Repost of an old fic
This is a good place to start if you want to start reading the Ninth Millenium entries.
They take the form of journal entries, recollections, news articles, etc. from various points of view in the Ninth Millenium universe.
This is the repost of something that was posted on my LJ a while back, but I can't find where, so - here it is again.
"But most common among the spacedwelling Nadiran are the Nadrach. One sees them, men and women alike, filling most roles in Nadiran society from merchant to bureaucrat to trader to soldier to spacer. One knows them not with the black hair and stone-gray skin of the Kovadeen, nor the pale hair and pale eyes of the Kryt'thannu, but rather, they are all manner of shades in between. One sees their men engaged in silent dispute over the price of items, their hands in perpetual motion in the secret trade-language; their women negotiating the price of grain and fruits and cloth, with the gold and jewels of their bride-prices tinkling in their braided hair. It is said that the Nadiran are a fiercely patriarchal culture, but there are times, observing their women, one would almost doubt that claim."
The dark-eyed girl sat, hands folded primly in her lap, as First Mother combed her hair. The elder woman pulled the long, red-brown waves, and ungently ran the comb through them. The girl tried not to squirm. Then First Mother began to pull the hair into two long braids.
The girl wished that it were Second Mother braiding her hair, for Second Mother was always gentle - how ironic that First Mother was who gave her life. The two grown women talked to each other as if the girl were not there, and silently, she waited, hoping the painful ordeal would soon be over.
"Zoli, look at little Kati," Second Mother said.
First Mother abruptly stopped her ministrations.
"Vare," First Mother said, softly. "Do my eyes deceive me, Tsahru?"
The two women looked at each other for a moment, and then looked at the girl.
First Mother placed her hands on the girl's shoulders.
"Kat'ehri," she said: "Turn around."
Kat'ehri did so. First Mother reached up, and ran her hand down Kat'ehri's chest.
With deft hands, First Mother untied Kat'ehri's sash, and gently (in fact it was the first time all morning she had been gentle) pushed Kat'ehri's ethai'd robe off of her narrow shoulders. Her manual inspection of the girl's body continued.
"Varè," she said. "You're right, Tsahru."
Tsahru - Second Mother - bent her long body toward the small table, and lifted the oil-lamp gently. She brought it over. "Look," she said.
The oil-lamp smelled horrible, and was very hot. First Mother held Kat'ehri's chin in her hands, and lifted it.
Second Mother shook her head.
Second Mother ran her gloved finger down the side of the girl's face. "Her spots are fading. Our husband promised Lord Vardu that there would be a marriage before Kati's spots were gone, before her first blood. We don't have much time," she says. "Perhaps four years."
First Mother pulled Kat'ehri's ethai'd closed, re-wrapped the sash, and smoothed her clothing.
"Contact Clan Zhirador."
"Isn't it early yet?" Second Mother said.
"He'll be in this sector this year. And the next time, in five years. By the time he is around again, her spots will be gone. Look, they are fading already."
Kat'ehri Ardanu'in shut her eyes, for she knew what would happen. She would be given to Lord Vardu d'ar Zhirador, the man to whom she was promised since birth; she would leave her family. She only barely had breasts, and her spots were still dark, but she would be given to Vardu and he would be her husband and lord.
She sucked in her breath, looked at First Mother and Second Mother, and turned, leaving them.
She ran down the cold metal hallways to her room, where she sunk onto her bed.
She undid the fasteners and sash, and removed her ethai'd, hoping she would not be caught.
She lay on the bed, naked to the waist, running her hands over her body. She was small, and her Mothers had always hoped perhaps she would grow taller with age: but Kat'ehri had not grown much taller.
Kat'ehri's hands finally found her chest, and cradled the newly formed signs of her womanhood.
A painful knot formed in her throat, and tears welled in the corner of her eyes.
Once she looked forward to growing up, to being like First and Second Mother. But now she just wanted to be a little girl again.
~
"Stand still, Kati. Raise your arms."
My First Mother is pinning back the folds of the vermilion gown.
"Why is it red, Lehri-dar," I ask her.
"Surely you know," First Mother says.
"I have never been told."
Second Mother lifts her tea bowl to her lips. "Kati, it is red because red is the color of your life's blood. The color of the blood in your womb. It is the gift."
But I have never seen such a thing.
Second Mother says, "Understand this, child. You have a gift that no man will ever have. Red is the color of your blood, and one day it will give life to another life inside of you. That is why this robe is red."
