|
Post by Avive de Rocaille on Feb 9, 2008 17:15:52 GMT -5
I looked at him. "Not yet," I replied. "Someday though."
|
|
|
Post by Walid bin Kasseem(D) on Feb 10, 2008 11:00:04 GMT -5
“Of course,” I replied amiably. I had no intention of pressuring her – the Gods of the Desert knew, I had my share of searing memories that I felt no immediate desire to expose. I couldn’t help but spare a thought for Mercedes, suddenly. I ached still a little for it, as one does when mourning for what could have been, but never will be.
“We all get burned eventually,” I added quietly, understandingly.
|
|
|
Post by Avive de Rocaille on Feb 10, 2008 23:00:03 GMT -5
"Yes," I agreed hastily. "But then, if we are lucky, someone comes with some cool water for our burns, figuratively speaking."
|
|
|
Post by Walid bin Kasseem(D) on Feb 11, 2008 1:55:52 GMT -5
“Or some salve,” I added with a humorous grin. “You know, my middle name is Lucky, Avive,” I added, smiling wide. It wasn’t even a joke. I was completely serious, though the poetry of the double meaning did please me immensely.
|
|
|
Post by Avive de Rocaille on Feb 11, 2008 14:36:53 GMT -5
I laughed. "I am starting to believe that all of your middle names are compliments," I said. "Lucky, handsome, wealthy, generous..."
|
|
|
Post by Walid bin Kasseem(D) on Feb 11, 2008 15:28:18 GMT -5
“Not exactly,” I replied with a doctoral stance. “You see, in my country, names are given according to traits that the newborn is expected, or hoped to acquire. My full name is,” I took a deep breath, knowing only the Ruskovians so far had not been taken aback with its length, “Walid Habib Mas’ud bin Kaseem El Kadar Al-Wahed, and it means the Lucky and Beloved Newborn, son of the powerful sharing divider without compare.”
I gave her a smile, and added, “But I sure hope to be found handsome and generous, even if it wasn’t on my original list…”
|
|
|
Post by Avive de Rocaille on Feb 11, 2008 20:01:34 GMT -5
"I have certainly found you thus," I said. "My name, Avive, comes from the Habiru word for spring, but also the D'Angeline word for life."
|
|
|
Post by Walid bin Kasseem(D) on Feb 12, 2008 12:27:13 GMT -5
“It is lovely,” I replied after I’d swallowed a sip of wine. “Spring is the season of life,” I mused. “Perhaps there is a connection between Habiru and D’Angeline… I toyed, thinking. “In my languate, there is a name that carries this meaning as well, that of life. Aicha,” I said, letting it roll off my tongue. It was a name I liked a great deal, for its soft sounds and singing consonants.
|
|
|
Post by Avive de Rocaille on Feb 12, 2008 23:12:33 GMT -5
"I am not sure," I said. "I think it's just a coincidence. D'Angeline is related to Caerdicci, but Habiru is a completely different language group. 'Aviv' is spring, 'Vive' is live, it looks like a combination of the two."
|
|
|
Post by Walid bin Kasseem(D) on Feb 13, 2008 16:15:38 GMT -5
I shrugged, not willing to bother with the argument. “I would still believe there are influences, Avive,” I said at length. “The Habiru and the D’Angeline share too much of a common history to be so segregated – even if today, their customs differ greatly. There are Yeshuites in Ummayyatt as well,” I added, thoughtfully, “and we are finding surprising commonalities with them.”
|
|
|
Post by Avive de Rocaille on Feb 16, 2008 1:45:28 GMT -5
"Is that true?" I asked. "The Yeshuites here keep to themselves; are the Umaiyyati Yeshuites the same way?"
|
|
|
Post by Walid bin Kasseem(D) on Feb 16, 2008 17:36:07 GMT -5
“Yes, they are,” I replied with a nod, remembering my one encounter with a Yeshuite… who in retrospect was quite unconventional. “We live in similar ways, for many reasons, and even inter-marry at times. They are more stern, I think, for some things, than Ummayyattis are, though I believe D’Angeline eyes would perhaps mistake our ways at times…” I sighed. We also got mistaken for Akkadians, which was something I truly despised.
|
|
|
Post by Avive de Rocaille on Feb 18, 2008 22:23:54 GMT -5
"Oh my," I said. "The Yeshuites here hardly ever intermarry, for fear of ostracism. They take wedding within their community very seriously." Privately I wondered if Walid was also intending to marry a woman of his own country, but I didn't ask.
|
|
|
Post by Walid bin Kasseem(D) on Feb 18, 2008 22:59:22 GMT -5
“Marriage is a serious affair,” I replied with a sigh, for I knew it all too well. “And we do in fact worship the One God, which may be why it is easier for such things to occur. Once one agrees that the name is only a slight difference, for we call him He-Who-Has-No-Name, it is more easily understood.”
