it also made it impossible for her to bend down if her needed to. If she dropped anything… well she’d made that mistake once on the walk back. The blush that had risen to her cheeks at the passing stallion’s whistle was more than enough to have her vowing to never make that mistake again.
Still, cute. She looked cute. Festive, bright- the colors of her clan. Not traditional in any sense of the word, but enjoyable. Fingers went over the white trim, picking away a loose stand of hair. The gold of her hair even matched the outfit with it’s little gold buttons here and there. The gloves she’d bought, red with white trim were soft, and not to mention, they were rather warm as well. What was so bad about such aspects of the outfit? Answer: Nothing. It was warm, despite the lack of covering on her legs. She felt cozy and cute. Of course, she could modify the outfit a bit. The pom ties to go on the gloves removed, they actually looked a bit better in her hair. Ornamental really.
Looking back into her mirror it wasn’t quite perfect just yet. No- she needed something more. A look around her things and she saw it. The tiny hair clip with bells. Set just with the hair ties- yes. A few steps, and she was jingling. For som reason, the sound pleased her more than it should. A light giggle to herself, Lan peeked out of her portion of the communal living space- befor darting back behind closed doors, prancing about in front of her mirror for a bit, admiring herself. And jingling. She liked the jingling. She almost felt like a filly, prancing about her room in some outfit as she was but lan couldn’t be bothered to quite care. She felt positively… happy. Even with the thoughts of Zhong from but moments past, she didn’t quite feel sad. She was just… content. Pleased even.
Maybe a bit excited too? She couldn’t quite place why. But she liked it. This feeling. Shrugging her shoulders to feel the warm fuzz of the fur, he made a small happy sound. Almost a whiny. ALMOST. He makini was giving her odd looks, not used to seeing her lady like this. Not just in dress but in attitude. It was utterly unlike her. She was happy. Spirited. Practically.. JOYful.
To anyone who knew Lan, they would know she was not herself, not completely. Oh she certainly was vain, and later when she would go walking enjoying the snow prancing, it would be very obvious.
Someone had gotten a little too exposed to the JOY and was having a bad reaction.
---------Is this real life or fantasyyyyyyyy?
http://scienceismy.rampantobsession.com/Entropy/ART/TIH/santalanfen.png inspiration
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
Crew
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
Crew
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Posted: Thu Nov 29, 2012 7:24 am
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Solo
It was sitting on her desk, untouched. Oh she knew she would have to read it. That she would have to absorb every word, every little drop of information she could. Memorize each line. Now to the letter. The Art of War. There was art in war? At first glance to the clan? She didn’t see any art. Just brutality. Wild, near mindless fighting. Hardly refined, hardly cultured, hardly worth merit. Yet she had given Eris insult. A horsewoman above her in a most strange place. Someone who made her cousin, their heir, happy. And a happy heir? Well that was just something that would doubtlessly help any in her clan. Yet Lan had gone and upset Eris. Upset Invictus. Rightly so in her actions. Foolish actions. Foolish actions and foolish words.
Intent did not matter when one was a fool. A fool was a fool. Some things just were. How she wanted to ask her father for his council. He had always spoiled his daughter. Affectionate they called him, sometimes she would hear the whispers. Like how they thought he was weak, not seeking to rise above his place in the bloodlines. How growing up he’d loved his bothers too much to try and do them harm. That her father was a fool, one who could have rise above yet had chosen to remain as he was, unchallenging. He’d only fought his younger siblings who sought to get closer to the throne. When she asked him one day, it was a Friday. The day he allowed her one question to be asked freely and openly. She had asked him why. Why did he never do such things if he had the skill the others said he had. Why did he never seek to advance his rank, to advance the house?
She simply smiled at her and told her to walk with him. He showed her the pavilions. The grand gardens. Her father took her for a boat ride, simply so they might enjoy the river. At the end of the day, he took her past the farmlands, past the mills, the artisan’s market. He took her across the island. And Lan, still but a child, took it all in, gold eyes wide with fascination. She’d nearly forgotten her question until he asked if she had an answer.
“You did not wish to rule?” He had laughed at her answer, shaking his head as he took her back inside.
“I do not seek to rule because I know I am unfit to rule. My heart was made to be soft, to be kindly, it was not the heart of a leader. When I was a boy and saw my elder brothers fighting each other I wanted none of it. I wished only for peace among us. My eldest brother, now our emperor, rules Lan. He rules everything you saw today. All we have is thanks to him. He rules and he rules well. I respected him as I grew up, supported him. I would die for him. For emperor he might be, he is still my brother, and my heart sees that. This is why I do not seek to rise. I am a man ruled by my heart. I cannot do what he does. One day, you might understand.”
