T_M: Talk about something you inherited.
Title: Never Enough
Fandom: Starlight and Shadows, by Elaine Cunningham
Characters: Liriel Baenre
Prompt: "Talk about something you inherited. "; [info]theatrical_muse
Word Count: 366
Rating: G
Summary: To inherit beauty...
A/N: Minor spoilers for the Starlight and Shadows trilogy.
I have been told that I inherited my mother's beauty, and, to be honest, it is true. By the time I was forty the shifting illusion in the Baenre throne room was alike enough to me that, if it were not of gigantic size and constantly shifting to the visage of a spider, I could have easily mistaken it for a mirror.
Though perhaps I am not being quite truthful. The illusion has the red eyes of my mother, and I have the amber eyes of my father. At least, the drow who passed as my father while I was young and did not know that true fathers acted any differently from my own. There is also an elegance in that illusion (and, though perhaps I only imagine it, in my memory) that I have never had; I am graceful, certainly: I am a dancer, a wizard, and in my own way a fighter. Yet she has a presence that I lack, a way that I am certain would stop every breath in the room if she moved, even just enough to brush back her hair or fetch a cup of wine from the table beside her.
What I remember of her is faint, just little snatches of strangely warm scenes: of sitting by her feet as she sat, speaking to someone beyond my vision, the white hem of her dress pooling around my small form. Of her holding me (a difficult task, for I was always wriggling with excitement) as she made her last journey, perched on top of a floating disk that took us both to Gromph's study. Now I look back and always wonder what she looked like when she smiled, for I can never remember her face; it just melds into mine in the mirror, and any smile I try that might look like hers seems clumsy and ugly on my face.
I wonder if, one day, I will ever match up to her. Yet I doubt age will ever mellow me enough, for I am an adventuring rebel at heart, and she was a noble lady. I only hope I will not forever feel a bit inadequate because of it.
Fandom: Starlight and Shadows, by Elaine Cunningham
Characters: Liriel Baenre
Prompt: "Talk about something you inherited. "; [info]theatrical_muse
Word Count: 366
Rating: G
Summary: To inherit beauty...
A/N: Minor spoilers for the Starlight and Shadows trilogy.
I have been told that I inherited my mother's beauty, and, to be honest, it is true. By the time I was forty the shifting illusion in the Baenre throne room was alike enough to me that, if it were not of gigantic size and constantly shifting to the visage of a spider, I could have easily mistaken it for a mirror.
Though perhaps I am not being quite truthful. The illusion has the red eyes of my mother, and I have the amber eyes of my father. At least, the drow who passed as my father while I was young and did not know that true fathers acted any differently from my own. There is also an elegance in that illusion (and, though perhaps I only imagine it, in my memory) that I have never had; I am graceful, certainly: I am a dancer, a wizard, and in my own way a fighter. Yet she has a presence that I lack, a way that I am certain would stop every breath in the room if she moved, even just enough to brush back her hair or fetch a cup of wine from the table beside her.
What I remember of her is faint, just little snatches of strangely warm scenes: of sitting by her feet as she sat, speaking to someone beyond my vision, the white hem of her dress pooling around my small form. Of her holding me (a difficult task, for I was always wriggling with excitement) as she made her last journey, perched on top of a floating disk that took us both to Gromph's study. Now I look back and always wonder what she looked like when she smiled, for I can never remember her face; it just melds into mine in the mirror, and any smile I try that might look like hers seems clumsy and ugly on my face.
I wonder if, one day, I will ever match up to her. Yet I doubt age will ever mellow me enough, for I am an adventuring rebel at heart, and she was a noble lady. I only hope I will not forever feel a bit inadequate because of it.