Djaq had always been "one of the guys". Even when she was Saffiyah, she'd always considered herself. "one of the guys" but that wasn't always a good thing.
When Saffiyah and Djaq were born their parents were overjoyed. Their mother died a few days after their second birthday, so their father raised them. The twins were absolutely inseparable. They slept in the same room, and shared everything with each other. Djaq was always slightly more of an extrovert than Saffiyah, but both were pretty quiet, except when they were with each other. Saffiyah had a few girl friends, but the way she felt about any one of them was shamed in comparison to the way she cared about her beloved brother Djaq. So when Djaq made friends, Saffiyah joined their group.
Even at a young age, it was clear that Saffiyah would be a tomboy. Other girls donned flowing dresses and wore their hair up in intricate designs. Saffiyah threw a fit any time she had to wear a dress, much preferring boys pants, and her father was hopeless with hair styling, but Saffiyah didn't miss it. At their seventh birthday party her father laughed proudly when his daughter managed to tackle any boy that came at her as the boys played in the mud. The girls sat nearby giggling and playing with dolls.
Saffiyah always hated dolls.
When the twins turned ten, it was considered improper for girls to go to school; so her father sent Djaq off to school and taught Saffiyah himself. Her father got a report from Djaq everyday on what he was learning, so that Saffiyah wouldn't miss anything or fall behind. Then every night when Djaq came home their father taught both of them in the art of medicine, being a very skilled surgeon himself.
It was also at this age that it became appropriate for girls to learn to sew and cook and clean; while the boys learned to fight. So every Monday she was brought to Anhi's house where all the girls of their neighborhood congregated and learned what they were supposed to. Meanwhile Djaq was being taught to fight - with daggers, and bows, and swords.
It would've been natural, expected even, that as the twins grew up and pursued different futures they would inevitably grow apart. After all; one learned to fight as the other learned to sew. No one would have expected them to remain as close as they had been. So they did the only logical thing they could think of – Djaq taught Saffiyah to fight. Djaq had no inclination to learn the more girly subjects Saffiyah was being subjected too, and seeing as Saffiyah herself thought it was all rubbish, these lessons were one-sided.
However, soon Saffiyah became more and more skilled until it was obvious that she was indeed a better fighter than Djaq. Their father eventually found out what was happening and encouraged it; he even bought Saffiyah some weapons of her own. "It's good for a woman to learn to fight." He told her, "It's always good to be able to protect yourself, especially if you're a woman."
As all this was going on, the twins entered into their teenage years. At about age 12, all the girls started to notice the boys, all of them except Saffiyah. Saffiyah had always noticed them – just not like that. She much preferred the company of boys, basically because she didn't have to worry about who was cute, and who was masculine, while she did her hair and nails and such. This was all nonsense to Saffiyah. She preferred boys because they kept things simple and uncomplicated. She'd always loved boys – it wasn't until she was about 15 that she actually started to like them though.
That was when she started noticing Khoy. Khoy was a friend of Djaq's and therefore, a friend of hers. Up until this point she'd only talked to the other girls about boys so she wouldn't seem so strange. She claimed to like some, and she honestly did – after all they were nice and kind to her, and not bad looking. But she was plenty happy without some boy courting her, and so figured she didn't need one. It stung a little when boys didn't show interest in her, but it wasn't loss that bothered her so much as insult. But then there was Khoy.
Khoy was an amazing person. He was extremely kind and nice; to everyone. But he was outgoing, and would go out of his way to make Saffiyah laugh. And wow, was he attractive! She thought one day. It was about then that she realized this was what the other girls meant when they said that they liked one of them. When Saffiyah was with him all was good, she could not be in a bad mood. And he actually talked to her! He went out of his way just to talk to her. And so Saffiyah fell in love. Or at least, she thought she did. And that's when he broke her heart.
He began courting Jania. Jania! The attractive but extremely mean girl who lived down the street. How could he pick her over me?! She obsessed. What's she got that I don't. And so she realized. She was not a pretty girl. She'd always kind of known it, but this just hurt.