Curious, I cocked my head to the side, and asked, “But do tell of the Yeshuites here. Are you very familiar with their community?”
|
|
|
Post by Avive de Rocaille on Feb 20, 2008 20:03:18 GMT -5
"Only from what I know from books," I said, "and what the Yeshuite doctor says. They are not very well integrated into mainstream society, but there are a few who are."
|
|
|
Post by Walid bin Kasseem(D) on Feb 20, 2008 23:21:57 GMT -5
I nodded, “I would guess so,” I replied thoughtfully. “I met one, from Terre d’Ange, some four years ago, in Ephesus.” I dug in my memory a moment, seeking it out, finally remembering with a flash of clarity. “Rannan de Fournier!” I exclaimed enthusiastically. “He did seem quite well integrated into the flow of things. Hmm… I wonder what he became,” I added after a while. I’d liked the man.
|
|
|
Post by Avive de Rocaille on Feb 22, 2008 10:50:29 GMT -5
"Fournier, did you say?" I asked. "The same Rannan de Fournier who owns a vineyard in Siovale?"
|
|
|
Post by Walid bin Kasseem(D) on Feb 23, 2008 12:45:05 GMT -5
I made a non-committal gesture of doubtful ignorance. I didn’t know about the vineyards, but that was the name. I gave her a startled look of pleasant surprise. “Do you happen to know him?” I asked eagerly.
|
|
|
Post by Avive de Rocaille on Feb 29, 2008 15:19:09 GMT -5
"No, but I know the wine," I said. "He is a wonderful vintner; his vineyards are some of the best in Siovale."
|
|
|
Post by Walid bin Kasseem(D) on Feb 29, 2008 17:20:50 GMT -5
“Is that so?” I replied, smiling. “I’ll have to look him up, then,” I considered. “I liked him, back then – someone whom I could have befriended, that Ayd,” I said absently, twirling my glass nonchalantly.
|
|
|
Post by Avive de Rocaille on Mar 4, 2008 18:59:42 GMT -5
"That is good," I said. "Perhaps if you take a trip to Siovale, you will visit the vineyards themselves and see your friend again."
|
|
|
Post by Walid bin Kasseem(D) on Mar 7, 2008 14:49:03 GMT -5
“Why not?” I asked with an open smile. “You did have a wish to show me your homeland, did you not?”
I was done with the food, though it was excellent, and gave my quiet thanks to the gods of the desert and the mighty One God for the luxury lavished on us, before I added, “This food was truly wonderful.”
|
|
|
Post by Avive de Rocaille on Mar 12, 2008 17:05:57 GMT -5
"I am glad you enjoyed it," I said. "There is still dessert to come." This last I said with a wink.
|
|
|
Post by Walid bin Kasseem(D) on Mar 13, 2008 5:51:40 GMT -5
“Oh, is there?” I replied, leaning over my glass of wine, which I had been nursing somewhat, and grinning rakishly. “And I wonder how sweet it is. I have a fondness for sweets, you know…”
|
|
|
Post by Avive de Rocaille on Mar 13, 2008 16:11:39 GMT -5
I giggled, blushing a deep crimson. As if on cue, Bonne walked in with two small fruit tortes, which she laid in front of us before clearing away our meal. "I hope you like fruit," I said, picking up my dessert fork.
|
|
|
Post by Walid bin Kasseem(D) on Mar 14, 2008 11:00:08 GMT -5
“I do,” I replied, nodding regally at the maid who served us with elegant, modest gestures. As she was still around, I simply looked at Avive, and added, “amongst other things.” Yes, I liked fruit. Preferably a trail of them on soft, milky, feminine skin.
|
|
|
Post by Avive de Rocaille on Mar 15, 2008 11:14:21 GMT -5
Bonne excused herself back to the kitchen and I took a bite of the torte. Crisp crust, creamy pudding and sweet fruit cam together delightfully and I swallowed. "Try it," I said, "it is delicious." The tension in the air was heavy, and I felt almost light-headed from it.
|
|
|
Post by Walid bin Kasseem(D) on Mar 15, 2008 13:33:12 GMT -5
I didn’t wait very long to dig into the dessert with all the elegance and class I could muster with the D’Angeline cutlery. It was indeed quite good, and I smiled. “Indeed,” I said with a teasing grin that was almost guilty. “It bodes well.”
No doubt she was as sweet as the dessert. I’d take things slowly, though – even if she was mature for her age, I was mindful of her young experience. I had no desire to scar her – if anything, whatever we shared should be for the best. Fabricating happy memories, I decided.
|
|
|
Post by Avive de Rocaille on Mar 17, 2008 0:55:13 GMT -5
"Bodes well for what?" I asked.
|
|
|
Post by Walid bin Kasseem(D) on Mar 17, 2008 16:27:16 GMT -5
“For my appreciation of D’Angeline desserts,” I replied with a guilty grin. “Don’t you remember Desir?” Don’t you remember the desire?
I was tempted to add that the fruit would be all the sweeter on her lips, and saved it. I had opted to tread lightly, and so I would.
|
|