I considered not posting anything today, since I’m likely to be abysmal at returning comments or visits for the next few weeks (and I haven’t been great at it as it is lately). But I will try my best… I promise.
This week I have eight smallish paragraphs (1-9 for the 19th of April). It’s from Marche in the Swan Song Series. It’s part of a smallish “I’m not sure it belongs” scene that came to me when I was thinking about my one character ‘Listii (the ‘he’ in this scene) and how in the eyes of many people around him, his transformation from childhood to that of a mature man with wife and children in the matter of a few days. Of course, it’s more nuanced and gradual than that, but, despite living with him all his life, these people don’t see the inner developments happening the way most family members see their children/siblings grow and change over time. Vissellii (the ‘she’ here) and ‘Listii are two of a set of triplets, and yet… she’s seeing who he is for the first time.
It’s a common thought these days as I watch the news and read biographies… when do we stop being the child and suddenly become the adult. Frankly, I still feel like a teenager a lot of the time. But even beyond that, because I do a lot of reading about the darker sides of humanity… where do they start? Is this something that has always been there?
When does this… become something… different?
Her brother, instead of watching the dishes, was moving, slowly, almost ritually. Dance moves, yet more. She watched for a moment, marvelling at his balance and control.
She’d seen him being taught to dance and known he would know how to dance… perfectly mimicking the same way he’d been taught it, as with everything. But she’d never expected him to actually dance. Knowing moves was very different than knowing how to move, how to adjust for differences in the ground or proximity. Though he wasn’t following his steps perfectly anymore—she could see several places where he’d have had difficulty with a partner, at the moment he was really feeling the dance.
But she had to smile some, picturing his poor imaginary partner. The woman would have broken toes, shoulders and likely a jaw to match.
“You might want to imagine you have a partner with you, ‘Listii, before you disappoint some lady horridly.”
He paused mid-move, holding his pose so perfectly balanced that Visse could not imagine any statue so solid and yet so fluid—as if ready for flight. The only move was when he cocked a brow at her before replying. “I was.” He set his foot down, standing solid again. “You thought I was dancing?”
She wondered if she shouldn’t leave well enough alone, suddenly realizing those imagined injuries had been intended.
She should have realized that, as malleable as her brother had been through most of his youth, the House Elders would have found him the perfect tool for their private wars with the other High Houses. Emotionless, able to follow an intricate set of directions without needing repeat instructions…
Damn them for turning this… this heartbroken, lovelorn young man into a murderer!
As always, why not head over to the WIPpet linky and visit some our other awesome members after you’re done here. And while you are there, wave “Hi” to Emily Witt, our gracious host.
Many Worlds From Many Minds 