Pretty girls are tall she thought bitterly as she cried one night alone in the room she shared with Djaq. Pretty girls have long faces, and long flowing curly hair. Pretty girls have a small waistline and big chests, pretty girls have a figure! That is why I'm not pretty. My hair is short, and my face is round. I am short. And I have no figure- a small chest. And so she lost all hope, after all, why would someone fall in love with me? I am not pretty.
This was probably the first thing she had ever kept from Djaq, but she didn't want him to see how her self-esteem had fallen. She didn't want him to see how other people had made her feel so bad; he might try to make her feel batter! He might succeed at making her feel better! But she didn't want to feel better, she decided. In any case, she figured, it would be safer, safer not to hope, safer to just accept that you're not pretty, Khoy doesn't love you, and no one ever will. Hope is a dangerous thing.
Khoy was not the first boy she fell in love with, there were others. But every time another potential relationship was torn down and thrown at her, she fell deeper and deeper into despair. Every boy she liked would talk to her as a friend then show interest in someone else, crushing her rising hopes. Meanwhile only two males showed any interest in her at all – that was Kyaiven, who was an unbearably boring person she hated to be around, and Rasheed who was a middle-aged man that hinted at arranged marriage to her father. Luckily for Saffiyah she had a say in her marriage – some of her girl friends with stricter parents were married off at 15 (Saffiyah shuddered at the thought) – and Rasheed repulsed her. So finally by age nineteen she had resigned herself to her life as "one of the boys" and never "one of the girls with a boy".
This was when Djaq went off to war. Saffiyah had tried to follow, but her father wouldn't let her. "The battlefield is no place for a woman – no matter how trained she is." He'd told her sternly, countering her protest before she'd even voiced it. When she talked to Djaq about it he'd simply said, "I wish you could come, Allah knows you'd do well out there, better than me probably, but someone needs to take care of father." Before he was even through his sentence their father could be heard coughing loudly down the hall and Saffiyah knew he was right.
"Just promise me" Saffiyah said grabbing her brother's hand, "promise me, one day, you'll help me get on the battle field. I am not meant to sit at home idly for the rest of my life twiddling my thumbs and… cooking." She spat the word out with disgust, making Djaq laugh. She hated sewing and cleaning, but cooking she was just bad with – she would never be able to cook. "Saffiyah, I promise you, one day, I will help you get out of here and fight. You need to, I know. So I will help in any way I can, to make that happen for you." He squeezed her hand and walked away. She stood in the door and watched him walk away with his knapsack over one shoulder before he turned and waved at the end of the road then disappeared around the corner. That was the last time Saffiyah ever saw her brother Djaq.
A month before she got the news, her father fell ill and died. She avoided all males; afraid to be claimed in marriage, which was not all uncommon for an unmarried orphaned girl. She avoided all men and waited for her brother's return so she could leave with him – but he never came.
Djaq kept his promise though. He helped Saffiyah get out and go where she belonged. He lent her his name, his identity. After thinking long and hard about it, for days after she got the news Saffiyah's path became clear, and she knew it was what Djaq would have wanted.
She'd always been "one of the guys" why not actually become one?. . .Her passion was fighting, if she took her brother's name she could fight. Not for the holy land, she decided, not to defeat Englishmen, but for Djaq. She would fight for her brother, Djaq, to keep him alive in the only way she could.
Besides, she reasoned, she was plain – she had absolutely no hope in finding love. She would be lonely no matter which path she took, she may as well take the one that let her personality shine- even if it meant sacrificing all hope for a normal life. But there is no hope she thought there is no hope. Hope only leads to pain.
And so she became Djaq and constantly put up this wall around her. She refused to have any man break through her wall, refused to let any man into her heart; for to break the wall would lead to hoping and she didn't want that. Her heart grew more and more accustomed to being cold, which was how it was kept inside its wall.
And so the events came to pass, and Saffiyah's, Djaq's life fell into motion. She joined the war, she fought for her brother, and she was captured. She became a slave and still no one knew the secret she concealed. No one discovered what really lay beneath her shirt. And so her walls were kept strong and in tact, forever concealing the multitude of tragedies of her past that stole hope from her life. Her precious and miserable walls that would never be torn down, for she would never let them.
Eventually she wound up in a band of outlaws' camp in England. There she first looked into the eyes of Will Scarlett. Little did she know
her treasured walls,
her protective walls,
…were history.