kawa~ inspiration #53
May. 4th, 2005 11:23 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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yrae
Title~ Guilty
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ All three of 'em are mine~
Notes~ kawa~ inspiration 53. Because damnit it's the only family I've got in this story that has more than one generation still living, and has all the members of it named. Even if one of them is dead. Feh.
~ ~ ~
It was predictably silent in the cliff-top cemetery, with only the persistent desert wind ruffling clothes and hushing through the grasses breaking any chance of absolute silence. It blew sand in willie-willies and smaller dust devils as though confirming Aeia’s stranglehold on the place; by contrast, the Ra-Lin in the gorge below never uttered a sound.
For most, the silence of the cemetery was respectful, thoughtful, morose… for Nol, it was always uncomfortable. He never knew how he should feel when he and Mithé visited Alurié’s grave, but he was certain uncomfortable wasn’t it. Alurié was too many people to him to be able to attach one feeling. She was his mother, Raykin’s former queen, Mithé’s predecessor, the woman he’d indirectly killed, and from what other people had told him, she was a bit of a bitch.
First and foremost, she had been Raykin’s queen, and apparently not a very promising one at that. He could never think of her as a mother, just another dead ancestor in the long line of Raykinian rulers. He never knew her beyond what everyone else had told him, and in all honesty, Mithé was the only one to ever say any kind words about her. She’d ruled for such a short time, and more than two decades ago now, that most had forgotten any details of her reign beyond the fact they were glad when it had ended prematurely.
Knowing this, the prince wasn’t unwilling to admit that he didn’t mind so much that he’d never had the chance to properly meet her. Out here though, with her bones buried beneath his feet and her husband standing in mournful, respectful silence beside him, he couldn’t help the pang of guilt that struck him. She was his mother, after all, and he had never shed a tear over her death, or even missed her, not once.
“Am I supposed to feel sad?” The question always came up in his mind when he and Mithé rode out here, but never verbally.
The king made no reaction, spoken or otherwise. His eyes remained closed, head bowed towards his wife’s grave. Nol couldn’t be sure if he’d even heard, or if indeed the words had been spoken or if they’d never actually left his mind.
“All I ever feel is guilt.”
Mithé’s eyes opened to slits, though in an attempt to keep the sand and sun from them rather than in contempt. “You needn’t feel guilty, Nolryn. You didn’t cause her death.”
Nol shook his head. “No, that’s not it. I don’t think. I’m guilty because I can never feel sad that she’s dead. I just never knew her beyond what everyone else says, so I can’t feel sad.”
The king nodded slowly as though thinking this over, but his expression never changed. “Would you rather we didn’t come here anymore?” There was no disgusted or patronising tone to his voice, merely an honest question.
“I think so, yes. Sorry, Majesty.”
“Don’t be. You shouldn’t be forced to grieve for someone you never had the chance to know.”
The prince smiled briefly. “Thank you, Majesty.”
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ All three of 'em are mine~
Notes~ kawa~ inspiration 53. Because damnit it's the only family I've got in this story that has more than one generation still living, and has all the members of it named. Even if one of them is dead. Feh.
It was predictably silent in the cliff-top cemetery, with only the persistent desert wind ruffling clothes and hushing through the grasses breaking any chance of absolute silence. It blew sand in willie-willies and smaller dust devils as though confirming Aeia’s stranglehold on the place; by contrast, the Ra-Lin in the gorge below never uttered a sound.
For most, the silence of the cemetery was respectful, thoughtful, morose… for Nol, it was always uncomfortable. He never knew how he should feel when he and Mithé visited Alurié’s grave, but he was certain uncomfortable wasn’t it. Alurié was too many people to him to be able to attach one feeling. She was his mother, Raykin’s former queen, Mithé’s predecessor, the woman he’d indirectly killed, and from what other people had told him, she was a bit of a bitch.
First and foremost, she had been Raykin’s queen, and apparently not a very promising one at that. He could never think of her as a mother, just another dead ancestor in the long line of Raykinian rulers. He never knew her beyond what everyone else had told him, and in all honesty, Mithé was the only one to ever say any kind words about her. She’d ruled for such a short time, and more than two decades ago now, that most had forgotten any details of her reign beyond the fact they were glad when it had ended prematurely.
Knowing this, the prince wasn’t unwilling to admit that he didn’t mind so much that he’d never had the chance to properly meet her. Out here though, with her bones buried beneath his feet and her husband standing in mournful, respectful silence beside him, he couldn’t help the pang of guilt that struck him. She was his mother, after all, and he had never shed a tear over her death, or even missed her, not once.
“Am I supposed to feel sad?” The question always came up in his mind when he and Mithé rode out here, but never verbally.
The king made no reaction, spoken or otherwise. His eyes remained closed, head bowed towards his wife’s grave. Nol couldn’t be sure if he’d even heard, or if indeed the words had been spoken or if they’d never actually left his mind.
“All I ever feel is guilt.”
Mithé’s eyes opened to slits, though in an attempt to keep the sand and sun from them rather than in contempt. “You needn’t feel guilty, Nolryn. You didn’t cause her death.”
Nol shook his head. “No, that’s not it. I don’t think. I’m guilty because I can never feel sad that she’s dead. I just never knew her beyond what everyone else says, so I can’t feel sad.”
The king nodded slowly as though thinking this over, but his expression never changed. “Would you rather we didn’t come here anymore?” There was no disgusted or patronising tone to his voice, merely an honest question.
“I think so, yes. Sorry, Majesty.”
“Don’t be. You shouldn’t be forced to grieve for someone you never had the chance to know.”
The prince smiled briefly. “Thank you, Majesty.”
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Date: 2005-05-04 07:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-04 07:22 am (UTC)