HASTUR LORD snippet/scene #2
Sep. 14th, 2009 11:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
deborahjrossHere's more, from a little later. I'll post a third in a day or two.
I could use some feedback on which would work best for my website. Is there one you preferred, one that left you particularly eager to read the book?
&&&
Regis found a chair and drew it up near his grandfather's head. His mind had gone blank, as it had when he was a boy called to account by this stern, disapproving old man.
Moments slipped by, marked by the halting rise and fall of the old man's chest. With his psychic barriers down, Regis felt Danilo's steady presence. Danilo believed in him, believed that he could rise above the past. Therefore, Regis must find a way to see the best in this old man, as he had in so many others.
One of Danvan's hands lay on top of the covers. The fingers, with their arthritic joints, quivered like the wings of a misshapen bird. On impulse, Regis grasped the hand. Its lightness surprised him, the softness of the paper-thin skin, the frailness of the bones.
"Grandfather . . ." He could not force the words through his lips, even if he knew what to say.
Grandfather, there's so much I never told you . . .
Tears stung his eyes, but Regis refused to look away. He focused on the pale blue irises that glimmered between crepey lids.
See me, hear me. Forgive me.
"I know I often disappointed you," Regis said aloud. "I couldn't live up to my father's reputation --" which grew in glory with each retelling, and which you never let me forget. "I couldn't be the King you so fiercely wanted me to be. I'm sorry if I let you down."
Regis paused, unable to overcome the resentments that surged within him. Certainly, he admired his grandfather, for who of the Comyn did not, even when they disagreed with him? Part of him still craved the old man's approval, although he knew he would never have it. Nothing he did would ever be good enough, nor any sacrifice of his dreams ever great enough.
He had run out of time. Unless he spoke now, he might never have another chance to set aside the old rancor, to summon all his compassion, to send his grandfather to whatever came beyond life with a clear conscience.
"Grandfather . . ."
Suddenly, the blue eyes cleared and the withered mouth moved silently. Regis tensed and bony fingers closed around his own with desperate, brittle strength. Regis . . .
Regis gasped, taken by surprise. Danvan Hastur, for all his force of will and personality, and his extraordinary statesmanship, had very little of the laran that characterized the Comyn. He had been able to lead the Domains for three generations by diplomacy, wily cunning, and reasoned argumentation. For him to now speak mind-to-mind required almost superhuman effort.
Regis . . .
Grandfather, I am here.
I . . . am dying . . . have . . . very little time . . .
One mind, linked directly to another, could not lie about a matter of such importance.
. . secret I have carried . . . these many years . . . your brother . . . you have a brother . . .
Regis startled, almost dropping out of telepathic rapport. A brother? How was that possible? He had always believed that he, like Danilo, was the only son of his parents. To the best of his knowledge, his parents had been so devoted to each other that when Rafael Hastur had been killed, his wife Alanna had lived only long enough to deliver Regis, and then had died of a broken heart.
. . . your father's son . . . nedestro . . .
Lord of Light! Had his mother known?
Danvan's gaze wavered in intensity.
No, it was . . . before they married . . . Regis! . . . find Rinaldo . . . bring him to Thendara, ensure his rights . . . as Hastur . . .
The old man's mental presence, which had strengthened for a moment, now thinned like mist.
An older brother! Regis reeled under the thought. For so much of his life, he had struggled under the weight of believing himself the sole legitimate Hastur son. Nedestro children were often legitimated; Regis had done this for his own offspring, those that survived infancy.
Promise me . . . came Danvan's fading thought, more plea than command.
"Of course, I will. A brother, I never thought to have a brother!" And a brother with a claim to Hastur, a place among the Comyn.
Then . . . what would his life be like, as a second son? Might he at last be free to choose for himself?
Swear . . .
Regis wrenched his thoughts away from the tumult of possibilities. He felt as if his entire world had just turned inside-out. What sort of man would his brother be, after all these years? No, Regis thought, he must set aside these questions for the moment. All would be revealed in the proper time.
Although he did not know if his grandfather could feel it, he tightened his grasp around the limp hand.
"I swear."
I could use some feedback on which would work best for my website. Is there one you preferred, one that left you particularly eager to read the book?
