Disclaimer: *mumbles something under her breath* But the poetry's mainly mine- really, that should be what's said under my breath, since it's terrible- only somewhat intentionally.
Notes: The first real chapter! Not that it really changes anything. Reviews equal commitment. So… ugh, never mind, anything else I say will be interpreted one way: Review. Please. For my sanity. Oh for Dharin's, if you care about him more.
Again, keep in mind that I'm reinventing Dharin's character, since we don't see in his head- from what I've gathered, he's intelligent yet set apart from his peers. But I think he has a hidden sense of humor as well, which I'm going to exploit. Sirkana, in this chapter, is also a little lighter because I figure she'd open up to Dharin, since she seems to have the relationship only with him. Also, I am, as some of you noticed, modernizing the dialogue a bit, since it fits the story more. Plus I could never hope to match up with Croggon, and I don't want to ruin the world she's created.
And, yes, I am writing in past tense now. Intentionally.
Leaning in my chair, against the wall.
My nose several inches from the book, since it was impossible to cram my nose into the actual spine, as several people accused me of doing.
My eyes flickering across the print, my brain taking it in.
My mouth letting it out.
"Hark! Fair maid, from skies above,
Which shower thee with beams of love!
With windblown hair of raven feather,
Fairer than the summer weather,
And moonlit skin in moonlit land,
May I implore to take your hand?"
Gesturing dramatically with my hand, as if it were a sword. Changing personas, my voice mimicked a skittish female- very emphatic and very hot.
"Hush, hush, thou speak from blinded past-
Such beauty never begged to last.
Yet here I stand before thy charm,
Escaped from age yet prone to harm."
The male spoke again, scoffing heroically, baritone ringing:
"Come, though speak'st of nothing…"
"I daresay, you're speaking quite a bit to be speaking nothing," came the voice I hardly had to put a name to recognize. Still, while fact that the voice had spoken was unsurprising, the fact that it had spoken from the doorway, interrupting my two-person monologue, was startling enough that even the great Ardhur could scarcely have been ashamed of what happened next.
Falling off my chair, against the wall.
My nose shoved in the book- since it was evidently possible to cram one's nose into the spine.
My eyes flickering in pain, my brain taking it in.
My mouth letting it out.
"Ow!"
From my sprawled position on the floor, I was hard pressed to see the owner of the voice- especially with the cover of the book flopped over my eyes. Flicking it away with my finger, somehow, I knew she was grinning a special grin that was reserved solely for me, the grin that portrayed not the political guise of a practiced liar but the pure happiness that could only come from a child's growth. Or shrinkage, in my case.
I was proud of her pride.
"I'm not going to ask how long you were watching," I called, forcing myself painfully into a sitting position so that I could see her head floating above my desk- well, not mine, actually, it was Vul à Taqar's desk. But he had the best library, and the lock was easy to pick…
"Long enough to see your Ardina imitation, if that's any comfort," Sirkana answered, and yes, she was grinning. I knew I was as well, despite the throbbing pain in my head and the trouble I was likely to barely escape out of.
"Trust me, anything close to comfortable is looking favorable now." The floor, like many, was uncarpeted and, needless to say, could use something in the line of cushioning. I supposed I could get up, but then I'd have to move.
The floor was looking quite nice today.
"I know you have better taste in poetry than that," Sirkana teased. "Ebelina of Desor-"
"Could be out-rhymed by me, I know. I just like saying the word 'implore.'" At her dubious glance, I modified, "Well, and calling myself charming."
"Vanity," Sirkana sighed with another half-grin.
"Rhymes with the word prodigy… kind of, in a suffix assonance style. Um, yeah…" I trailed off, glancing up at her innocently. "So, you came here looking for Vul, right?"
"Actually, I just departed from his presence," she said with obvious pleasure behind her stern demeanor. "He said something about some nephew of mine and ransacking his poetry collection- you don't happen to know anything about this, do you?"
"Of course not!" I declared hastily, shoving the book father away. On second thought, I grabbed it before quickly rising, straightening the chair. Standing behind it, I continued, "Nothing at all."
"I certainly hope not. My sister sent word that you were extremely well-behaved, one of the best in your class."
"Well, yeah, of three people," I muttered under my breath.
"The most promising of the entire decade," Sirkana explained further. I didn't know any better, I would think she was bragging about me to me.
"I had no idea they thought of me that fondly. Last time I was in class, the professor made me stay overtime for trying to teach Solla how to read, saying I was wasting my talent and using- and I quote-'incorrect and unproven methods my ancestors would scoff at.' End quote."
"And?" Sirkana prompted.
"Then he asked me to tutor him after pretending to hit me with a stick. Just so the other children wouldn't rebel. But I said no, and then he really hit me with the stick. Bruised my left rib, hasn't felt the same since…"
"Why refuse?" Sirkana questioned.
"Because he had no intention of ever teaching the others how to read," I replied. "He was using me for money. You see, one of the preacher's from a neighboring villages bet that… well, it was complicated. Plus he smelled worse than my dogs."
"Should I be worried about your future?"
"Why worry about my future when you've got this disobedient nephew loose right now? He could be ransacking the entire village for copies of bad Ebelina poetry- in fact, he could be in this very room right now." I glanced over my shoulder mysteriously. "Okay, maybe in one of the adjoining rooms. Most likely prepping for his next crime. That's probably why we've never met, this mysterious cousin and I, he's been roaming the land, leaving devastation in his wake, constantly pursued by the bards of Norloch." I paused, considering the next twist in my tale, of how this cousin had come into existence. "Hey, you had a twin brother, didn't…?"
