Hello everyone! привет!
Don't worry, I am finishing The Queens and will be updating "Give your heart a break" all this week.
This story came to me and after much debating, I have decided to keep the main characters I thought of when I first started creating this story.
This story is a Rei/Jadeite story.
The characters are not mine, but I will use them whichever way I want. YAY!
Please take into consideration the time period and thus, how my characters will act. My time period is about 1200 AD- crusader time.
I will be bending history for my own personal gain, simply because I can. I love History, but for this particular story, I will be taking personal liberties.
This story will contain aspects of religion but will not dive into any particular religion. The main ones you'll see aspects of is Christianity and Islam. The reason? Well, its what works for this story. Neither one will be demonized and neither one will be made the victor. They are simply tools in this story. If you have an issue with that, please stop reading now.
My year's worth of taking Arabic while at University, played a little role. I'm fascinated by the language (though I suck at speaking it). I'm better at French or Russian.
My primary language is English ('murica). Therefore, by obvious reasons, this story will have Arabic names in some cases, but will be in English. o_O
Just figured I would put that out there. I will have a few Arabic words tossed into sentences, I'm sure.
If anyone speaks Arabic and wants to help correct any issues (Minus names picked), I'd greatly appreciate it!
This story will be Rated M. I will be very picky with this story. I plan on taking my time. I actually don't even have the whole thing written out yet. But, hope that as the story progresses, so does my ideas. I got the idea for this story by watching and reading about Assassin's Creed and listening to Imagine Dragons. I'm obsessed with Imagine Dragons right now. This story first came to me while I was listening to their song Monster.
Anyways, this is simply a taste. I also promised myself that each chapter following this one, should never be below 3,000 words. I want details and a good a story.
Enjoy!
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Chapter 1
Ever since I could remember,
Everything inside of me,
Just wanted to fit in (oh oh oh oh)
I was never one for pretenders,
Everything I tried to be,
Just wouldn't settle in (oh oh oh oh)
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Light blue eyes stared out over the harbor as slaves and pirates traveled to and fro from the port. The sound of chains being swept across the wooden dock could be heard across the harbor. The harbor of Constantinople was bustling with noise and activities, as ships were being pulled into their docking stations. Jad breathed in, the smell of salt and sweat greeted him. He moved his arms from across his chest and held his right one up- waving his hand in a circular motion in the air, he heard feet move quickly behind him as his ship was pulled into the dock.
"Where to?"
Jad turned towards his second in command, Kasim and gave a slight grin, "To the house of Aseel. The bastard has refused to pay me back in a timely manner. It's time we take it back."
Kasim grinned, teeth almost purely white against his dark mocha skin, "Do the men get booty?"
Jad nodded as he turned back towards the awaiting harbor, "The men can take whatever they want. Aseel has had five years to return the money. I feel I've been patient enough. Find horses for us, thirteen in total. We will leave the moment you return."
Kasim simply nodded and turned, his large body moving quickly across the ship.
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"Raia! Where are you child?" Jenna, the housemaid, scurried from the veranda to the gardens, her soft brown eyes, the only thing visible from the niqab she wore, peeking through every available hiding spot. "Come now child! Your father asked me to have you dressed before the Iman showed! I do not wish to be lashed."
She heard a deep sigh from behind the hedge and watched Raia step out. Dressed in attire suitable for the lands of England, Jenna shook her head gently. Everyday Raia looked more and more like her mother. She could only smile softly at the sight. "Come. I have a beautiful ruby niqab for you."
Raia rolled her blue-bonnet eyes skyward. "Jenna, I do not wish to wear the niqab." Twirling a piece of her long dark hair between her fingers, Raia glanced up at the woman who had taken the spot of 'mother' for the past sixteen years of her life. She hoped her desperate looking face would steer the woman away from the suffocating attire, but when she met the deep set eyes of Jenna, she knew she wouldn't win this battle.
"Fine. Lead the way."
Raia grinned as the plump woman moved quickly from the garden; her smaller size not hindering her in the slightest. However, as her feet began to follow, Raia felt a sudden sense of dread. Stopping, she turned to look over the vast garden. Something was coming and while she couldn't say what, Raia felt a shiver run down her spine. She turned and ran quickly, afraid to dwell on the feelings any longer.
Raia looked at herself in the mirror. She heaved a heavy sigh and turned side to side. The ruby niqab, in color, was gorgeous, that she couldn't deny. But the material was suffocating in the high summer heat. The only relief she felt was when Jenna tied her long black hair into a tight braid down her back. She heard a soft approval behind her and turned.
Raia gave a slight bow as her father stepped forward, "Raia. You look perfect. The Iman will be impressed."
Lifting a brow, Raia spoke, "Impressed father?"
Aqleem Aseel nodded, "Yes, daughter."
