Got some good writing done tonight...
Aug. 22nd, 2006 06:53 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
logansrogueProbably should have been sleeping but the Muse waits for no one. I figure I may as well make the most of my weeks without any sort of commitments. I can allow myself to do this cause I don't have any place to be. Rather than wallow and pout - I'm enjoying it!
Here's an excerpt from what I wrote tonight. It really encapsulates the spirit of the entire story in one little passage. I'm proud of the character work. The dialogue could probably use some tweaking, and the prose, but I'm happy with the emotional exchange that happens here. There is room for subtle things that can be noticed when reading back later (I doubt anyone takes that sort of care in reading my work, but I put the effort in just in case).
~~*~~
It didn’t take him long to pack his things, since he’d only brought a duffle bag with a change of clothes and a couple of essential items. The moment he stepped from his tent for the last time that day, younger Medjai boys were deconstructing the tent, readying the site for the arrival of the Chieftains. Alex remembered the travelling tents of the other Chieftains from when he was a child, visiting an oasis after the battle against Akhenaten and his terrible supernatural warriors. They were a sight to behold, bedecked with richly woven fabrics spun in deep crimsons, purples, golds and blues. Tassels and dangling little coins were the style de jour, and he wondered if this was still true after all these years. Ardeth’s tent was so modest compared to these abodes. Not surprisingly, though, Ardeth was a man very different to the staunch, traditionalist Medjai. It was his clear track record of victory after victory against their foes that kept him in charge.
He was trudging to his camel to load the saddle bags when a storm of young Medjai boys ran past him, grabbing his bags and racing ahead to his steed.
“Oi!”
They laughed and began to pack his camel for him. From behind him shouted a familiar voice, in Arabic.
“Don’t you damage anything in his bags!” called Kalila. “Or your fathers will have to pay for it!”
Laughs broke out amongst the boys, and they abandoned the fastenings on the saddlebags and made off for other duties. Kalila shook her head, catching up to Alex. Her modern dress was hidden once more under a veil and robe.
“Answer me something?” he asked her. She nodded. “Why bother dressing Western indoors? Why not just wear Medjai clothes all the time?”
Kalila shrugged, her hazel eyes challenging. “Why don’t you wear Arabic clothes?”
“Well-“ He opened his mouth, wagged it, closed it, then sighed, nonplussed. “I suppose because it’s not my culture.”
“You have your answer,” she said.
Alex thought about it a moment. “So… it’s about identity.”
“Identity is about all I have,” said Kalila darkly. They slowed as they reached the camel, and she absent-mindedly tightened the ropes on the saddle.
“That’s not true,” said Alex. “You have your family. And a rather promising position in the tribe. I’m sure they won’t be anywhere near as restricting as they would be with some girl from a less important… family – why are you laughing?”
Indeed, Kalila was chuckling sadly, shaking her head. He could see the rims of her eyes gleaming in the bright daylight.
“You’re older than me, Alex, by nine years. But in some ways you’re like a child.” She sobered.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, frowning.
“You don’t get it,” she said, turning to him, seriousness suddenly in her large hazel eyes. “It begins today.”
“What begins?”
“The end of my freedom!” she shot, almost desperately. “I can turn this boy down, and the next. Who knows how many I can avoid marrying. Eventually, I’ll have to pick one. It’s just a matter of time.”
“You absolutely have to?” he asked, disbelieving. “But surely your Mum and Dad-“
“They can speak of delaying it while they can,” she said. “But one must be reasonable. The tribe needs my father. His leadership will be brought into doubt if it seems as though he cannot control me. If I do not have the expected, traditional life, it’ll reflect very badly on him. My people cannot afford that now, not with the world changing so. Can’t you see it, Alex? Can’t you understand?”
He frowned, looking down at the saddlebags he had been fastening shut. He’d heard her speak the day before about marriage and position, but he hadn’t listened. That rush of protectiveness rose up in him again, and it was all he could do to fight it down and not get angry.
He pressed his lips together, a deep wrinkle of sadness in his brow. “I’m so bloody sorry, Kalila. I wish… I wish I could take you away from it all.”
