Shade
The story of two Gracelings' son. /Now he can't help but feel the irony./
His name was Lire, and he was the son of a killer woman and a prince. Both were powerfully Graced, and he was born into the world with expectations of his greatness. Perhaps, some thought, he would be born Graced. The first time he opened his eyes, one would be a striking red (blue-black-green-white) and maybe the other would be yellow (silver-purple-brown-orange). But both his eyes were a nice hazel color, and there was a little disappointment. But they were sure that his eyes would turn within the year. So they watched every blink, were there every time he woke up, and waited for the day he would change.
Years passed.
Lire grew up to find disappointment in every pair of eyes that looked at him. They expected greatness, and he was average. His mother, he knew, hated weakness. She tried to love him but her very Grace denied him, because when it all came down to it, he was a weakness and survival depended on getting rid of weaknesses.
His father was better. Lire loved his father for every moment he felt like hating his mother. Father was a rock, unmovable, unbreakable. Father was his foundation, and the only one who could look at him without thinking he's not what I expected how pathetic is he really their son. Lire's father always told him he was special, always said Graces didn't matter to most people.
But they mattered to his family, his father's family and his mother's friends. They tried, he knew, but expectations were crushed and he was normal.
When he finally left home, Lire decided he wasn't going to tell people his parent's names. They were too famous, and he didn't want even more people staring and finding him inadequate to carry on their legend. So he moved on, and left his childhood behind.
At the ripe old age of sixty-four, Lire looks in a mirror. He leans forward, closer and closer, until the details are only going to start blurring if he goes farther. He examines the eyes that have made a lot of people into liars and lost many their bets.
One is just a shade or two lighter than the other.
He blinks, and laughs. He has long forgiven his mother and his family, but now he can't help but feel the irony.
Then he turns around to face his wife, and together they descend into the fray of their children, and grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.
This did so not turn out the way I thought it would. I really don't like it too much, but I want to contribute to the Graceling fandom, and I really don't think it's getting any better than this. By the way, in case you missed the references, Lire is Katsa and Po's son. Yeah. I went there.