&&&
Regis found a chair and drew it up near his grandfather's head. His mind had gone blank, as it had when he was a boy called to account by this stern, disapproving old man.
Moments slipped by, marked by the halting rise and fall of the old man's chest. With his psychic barriers down, Regis felt Danilo's steady presence. Danilo believed in him, believed that he could rise above the past. Therefore, Regis must find a way to see the best in this old man, as he had in so many others.
One of Danvan's hands lay on top of the covers. The fingers, with their arthritic joints, quivered like the wings of a misshapen bird. On impulse, Regis grasped the hand. Its lightness surprised him, the softness of the paper-thin skin, the frailness of the bones.
"Grandfather . . ." He could not force the words through his lips, even if he knew what to say.
Grandfather, there's so much I never told you . . .
Tears stung his eyes, but Regis refused to look away. He focused on the pale blue irises that glimmered between crepey lids.
See me, hear me. Forgive me.
"I know I often disappointed you," Regis said aloud. "I couldn't live up to my father's reputation --" which grew in glory with each retelling, and which you never let me forget. "I couldn't be the King you so fiercely wanted me to be. I'm sorry if I let you down."
Regis paused, unable to overcome the resentments that surged within him. Certainly, he admired his grandfather, for who of the Comyn did not, even when they disagreed with him? Part of him still craved the old man's approval, although he knew he would never have it. Nothing he did would ever be good enough, nor any sacrifice of his dreams ever great enough.
He had run out of time. Unless he spoke now, he might never have another chance to set aside the old rancor, to summon all his compassion, to send his grandfather to whatever came beyond life with a clear conscience.
"Grandfather . . ."
Suddenly, the blue eyes cleared and the withered mouth moved silently. Regis tensed and bony fingers closed around his own with desperate, brittle strength. Regis . . .
Regis gasped, taken by surprise. Danvan Hastur, for all his force of will and personality, and his extraordinary statesmanship, had very little of the laran that characterized the Comyn. He had been able to lead the Domains for three generations by diplomacy, wily cunning, and reasoned argumentation. For him to now speak mind-to-mind required almost superhuman effort.
Regis . . .
Grandfather, I am here.
I . . . am dying . . . have . . . very little time . . .
One mind, linked directly to another, could not lie about a matter of such importance.
. . secret I have carried . . . these many years . . . your brother . . . you have a brother . . .
Regis startled, almost dropping out of telepathic rapport. A brother? How was that possible? He had always believed that he, like Danilo, was the only son of his parents. To the best of his knowledge, his parents had been so devoted to each other that when Rafael Hastur had been killed, his wife Alanna had lived only long enough to deliver Regis, and then had died of a broken heart.
. . . your father's son . . . nedestro . . .
Lord of Light! Had his mother known?
Danvan's gaze wavered in intensity.
No, it was . . . before they married . . . Regis! . . . find Rinaldo . . . bring him to Thendara, ensure his rights . . . as Hastur . . .
The old man's mental presence, which had strengthened for a moment, now thinned like mist.
An older brother! Regis reeled under the thought. For so much of his life, he had struggled under the weight of believing himself the sole legitimate Hastur son. Nedestro children were often legitimated; Regis had done this for his own offspring, those that survived infancy.
Promise me . . . came Danvan's fading thought, more plea than command.
"Of course, I will. A brother, I never thought to have a brother!" And a brother with a claim to Hastur, a place among the Comyn.
Then . . . what would his life be like, as a second son? Might he at last be free to choose for himself?
Swear . . .
Regis wrenched his thoughts away from the tumult of possibilities. He felt as if his entire world had just turned inside-out. What sort of man would his brother be, after all these years? No, Regis thought, he must set aside these questions for the moment. All would be revealed in the proper time.
Although he did not know if his grandfather could feel it, he tightened his grasp around the limp hand.
"I swear."
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no subject
Date: 2009-09-14 06:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-14 07:39 pm (UTC)So far, this one would be my first choice. :>) Because, while we know Regis gets stuck being the Hastur, in here he has hope, and I'm very curious to see how it all plays out.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-14 08:41 pm (UTC)