Tag Archive | character: regine

Way-Back Wednesday, a story of Regine

Apr26

March 7, 1810

Regine studied her son – her only son, her only child. She studied his Change, the echo of her father, all those years ago, muttering in the back of her mind.

She took three measured breaths, and then a fourth. “You are my son.”
She affirmed this truth, in case anyone had any doubt. “We will find an appropriate Mentor for you, who can teach you what I have not.”

“If there is anything you have not taught me.”

“I am certain I have missed, perhaps, one or two things.” Regine did not touch easily, but she made herself touch the fluted, fin-like ears that his Change had brought. “You are my son.” She did not know if she was reassuring him, or herself.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/519940.html. You can comment here or there.

Love Meme Answers 1: Morrigan/Reid, Luke/Regine, Linden/Luke

Apr5

For the meme I posted last night here and here, though I just realized I flipped the third one. Guess it’s a freebie!

Morrigan lay in bed, pressed up against Reid’s body, watching him sleep. When he slept, he didn’t pull away from her. When he truly slept, sometimes helped along by a nudge from their doctor, his body relaxed, and she could see how young he was.

She was going to keep him. She’d already known that when she hauled him into her van. She was going to keep him, because he was so strong, so brilliant, and so utterly vulnerable.

He made her want to take responsibility. He made her want to be a grown-up.

Shira watched them together, pouring over the new student lists. She wondered if Luke knew how his wings curled protectively over Regine. She wondered if Regine knew how she looked up to the older Ellehemaei, even when his opinion hurt, even when she stubbornly ignored everything he said.

Shira could see the echos of them, a hundred years past, a hundred years hence. She could see the moment Luke bent to comfort Regine, and the moment Regine learned how to be human for long enough to comfort Luke.

She wished her students, the ones who didn’t always understand friendship, could see this.

Summer. Finally. Mike saw the last of his Students off on vacation, spent one last evening with his favorite non-Mentored student, and braced herself to visit Luke.

He would glower, of course, and grumble. He’d invite her into his home because they were crew, and friends. He’d pour her a drink and have none himself, like he didn’t trust her. He’d refuse to touch her.

But in the end, he would hold out an arm, and hug her, and yell at her for an hour about being a better person. And when he was done, when she’d cried in apology and grumbled and yelled back at him, Mike always felt like she could be better, could be a nicer, more responsible person. Like he made her better.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/315437.html. You can comment here or there.

Family Legacy

Jan22

For cluudle‘s prompt

Addergoole has a landing page here and on LJ

This story requires, I think, some background to really understand.

Her father was scolding Falk again.

Regine could hear every word through the library wall. If she moved to the other side of the library, she wouldn’t have to hear them anymore, and would be able to focus on her studies. She was fascinated with this book, with the whole series of them her father had found and brought for her and Falk, one at a time, plying them with scholarly works the way some girls’ parents brought them toys or clothing.

“Haven’t I given you everything?” their father was demanding, in the quiet way that was so much more real, more intense, than the yelling she’d heard other men do. Her father never yelled. “I have provided you every advantage, Falk. Everything.”

Falk’s answer was almost swallowed. If their father was calm and soft-spoken, Falk was nearly inaudible on a good day. “You’ve given me everything to start, Father. And I am very grateful for that.”

“If you’re grateful, then why would you have done this? Why would you have besmirched my legacy this way?” Their father wasn’t shouting. He would never shout. But his voice was getting a bit more enthusiastic.

“I didn’t do this on purpose. Believe me, it was my sincere wish to Change properly. I don’t know what happened, Father. I didn’t do this to spite you. I didn’t do this at all.”

“My blood is pure-blooded Grigori. My line can be counted all the way back to the Greeks. To the Gods themselves. This must have been another of your experimental ideas.” Their father made “experimental” sound like a perversion. “You will fix this mockery, or you will leave.”

“Father…”

Regine looked down at the book in her hands, and moved to the other side of the library.

Regine and her father Changed as full-blooded Grigori; her half-brother, Falk, did not. At that time, the early 1700’s, the wheres and whyfores of pure-blooded or half-blooded were not understood. The genetics of the Ellehemaei are still not all that well understood.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/241305.html. You can comment here or there.