“It is my fate,” she said, softly, running her hand along the haunch of the camel. “I’m sad to see you go.”
A smile broke on his face. “You are?”
She nodded. “When you’re here… I feel like I can have any fate I want.”
Alex’s smile faded to a sad quirk of his lips. “If it were up to me, you could.”
A tense sigh left her and she turned away, leaning her head on the camel’s side in front of her. She tensed a fist, putting it to her mouth.
“Kalila?”
He stepped closer to her, putting a hand on her shoulder tentatively. She pulled away, pacing in a circle, her cheeks red and her breaths quick and hot.
“Yesterday the thought of my betrothal seemed a nuisance and a chore! But today I’m afraid, Alex! I’m terrified!” She shook her head, eyes welling with tears. “Suddenly it’s something I feel I have to fight, or I’ll go mad!” She turned away from him, gripping the ropes on the camel and hiding her face in her veil, her knuckles growing white.
He didn’t know what to do or say. He’d never been in such a situation before. His instinct was to wrap his arms about her but he knew it wasn’t the done thing, not here, out in the open. He stepped forward, awkwardly, close enough to whisper and be heard.
“You must tell Ardeth how you feel, Kalila,” he said. She glanced to him in raging disbelief but he shook his head, putting a finger to his lips to quieten her. “Please believe me. I know Connie and Ardeth and I know they wouldn’t force your hand in something like this.”
“No,” she said, quietly, shaking her head, tears still full in her eyes. “Mother and Father never would… even if the Medjai community were falling apart around their ears. That is their error. I don’t face this for them, Alex. I face this for my people!” She shook her head. “I am Medjai. Yes, some part of me has English wants and desires. But my blood and my land is Egypt. It is the only way…”
“No,” said Alex, adamantly, shaking his head. “Not true, not a bit of it. There are always options.”
Kalila gave a sad, teary laugh. “You’re mad, O’Connell.”
“I’m not,” he said, gripping her upper arm firmly. “Just you listen. Did my Mum ever tell you about what happened at the Temple of Am Shere?” Kalila shook her head, her eyes wide and cautious. “Did she tell you anything at all about it?”
”Just that they chased you there, and battled the Scorpion King.”
“Well I’ll tell you a little something. Ancksunamun, you heard of her?” Kalila nodded quickly. “After Dad saved my life, and we were in the pyramid, catching our breaths, Mother stood outside and waited for us to come out. We were just in the doorway when Ancksunamun walked up to her and stabbed her. Just walked up to her and killed her, like that. Dead.” He snapped his fingers.
Kalila looked horrified. “She never- she didn’t die?”
“She did,” said Alex, feeling a sting in his own eyes. “It was one of the worst days of my life. She died in my Dad’s arms. I don’t know how long I sat there with Uncle Jon, crying and wishing that she’d get up and dust herself off. You think being dead – there’s nothing for me to do, right? She’s gone.”
“But she’s-“ Kalila tried to catch her breath as she stammered. “She can’t have-“
“Right,” said Alex, leaning close to her, staring right into her eyes. “Cause I used my head. I got the Book of the Living and I resurrected her. I didn’t give up, Kalila. If I had have given up – I wouldn’t have my Mum now.”
The younger woman gasped, still gripping the rope on the saddle, sniffling. His heart softened, and he put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. He leant closer, his voice warm.
“There are always alternatives, Kalila. Always.” He looked away, gazing at the Medjai camp tiredly. “I’ve got a brain. I’ll try to help you think of one. And we’ll both keep thinking until we’ve got an answer to this problem that you’re happy with.”
Without warning, Kalila pushed herself away from the camel and into Alex’s arms, hugging him tightly. He started, blinking, squeezing her to him only briefly.
“Kalila, your father warned me…”
“I know,” she whimpered, burying her face into his shoulder. “I don’t care.”
“Kalila,” he whispered. “You have to let me go now.”
With a final moan, she nodded, pushing herself away. “I’m sorry…”
He shook his head, squeezing her shoulder briefly. “Don’t be. I’m only thinking of your welfare.”