"Yes," Sirkana answered curtly. Something in her eyes changed, something I had seen often but never so deep. Towering over most members of the clan, including the men, she naturally seemed a bit unapproachable, especially with her planted stern expression at the times. Her eyes could be a true weapon, but they never lied.
She had been looking at me, but now she looked away, simply disturbed, shaken. I hadn't meant to upset her, and I sensed she knew this as I knew that anything else I could say would only harm the situation further. An awkward silence resumed.
The floor was looking quite nice right now.
"I'm sorry, Dharin," she murmured finally.
"Don't be," I replied automatically. "I didn't know him…" So the wrong thing to say. Not only was it stunningly obvious, but the words themselves seemed so callous- and the implication of the unmentioned twin was clear. "I suppose says everything. I'm sorry I…"
"You have the right to ask," Sirkana said, and she meant it. "If I could ever tell anyone… If I ever chose to tell anyone, I'd choose you."
Much more hid behind her words. Her eyes were a great mask for secrets, but they betrayed the fact the secrets were there.
"I don't want to know," I said, wishing for anything but awkwardness. She was never unapproachable to me. Somehow, we connected, inexplicably but in way that nothing could sever. She saw everything in me, and I saw much more than anyone else saw in her. She wasn't my mother, but she was where it counted.
"So," I stated awkwardly. "Why were you seeking this rebellious nephew anyway?"
"I was going to inform him about tonight's dance," Sirkana answered, regaining much of her color. "We've got a guest."
"Ask him if he's got Volume VI of Fel of Norloch's Epic of Bronwyn," I yawned, having no intention to see yet another boring glorified supper. "Everything here's so oral…"
"She's female."
"Did I mention how I'm reserving the seat to her left?"
"Already taken care of," Sirkana smirked. "Be warned, I'll be on her right. Dharin, don't scare her too badly- she's had a hard time these past months…"
"Scare her? I'm insulted. Do I look scary?"
"Depends. Are you planning on brushing your hair?" Sirkana gave me no time to recover. "Dharin, keep an eye on her."
"Two eyes, even, all night," I agreed. She smiled formally as I frowned. "Wait, why?"
"She's new here. You know how that is," Sirkana answered casually, but there was more.
"Is she special?" I questioned suspiciously.
"Isn't every woman special?" Sirkana replied, her eyes sparkling. "Don't use up all the fragrances," she instructed as she strolled away, her tall shadow disappearing down the hallway.
There was always more.
***
"Speak to me, fair maid! Speak, and do not go!"
Water splashed everywhere with my gallant hand gestures. Thankfully, the bathhouses were empty save for me… possibly because of me.
What can I say? At least I had a reputation.
"What sorrows have your eyes inlaid with such black woe?"
I paused my dramatic recital. Sniffing, I plucked a random perfume from the rack. Lavender. Women liked lavender, right? So what if the perfume was designed for women? The women got a whiff of them either way, and one way clearly worked more in my favor. Except that one time that scarf selling guy thought I was flirting with him…
Humming softly, I drenched myself in the perfume, plucking a few others out as well. "Vanilla… strawberry, love strawberry!… Mint? Well, okay… BUBBLES!"
Yep, I had a reputation, all right.
"While I was dancing in the square, I saw a maiden ever fair…"
"Dharin! Is that you?"
"No!"
"Well, hurry up!"
"I told you, it's not me, it's… it's… someone who's not me but who would be me in the circumstance that-"
"Nice try, Dharin."
***
Ten minutes and several fragrances later, I was finally satisfied. In the end, I went for the good old fashioned scent- soap. After all, who didn't like soap?
What if she's allergic to soap? Or maybe she's been on the road so long that she's stained in an impenetrable layer of dirt and will be insulted by your cleanliness, thinking it's a slight on her. Maybe you should have bathed in dirt! Maybe…you're just being an idiot. Yeah, love that theory, since it's the one that works the most in your favor. Backhandedly.
My hair flopped over my eyes as I shook the water out of it- with any luck, it'd be dry by suppertime. In the circumstance that it wasn't, I could always go for the rugged handsome look- with the slightly over-grown hair and wild bangs– and maybe even a fake whiplash scar by my eyebrow…
I exited rather pleased by the effect I had created using some curlers for a few minutes that a nameless female had left behind. With my prepared speech, I was sure to woo any girl- no matter how special.
"Excuse me?" came a soft sweet voice, so perfect that it must have been my imagination. I ignored it- until a matching hand tapped on my shoulder. "Excuse me?"
I whirled around to find myself facing a maiden so fair, she must be Ardina herself. No, even more so! She surpassed my imagination, a feat unprecedented. Raven curls flowed down, over her shoulders, over her… other parts, other alluring parts. She was no doll-like figure, though- her biceps were well-formed for a girl of her slim build.
Her eyes topped everything. Blue and deep- like the oceans I'd read about. Mysterious, like you never knew what was coming, and yet welcoming at the same time.
"Could you direct me to the restrooms?" her lips speak somewhere beyond the fuzzy part in my vision.
Sirkana was right; she was special.
"Mister?"
"Uh…"
Tales of my retreating footsteps will be told for generations to come.
Did I mention he has a thing with talking to girls? Anyway, I don't know about this one… it's going to alternate every other chapter from past to present. So… tell me what you think, please. ;D