BEDA Day 20: Getting Some Writing Done

Excerpt from my work today:

Caerwyn sighed. “What are you doing?”

Eila looked up. “I am painting.” She slapped her palm flat against the paint, making a smacking noise. “I am making art.”

Caerwyn shut her eyes and dragged her hand down her face. “Eila. Why do you insist on acting like you’re five years old?”

“You’re jealous,” Eila sang. “You’re jealous because you have to stay up and work and I get to paint.”

“I am many things, but I am not jealous. Not of you.” Caerwyn narrowed her eyes. “Not now. Not ever.”

The tone of her voice caught Eila’s attention. Her hand paused mid-stroke and she looked narrowly over her shoulder at Caerwyn. She said nothing and returned to her painting, a wry smile on her face.

Vaguely disconcerted, Caerwyn sat back in the alcove across from the cell and studied her scuffed boots. Hours passed with no sound but the swishing of Eila’s hand across the burlap and the near-silent splatter of paint. Caerwyn found herself humming softly and picking at the lint on her breeches. She couldn’t place where she’d heard the tune, but it was strangely evocative… She felt a swell in her heart and a smile graced her lips.

She glanced over at Eila and saw the princess staring at her, grinning. “Bravo.”

Caerwyn furrowed her eyebrows. “Beg your pardon?”

“First spell, I imagine,” Eila said, wiping her hands on her shift. “Without words, too. Impressive.”

Caerwyn’s eyes widened. “What…?”

“And apparently subconscious.” Eila picked at a smear of paint on her forehead. “Look at your hair.”

The ends of Caerwyn’s hair were floating about her head, drifting slowly upward. She realized that she’d been humming the tune she’d heard Eila hum in the memory. Instinctively, her hand shot up and snatched it up in a handful, dragging it back down around her shoulders. “How…?”

She glanced over at Eila, who had paused with her hands poised over the linen on the floor, red paint dripping from her fingertips. The princess’s eyebrows were furrowed and she appeared to be thinking. “Curious.”

Caerwyn almost responded, but realized she actually didn’t want to hear what Eila was going to say next. She went back to staring at the wall, silent.

Eila made a vaguely disconcerted noise in the back of her throat and smacked her hand against the wall of her cell. “I know you’re wondering,” she lilted, pressing another handprint onto the stone. “Don’t deny it.”

Caerwyn sighed and turned to watch the princess adorn her cell with red handprints. “I have no objection to you speaking if you so wish,” she said, feigning indifference, “but I couldn’t care less about what you have to say.”

Eila chuckled, her protruding ribs shifting at the action. “Don’t lie to me, Caerwyn, darling. I am not as stupid as you think.”

Caerwyn massaged her temples and sighed. She got up from the bench and walked over to the bars. “I don’t think you’re stupid,” she said.

Eila looked at her over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow.

Caerwyn shrugged. “I don’t think you’re stupid. I do, however, think you’re conceited, arrogant, annoying, barking mad, childish…”

“Childish?” Eila pouted. “That’s unfair.”

Caerwyn crossed her arms across her breastplate and said nothing.

“I hate you,” Eila said, scowling. She returned to her ‘painting.’ Before Caerwyn could reply that she knew that, Eila went on. “And surely you can’t think that magic comes automatically. It’s rough.” She flicked paint at the wall. “The fact that you’re doing it already with hardly any study means that you’re more gifted than I previously anticipated.”

“Meaning…?” Caerwyn asked, against her better judgment.

Eila cackled wryly, wiping her hands against her shift and settling onto her cot. “Because I’d tell you.” Her eyes narrowed. “We’re not friends, Caerwyn. Remember that.” She pulled the threadbare blanket on her cot up over her shoulders. “Put that torch out, would you?”

Total crap, but whatever.

Random update: today I went to a discount book store to try and find the books on my history book list, and of the twenty I needed, I found one.


Obviously they had that one.

I’m slightly annoyed that there’s no Shakespeare on the list this year… I guess I’ll have to do the Shakespeare course myself. 😛

Have a great night. Sleep tight, my darlings.


4 comments on “BEDA Day 20: Getting Some Writing Done

  1. But… your wordcount…!
    I like the excerpt. There are problems, of course, but it isn’t complete rubbish. Just partial rubbish. But you know… All great writing is like scrap art: it starts out as junk and ends up as art. There aren’t too many steps in between the two besides taking it apart and gluing it back together. Just think of all the nights of editing you have ahead of you, Hero; this will be great! After a lot of work. But it’ll be great!

  2. Julia Byers says:

    Well, *I* love it. When do I get to read more?

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