~~*~~
I'm going to sleep now, I promise.
And hey! Two posts without a certain new obsession! Yay!
Here's an excerpt from what I wrote tonight. It really encapsulates the spirit of the entire story in one little passage. I'm proud of the character work. The dialogue could probably use some tweaking, and the prose, but I'm happy with the emotional exchange that happens here. There is room for subtle things that can be noticed when reading back later (I doubt anyone takes that sort of care in reading my work, but I put the effort in just in case).
~~*~~
It didn’t take him long to pack his things, since he’d only brought a duffle bag with a change of clothes and a couple of essential items. The moment he stepped from his tent for the last time that day, younger Medjai boys were deconstructing the tent, readying the site for the arrival of the Chieftains. Alex remembered the travelling tents of the other Chieftains from when he was a child, visiting an oasis after the battle against Akhenaten and his terrible supernatural warriors. They were a sight to behold, bedecked with richly woven fabrics spun in deep crimsons, purples, golds and blues. Tassels and dangling little coins were the style de jour, and he wondered if this was still true after all these years. Ardeth’s tent was so modest compared to these abodes. Not surprisingly, though, Ardeth was a man very different to the staunch, traditionalist Medjai. It was his clear track record of victory after victory against their foes that kept him in charge.
He was trudging to his camel to load the saddle bags when a storm of young Medjai boys ran past him, grabbing his bags and racing ahead to his steed.
“Oi!”
They laughed and began to pack his camel for him. From behind him shouted a familiar voice, in Arabic.
“Don’t you damage anything in his bags!” called Kalila. “Or your fathers will have to pay for it!”
Laughs broke out amongst the boys, and they abandoned the fastenings on the saddlebags and made off for other duties. Kalila shook her head, catching up to Alex. Her modern dress was hidden once more under a veil and robe.
“Answer me something?” he asked her. She nodded. “Why bother dressing Western indoors? Why not just wear Medjai clothes all the time?”
Kalila shrugged, her hazel eyes challenging. “Why don’t you wear Arabic clothes?”
“Well-“ He opened his mouth, wagged it, closed it, then sighed, nonplussed. “I suppose because it’s not my culture.”
“You have your answer,” she said.
Alex thought about it a moment. “So… it’s about identity.”
“Identity is about all I have,” said Kalila darkly. They slowed as they reached the camel, and she absent-mindedly tightened the ropes on the saddle.
“That’s not true,” said Alex. “You have your family. And a rather promising position in the tribe. I’m sure they won’t be anywhere near as restricting as they would be with some girl from a less important… family – why are you laughing?”
Indeed, Kalila was chuckling sadly, shaking her head. He could see the rims of her eyes gleaming in the bright daylight.
“You’re older than me, Alex, by nine years. But in some ways you’re like a child.” She sobered.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, frowning.
“You don’t get it,” she said, turning to him, seriousness suddenly in her large hazel eyes. “It begins today.”
“What begins?”
“The end of my freedom!” she shot, almost desperately. “I can turn this boy down, and the next. Who knows how many I can avoid marrying. Eventually, I’ll have to pick one. It’s just a matter of time.”
“You absolutely have to?” he asked, disbelieving. “But surely your Mum and Dad-“
“They can speak of delaying it while they can,” she said. “But one must be reasonable. The tribe needs my father. His leadership will be brought into doubt if it seems as though he cannot control me. If I do not have the expected, traditional life, it’ll reflect very badly on him. My people cannot afford that now, not with the world changing so. Can’t you see it, Alex? Can’t you understand?”
He frowned, looking down at the saddlebags he had been fastening shut. He’d heard her speak the day before about marriage and position, but he hadn’t listened. That rush of protectiveness rose up in him again, and it was all he could do to fight it down and not get angry.
He pressed his lips together, a deep wrinkle of sadness in his brow. “I’m so bloody sorry, Kalila. I wish… I wish I could take you away from it all.”
“It is my fate,” she said, softly, running her hand along the haunch of the camel. “I’m sad to see you go.”
