Challenge [245]: Sowing
Nov. 13th, 2010 12:12 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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kh_drabbleChallenge: [245] Radiant Garden
Title: Sowing
Word Count: 475
Notes: Possible minor BBS spoilers.
Summary: Because legacies don't always go to plan, and the heart is unpredictable.
He was barely thirty when she died. It was almost too cruel, really- there he was one day holding her hand, eagerly awaiting this next phase in their lives together; and the next, alone, numb, with neither her voice nor the never-heard baby’s cries to rouse him from his thoughts.
He dealt with it as he did all things: practically, rationally. He missed her smile, so he set about making others smile instead; he missed her laughter, so he made others laugh in her place. He remembered all the things she’d wondered about- how the world worked, how people worked- and so threw himself into his research in the hopes that the great discoveries he would no doubt make would give her death some kind of meaning. He strove to make their world the paradise they’d always spoken of, dreamed about. He succeeded.
A year passed, three years, five, ten; the pain dulled and loneliness took its place. The castle seemed too big, too empty, and he found himself wondering what it would have been like with a child there, a son to follow in his footsteps. Even if he couldn’t have her any more, he wished that there were someone there he could teach, care for, love as his own.
It was about this time he heard about Ienzo. The idea seemed perfect from the very beginning; seeing him for the first time only cemented that.
The boy was quiet, sensible, and fitted seamlessly into the well-ordered routine that he had constructed for himself over the years. He was mature beyond his years and understood that he couldn’t expect attention all the time; that sometimes, he would have to rely on the other apprentices for instruction. He was intelligent and eager to learn, retaining all that he was taught and all that he learned for himself. He never seemed happier than when he was reading, and so the silently studious atmosphere of the castle continued uninterrupted, almost as if the boy’s arrival had never happened.
In short, he was the perfect son that Ansem had always dreamed of.
And when they sat together by the fire each evening, he would smile down at the boy and feel an overwhelming sense of pride; pride that there was someone he could rely on to care for all that he’d built after he was gone. He would watch him as he sat making notes from whichever great thick tome he’d pulled from the library today and feel wonder at the idea that the seeds of knowledge he could see being planted every day, even right now in front of him, would one day bloom into something beautiful that the whole world would benefit from.
He didn’t count on those seeds blooming sooner rather than later; or that when they did, there would be no flowers, only thorns.
Title: Sowing
Word Count: 475
Notes: Possible minor BBS spoilers.
Summary: Because legacies don't always go to plan, and the heart is unpredictable.
He was barely thirty when she died. It was almost too cruel, really- there he was one day holding her hand, eagerly awaiting this next phase in their lives together; and the next, alone, numb, with neither her voice nor the never-heard baby’s cries to rouse him from his thoughts.
He dealt with it as he did all things: practically, rationally. He missed her smile, so he set about making others smile instead; he missed her laughter, so he made others laugh in her place. He remembered all the things she’d wondered about- how the world worked, how people worked- and so threw himself into his research in the hopes that the great discoveries he would no doubt make would give her death some kind of meaning. He strove to make their world the paradise they’d always spoken of, dreamed about. He succeeded.
A year passed, three years, five, ten; the pain dulled and loneliness took its place. The castle seemed too big, too empty, and he found himself wondering what it would have been like with a child there, a son to follow in his footsteps. Even if he couldn’t have her any more, he wished that there were someone there he could teach, care for, love as his own.
It was about this time he heard about Ienzo. The idea seemed perfect from the very beginning; seeing him for the first time only cemented that.
The boy was quiet, sensible, and fitted seamlessly into the well-ordered routine that he had constructed for himself over the years. He was mature beyond his years and understood that he couldn’t expect attention all the time; that sometimes, he would have to rely on the other apprentices for instruction. He was intelligent and eager to learn, retaining all that he was taught and all that he learned for himself. He never seemed happier than when he was reading, and so the silently studious atmosphere of the castle continued uninterrupted, almost as if the boy’s arrival had never happened.
In short, he was the perfect son that Ansem had always dreamed of.
And when they sat together by the fire each evening, he would smile down at the boy and feel an overwhelming sense of pride; pride that there was someone he could rely on to care for all that he’d built after he was gone. He would watch him as he sat making notes from whichever great thick tome he’d pulled from the library today and feel wonder at the idea that the seeds of knowledge he could see being planted every day, even right now in front of him, would one day bloom into something beautiful that the whole world would benefit from.
He didn’t count on those seeds blooming sooner rather than later; or that when they did, there would be no flowers, only thorns.
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Date: 2010-11-13 05:50 pm (UTC)In short, fantastic job.
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Date: 2010-11-14 09:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-15 01:05 am (UTC)