Skikudis Orbb
02-26-2007, 10:07 AM
The afternoon sun filtered its way through wooden slats covering the teahouses window; a frail woman with pale features watched the play of spilled light across her table in the afternoons lull.
The womans face perched atop thin neck was plain, almost unrecognizable from the millions of faces which passed through life in Tanvu. In fact it was a very normal face with a smattering of curious imperfections. A mouth far too wide for such a daggers sharp chin, golden eyes a touch too hungry to be called beaten gold; more like the wolf on a nightly hunt, brows arched a touch too high. They were white, her brows, as was the long hair braided loosely to keep it from hanging in her eyes. Tendrils of it still rebelled against her careful braiding, swirled in the air as she lifted her head to gaze finally to the other occupying her table with her.
No, she was not beautiful. But like many she had something...some thing which was hers and hers alone that burned and called the eyes to take a second look.
Or perhaps that was simply the opinion of the man seated across from her, his dark, wide fingers also encircling a cup of tea. Though in his hands, the porcelain looked far more minuscule and dainty.
He was a complete contrast to the woman seated across from him, his robes splashed here and there with vibrant color and his hair was dark as spilled ink. His eyes were the color of storm clouds along the horizon and they sparkled bright with laughter. While it seemed that he might at any moment laugh, she only curled her mouth slightly from time to time, indicating what one might guess as a biting, dry wit.
Lao’jin and Ra’jin personified or so a passing observer might say.
As the woman lowered eyelashes to a small slip of paper on the table between the two her fingers released the tea and she touched the parchment...If one did not know any better; they would have assumed it was a caress of it.
They did this near everyday, like clockwork.
Kainhi, one of the young women who worked within the teahouse was wiping down the table three to the right of theirs when the woman spoke.
"It is not bad, this one. But the last stanza, if I might point out, seems strained."
The woman had a rich contralto as opposed to the sweet, high harmonious tones highborn ladies trained themselves to use. Kainhi assumed she spoke on the poetry they were exchanging and continued cleaning her tables.
"Ah," said the man with a voice that rumble tumbled like rocks in a slide. He lifted his hand to carefully stroke at the fine sheen of ebony mustache thoughtfully. "Do you think it so, then? Perhaps I should rework it?"
The woman with the yellow eyes listened to him with the attentiveness that was correct and polite, at the same time she folded the piece of parchment then tucked it into her sleeve. After a moment, she canted her head a tiny bit in affirmative.
"You might wish to consider such a thing, yes." Kainhi swore that the woman sounded highly amused.
The man’s hand paused over his mouth as if to hide a smile yet the corners of his eyes crinkled too obviously, giving it away.
"As you wish," he finally grumbled, tucking his hands within the voluminous sleeves of his bright blue robe, he arose. As he arose so too did the woman who came around the table from stand from her chair to pause beside him. He paused to look down upon the woman whilst she looked up at him.
They stood like this for perhaps many moments speaking in a language only the two of them could truly understand. Birds chirped, the sunlight moved as time passed, people's voices came and went yet the two of them seemed unmoved by any of it as if some sort of spell was cast over the two.
Numerous ticks of the heart later, the woman tilted her head slowly then nodded, breaking the spell. Reaching up with pale, long fingers she tucked a hand under his arm and the two of them swept out into the brightly lit courtyard.
-------------
Kainhi had not noticed it at first through out the day. It had been busy but now that a lull had finally settled her eyes caught sight of a small folded piece of parchment beneath a table.
Ah, she thought, this must have been the poem the man wrote earlier for the yellow-eyed woman.
Bending down to pluck it up, Kainhi convinced herself it was simply to hold onto it for when they returned. Not so that she could unfold it carefully, hold it up to the nearest candle, and squint to read was written with in it.
As Kainhi read, her eyes went wide, then narrowed and finally, her entire face wrinkled upward as if biting into rotten fruit. For a moment one of the other cleaning girls passing by her thought Kainhi would spit. All until the girl threw back her head and began to laugh uproariously.
---------------------
My darling wife.
I have finally been able to capture my love for you in words. In this simple poem, I sum up my heart as best as I can.