A smile broke on his face. “You are?”
She nodded. “When you’re here… I feel like I can have any fate I want.”
Alex’s smile faded to a sad quirk of his lips. “If it were up to me, you could.”
A tense sigh left her and she turned away, leaning her head on the camel’s side in front of her. She tensed a fist, putting it to her mouth.
“Kalila?”
He stepped closer to her, putting a hand on her shoulder tentatively. She pulled away, pacing in a circle, her cheeks red and her breaths quick and hot.
“Yesterday the thought of my betrothal seemed a nuisance and a chore! But today I’m afraid, Alex! I’m terrified!” She shook her head, eyes welling with tears. “Suddenly it’s something I feel I have to fight, or I’ll go mad!” She turned away from him, gripping the ropes on the camel and hiding her face in her veil, her knuckles growing white.
He didn’t know what to do or say. He’d never been in such a situation before. His instinct was to wrap his arms about her but he knew it wasn’t the done thing, not here, out in the open. He stepped forward, awkwardly, close enough to whisper and be heard.
“You must tell Ardeth how you feel, Kalila,” he said. She glanced to him in raging disbelief but he shook his head, putting a finger to his lips to quieten her. “Please believe me. I know Connie and Ardeth and I know they wouldn’t force your hand in something like this.”
“No,” she said, quietly, shaking her head, tears still full in her eyes. “Mother and Father never would… even if the Medjai community were falling apart around their ears. That is their error. I don’t face this for them, Alex. I face this for my people!” She shook her head. “I am Medjai. Yes, some part of me has English wants and desires. But my blood and my land is Egypt. It is the only way…”
“No,” said Alex, adamantly, shaking his head. “Not true, not a bit of it. There are always options.”
Kalila gave a sad, teary laugh. “You’re mad, O’Connell.”
“I’m not,” he said, gripping her upper arm firmly. “Just you listen. Did my Mum ever tell you about what happened at the Temple of Am Shere?” Kalila shook her head, her eyes wide and cautious. “Did she tell you anything at all about it?”
”Just that they chased you there, and battled the Scorpion King.”
“Well I’ll tell you a little something. Ancksunamun, you heard of her?” Kalila nodded quickly. “After Dad saved my life, and we were in the pyramid, catching our breaths, Mother stood outside and waited for us to come out. We were just in the doorway when Ancksunamun walked up to her and stabbed her. Just walked up to her and killed her, like that. Dead.” He snapped his fingers.
Kalila looked horrified. “She never- she didn’t die?”
“She did,” said Alex, feeling a sting in his own eyes. “It was one of the worst days of my life. She died in my Dad’s arms. I don’t know how long I sat there with Uncle Jon, crying and wishing that she’d get up and dust herself off. You think being dead – there’s nothing for me to do, right? She’s gone.”
“But she’s-“ Kalila tried to catch her breath as she stammered. “She can’t have-“
“Right,” said Alex, leaning close to her, staring right into her eyes. “Cause I used my head. I got the Book of the Living and I resurrected her. I didn’t give up, Kalila. If I had have given up – I wouldn’t have my Mum now.”
The younger woman gasped, still gripping the rope on the saddle, sniffling. His heart softened, and he put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. He leant closer, his voice warm.
“There are always alternatives, Kalila. Always.” He looked away, gazing at the Medjai camp tiredly. “I’ve got a brain. I’ll try to help you think of one. And we’ll both keep thinking until we’ve got an answer to this problem that you’re happy with.”
Without warning, Kalila pushed herself away from the camel and into Alex’s arms, hugging him tightly. He started, blinking, squeezing her to him only briefly.
“Kalila, your father warned me…”
“I know,” she whimpered, burying her face into his shoulder. “I don’t care.”
“Kalila,” he whispered. “You have to let me go now.”
With a final moan, she nodded, pushing herself away. “I’m sorry…”
He shook his head, squeezing her shoulder briefly. “Don’t be. I’m only thinking of your welfare.”
~~*~~
I'm going to sleep now, I promise.
And hey! Two posts without a certain new obsession! Yay!