Years later and she understood only fragments. She knew no brothers. She never knew sisters. Sometimes she wondered why. She didn’t grasp the concept of siblings. She had none. She’d been told once she would have, but in the end such things were not meant to be. She was the golden child, all they needed. Yet she never could understand her father. Did loving your sibling make you weak? Were you not supposed to love them? Or were you supposed to hate them? Did you love them yet wish to overthrow them? Did her cousins know these answers? They never told her. And the one who remained wasn’t likely to tell her if she asked. He had more important matters.
Lan sighed, looking back to the book on her desk. She had been foolish. She had shamed, no, she had humiliated herself. In public no less. Her cousin- no, her heir’s- chiding had all things considered, been gracious. He could have done far worse to her but in his own way he’d been kind to her. Kinder still, to give her a copy of something to teach her perhaps the error of her ways. His copy no less, her quick gaze noting the various notes he’d written in the margins.
Her father had been called a fool for having a kind heart. Her actions had been what? They had been done to try and bring what? She wasn’t sure anymore. She thought about her father, and his smile. He’d been called a fool, and now his only child had acted the part. Perhaps in the end, that was her legacy.
A bloodline of fools.
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Posted: Fri Nov 30, 2012 8:38 am
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Solo
The water was scalding hot. She preferred it like that. It was just what she liked. Even in the heat of summer, she had always liked her baths scalding hot. Her maids and servants had all shown distaste for her enjoyment of the too hot water being brought in for her, but for her, it was that or she might as well have bathed in the koi pond just outside of her room, (something she had tried once. The idea had been to bathe with the koi, so beautiful in their own right. But two things had gone horribly wrong. For one thing, koi attempted to eat her fingers and toes, secondly, koi did not take well to having soap put into their pond. The next day, she’d been forced to watch her once beloved pets, now very much dead, be removed. Her mother and father had forbidden her from any new koi for a year, her pond remaining devoid of the colorful fish).
Back on the island she liked her baths hot. I meant she could soak longer in the tub, that she could relax a while longer. She’d not be bothered so long as she was bathing. After all, what was the point? If you had soap in your hair- if you had yet to wash properly, well you’d still have to remain in the water. Yet another thing she had always preferred, to bathe alone. She didn’t like how servants would wait on her hand on foot. Not for bathing. She would send them away those times. She wanted to be alone, to just have herself and her own thoughts. Back then, the sound of the water around her, the feeling of warmth, of being clean, it was her peace. She did not meditate, but it was the closest she came to it. It was her time of inner peace, when she could melt away and forget the world around her.
As she tested the water now, it was just the way she liked it. Slipping into the water, the burn on her skin made her feel awake, yet it was soothing. Familiar and comforting. Leaning back into the metal tub, she let her hair down around her, gold tresses floating like grass in a stream around her. She liked her hair when it looked like this. When it glittered so pretty under the water. She could pretend it was real spun gold, just as her mother had called it when she would brush it free from knots before putting it into some ornate headdress or new style. Her hair was gold. Blonde. She was their golden child, their fortune, she was their everything. She was their fortune because she was their only child. If she failed them or died they would have no one to pass on the bloodline, no one to carry on their legacy. She was the only child they had, the only one they could manage. Would ever be able to manage. She had wanted siblings, she had wanted them so badly.
She wanted a little brother or sister. A sister would be a friend, a confidant perhaps. Or she might be terrible but she still would have been her sister. Someone else to be tended to by the servants, to bring joy to her parents. And a son. A son was an heir. And heir to carry on a name, to keep the house in the family. A son was a father’s pride. Not a stunted little sundrop. Not little Lan, who was tiny, no matter her age, who had the horns, but the wrong colored eyes. The wrong colored hair. Hair the color of gold.
Gold, the little treasure. Little Lan, never nothing but little. Sinking into the tub she wondered if maybe she was doomed to remain as she was forever. To be so small, to be nearly runt like. In the water she didn’t feel so small. She took up most of the metal tub. Her hair wrapped around her, and as she bathed, she was able to make her hair a task, ignore the color. Ignore all the things she thought of it. How it was something that made her different.