My First Mother is sewing constantly while Second Mother talks and drinks tea.
"Remember the Prophecy, young one?" Second Mother asks me.
"The one who will return to us our Sacred World will wear a cloak red as a woman's wedding robe and he will be a son of House Vareni," I repeat. It rolls off the tip of my tongue, a memorized line of scripture. I think it is from the Eleventh Book, the Book of Exiles.
"Help me with this, Tsahru," First Mother says.
Second Mother finishes her bowl of tea. She wipes the bowl clean with her handkerchief, and sets the bowl, face down, because an empty offering offends the Varen.
She approaches me, and takes over where First Mother left off, while First Mother pours her own bowl of tea.
I am glad Second Mother is working on the robe now, because while it is said that my blood comes from First Mother's womb, Second Mother's touch is so much gentler.
Even with all their ministrations, my body, half girl and half woman, is lost in the billowing folds of patterned red Seleii silk.
~
"Take tea with me, Kati," says Second Mother.
We are alone. Second Mother motions that I sit next to her. She removes the tea bowl from the leather purse hidden within the folds of my cloak, and she removes her own tea bowl from her own purse. She sets the tea decanter on the low table, rich and black. It smells of many things, young green tea from Selein, and of Altikhari red bush and of cinnamon, and of the honey of yellow Moraeli bees. It was many days ago that we prepared this batch, grinding with mortar and pestle and pouring into strong pouches with honey for preservation. It takes several days for the tea to reach the right combination of bitterness and sweetness.
I have always wondered of the worlds our things come from. It is men who know of these things. Maybe Vardu, the man who will be my husband, will tell me. I begin to look forward to my wedding day in the anticipation that my lord will have stories and he will bring me these stories, and he will tell me these stories and bring me gifts from these worlds.
Today it is of women's wisdom, not men's, that Second Mother wishes to tell me of.
The tea bowls, once wiped with a few swabs of our kerchiefs, sit on the table, lip-down.
We hold our hands clasped over our hearts, visualizing the bright light gathered within that hollow place, then our palms, empty, our fingertips touching the lid of the hot metal container. Inside, silently, I thank the Varen for bringing us these spiritual gifts, and for the temporal gifts, I thank my father and brothers.
Our prayers, as always from women's lips, are silent, within the dark and empty places of our hearts.
The tea bowls are now held upright, and we pour the thick, dark liquid into them.
We drink in silence, the liquid infused with the spices of the trade worlds our men have visited, infused with the prayers we have given.
The tea is finished, the cups wiped clean and put away.
"Give me your hands, Kati."
I hold out my gloved hands, and she clasps my small hands in her hands, large and strong. I have always marvelled at the strength in Second Mother's hands, the fingers knobby and calloused.
She takes a deep breath, and she says to me. "You are to be married soon, Kat'ehri."
My hands are shaking. She squeezes them, gently.
"Know this. Vardu is a good man. He has a good reputation as an honest trader. He is very wealthy, honest and very religious but more than that, he is gentle and kind. He will take care of you," she says.
I know this. I have been told of Vardu my entire life, because I was born to be his bride, I am the product of a promise made before I ever took my first breath.
"I can see that you are scared. I must tell you this, perhaps you will be less afraid. He has two wives already. They will share your duties with you, and they are older. They will help you know what to do. You will live with the women until you have your first blood. Then you will meet your husband."
"Wh-why so early," I ask. "I thought- I thought it would be after my first blood."
Second Mother reaches over, and gently brushes a stray lock of hair from my face. "It is because you are beginning to have breasts. When my first blood happened, I was
as you are. You know that you must be married when your first blood happens. Vardu will not be in this sector when that happens, so it must happen now."
I swallow in a dry throat. I am relieved, but only a little. I have looked forward to marriage my entire life, but now all I can think of is that I pray to the Varen that my first blood never comes.
That night, alone in my bed, I realize something that scares me. Second Mother has told me of the man who is to be my husband, how gentle and kind he is. She has told me nothing of the women I will share him with.
~
Music. The blaring of a dorol'na, once, twice. Drinait'thön Voradu has sounded the horn every day for days, in preparation for a festival. In preparation for my wedding.
People mill around me, not noticing I am there. Not noticing I, Kat'ehri Tsehru Ardanu'in, the peace offering to the lord of Clan Zhirador. My name itself means Peace Offering. In long form, Kat'ehri Tsehru is "gift to an enemy". In short form Kati is simply "treasure".
