Blood · Lily

Draft version, but it provides a bridge between this book and the second one, and we start with a character we know rather than one we don't. I need to make it less infodump-y, I think, maybe just pull the "what Elata's been up to for three centuries" thing down to one paragraph.

So, you know, draft. But I like it.

( A shadow fell between the lamp and the page Elata was making notes on... )

230,132 words. 13 months of my life. And a story that was generally an honest pleasure to tell.

The first draft of The Ice Rose is finished!

The cold hand stroked his hair gently. "I am still angry with you, child. You could have prevented this. So here is your punishment: you will never again forget her. No matter how long you live, you will remember her, and when you die, your last thoughts will be of her and how you lost her. Goodbye, Mordred. Serve Me well."

Then she was gone, and Mordred was alone except for the sword. He did not move, but tears trickled from his eyes as he thought about the loving cruelty of the goddess who he served with his entire soul.

He thought about his granddaughter, who had been lost to the darkness, and he grieved.

Chapter Ten: The House of Cold Stone and Chapter Eleven: To Sail You Home have been posted! And with that, the first draft of the book is done!

It wasn't exactly the book I thought I would be writing...but when are they ever?

Yes, I'm still working on the book. I'm actually most of the way through the last chapter, visiting a number of the characters and wrapping up a bunch of loose ends. I haven't decided if I like something I'm currently doing, so i may take some time to revise it. I think i'm currently writing what will be the the very last bit; i have at least one and maybe two sections to go before this one. But Elata got annoyed that I wasn't writing her--little diva that she is--so i'm working on wrapping up her story now before I wrap up Sorcha, Juri, and Tennant, and put a bow on the book.

Speaking of, I've been listening to Vienna Teng a lot lately, and I've discovered a new song for Morgan.

( Vienna Teng, My Medea )

I know i've been quiet, but that's because I've been busy writing. Chapter 10's done except for the final readthrough, and Chapter 11 is well-started. Chapter 11 is my loose-ends-tying chapter; I'm working on what I hope will be a very amusing exchange between Seraphim and Arcanis, as they take a break from fighting. I *think* that's going to be the last chapter, it feels like this is where the book wants to end.

I'm pleased with Chapter 10, really. It stays with Elata the whole time, which is a pleasant change from keeping track of six different people in different locations. Good practice for editing The Blood Lily, which is one of the next things i'm going to do. I even know where i'm going to start the new version, a place that short-circuits all of the places I hate in the first four chapters. I have some world-work to do, as i'm going to remove some of the last traces of other people's intellectual property (drow are the property of Wizards of the Coast, sigh), and i'm going to rename a few characters.

Should be fun work, and at the end I think i'm going to have a book i'm happy with. Then I'll go back and edit *this* one. Eventually. Maybe after i finish the Victoria book.

...not by a long shot.

I could tell that the weeping and wailing was about to begin again, and called it quits on the book until such time as I could devote enough time to it so I could keep the writing moving through the weeping and wailing section.

Miraculously, over the last couple of days, I have. I've been pouring out the events of one day into the chapter's file, and surprisingly enough, it's working. It's really, really working. There's very little I write that I am thinking as I write it, "This is not half bad, not half bad at all," but this is one of those things. Writing has its rewards, and one of them is that moment when everything begins to pull together, when you finally understand what you were doing way back in Chapter Three, when you were putting in character fillips that were slightly baffling at the time.

I am awed one last time by Cainnec, and sad that I won't get to write him any more. I am grieving right along with Elata, and feeling a vast sympathy for Neus, who is devastated by her father's death but cannot show it.

And so the events are spiraling downward to the end, and I've found a few places to emphasize that there is still light in the darkness. It might be faint, but it's there.

They walked towards Beatrice, and it was then that she realized why a chill of fear had touched her the moment that she heard Jonas's voice. It was not her father who walked in that body. And why did Cicely have that look in her eyes?

She took a step back. "What?" She held her son closer to her chest, and Kiranth began to scream, feeling his mother's fear. "What do you have to tell me?"

Jonas took two long steps toward her. "Put Kiranth down, Beatrice, and we can discuss it."

He was too close to Beatrice, and her nerve broke. Silently, she whirled and began to run.