Scrubbing her skin she wondered if maybe had she’d been born with black hair, with brown or even green or blue eyes, would things have been different? Would they have not treated her so delicately? Would they have pampered her less? Sheltered her less? Been firmer with her? Pushed her harder? Lan didn’t know. It seemed so stupid really, so vain but-
‘I love your hair Lan. Do not cut it for him. Keep it. If he cannot see how beautiful it makes you, then more is he the fool.’ His words had sounded so true.
Yet words were just words. Clean, she got out of the tub. Hair wet and clinging to her skin. Gold hair, gold eyes, and yet she still felt tarnished.
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
Crew
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
Crew
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Posted: Fri Nov 30, 2012 8:40 am
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Solo
She was just a child, not quite old enough to go the whole day without falling asleep at some part or another. No one quite expected her to stay still for hours on end, no one expected her to stay awake why he elders played a game she couldn’t even begin to fathom the rules of. Still, she was just a child, and she was expected to spend time with her father and mother, expected to appear here and there and behave herself. So long as she behaved herself, she was likely to be rewarded with sweets or some trinket or toy. It was in her best interests to behave herself.
As her father led her down the paths from her home to the one she only knew as ‘where the emperor lived and father worked sometimes’, Lan held her father’s hand, doing her best not to trip over her own two feet. Her mother had gotten a very nice new set of green and gold robes just a few days past, and apparently today would be a good day to show them off. It was really. The warm sun was shinning and only a few clouds hung in the sky. Noble women passed and smiled at her and her father. Some occasionally commenting on how pretty Lan looked or how it was nice to see him out and about.
But her father never stopped walking, only giving them perhaps a passing smile and wave, maybe a small bow of the head as he kept them moving. He told her that he had a very important meeting to keep, and that it would be unwise to arrive too early or too late. They must arrive on time, as to not be rude. He smiled at bit after he said it, mumbling something about how it would be rather annoying to arrive only to have the game canceled. Lan hardly knew what her father was talking about, but her interest perked at the mention of a game. If they were going to a game of sorts, even just to watch, it certainly would be fun, or at least in theory. Lan’s games were the games of children, minus when her father played this or that with her mother. Alas, her mother never seemed to win. ‘A peony cannot hope to rise above a tree’ is what he would tell her. Lan’s mother would sigh then smile, telling him it was not the job of the flower to rise above, only to bloom and thrive.
She and her mother were her father’s ‘dearest flowers’. He said one day if he was lucky he would have a garden. Looking back at the memory, it was a bitter thought. Her father had no garden. He only had his little delicate orchid and his peony. There would be no other seeds that would grow. Just Lan. Its had only ever been Lan. But that was not this memory. This memory had her passing down walkways far more elaborate than those of her home. She wanted to stop and stare at them, admire the way they were carved right down to each scale on the tiniest of fish. The feathers of each crane. The walls alone made her stare in wonder. Yet her father tugged her on, before they finally arrived. She remembered very little of what was said, only that the horseman was sitting, waiting, and her father seemed a bit happy yet anxious. The man wasn’t alone either. There was a boy with him. Older than Lan, but he was still a boy. He was dressed much nicer than other boys, and only when she looked at the man her father spoke to and everything he was wearing did she fully grasp who her father was talking to.
She tried to remember all the things her mother had told her, all the little lessons she had. She followed her father’s shadow, trying to follow each cue her gave though truly, she wished to hide. This was her visit to the palace proper. She was being introduced to her uncle, the emperor, and his son, her cousin. She wanted to speak, but that was rude. She would have to wait.
Her father told her that she’d get to watch a game. And as she sat down next to her father, a servant brought out what had to be the most detailed game set she’d ever seen. It was beautiful, and she remembered how her father let her in the beginning hold one of the pieces he’d ‘lost’. It was cool to the touch, a pure while marble with no flaw. She remembered how her father had smiled at her. Hold onto it, for he would need it back later perhaps. She remembered setting it in front of her as to not lose it. By the end of the match, it would be gone.
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Posted: Fri Nov 30, 2012 8:43 am
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Solo
His smile had always made her feel less worried. Back then, on her first meeting, she wanted to impress her uncle and cousin. She wanted to be like her mother. Very proper and poised and ready for anything and everything. Her mother was the Peony, her father the mighty tree that sheltered them, would keep the safe no matter what storm was to come their way. It was their life. To be proper ladies, Lan’s mother to raise her, her father to keep them safe and provide for them. A job that as far as Lan could tell, he was good at. She never went hungry, she wanted for nothing. She lived without worry that her world might one day not be their. Such thoughts were impossible thoughts, nonexistent. She would grow up, be wed, and live as she always had.
