![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Last-Born
Story: Last-Born
Characters: Andrell, Deva, Sola, Keta, Kellom, Mellir, Tana
Warnings: References to character/familial death, references to war, oblique references to torture/genocide.
Deva
Then
It took Andrell a long time to realize that the serious, golden woman who hovered in his mother's shadow was another sister--she was so much older than he, and Mera made much more sense as a sibling.
Now
Deva is his staunch supporter, always behind him politically 100%, but there's something quiet and lost in her now, since she no longer has her war to fight--just like when he was a child, Deva is somewhere a world away, barely seeming like his sister at all.
Sola
Then
Andrell always thought his second sister seemed much closer to him than the other big girls; she was airy and bright and somehow gave the impression of being much younger than she actually was.
Now
Sola is still airy and bright, still does her best to be bright and youthful and easy to underestimate, but, now that he's an adult and interacting with her on a more-or-less equal basis (rank and age aside), he knows damn well what's lurking beneath her shallow exterior.
Keta
Then
For Andrell, his third sister was always the first who felt real to him--she was the one who read him stories when he had bad dreams, she was the one who didn't quite fit with the rest of the court, or with their parents, or really with any of the others; even though they were never close, when he thought about his sisters, she was always the first who came to mind.
Now
Keta is his greatest regret--that, maybe because they were never close, despite all her bedtime stories, she was afraid enough of him to run.
Kellom
Then
His oldest brother was like a god to Andrell, the way only a much-older, much-more-talented sibling of the same gender can be; when he was little, all Andrell wanted was to be him.
Now
Kellom lies in state, waiting for the funeral--he needs to give his oldest brother, his childhood hero, this much--and he knows, he knows that the brother he worshipped is not the brother he is about to bury, not really, but he can still see him there, in Kellom's almost-sleeping face.
Mellir
Then
Andrell's first impression of his second brother was that he was fun--he was always ready with a joke, or a hair-raising tale that couldn't possibly be true, except his brother, for all his (many, many) sins, never lied.
Now
Mellir seems so much smaller in death--he barely recognizes the wild, half-desperate joy his brother dragged out of every instant in this empty stranger, who's been stripped of all his qualities save, perhaps, his honesty.
Tana
Then
Andrell never liked the last of his sisters--they never played together unless she could control the games, and she was never really interested in him anyway--and most of his memories were...well, charitably put, exciting, but that didn't mean good.
Now
He understands Tana better now, he thinks--while he still can't quite think of her fondly, he understands her passion now, understands why people might be drawn to her, and he is grateful that she fled, and he doesn't have to punish her for her crimes.
All
Then
Andrell was the youngest of ten born, but three of his siblings had died before he was even born--the others all shaped him, each in their own way; he was the baby of the family, separated from the closest sibling by a full seven years, and so knew them in ways no one else could.
Now
He can see bits and pieces of each of his siblings in himself--Deva's dedication to principle, Sola's cultivated charm, Keta's quiet observation, Kellom's sense of duty, Mellir's desperate longing, and even Tana's passionate faith; he knows he would never have become the man he is without each of them, and, even though he might not always love them, he will always, always be grateful.
Characters: Andrell, Deva, Sola, Keta, Kellom, Mellir, Tana
Warnings: References to character/familial death, references to war, oblique references to torture/genocide.
Deva
Then
It took Andrell a long time to realize that the serious, golden woman who hovered in his mother's shadow was another sister--she was so much older than he, and Mera made much more sense as a sibling.
Now
Deva is his staunch supporter, always behind him politically 100%, but there's something quiet and lost in her now, since she no longer has her war to fight--just like when he was a child, Deva is somewhere a world away, barely seeming like his sister at all.
Sola
Then
Andrell always thought his second sister seemed much closer to him than the other big girls; she was airy and bright and somehow gave the impression of being much younger than she actually was.
Now
Sola is still airy and bright, still does her best to be bright and youthful and easy to underestimate, but, now that he's an adult and interacting with her on a more-or-less equal basis (rank and age aside), he knows damn well what's lurking beneath her shallow exterior.
Keta
Then
For Andrell, his third sister was always the first who felt real to him--she was the one who read him stories when he had bad dreams, she was the one who didn't quite fit with the rest of the court, or with their parents, or really with any of the others; even though they were never close, when he thought about his sisters, she was always the first who came to mind.
Now
Keta is his greatest regret--that, maybe because they were never close, despite all her bedtime stories, she was afraid enough of him to run.
Kellom
Then
His oldest brother was like a god to Andrell, the way only a much-older, much-more-talented sibling of the same gender can be; when he was little, all Andrell wanted was to be him.
Now
Kellom lies in state, waiting for the funeral--he needs to give his oldest brother, his childhood hero, this much--and he knows, he knows that the brother he worshipped is not the brother he is about to bury, not really, but he can still see him there, in Kellom's almost-sleeping face.
Mellir
Then
Andrell's first impression of his second brother was that he was fun--he was always ready with a joke, or a hair-raising tale that couldn't possibly be true, except his brother, for all his (many, many) sins, never lied.
Now
Mellir seems so much smaller in death--he barely recognizes the wild, half-desperate joy his brother dragged out of every instant in this empty stranger, who's been stripped of all his qualities save, perhaps, his honesty.
Tana
Then
Andrell never liked the last of his sisters--they never played together unless she could control the games, and she was never really interested in him anyway--and most of his memories were...well, charitably put, exciting, but that didn't mean good.
Now
He understands Tana better now, he thinks--while he still can't quite think of her fondly, he understands her passion now, understands why people might be drawn to her, and he is grateful that she fled, and he doesn't have to punish her for her crimes.
All
Then
Andrell was the youngest of ten born, but three of his siblings had died before he was even born--the others all shaped him, each in their own way; he was the baby of the family, separated from the closest sibling by a full seven years, and so knew them in ways no one else could.
Now
He can see bits and pieces of each of his siblings in himself--Deva's dedication to principle, Sola's cultivated charm, Keta's quiet observation, Kellom's sense of duty, Mellir's desperate longing, and even Tana's passionate faith; he knows he would never have become the man he is without each of them, and, even though he might not always love them, he will always, always be grateful.