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Entry tags:
Time and Time Again
Story: Time and Time Again
Year: 989 FY
Characters: Mellir
Warnings: Implied alcoholism, reference to genocide, reference to adultery, impending attempted fratricide and character death.
In all honesty, Mellir has a good life. He has friends he can do wildly entertaining (and sometimes inappropriate) things with. He is a prince, with great wealth and power at his command--though he seems the least of his siblings. He has no difficulty in charming women, and if the relationships usually don't last, they usually end amicably. He has an ever-growing brood of children--if his wife died before she could provide him with any legitimate ones, well, he still has his bastards, and they love him and he adores them.
It just seems...like he's trapped, a dog chasing his own tail, in endless repetition of an impossible task. Time and time again, he meets and makes friends--men and women, drinking companions and lovers, playing ever-more-daring games. And time and time again, the relationships crash and burn--or he has to extricate himself when something truly unconscionable has been done. Not by him, never by him; he probably has Keta and his children to thank for that.
Time and time again, people move in and out of his life for a few months to a year or two of happiness and exhilaration. Time and time again, he realizes he's done nothing in his life worthy of true love or respect (except, perhaps, his children; they're the best of his life). Time and time again, he resolves that next time will be different, next time he won't be dragged down into that same cycle of spectacular catastrophe, he'll finally make something of himself, be worthy of his children and Keta's unwavering affection. Time and time again, he reaches the bottom and swears to climb up.
Time and time again, he crashes, and burns, and winds up like a dog in the street, chasing its own tail.
But now...if he can do this, if he can be King, if he can bring his people out of the rioting chaos his brother--with all his respectability and eternally pure intentions--wrought...
Mellir smiles at his knife.
This time will be different.
Year: 989 FY
Characters: Mellir
Warnings: Implied alcoholism, reference to genocide, reference to adultery, impending attempted fratricide and character death.
In all honesty, Mellir has a good life. He has friends he can do wildly entertaining (and sometimes inappropriate) things with. He is a prince, with great wealth and power at his command--though he seems the least of his siblings. He has no difficulty in charming women, and if the relationships usually don't last, they usually end amicably. He has an ever-growing brood of children--if his wife died before she could provide him with any legitimate ones, well, he still has his bastards, and they love him and he adores them.
It just seems...like he's trapped, a dog chasing his own tail, in endless repetition of an impossible task. Time and time again, he meets and makes friends--men and women, drinking companions and lovers, playing ever-more-daring games. And time and time again, the relationships crash and burn--or he has to extricate himself when something truly unconscionable has been done. Not by him, never by him; he probably has Keta and his children to thank for that.
Time and time again, people move in and out of his life for a few months to a year or two of happiness and exhilaration. Time and time again, he realizes he's done nothing in his life worthy of true love or respect (except, perhaps, his children; they're the best of his life). Time and time again, he resolves that next time will be different, next time he won't be dragged down into that same cycle of spectacular catastrophe, he'll finally make something of himself, be worthy of his children and Keta's unwavering affection. Time and time again, he reaches the bottom and swears to climb up.
Time and time again, he crashes, and burns, and winds up like a dog in the street, chasing its own tail.
But now...if he can do this, if he can be King, if he can bring his people out of the rioting chaos his brother--with all his respectability and eternally pure intentions--wrought...
Mellir smiles at his knife.
This time will be different.