Granted, she would meet the man she was to marry, and discover that no, she did not like her fiancé, and he did not like her in the slightest. He would hate her, and in time, she would come to hate him as well. Despise him even. That one day, would come to pass. But this day was not that day. This day was the day her father sat down with the emperor and began to play a game. Silent, she sat next to her father, watching intently as the two horsemen set their pieces here and there across the board. There was meaning in each of their moves. Perhaps not a meaning she could grasp, but each decision was precise. It was done with intent and thought.
Yet it was by no means a fast game. Her father and the emperor betrayed little in their expressions, her father only pausing here and there to look down at her and smile. She couldn’t help it, when he smiled, so did she, not thinking to her lessons, only that her father seemed happy to be there with her, and for Lan that made her happy. Looking back at the memory she realized how often he had smiled at her. When he had smiled at her. His smile marked the passing of each hour. His smile was his way of keeping her awake, keeping her attention and making sure she did not fall asleep. But it was a a lost cause. She was too young to stay up forever. She did not hold herself to such a conviction. Her cousin however did. He would look tired, yet he never fell asleep at the game. He would remain awake for it’s entirety. Lan would last a while yet sooner or later, she would begin to nod off, her father’s smiles met with only dim recognition.
The first time, she remembered hearing something in the distance, the sound of a woman and her attendants. Asking about the emperor, about the heir. She said something but it sounded a world away. She hadn’t any idea who the woman was, but when she looked back at her cousin, he seemed happier somehow, more awake and alert. She wasn’t sure why but now that Lan could look back, it was likely his mother. She had come for her own reason, and Invictus had taken strength from such a small thing as the sound of her voice, just as Lan had taken strength to remain awake from her father’s smile. But time was not easy on little Lan. The bright sun was going down, and lights were going up outside. Inside, doors were being shut, lamps lit, and meals prepared. Lan wanted to eat, to ask for food, but it never came. She was not asked.
She’d been promised her candies at the end. The game had begun that morning, and it was not soon to end. Yet the lack of food only slightly bothered her. She was too tired to want. Eyes closed and the next thing she knew, there was a gentle pressure on her head, stroking her hair. Slowly she realized she had fallen asleep. That it was her father’s hand on her head. She could somewhat make out Invictus across the way, still upright, still alert and awake. Eye closed and when she opened them again, there was the clatter as pieces were moved around.
“Lan, where is the piece I gave you?” Looking to where she set it, sleepy eyes widened when she saw it was not present. But before she could even fret over her lose of the piece, he held his hand in front of her. “Be mindful Lan, each piece you hold is very precious.” She didn’t quiet grasp it, but she’d been admonished, and felt embarrassed as she looked over, the emperor and his son still present. Stilling upright she tried to rub the sleep from her eyes. But- she forgot the rest. The next thing Lan knew was that she was being carried out of the palace by her father, clinging to his robes.
“I’m sorry.” She remembered telling him. Tiny shame in her little body. He said nothing.
“I fell asleep and lost the piece.”
He waited until they were home before he answered her. ‘You did well today Lan. Perhaps we will go again.’
Another day they would. And on another day, she would stop falling asleep. Another day, she would be able to remain silent and watch her father and her uncle play, her cousin sitting across from her, understanding that there was something she simply would not grasp in those precious moments.
One day she would not attend the games, and she would miss them. Just as one day, she would miss her father’s smile.
Such days came often.
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
Crew
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
Crew
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Posted: Fri Nov 30, 2012 9:50 am
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Solo
The herbs sat in the once empty clay cup, harmless. Dried leaves, flower buds, thing and that, all would come together to sooth her aches and pains. Sure, she was not in any true pain, but her pain was pain all the same. Cold and chilled to the bone. Nothing ‘hurt’ hurt, but she loathed it so. Her feet had gotten wet from the snow, and after her last time being exposed to the stuff overly long? She was not pleased. She was not pleased at all. She did not want to end up prancing around like that again. Not now, not ever. She was just wanted to be able to go and visit someone maybe. Maybe talk a walk but no. That accursed snow blanketed the land. No place was safe really. If she wanted to go out? She’d need to touch the snow again. Walk in it again. Get cold again. Was she up to that? Hardly. She was not up to ruining her shoes or dresses like that. If she had to, she would. Or, she would try getting one of those initiates to get a sled for her and pull her to her destination. She wasn’t going to walk in snow meaning that she’d need a ride.