Chapter Eight: The Stars' Choir Vanished (password required, check in back posts)

This is a rough one. Three or four more chapters to go, I think; the next chapter's going to be nearly as rough, and then we get some good stuff happening.

And, surprisingly, it's short. Only about 12k words, but some of the most difficult 12k words I've written in some time. Once I got everything lined up, it went pretty quickly, but it's a pretty draining chapter overall. I keep reading it over and wanting to makw it go longer, but it's just what it is. There's a time jump between this chapter and the next one.

Next chapter is the setup for Hastings, and that's going to be a brutal chapter as well. I have a couple of ideas for lights in the darkness, though. There needs to be a little bit of hope, at least, to carry through till the next book.

Anyway, it should be posted later this week.

She reached out and picked up the figure of Morrigan. "Can you hear me?" she murmured. "Ender of all things, I need a favor. I need you to hold your gift back from Cainnec. For a while. A few years. I can't lose him just yet."

She looked down at the figure and traced the edge of the axe. She felt very silly, and profoundly selfish. Who was she to say that it wasn't Cainnec's time to die? One of the things she remembered from her childhood religious training was that death had its own season, and every mortal being had its time. It was why Morrigan was not a popular goddess among the elves.

But, oh, her heart hurt. She wanted to say, send me something, send me a sign that you're listening, but she forbore.

Chapter Seven: Old Sins and Interlude: The River God's Weapon.

Note that password information can be found a few posts back.

I think chapter 7 is actually done. As in, the story's reached a resting place, a place where everyone gets to take a little breath. I've got maybe another three paragraphs to write and a bunch of editing to do, but whoa.

Looking ahead, the next chapter's going to be long, but this one's short (about 16k words) and largely focuses in on Scotland. We get to say goodbye to Elata for a little bit and go spend some time with Aru and then Marcus. I had a subplot in mind for Aru, but i think i'm going to drop it for a slightly more streamlined story here. I have a scene in mind to showcase exactly how bad Aru's temper can get even without severe provocation, and then a message gets delivered and everything goes all to hell.

This is going to be fun.

I'm about halfway through the chapter, and I thought I'd share with you all a smidge of what I'm working on.

I've mentioned before that I like Selket. It's still true. However, this is the chapter that's going to make me adore Mordred. He is going to be such fun to break.

( Here follow spoilers, if you care about that sort of thing. Also, very first draft, but it'll give you a feeling for what's going on in this chapter. )

I am on a writing roll at the moment, and this chapter is unfolding very nicely indeed. I am doing just the worst thing imaginable to Elata, though. Poor thing. Out for a ride and who shows up but her grandfather...who doesn't boher to lie about the fact that he, yes, did kill her parents. He offers to make it up to her by bringing her to the palace of Versailles. Elata's a smart cookie, and isn't buying it...but Mordred's just begun to work.

The problem is that Elata really does love her grandfather, and Mordred genuinely loves her. With Cainnec dying and her place in Mey becoming a bit tenuous, once she has a chance to get over her anger and shock, she's going to be truly tempted.

And the decision she makes will make a huge difference in how things go. Because if she decides to go with Mordred, he'll have a reason to resist Balmung's wiles and his mother's insanity. Without her he doesn't have any reason not to just let go and become what his mother wants him to be.

I am actually seriously tempted to have her go with him. At the beginning of the second book, Elata's been missing for three centuries. I was assuming she'd spent the time in Ireland. What if she was on the Continent...in Versailles? She has ties to both Epona and Morrigan at this point, and she doesn't have to spend the entire time in Versailles.

It's certianly an idea. I'll have to work on it some more.

I mentioned before that Chapter Six had a bit that made me uncomfortable to write in it. I decided to leave it in, as it becomes a bit of characterization that's important later.

Those of you who've read the chapter will have to guess which bit weirded me out, though. I'm not telling. :)

Beatrice gasped, and she pulled Kiranth a little closer to her. The baby, almost asleep, gave a gurgle of protest. "Why? Dear goddess. All those people, all of those towns that we're going to abandon. Where are the priests going to go?"

He was rubbing his temples, his forehead creased. "Some will go to Scotland, the rest will be taking passage to Ireland to found a new Temple there. The announcement will be made tomorrow, but we will be waiting for a signal before we actually pull out. Bernat has a message he wants to send, and it needs to come at the right moment."