I am a treasure, I was my family's treasure, and now I will be Lord Vardu's.
They take the form of journal entries, recollections, news articles, etc. from various points of view in the Ninth Millenium universe.
This is the repost of something that was posted on my LJ a while back, but I can't find where, so - here it is again.
"But most common among the spacedwelling Nadiran are the Nadrach. One sees them, men and women alike, filling most roles in Nadiran society from merchant to bureaucrat to trader to soldier to spacer. One knows them not with the black hair and stone-gray skin of the Kovadeen, nor the pale hair and pale eyes of the Kryt'thannu, but rather, they are all manner of shades in between. One sees their men engaged in silent dispute over the price of items, their hands in perpetual motion in the secret trade-language; their women negotiating the price of grain and fruits and cloth, with the gold and jewels of their bride-prices tinkling in their braided hair. It is said that the Nadiran are a fiercely patriarchal culture, but there are times, observing their women, one would almost doubt that claim."
The dark-eyed girl sat, hands folded primly in her lap, as First Mother combed her hair. The elder woman pulled the long, red-brown waves, and ungently ran the comb through them. The girl tried not to squirm. Then First Mother began to pull the hair into two long braids.
The girl wished that it were Second Mother braiding her hair, for Second Mother was always gentle - how ironic that First Mother was who gave her life. The two grown women talked to each other as if the girl were not there, and silently, she waited, hoping the painful ordeal would soon be over.
"Zoli, look at little Kati," Second Mother said.
First Mother abruptly stopped her ministrations.
"Vare," First Mother said, softly. "Do my eyes deceive me, Tsahru?"
The two women looked at each other for a moment, and then looked at the girl.
First Mother placed her hands on the girl's shoulders.
"Kat'ehri," she said: "Turn around."
Kat'ehri did so. First Mother reached up, and ran her hand down Kat'ehri's chest.
With deft hands, First Mother untied Kat'ehri's sash, and gently (in fact it was the first time all morning she had been gentle) pushed Kat'ehri's ethai'd robe off of her narrow shoulders. Her manual inspection of the girl's body continued.
"Varè," she said. "You're right, Tsahru."
Tsahru - Second Mother - bent her long body toward the small table, and lifted the oil-lamp gently. She brought it over. "Look," she said.
The oil-lamp smelled horrible, and was very hot. First Mother held Kat'ehri's chin in her hands, and lifted it.
Second Mother shook her head.
Second Mother ran her gloved finger down the side of the girl's face. "Her spots are fading. Our husband promised Lord Vardu that there would be a marriage before Kati's spots were gone, before her first blood. We don't have much time," she says. "Perhaps four years."
First Mother pulled Kat'ehri's ethai'd closed, re-wrapped the sash, and smoothed her clothing.
"Contact Clan Zhirador."
"Isn't it early yet?" Second Mother said.
"He'll be in this sector this year. And the next time, in five years. By the time he is around again, her spots will be gone. Look, they are fading already."
Kat'ehri Ardanu'in shut her eyes, for she knew what would happen. She would be given to Lord Vardu d'ar Zhirador, the man to whom she was promised since birth; she would leave her family. She only barely had breasts, and her spots were still dark, but she would be given to Vardu and he would be her husband and lord.
She sucked in her breath, looked at First Mother and Second Mother, and turned, leaving them.
She ran down the cold metal hallways to her room, where she sunk onto her bed.
She undid the fasteners and sash, and removed her ethai'd, hoping she would not be caught.
She lay on the bed, naked to the waist, running her hands over her body. She was small, and her Mothers had always hoped perhaps she would grow taller with age: but Kat'ehri had not grown much taller.
Kat'ehri's hands finally found her chest, and cradled the newly formed signs of her womanhood.
A painful knot formed in her throat, and tears welled in the corner of her eyes.
Once she looked forward to growing up, to being like First and Second Mother. But now she just wanted to be a little girl again.
~
"Stand still, Kati. Raise your arms."
My First Mother is pinning back the folds of the vermilion gown.
"Why is it red, Lehri-dar," I ask her.
"Surely you know," First Mother says.
"I have never been told."
Second Mother lifts her tea bowl to her lips. "Kati, it is red because red is the color of your life's blood. The color of the blood in your womb. It is the gift."
But I have never seen such a thing.
Second Mother says, "Understand this, child. You have a gift that no man will ever have. Red is the color of your blood, and one day it will give life to another life inside of you. That is why this robe is red."
My First Mother is sewing constantly while Second Mother talks and drinks tea.