It was a bit demeaning really, to have a need to avoid it as she did. But last time just- all that prancing. She was a bit scared of the outfit’s effects too. She was sure the outfit had played some role in her actions that day. She feelings and how they had run wild and she’d just… she’d been an idiot to think this Christmas was in anyway good. No. It was terrible and horrible and why the halloweeners like it to some extent was beyond her. It was like a venom. Rotten. A natural opposite to what they were. FEAR and JOY… natural opposites. So why had she felt it to be.. nice? Why did she think of her time prancing about to have been fun? It was a near drug like state. Perhaps that was shat the infernal snow had in it. Some kind of drug. A drug that she was just more prone to falling under the sway of. Well, fool her once shame on you snow. Shame on you, may you know true dishonor on your house and may your ancestors know of the shame you have brought down upon them. Fool her twice? No, not happening.
As the fire at her feet burned, she checked the teapot, noting how it was just not quite ready yet. Still a while before the water would be at the right temperature. Granted, she was… boiling extra water. She was going to need a lot of tea to feel better after that short little walk she’d had. Even if it had been to get some honey, she needed it. Honey had may uses! Like.. flavoring her tea. Drizzling on apple slices. It was a thing to keep around. You just had it.
And now she was dealing with her needy actions. A just reward, cold and ruined shoes. Water taking too long to rise, and she was not looking to leave her space anytime soon. A loud sigh escaped Lan as gold eyes rolled over to the tiny box of moon cakes she had yet to finish. She secret little stash, would she be so weak as to venture out later into the snow for more when she ate those in a fit of emotional woe? Perhaps, all this damnable festive… stuff was starting to bother her. She just wanted it to be summer. Was it summer yet? She liked the warmth, the heat. She missed the pumpkin sun… if it shone now it seemed dimmer. It also had a shorting time in the sky, replaced so quickly by the moon. It was not her time of the year, not her time at all.
Another look to the water, a quick check in her cup, the herbs were untouched. Half ready, was she simply being impatient? What was the point of it all. She’d have her tea sooner or later. Sooner better than later. Actually- she set her cup down. Right water temperature be damned. She wanted her tea and she was done with her thoughts and her brooding. No one was there to judge her and if they were? Let them. She had a need and her need was for tea. Hot water filled her cup as she knew she would be forced to wait while the dried leaves and flowers gave their flavor to the water. But it would be a fast wait. Finger tapped restlessly on the table as she waited. A drop of honey. All she needed. Yes. It would be perfect.
It would be worth it she told herself. As she took a sip Lan found that yes- Tea was indeed worth it.
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Posted: Fri Nov 30, 2012 9:15 pm
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Solo
What were they doing? More importantly, why were they doing it? Going down a hill on random things… just to crash. Crash poorly. Into the snow. Laughter filled the air as Lan watched the halloweeners in the distance do something that she had not as single clue nor idea what it was called aside from stupid and foolish. Go down a hill at high speeds, aim to crash into snow or each other, (she would admit, crashing into each other had merit. Watching them fumble and fall was amusing. How could it not be?), only to climb back with their little boards and things to repeat the process all over again. Lan didn’t quite gasp the concept of it all. It was… what. Fun? How could falling into SNOW be considered fun? Oh right. It wouldn’t be. It was be terrible and no doubt the halloweeners were suffering ill effects of the accused material. It was their own fault really, not going out with proper protection. Lan?
Well silk shoes had been traded in. Boots with golden buckles, leather, few would see them under her robes, (though her poor robes she would need to have cleaned in depth. She did not trust the snow. So long as it did not touch her skin she would be safe. That was what she was telling herself at any rate. She had no idea if it was true). She was planning to avoid the snow as much as possible, boots and all. Snow was a cold, vile thing, and until it melted or was taken away, she was having none of it. Though she would admit, watching the halloweeners crash was proving to be of high entertainment value. She thought she spied a horsemen or two joining them but to Lan, why? Why bother, why care? A crash was a crash. You crashed just to go up… and crash again, and accomplish what aside from give passing horsemen and women like her something to laugh at later? Was there some kind of most crashes made prize? Were minipets involved? Were they rare minipets? She could understand if they were rare minipets. After all, rare minipets were rare, and getting them required a fair amount of effort. Like… continuous crashing. Into things. And each other. And snow.