Raia cringed at that. He rarely called her daughter and the thoughts that began to travel had fear seizing up. "Why would the Iman be impressed with me?"
Her father's smile would have had any other woman running, its sinister smirk made her heart flutter.
"Imam Hassan Al-Mudhlim is a respectable man. One who is looking for a bride. He has brought it to my attention that he saw you two days ago in the bazaar and wished to meet you."
Raia felt fear grip her heart. He would sell her to the highest bidder. Since the death of her mother, an English woman by the name of Maria, her father had turned to a cold, ruthless man. Or, at least thats what was told to her. She never had the opportunity to meet the man her mother had fallen in love with. Her mother died shortly after giving birth to her, leaving her father with only one child, a daughter, to take care of. She recalled being a young girl, perhaps around nine summers, hiding behind the stacks of books in her father's maktabah. She watched him, hunched over crying out her mother's name. Then, in a twist, he cursed her for leaving him with a daughter instead of a son. A son would have been a greater blessing bestowed upon him. The memory itself still lingered in her mind and regardless of what she tried to do, her resentment towards her father grew.
Her thoughts swayed to that of the Imam. Raia swallowed silently. She had seen him before, walking around the bazaar as if he was the next chosen Prophet. He was at least thirty years her senior, with graying hair and dark, wrinkled skin. He moved with a limp, though she was told he fought in many battles prior to becoming an Imam. She shook her head. She would rather die than marry him. Her hands curled up into balls as the urge to hit her father almost overwhelmed her, "Imam Al-Mudhlim is older then you father! He already has three other wives! Why would you think this would be good?"
Raia watched her father's dark eyes grow even darker from her words. His large body moved towards her. Before she could blink, his hand came crashing down across the side of her face sending her sprawling to the floor. Like the many times before, Raia didn't make a sound.
Keeping her face down, she decided to speak once more, "If you think you can sell me to the highest bidder father, you are mistaken."
She felt his large hand grip the back of her neck as he dragged her back towards him, "And if you think you will live a free life daughter-" his voice hissed, "you are mistaken. You are my property and I can sell you to whom I wish." Dropping her back to the ground, Raia glared, the ruby colored niqab blocking her face from view.
She felt her father move closer until they were interrupted from one of the house servants stating visitors had arrived. Her father fixed his attire and glanced down, "Jenna, prepare her at once. I need this to be perfect. She will finally be of use to me."
For once in her life, Raia wished that a look could kill as she watched her father leave.
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Raia stared at the tapestries against the far wall. Its bright colors bringing the only comfort she had felt in weeks. The greens and blues woven throughout had her thinking of her mother country. She missed the green fields, the tall trees. She even missed the impressive rose gardens and light rain that fell everyday.
Prior to coming to live with her father once again, Raia had been in her mother's home country of England. Sighing softly, so as not be heard, Raia admitted that she missed her aunt and uncle the most. She had lived with her aunt, her mother's eldest sister for the past five years. While their living was modest, Raia had never gone without. She often thought kindly of her aunt and uncle and wished she would have been able to stay. They were unable to have children of their own, so when she had written and asked to stay with them while her father traveled farther east, they were happy to oblige.
Her years there were spent riding her favorite horse, a brown Arabian that she named Zameel, reading in their small library and removing herself from her studies to spend time with her aunt. Her uncle was a merchant by trade, however, unlike her father, he was home every night, kissing his dear wife on the forehead.
From the moment she saw them together, Raia admitted that she wanted a love as tender as theirs. She had not witnessed the love between her own parents and when she asked her aunt how her mother could love such a cruel man, she was waved off. Though she never missed the sad look that passed over her aunts face nor the soft pat her uncle provided. By the God of heaven, she missed them.
"Raia would enjoy traveling very much, wouldn't you Raia?"
Raia turned sharply as her name was spoken twice. She looked through the thin fabric as Imam Hassan Al-Mudhlim turned towards her. She knew the proper thing would have been to nod her head in silence; however, her nature compelled her beyond such things. Standing abruptly, Raia glanced at her father, then towards the Imam.
"I would like to travel back home, to England and to aunt Margery." Raia watched the red seep across her father's face; she could almost imagine the horse whip he had already picked out to determine her punishment. " And I do not wish to marry a man twice my age."
She finally glanced towards the Imam, watching his face light up, the smile that grew across his dry, chapped lips had Raia weary.
"A tongue your daughter possess." Lifting up the cup he held, he inclined it towards her father, "I look forward to taming such a tongue."
When her father turned quickly towards the Imam, lifting his own cup, she felt the bile forming in her throat.
With that, Raia felt her feet carry her from the meeting room and into the garden. She could hear Jenna call her name. But the more she called the further Raia felt like running.
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There you have it. The first chapter.
Thoughts? Reviews? Opinions? I appreciate them all!
I will be sending this over to my editor. =)
~LAla