Lan Min is bright and clever, born under the hands of a swamp-witch whose people sheltered the battered Fire Nation ship and its crew from the storm. She is strong and well-favored, and all the court takes delight in her cheer and rapid progress under fine tutors.
Little Lu-Ten is not strong. Born in the height of the typhoon, only Uncle's breath kept him alive until they crashed into the mangrove swamp and limped into the shallows. He is not- simple. But he does not speak often, for all he speaks well, and the court has focused their attention on his brightly-shining sister, leaving him to the shadow path. Born at a bad hour. First, but last. Can't keep up.
Zura finds her heart hurts when she looks at him, the extremity of her own slights as a child. When she first notices how the favor of the lords and ladies slide, she watches, fearful, for the signs of her life repeating itself amongst her children. Even when her father and her brother are locked away, one oozing venom and the other spewing brimstone, she cannot still the rabbit-mouse in her heart, thrumming with unspoken fears.
Their trail is a slimy, poisonous thing, and it lingers in their wake, in the attitudes of the courtiers, long after the official policies have come undone.
She comes upon a scene one day, shedding royal robes and heavy crown to head to the courtyard where the noble children have been playing, while their parents spar at verbal war. Lu Ten is crying, angry through the tears, and another boy is on the ground with the imprint of Lan Min's fist in his eye.
"Don't touch my brother!"
The young boy (admiral's child, third rank, mother's side is a removed cousin) quails before the wrath of the princess. The other children make that ooooh sound, when they know someone is in trouble.
It goes silent when they see their monarch's silhouette in the door.
Zura sweeps up her children from where they are embroiled and takes them off. As she reviews what she's going to say (No hitting, you are royals, not bullies, and she's been working hard to make that distinction stick), Lu Ten is glaring and Lan Min is protesting.
"He was sayin'-!"
"-don't need her to-!"
"Hush."
It takes a second, firmer warning to finally get them to quiet, but not before Lan Min says something that warms her heart, even as she metes out discipline for its consequences.
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timeasmymeasure
Twins.
Date: 2010-10-29 08:28 pm (UTC)Little Lu-Ten is not strong. Born in the height of the typhoon, only Uncle's breath kept him alive until they crashed into the mangrove swamp and limped into the shallows. He is not- simple. But he does not speak often, for all he speaks well, and the court has focused their attention on his brightly-shining sister, leaving him to the shadow path. Born at a bad hour. First, but last. Can't keep up.
Zura finds her heart hurts when she looks at him, the extremity of her own slights as a child. When she first notices how the favor of the lords and ladies slide, she watches, fearful, for the signs of her life repeating itself amongst her children. Even when her father and her brother are locked away, one oozing venom and the other spewing brimstone, she cannot still the rabbit-mouse in her heart, thrumming with unspoken fears.
Their trail is a slimy, poisonous thing, and it lingers in their wake, in the attitudes of the courtiers, long after the official policies have come undone.
She comes upon a scene one day, shedding royal robes and heavy crown to head to the courtyard where the noble children have been playing, while their parents spar at verbal war. Lu Ten is crying, angry through the tears, and another boy is on the ground with the imprint of Lan Min's fist in his eye.
"Don't touch my brother!"
The young boy (admiral's child, third rank, mother's side is a removed cousin) quails before the wrath of the princess. The other children make that ooooh sound, when they know someone is in trouble.
It goes silent when they see their monarch's silhouette in the door.
Zura sweeps up her children from where they are embroiled and takes them off. As she reviews what she's going to say (No hitting, you are royals, not bullies, and she's been working hard to make that distinction stick), Lu Ten is glaring and Lan Min is protesting.
"He was sayin'-!"
"-don't need her to-!"
"Hush."
It takes a second, firmer warning to finally get them to quiet, but not before Lan Min says something that warms her heart, even as she metes out discipline for its consequences.
"...nobody says that to my brother..."