"What message?"

"That the Goddess has forsaken England, and her kings."

Chapter Six: Old Sins

(password information will be posted friends-only after this entry.)

The reproach on your daughter's most beautiful face
made me wonder just how she could know
of that something that happened between you and me
so much more than a long time ago

Her mother, I can see, lives within her still
cause she looked at me with her eyes
though I had only just met her right then
I feel that she peeled back my guilty disguise

Ah, Kerrither. When i get her talking, I can't get her to shut up. What made her decide to unburden her heart to a young elf who's grieving, herself, I'm not entirely certian. But she's been talking, and the story she has to tell is very, very interesting. a smidge sordid, but everyday life sometimes is.

The chapter's almost done, i think. I need to finish this conversation, and then give Mordred a little push. I'm having dinner with a friend tonight and then going away with Graham this weekend, so there will probably be a new chapter sometime at the beginning of next week. Finally!

Hey, I've just set up a new Yahoo group to be a notify list for the novel. (I'm about to password the majority of the site, so i need a way to tell non-LJ users what the password is.)

Could someone with a Yahoo ID hit http://groups.yahoo.com/group/twilightcycle/ and join the list? You should recieve a second email once you join that has the login and password in it.

I finally have some sort of forward motion going on the book again. Straberon was sulking there for a while, claiming that I didn't love her any more. I finally got her to cooperate by telling her that she got to cause trouble in the scene I was writing, only a few paragraps away.

I'm done with aru and Beatrice for the moment and back to Elata and Cainnec. Poor thing, this chapter is going to be very hard on her overall.

But, yes, momentum. i'm really hoping to get a lot done this week, maybe even a finished chapter, we'll see.

I kind of took a couple of weeks off from the book while I was moving and while my life was extremely stressful. It's gotten better and I'm making an attempt to get back in the saddle. I've managed to find my way (after a very sweet little interlude with Beatrice and Aru) to the scene where Straberon is actually introduced. This is getting all sorts of interesting reactions from Beatrice. Ah, denial. I love it. And, of course, Straberon knows exactly what's going on, because she's a goddess under that mercenary skin. (Plus, Armand did mention her. Repeatedly.)

Armand and Straberon's semi-relationship is in the middle of dying a slow and somewhat painful death. Straberon's pretty much moved on at this point, but for reasons of her own keeps coming back on occasion. (Just because one is a goddess does not mean one can't do stupid things with one's personal life.) This is going to be an interestingly tense scene, I think.

I haven't decided yet if Aru and Armand are going to meet and have one last conversation before everything explodes. When he was telling the story to Callas, he seemed to indicate that they hadn't, but Armand's perceptions of things had changed in the three centuries it had been since the events of 1066.

Cainnec's late wife's name was Faen. Faen was something very, very rare among dragons: a twin. She was the first-born, and her sister Fand was the second.

Though the two were very alike physically, in personality they were very different. Faen was a level-headed, sensible dragon who tended to be a bit of a homebody, and had a wicked intelligence and an occasionally savage sense of humor. Fand was adventurous and daring, flighty as a butterfly, and genuinely gentle. Their small forms were both dark-haired women who looked nearly identical, both equally lovely.

Fand struck up a friendship with Queen Tef of the Fey when she was very young. Faen was less willing to be friends with the strange Queen, though she occasionally accompanied her sister on her trips into the Tuatha. It was there that Fand met an ageless, scarred man named Cúchulainn--who was born Talis. Fand fell deeply in love with Cúchulainn, and for a time it seemed that the warrior returned her affection.

But there was a complication, as there always is. Cúchulainn already had both a wife--he was married to a mortal woman named Emer. Emer, when she found out that her husband had given his heart away to another woman, was devastated. She refused to eat or drink until her husband came back to her.

Fand was moved by Emer's plight. Though Faen argued with her that if she wanted Cúchulainn, she should take him and the human woman be damned, Fand decided to give up Cúchulainn, telling him to go back to his wife and forget about her. He refused, and the two argued long into the night and then the next day.

Faen fled the argument and went for a long walk in the hills. There she met a woman she did not recognize--tall, with black hair and bright green eyes. When the woman asked Faen, "Why are you walking out on the hills alone?" Faen replied, "Because my sister is sick from love and too soft-hearted to do anything about it.”