Violets are blue
roses are red
sugar is lumpy
and so is your head.
Love,
Merrus
The womans face perched atop thin neck was plain, almost unrecognizable from the millions of faces which passed through life in Tanvu. In fact it was a very normal face with a smattering of curious imperfections. A mouth far too wide for such a daggers sharp chin, golden eyes a touch too hungry to be called beaten gold; more like the wolf on a nightly hunt, brows arched a touch too high. They were white, her brows, as was the long hair braided loosely to keep it from hanging in her eyes. Tendrils of it still rebelled against her careful braiding, swirled in the air as she lifted her head to gaze finally to the other occupying her table with her.
No, she was not beautiful. But like many she had something...some thing which was hers and hers alone that burned and called the eyes to take a second look.
Or perhaps that was simply the opinion of the man seated across from her, his dark, wide fingers also encircling a cup of tea. Though in his hands, the porcelain looked far more minuscule and dainty.
He was a complete contrast to the woman seated across from him, his robes splashed here and there with vibrant color and his hair was dark as spilled ink. His eyes were the color of storm clouds along the horizon and they sparkled bright with laughter. While it seemed that he might at any moment laugh, she only curled her mouth slightly from time to time, indicating what one might guess as a biting, dry wit.
Lao’jin and Ra’jin personified or so a passing observer might say.
As the woman lowered eyelashes to a small slip of paper on the table between the two her fingers released the tea and she touched the parchment...If one did not know any better; they would have assumed it was a caress of it.
They did this near everyday, like clockwork.
Kainhi, one of the young women who worked within the teahouse was wiping down the table three to the right of theirs when the woman spoke.
"It is not bad, this one. But the last stanza, if I might point out, seems strained."
The woman had a rich contralto as opposed to the sweet, high harmonious tones highborn ladies trained themselves to use. Kainhi assumed she spoke on the poetry they were exchanging and continued cleaning her tables.
"Ah," said the man with a voice that rumble tumbled like rocks in a slide. He lifted his hand to carefully stroke at the fine sheen of ebony mustache thoughtfully. "Do you think it so, then? Perhaps I should rework it?"
The woman with the yellow eyes listened to him with the attentiveness that was correct and polite, at the same time she folded the piece of parchment then tucked it into her sleeve. After a moment, she canted her head a tiny bit in affirmative.
"You might wish to consider such a thing, yes." Kainhi swore that the woman sounded highly amused.
The man’s hand paused over his mouth as if to hide a smile yet the corners of his eyes crinkled too obviously, giving it away.
"As you wish," he finally grumbled, tucking his hands within the voluminous sleeves of his bright blue robe, he arose. As he arose so too did the woman who came around the table from stand from her chair to pause beside him. He paused to look down upon the woman whilst she looked up at him.
They stood like this for perhaps many moments speaking in a language only the two of them could truly understand. Birds chirped, the sunlight moved as time passed, people's voices came and went yet the two of them seemed unmoved by any of it as if some sort of spell was cast over the two.
Numerous ticks of the heart later, the woman tilted her head slowly then nodded, breaking the spell. Reaching up with pale, long fingers she tucked a hand under his arm and the two of them swept out into the brightly lit courtyard.
-------------
Kainhi had not noticed it at first through out the day. It had been busy but now that a lull had finally settled her eyes caught sight of a small folded piece of parchment beneath a table.
Ah, she thought, this must have been the poem the man wrote earlier for the yellow-eyed woman.
Bending down to pluck it up, Kainhi convinced herself it was simply to hold onto it for when they returned. Not so that she could unfold it carefully, hold it up to the nearest candle, and squint to read was written with in it.
As Kainhi read, her eyes went wide, then narrowed and finally, her entire face wrinkled upward as if biting into rotten fruit. For a moment one of the other cleaning girls passing by her thought Kainhi would spit. All until the girl threw back her head and began to laugh uproariously.
---------------------
My darling wife.
I have finally been able to capture my love for you in words. In this simple poem, I sum up my heart as best as I can.
Violets are blue
roses are red
sugar is lumpy
and so is your head.
Love,
Merrus