Watching them from afar Lan looked towards the people around her. Some seemed to wanting to join in on the ‘fun’. But really what kind of thing was that? Fun. Ha, going down a hill at high speeds just to crash into something cold and wet did not seem like fun. Even if she was a child it would not. Clothing would be ruined with such use. Clothing supposedly made for it? Ha, it too was getting soaked. Snow was an evil thing. It was frozen water, and it would soak and then seep past the strange fiber barriers the halloweeners had and leave them wet. Fire born creatures- they might die out in such a manner, all this frozen water around them.
How interesting. She wondered in the fire based population did die at this sudden change of events. If they had, well, proved how well a job Halloween kept an eye on it’s people. If not- she might have been a bit disappointed. Looking back to the halloweeners crashing- Some rock golem hit a small cat like thing, sending it into the air… and then into the cold wet snow. Yet both parties seemed to delight in this fact. How was that… enjoyable? How how how? Just what was appealing? Nothing. Just-
A shake of her head she walked on, trying not to think to hard about it. All she had done watching was restate the same thing over and over. Shuffling in her boots towards the reserve she thought about her ride in the sleigh. It had been most enjoyable but then that had no crashing. There was no need to go down hills. No need to ‘take out’ other individuals in her path. It was a mode of transportation. It kept her dry and was father than walking on her own. Not to mention it was rather cute to see the boil or ghoul pull her around and get so excited for their payments. She paid them well and they provided a useful service. That was it, nothing more. She was an employer. Them a temporary employee. There was to be no crashing, no going so fast down hills that they lost control. No, Lan wanted control.
Perhaps that was why she saw no appeal to the halloweeners and their activities. It lacked control It lacked a way to shape the outcome because each outcome was essentially the same. Crashing into snow. Yes, that was logical. She did not like it because it lacked any sort of alternative.
Logical.
Or maybe she just hated snow that she’d become bias to it.
That too, was a possibility.
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
Crew
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
Crew
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Posted: Tue Dec 04, 2012 3:28 am
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Solo
It happened when it started to get colder. The gardens were usually free of chill, but as it got colder it was natural that if her few precious potted orchids were to survive they would need to be moved indoors. Along with a few other things. Lan had never really considered the siofras that hung around her flowers as ‘hers’ so much a wild minis that helpfully pollinated her flowers with their tiny paws. Occasionally they would land on her and curl up to her, but nothing quite substantial. They were for the most part wild. But when it got colder, the siofras went to where the flowers had gone- her room. She hardly could mind, especially as after the first night it had gotten rather chilly, even for her. The poor things had been curled up in a tight little ball of wings and fur, sitting next to one of her dragon snaps. The dears loathed the cold, and the further from it, the better. But once moved- it began. Every morning she would wake and feel something fly off of her chest. When she’d look, nothing would be there, and the siofras would be in their little pile, cuddled for warmth.
She had to admit, out of all the minis she’d begun to collect and were fond of… she found it a bit odd that the Siofra had one so vastly different than the other three. One was colored much like the Lotus minis she’d found, one like the myrtle, and the orchid colored minis- well, she was a fearsome horsewoman after all. But the little forget-me-not siofra was nothing like the ones that reminded her of Mengyao and Lifen. No, the forget-me-not was distinct. It was very much different. It minded the cold a bit less, and she noticed, was a bit rough towards the myrtle siofra. If she had to place it… well it was a bit odd. Three of four to conquest. One to death. She supposed that it was acceptable. Perhaps it just was that other horsemen had their own siofra, yet to be discovered. That these were created in Halloween as minis when the fear could no longer reach the isles. In any case, she approved her newly acquired minis, and set about to see they had their little garden for the winter.
Yet each night it kept happening. She’d wake, and something would flutter away. She didn’t try to catch it, for fear she’d harm their delicate wings, but… they were the only ones she had that could fly. Her makini was of course, useless. As dumb as ever. Complex instructions were just beyond a minipet’s understanding. So Lan devised a plan. Leave the siofra a little sugary snack before bed, hopefully, to keep them from bothering her while she slept. It actually worked for a time. That is, until they ate it all before she went to sleep. Then it became an issue. So she made a new plan. To wake slowly, see if she couldn’t witness her little chest sleeper. The next morning, a glimpse of dark mass, her eyes were not quick enough to adjust. The morning after, nothing. The third morning. Her eyes opening slowly, they met the tiny reds to the forget-me-not who quickly flew back to the cuddle pile.