The woman encouraged her to tell the whole story. When Faen had finished, the green-eyed woman pursed her lips. “I may be able to help. One moment.” She knelt and put her fingers into a nearby stream, saying, “Sister, your chosen has gotten himself into trouble again.”

A figure rose from the water, a woman seemingly made from water. Faen retold the story, and the water-woman nodded. “Cúchulainn I can deal with. But your sister may not like what I do.” Without waiting for a reply, the water-woman dissolved, and Faen was left standing staring at the emptiness.

“Go home,” said the green-eyed woman. “Shannon will take care of it.”

Faen did so. But a few days passed, and her sister did not return home. Faen went into the Tuatha, looking for her. “It is terrible!” burst out Fand when she saw her sister. “He has forgotten me!”

Cúchulainn and Fand had been arguing, both of their voices growing hoarse with shouting. A woman had stepped between them, one with dandion-bright hair and a dark look on her face. Cúchulainn had not seen the woman, but Fand recoiled, asking, “Who are you?”

“The one who is about to solve this problem of yours.” The woman took off her cloak and shook it between the two. And to Fand’s disbelieving eyes, she saw Cúchulainn ‘s eyes grow distant and vague.

He blinked, and asked Fand, “I’m sorry, have we met?”

The woman guided Cúchulainn away. Over her shoulder, she said, “He will never remember your name, or who you are. Be glad; it is the best ending this tale could have had.”

But Fand was inconsoleable. Faen tried to cajole her to come back to the Clan, but she refused. “I will stay in the Tuatha until he remembers my name,” she declared. “Just my name. He does not have to remember that he loved me, just who I am.”

Faen rolled her eyes at this romantic nonsense of her sister’s, and left to go back to Mey. After a time, it was obvious that Fand was not coming back. Faen went to visit on occasion, but soon enough she married a dragon named Cainnec, and her visits became less and less frequent.

After Faen died in an accident, a message was sent to Fand. But she did not come to the funeral, and it was later realized that none had heard from Fand in two thousand years. Most assume that she is either dead or changed so utterly that none would recognize her.

*****

And that’s a bit of story that I’m unlikely to use, but it’s a good thing for me to keep in mind. Celtic mythology is fun!

I so rarely worry about being able to do justice to characters. I occasionally worry about it with Aru and a few others, but lately all of that's seemed to be under control.

Now I come to Arcanis, and I'm trying to think about how to play him.

The man is almost supernaturally charismatic. He has to be--he spearheaded not just an army but an entire sea change in how society functioned. Not that he actually intended to, but he did. He's brilliant and a bit cruel, fanatically driven towards his own ends, and will do anything he has to do in order to accomplish his goals. He's probably got an ego the size of a continent, and he's probably at least partially justified in that.

Ah, yes. He's a cult leader. That, i can do. This should be amusing, because he's been built up as a big hero through the book so far, and the closest glimpse we've gotten of him has been through Melandrit's eyes--who may have been his lover, and most certianly loved him.

It might take me a little bit to get him cold, though. I have an Interlude that wants writing with him in it, and I'll play with his character there.

Also, it's interesting how little changes in this book are going to have large changes later on. For instance, one of Elata's best friends in Mey is a dragonet named Altai. Now that they've known each other five years, their friendship has taken on a rather odd character, quasi-sexual almost. Elata's too young yet to have the capacity to fall in love (elves don't generally gain that capacity until they're fifty or so), and Altai's too young to even be one sex or the other quite yet. Had things gone on as they begun, Elata and Altai would have had all sorts of interesting adventures together once Altai got kir small form, and they would have ended up as inseperable friends at least.

But instead, Altai and Elata are seperated for three centuries. Once Aru dies, of course, Altai's going to go looking for Elata, wanting to see if they still like each other as much as they did when they were children. Elata, of course, by that time has fallen in love with Sigurd, and they're carrying on a very, very quiet affair.

I wonder what she's going to do when Altai shows up on her doorstep? she has very fond memories of Altai, but it's been a long time.

(And I wonder what sex Altai's going to settle as? I have half a mind to have kif settle as female. That would be an added element to the mix.)

Okay, Shannon's wandering upwards in the important characters list.

Behind the cut, the lyrics to Heather Dale's song The Kingsword, with my notes.

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