This post is part of Linda G.Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday meme -an unedited stream of consciousness piece that ties into the weekly prompt: “fly/flies/flew/flu/flue.”
This scene is rated PG-13 for suggestiveness. Proceed at your own discretion.
Last week, I shared Scene One of Foul Deeds Will Rise, draft #1. This week, I give you the opening paragraphs of Scene Thirteen. Our main female protagonist, Niaan, is traveling under an assumed identity, for Reasons.
Across the Firestars
“And when she tried to convince us that the rabbits flew there!” Kilyp hooted, and gave the young woman a shove. “As though they had skinned themselves!”
“Ahh, Tuhlys – you’ve become quite an entertainment for Kilyp, at the least.”
“It is as well,” she said, softly, “As my cooking seems like as not to turn stomachs and upend them.”
Mistress Julyn smiled at her – it seemed she was ever smiling, whatever befell their small group. And, in the heart of Winter’s Knell, there was much that could befall a traveling troupe. “You need only see to the matter of meat, Tuhlys. If you wish to entertain Kilyp – in any way, that’s your dealing, and no part of our arrangement.”
Julyn’s smile gained a note of suggestion, not for the first time. Kilyp stayed ever near her, when he could manage to do so. He didn’t gift her in the manner of a Tacivaarii man who wanted to share furs with a woman. Nor did he have the complacent, posturing manner of an Untribed.
He was a man who desired her, and, in ways small and large, he showed it. Soon or late, she must needs tell him that she wanted him not – him, nor any man but Kaivelt her Solemate. But not here in the common room of this small, nestlike inn where they were passing this tenday in warmth and comfort.
No, it was a thing that must be handled gently and carefully, because Kilyp had made no trouble, and there was nothing wrong with him. It was that she had belonged to Kaivelt since she was a child, and no other could take his place with her, even though she couldn’t wholly accept him, accept that he wasn’t truly her Huntleader…
“You’ve grown quiet and sorrowful looking again, pretty Tuhlys. What can there be to make one so young so very sad? Come, lovely little rabbit, and dance with me?”
Such dancing, at the Kai’s Keep, was always a prelude to coupling. Not so among the Tacivaarii, where dancing was to tell stories, to celebrate lives or place honor at death…
But among the merchantwomen and their guardsmen, it seemed only another of their many entertainments, another way to connect with those with whom they might trade, and to pass the long hours between. It meant nothing, she thought, other than the moment.
But she had been a Trueborn Tacivaarii Huntress, once. She would be certain of what she offered, and what he accepted of her.
“I’ll dance with you, Kilyp. Here, in this room, and to music. As for any other form of dancing – know that I will not – not today, and not any other.”
He came near, studying her with his bright eyes, eyes that minded her, of a sudden, of Rachyl, with a pang that near brought tears, and caught at her breath. “Mayhap I can convince you – ”
“No, Kilyp. It’s not you. It’s a problem within me; I’m not free to dance with you in those ways. Were I free – there would be no one before you.”
“Ah, so our sweet little rabbit, our Tuhlys, has someone who has taken away her heart. Is that why you are so sad, rabbit?”
“Let us not speak on it. Let us fly in the dancing; let us pretend there is nothing else but this moment -” She bit her lip to try to keep her voice steady, and Kilyp reached to brush away her tears.
“Ah, sad little flying rabbit. Come, let me hold you, and be, for this glass, your shelter. I’ll fly with you, in the dancing, and, mayhap, for these moments, you’ll forget whatever keeps you from he who is lucky enough to have such a hold upon your soul.”
“Dance with him, my own. Dance, and find some comfort in it.”
A soft whisper in her mind, echoing in her soul. Welcome – if it was Kaivelt.
No. She wouldn’t think on it now. Now was for dancing with Kilyp…and imagining that she could fly in truth, that she was flying and dancing across the firestars to Kaivelt. She reached out to him, allowed him to pull her up and into his arms. He was roused, when he settled her close, but he said nothing of it, and did not try to force her to press into him. She lay her head upon his broad chest, his slow strong heart a soothing counterpoint to the country reels being played by the inn’s players.
And then they flew and whirled, and spun, and within her Kaivelt rejoiced at this motion, and he too was dancing, dancing with the woman in his arms and some strange liquid surging within them…
Why is Niaan with this group?
Will she regret dancing with Kilyp?
What’s all this about flying rabbits, anyway?
Who and where is Kaivelt, if he is Kaivelt?
I’ve gotten over 30,000 words drafted, in a week….will I be able to write another 45,000 in what’s left of the month?
Come back next Saturday, when I may or may not answer some, all, or none, of these questions!
Have you tried stream-of consciousness writing?
Come join in – there’s just a few simple rules.
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I know this isn’t quite what they danced to; but I love it, and want to share!