"Remember the Prophecy, young one?" Second Mother asks me.
"The one who will return to us our Sacred World will wear a cloak red as a woman's wedding robe and he will be a son of House Vareni," I repeat. It rolls off the tip of my tongue, a memorized line of scripture. I think it is from the Eleventh Book, the Book of Exiles.
"Help me with this, Tsahru," First Mother says.
Second Mother finishes her bowl of tea. She wipes the bowl clean with her handkerchief, and sets the bowl, face down, because an empty offering offends the Varen.
She approaches me, and takes over where First Mother left off, while First Mother pours her own bowl of tea.
I am glad Second Mother is working on the robe now, because while it is said that my blood comes from First Mother's womb, Second Mother's touch is so much gentler.
Even with all their ministrations, my body, half girl and half woman, is lost in the billowing folds of patterned red Seleii silk.
~
"Take tea with me, Kati," says Second Mother.
We are alone. Second Mother motions that I sit next to her. She removes the tea bowl from the leather purse hidden within the folds of my cloak, and she removes her own tea bowl from her own purse. She sets the tea decanter on the low table, rich and black. It smells of many things, young green tea from Selein, and of Altikhari red bush and of cinnamon, and of the honey of yellow Moraeli bees. It was many days ago that we prepared this batch, grinding with mortar and pestle and pouring into strong pouches with honey for preservation. It takes several days for the tea to reach the right combination of bitterness and sweetness.
I have always wondered of the worlds our things come from. It is men who know of these things. Maybe Vardu, the man who will be my husband, will tell me. I begin to look forward to my wedding day in the anticipation that my lord will have stories and he will bring me these stories, and he will tell me these stories and bring me gifts from these worlds.
Today it is of women's wisdom, not men's, that Second Mother wishes to tell me of.
The tea bowls, once wiped with a few swabs of our kerchiefs, sit on the table, lip-down.
We hold our hands clasped over our hearts, visualizing the bright light gathered within that hollow place, then our palms, empty, our fingertips touching the lid of the hot metal container. Inside, silently, I thank the Varen for bringing us these spiritual gifts, and for the temporal gifts, I thank my father and brothers.
Our prayers, as always from women's lips, are silent, within the dark and empty places of our hearts.
The tea bowls are now held upright, and we pour the thick, dark liquid into them.
We drink in silence, the liquid infused with the spices of the trade worlds our men have visited, infused with the prayers we have given.
The tea is finished, the cups wiped clean and put away.
"Give me your hands, Kati."
I hold out my gloved hands, and she clasps my small hands in her hands, large and strong. I have always marvelled at the strength in Second Mother's hands, the fingers knobby and calloused.
She takes a deep breath, and she says to me. "You are to be married soon, Kat'ehri."
My hands are shaking. She squeezes them, gently.
"Know this. Vardu is a good man. He has a good reputation as an honest trader. He is very wealthy, honest and very religious but more than that, he is gentle and kind. He will take care of you," she says.
I know this. I have been told of Vardu my entire life, because I was born to be his bride, I am the product of a promise made before I ever took my first breath.
"I can see that you are scared. I must tell you this, perhaps you will be less afraid. He has two wives already. They will share your duties with you, and they are older. They will help you know what to do. You will live with the women until you have your first blood. Then you will meet your husband."
"Wh-why so early," I ask. "I thought- I thought it would be after my first blood."
Second Mother reaches over, and gently brushes a stray lock of hair from my face. "It is because you are beginning to have breasts. When my first blood happened, I was
as you are. You know that you must be married when your first blood happens. Vardu will not be in this sector when that happens, so it must happen now."
I swallow in a dry throat. I am relieved, but only a little. I have looked forward to marriage my entire life, but now all I can think of is that I pray to the Varen that my first blood never comes.
That night, alone in my bed, I realize something that scares me. Second Mother has told me of the man who is to be my husband, how gentle and kind he is. She has told me nothing of the women I will share him with.
~
Music. The blaring of a dorol'na, once, twice. Drinait'thön Voradu has sounded the horn every day for days, in preparation for a festival. In preparation for my wedding.
People mill around me, not noticing I am there. Not noticing I, Kat'ehri Tsehru Ardanu'in, the peace offering to the lord of Clan Zhirador. My name itself means Peace Offering. In long form, Kat'ehri Tsehru is "gift to an enemy". In short form Kati is simply "treasure".
I am a treasure, I was my family's treasure, and now I will be Lord Vardu's.