The Thousandth Night: The Sixth Day
Title: The Thousandth Night
Fandom: Original Fiction
Pairing: Original characters
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Reader, I take you to a sun soaked land ‘cross oceans, mountains and deserts of sand. Through the bazaar where rare wonders are sold to a man upon a throne of pure gold. With graven face he ponders kingly cares. Who among his wives shall carry the heir?
The Sixth Day
The sultan headed down the steep marble stairs into the harem. He had decided the winner of the contest, and now only had to announce the result to his wives. However, something nagged at him, gnawing inwardly at his mind. He dismissed it, sure that he had made the right choice. His children were all clustered around a fountain where a slave was telling them another story. They seemed enraptured by it. Takiyah and Hani sat together, holding hands while Tamam held his baby sister Haruah. The twins, for once, were not squabbling, much to the relief of Reda, and even Khoya put down his quill and paper to listen. The sultan walked up next to Haruah’s wet nurse, Kadin. “What is going on?”
“Inara is telling them a story, your highness,” Kadin replied, still listening with half an ear. “Their mothers are in the baths, so it is left to us to entertain the children. Inara is such a wonderful storyteller. You should hear some of the stories she creates for them.”
“ . . . while the evil witch sat on her magic carpet, shrieking at the city below, Rimonah quickly ran up to the tower where the witch practiced her magic. She found the magic bowl that so many times had betrayed her to the evil queen and hurled it out the tower window at the witch,” the storyteller paused for a few moments to make sure the children were properly baited and hooked. “The bowl smashed to a million pieces on the cobblestones below, and with it gone, the queen lost all of her magic. The carpet shredded into tiny fragments of thread, sending the evil witch plummeting down to her doom.”
The sultan could not help but be caught in the slave’s story as much as the children were. She wove her words with the same skill and dexterity as some weave wool, but her result was entirely heard and not seen. Upon closer inspection, the sultan found the storyteller quite as lovely as her stories. Her face was kind, with eyes of a nearly liquid brown color and long hair covered by a veil. She wore the simple dress of a harem slave, with a single ornament resting on her forehead, and golden armbands marking her as property. Anyone could clearly see that she was not born into slavery, but probably sold later in her life, for she still had the posture and voice of one free. She laughed when her story was finished and Hani climbed in her lap, Takiyah still by her side, both demanding to hear another tale. Tamam looked up from where he was playing with Haruah and joined their plea. The twins and Khoya were quickly convinced to add their voices to the rabble. The storyteller held up her hands in mock surrender. “You all win!” she said, laughing. “Would you like to hear the story of a king and his court?”
“What does the lord do?” Hikal piped up.
“Well, he makes decisions with his grand vizier, talks to the royal guards and makes sure that the people and nobles are happy, but that isn’t what this story is about. One day, a strange person comes to the kingdom,” the storyteller continued talking until the women came out of the baths, ready to collect their children.
Xanthe gave the slave a grateful smile. “Thank you for telling them stories again, Inara. They always love your tales the best.”
Inara gave a bow and a slight smile back, quickly leaving the fountain to return to her normal duties.
“Husband?” Li Hua noticed the sultan’s presence there. “Was there something you wished to speak to us about?”
The sultan collected himself. “Yes. I would like one more day to think about your stories and decide who is worthy. I hope none of you are too disappointed by the wait.”
The women shook their heads. “Take as much time as you need,” Ahmar murmured, shifting Haruah in her arms.
However, all that night and through the next day, the sultan could think of no other stories than those of the slave girl, Inara. That evening, he sent Jabir to find her.
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Fandom: Original Fiction
Pairing: Original characters
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Reader, I take you to a sun soaked land ‘cross oceans, mountains and deserts of sand. Through the bazaar where rare wonders are sold to a man upon a throne of pure gold. With graven face he ponders kingly cares. Who among his wives shall carry the heir?
The Sixth Day
The sultan headed down the steep marble stairs into the harem. He had decided the winner of the contest, and now only had to announce the result to his wives. However, something nagged at him, gnawing inwardly at his mind. He dismissed it, sure that he had made the right choice. His children were all clustered around a fountain where a slave was telling them another story. They seemed enraptured by it. Takiyah and Hani sat together, holding hands while Tamam held his baby sister Haruah. The twins, for once, were not squabbling, much to the relief of Reda, and even Khoya put down his quill and paper to listen. The sultan walked up next to Haruah’s wet nurse, Kadin. “What is going on?”
“Inara is telling them a story, your highness,” Kadin replied, still listening with half an ear. “Their mothers are in the baths, so it is left to us to entertain the children. Inara is such a wonderful storyteller. You should hear some of the stories she creates for them.”
“ . . . while the evil witch sat on her magic carpet, shrieking at the city below, Rimonah quickly ran up to the tower where the witch practiced her magic. She found the magic bowl that so many times had betrayed her to the evil queen and hurled it out the tower window at the witch,” the storyteller paused for a few moments to make sure the children were properly baited and hooked. “The bowl smashed to a million pieces on the cobblestones below, and with it gone, the queen lost all of her magic. The carpet shredded into tiny fragments of thread, sending the evil witch plummeting down to her doom.”
The sultan could not help but be caught in the slave’s story as much as the children were. She wove her words with the same skill and dexterity as some weave wool, but her result was entirely heard and not seen. Upon closer inspection, the sultan found the storyteller quite as lovely as her stories. Her face was kind, with eyes of a nearly liquid brown color and long hair covered by a veil. She wore the simple dress of a harem slave, with a single ornament resting on her forehead, and golden armbands marking her as property. Anyone could clearly see that she was not born into slavery, but probably sold later in her life, for she still had the posture and voice of one free. She laughed when her story was finished and Hani climbed in her lap, Takiyah still by her side, both demanding to hear another tale. Tamam looked up from where he was playing with Haruah and joined their plea. The twins and Khoya were quickly convinced to add their voices to the rabble. The storyteller held up her hands in mock surrender. “You all win!” she said, laughing. “Would you like to hear the story of a king and his court?”
“What does the lord do?” Hikal piped up.
“Well, he makes decisions with his grand vizier, talks to the royal guards and makes sure that the people and nobles are happy, but that isn’t what this story is about. One day, a strange person comes to the kingdom,” the storyteller continued talking until the women came out of the baths, ready to collect their children.
Xanthe gave the slave a grateful smile. “Thank you for telling them stories again, Inara. They always love your tales the best.”
Inara gave a bow and a slight smile back, quickly leaving the fountain to return to her normal duties.
“Husband?” Li Hua noticed the sultan’s presence there. “Was there something you wished to speak to us about?”
The sultan collected himself. “Yes. I would like one more day to think about your stories and decide who is worthy. I hope none of you are too disappointed by the wait.”
The women shook their heads. “Take as much time as you need,” Ahmar murmured, shifting Haruah in her arms.
However, all that night and through the next day, the sultan could think of no other stories than those of the slave girl, Inara. That evening, he sent Jabir to find her.
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