In that moment, lan wasn’t sure what to think. If the siofra came from a bit of extra fear from the human world, and the minis who shared clan likeness did such things- Lan wasn’t stupid. The likeness didn’t end with appearances. The minis also shared bits of personality, traits, qualities. So why the forget-me-not was sleeping on her chest had her slightly confused. Either A- Soren had misled her, (highly unlikely), or B-Soren was more crude than she’d thought, (possible), Of finally C- the mini that shared his likeness was just… special. Lan disliked not knowing. She disliked not having a concrete answer. And the only way to get one?
Asking. It would be simple enough, she’d ask under the pretense that she wanted his opinion of what were desirable traits in a horsewoman. After all, she’d hardly made it a secret that she’d begun to seek out ways of self improvement. When Lan finally went to him to ask his first question had been why didn’t she go to those of her clan. Her answer had been a bland, ‘Out of my male associates, I could ask Mengyao, Zhi, Tseng, Xiong, and Invictus.’ Soren accepted it as a fair answer. But when he gave her the answer to her question?
He looked at her chest for a moment, then down, then up back to her face. ‘Good in battle, level headed,….’ He gave her an honest to god list. Part of her actually rather found his opinion rather interesting, another part of her wanted to hit him for the jab of ‘controls temper even if clothing ruined’.
It did answer her question as to why the mini kept attempting to sleep on her chest however. A small cage bought, she present it to the siofras that same day, who hardly seemed to mind. In Lan’s opinion, so long as she stopped waking up to her chest guest, she’d happily spend a little extra to keep the minis locked up.
At least until spring.
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Posted: Tue Dec 04, 2012 9:15 am
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Solo
Invited back to the palace. Her mother and father were to have very important plans to discuss. They didn’t tell her who, but Lan assumed it would be very important, because her mother was wearing her coral beads she so loved. Her mother only wore them for really special events. Coral beads and the red carved peony in her hair, the one that father had given her before they had been married. She was fancy, very dressed up. Court was after all, a time when they had to dress to impress, to uphold tradition and the various ways of the clan. So her mother put on her best gowns. Had her ebony hair done up in such an elaborate way that Lan wondered sometimes if it would ever come undone. But at the end of the day it did. Her father would fuss and her mother would yield.
The day was going to be spent at the palace. Where in the palace she didn’t know, nor, did Lan know what was it exactly she would be doing. She assumed she’d be set with some of the other children. Maybe they would color or draw. Maybe they would be given a lesson. She hoped it wasn’t a lesson. Or if it was, it was a lesson in music or flowers. She always loved the lessons on flowers and their meanings. And with the palace gardens, she couldn’t help but imagine the variety of flowers they would have! Maybe they would take her one a tour, show her how pretty they flowers could be during this season, test her on what she knew, teach her what she didn’t. Lan loved flowers. Mostly the ones she was named after. Or as her father often joked, were named after her. He was a funny man sometimes, her father. Still Lan hoped if she had a lesson it would be something she liked. Not something like… tactics. Or farming practices. She didn’t like those lessons. They bored her. They didn’t make sense to her either. Why go around a river if you could just go through it? If the other side used it as a water source why not just poison it? She failed to grasp tactics. She really did.
Still it would not be lessons that Lan would partake in. It would be no games with other children. At least no children her own age. ‘Children’ was a bit subjective for horsemen. They grew differently than halloweeners. Yet once grown- they were killers. Perfection. Honed weapons all, each one for the betterment of the clan. Horsemen also did not breed well. Low fertility as human simply had begun to not believe. But when Lan was a child fear still thrived. There was still a respect for the old way. For the fear of the end, the fear that the world really was such a fragile place, at the whim of gods. Or as time would press on, at the whim of one god. The sun and stars would ever hold sway, but the minds of men were changing things. And so there were always whispers. That humans would stop fearing. Rumors that they already had begun to do so. Rumors that people like her father would go about attempting to quell. One day he’d silence them he said. After all, humans feared. They would always fear the end and so long as they feared the end? The horsemen would survive. Odd, that looking back Lan would realize how simply right her father was.
So long as humans feared, horsemen would never die. They might suffer losses, they might struggle, they might spend generations needing to reform rank and numbers. But they would never die. No so long as one human feared. So long as one human feared them, the spark of their kind would never go out.
As she was taken from her mother, little Lan was led down winding halls, gold eyes passing to the carved figures in the pillars. To the painted doorframes. To every artistic detail, noting with a tiny frown when she found some flaw. A paint chip fallen. A crack in the wood. A tear in the paper. Small things, perhaps it just took someone so small as Lan to notice them. She remembered passing by the gardens, or at least a portion of them. Gasping and asking if she might be granted a chance to visit them. A smile, she was just ushered onwards, told that they must not keep him waiting. Lad wasn’t sure who was waiting or why they waited for her. Had she’d been brought for a tutor? If so- it would be for tactics. It would always be for tactics. Yet as Lan was introduced to her destination there was to teacher to be found. Just one preteen horsemen, lips in a thin line, face impassive as ever.
Just her cousin and a set of brushes with ink.
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
Crew
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
Crew
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Posted: Tue Dec 04, 2012 9:18 am
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Solo
At the sight of Invictus, Lan was hasty. She’d last seen him at the game between their fathers. A game that she’d fallen asleep at, much to her own embarrassment. Worst still, a game where her father had admonished her for falling asleep in the middle of it, the piece from the game set he’d given her to hold onto lost right out from under her nose. She bowed but she bowed to quickly, the tiny ornaments in her hair jostled by the sudden movement. A moment of worry that her hair would come undone, that she’d embarrass herself further. Surely her cousin thought so terribly of her, that she must be so clumsy. She hoped not yet guessed it would be so, his only motion being to stop looking at her and rather letting his gaze go past her to the nice lady who had led her to the room. Though the heir said nothing, the woman bowed, backed away, shutting cousin with cousin.
Never in her life had Lan felt more terrified. She was alone with the heir, her cousin, who had seen her shame at the game their fathers held. The one who had managed to stay awake where as she’d been so quick to fall asleep. Waiting. She waited for him to let her come closer. She didn’t know it then, but looking back, he’d tilted his head a certain way, a silent invitation to join him. But in her youth she hadn’t known. She was not yet a master of the silent language of often utilized in the court. A language that now with the Lost Clans, would be to her, Mengyao, and Invictus to preserve the more deeper intricacies of. A language that slowly, was being picked up by those who were not imperial. Who were of the ‘lower casts’. But even now that was questionable.
Invictus still held his place but her and Mengyao… they were more or less lost to the tides of change. Their places altered and perhaps while Mengyao seemed comfortable, (when did her never not), Lan was very must lost. As lost as she’d been when she was a chile, stared down by her cousin who’s gaze went back to her, waiting, expectant. It wasn’t until he motioned with his hand to come and sit across from him that Lan got up to do so. She hadn’t seen the various colored inks from afar, the brushes and water. She’d only seen bits from afar but once up close, she looked to him, trying to find some kind of answer to her silent question of what she was to do.
She hadn’t any idea. After all, she just knew him and the heir. She’d only met him once before. She knew so little of him, and only knew that she must have her manners. “I will be watching over you for today.” Gold eyes went to his own. They were not two colors back then. Back then they were but a single color. It was strange to see them that way, even if it was only a memory. Now, to think back on and remember a time when his eyes were just one- it seemed wrong almost. She remembered the way she stared at him, wondering how come her stared back so intensely. She shuffled, unsure, looking down to the inks, to the brushes and the lose papers. It was all for her apparently. A small confused look.
“But don’t you want to paint as well?” He blinked, looked down at her, then at the papers.
“No.”
“Oh.” She picked up a brush and took a deep breath. She wanted to impress him with her skills. To make an impressive picture for him. Maybe get a smile from him. A foolish thought, that he would let such a thing as a smile grace his features for her back then. But she’d been a child. A newly introduced cousin wanting to impress her relative. More than that, impress her heir. Slowly, young Lan began a series of brush strokes, working on what could only be described as a crude painting now by her own standards. “It’s the palace.” She remembered explaining to him. She hadn’t colored it. But- She remembered the portrait she did of him. How she leaned over it, whispering at him not to peek while he worked on it. How he’d leaned back, letting her work. When done she’d present it to him, the scowl on her picture just as apparent as the one on his face. Still, she felt happy when he accepted it, smiling at him, so happy to know he’d accepted her gift.
He probably got them all the time from his other visits with his cousins. His half siblings. Yet it was still a nice memory. To know that he’d still accepted a child’s gift, even if it was so mundane.
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