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edenfalling"Guardian" ch. 15 is refusing to play nice, though I may be able to bash the Amane family's scene into shape by the time I leave for Minnesota on Thursday morning. I think I have also identified why I was never happy with the Naga-tachi scene just before that; it's trying to go in three directions simultaneously, at least one of which should not be there at all. So that will help when I get to the pruning phase.
On the brighter side, I did manage to finish ch. 7 of "The Courting Dance," despite more or less falling down a hole inside my own head for a couple days. We are back in Aravis's POV. I am beginning to get a rough notion of the shape of this story (by which I mean its length and the remaining incidents until the conclusion), and I suspect it will clock in around 15 chapters. Which means we should get another POV chapter each from Hwin, Cor, and Bree, at least one from a Narnian I have not decided upon yet, probably another from Lune and/or Corin, and hopefully then a conclusion back in Aravis's POV a third time. (This is all assuming the story doesn't run away with me, which is, alas, never a safe assumption.)
Anyway. Running from your problems is rarely a good long-term solution, sometimes the change in environment can be helpful -- especially now that Aravis and Cor are on the same page. (1,575 words)
---------------------------------------------
Chapter 7: The Beating of Our Hearts
---------------------------------------------
Aravis disliked the journey into Narnia, though she had gone willingly five times during her first year in the north, so that she might speak to Queen Lucy and spend a week or two in a place where her role was clearly defined. The Narnians treated guests nobly and never begrudged her origin, despite Queen Susan's ordeal, whereas the people of Archenland held ancient enmity with Calormen and were rarely sure what to make of her status -- something partway between king's ward, long-term guest, and unofficial hostage.
Even in the height of midsummer the mountain road was prone to enveloping fog, and the trees pressed thickly all around like disapproving sentinels. Hwin and Bree passed the time trading gossip about their respective herds and territory negotiations with the centaurs and other grassland Beasts of Narnia. Cor rode silently, seemingly lost in thought. Aravis had nothing to contribute to the horses' conversation and could not think of the right way to break into Cor's reverie, not when they hadn't spoken properly in so long. She held her tongue until they were through the pass and safely down past the narrow cliffside path, with the great valley of Narnia spread out before them like a landscape on silk.
She sat back in her saddle. Hwin took her suggestion and stopped. After a moment, Bree noticed he was walking alone and turned to eye them questioningly, his nostrils flared to catch any strange scent on the wind.
"We've crossed the border," Aravis said. "Now that we are nominally beyond Archenland's reach, I want an explanation."
Bree tossed his head. "An explanation of what? You wanted to run away, Cor wanted to run away, Hwin and I offered to help, and here we all are in Narnia. What could be simpler?"
Aravis ground her teeth. "I know why I wanted to leave Archenland. I know why you and Hwin helped. Cor, on the other hand, has spent the past two months treading dangerously close to denying me, which, after he matched my opening step in the dance, could well be considered grounds for blood feud. I know you love your father and you want to be worthy in his eyes," she added directly to Cor. "I know why you were delaying, which is why I was willing to take the dishonor of breaking the dance on myself. Yet here we are, fleeing Archenland as we once fled Calormen, with an even more uncertain future before us. What changed your mind?"
Cor swung his left leg over the saddle and slid to the slanted ground. It was strange to look down on him from Hwin's back -- they had been of a height as children, but he had three inches on her these days, just enough that she found herself tilting her chin when they spoke face to face. It was also fitting that he stand lower now, like a supplicant come to her father's court to beg her favor. There was no obligation to respond to the overture of a courting dance, but Cor had met her, matched her, and then stepped back.
"The king is under the law, for the law is what makes him king," Cor said slowly, stepping up the grassy hillside with his eyes raised to catch Aravis's gaze. "Father said that to me on our first night in Anvard -- do you remember? A king in answerable to his country and his people. If he forgets that, he becomes a tyrant. I want to do right by Archenland. I wanted to make people see that you're the best thing in my life, that you could never be a weakness. I wanted to obey the law and make Father proud."
Hwin shivered and took a nervous step sideways. Aravis loosened the grip of her legs and held herself straight and strong under Cor's earnest gaze. "What changed your mind?" she repeated.
"The law in Archenland isn't the same as the law in Calormen," Cor said. "It's about personal honor as much as rules, just like debt and testimony -- did you know that? Of course you knew that. I should have known it, if I'd been thinking. The law is a promise between the people and the king." He shrugged, a little self-deprecating gesture. "How could anyone trust me to keep that promise if I broke a more important one to you?"
Aravis swung her leg over Hwin's back and slid to the ground. Cor stepped forward and took her hands.
"Do you forgive me?" he asked.
"We have two witnesses," Aravis said rather than answer directly. "Do you have objections?"
For a moment Cor looked like the baffled boy she'd first grown to know on their journey. Then comprehension kindled a slow fire behind his eyes, and his fingers tightened around hers. "Bree, Hwin," he said, "will you stand witness to our marriage and attest its truth before any court?"
Bree looked utterly confused, but he nodded his head. "Yes, of course, but don't you need, oh, a dress and a person to say a bunch of nonsense over you to make it official?"
"That's only if they want to be grand," Hwin said from behind Aravis's shoulder. "I saw humans do this in Calormen. All they need is themselves and a pair of friends to swear they said the words before they got down to mating."
Horses, Aravis reflected, had a very earthy way of seeing the world. She caught a blush rising in Cor's cheeks and was grateful yet again that her own slight embarrassment was not equally visible to him. "Well then," she said, threading a note of challenge into her voice. "Will you keep your promise?"
Cor raised their joined hands to heart-height and said, "In the name of Soolyeh, I take you for my wife. May our marriage be warm." He stared into Aravis's eyes, the slant of the hill putting them exactly on a level.
Aravis held his gaze. "So may it be. In the name of Garshomon, I take you for my husband. May our marriage be fruitful."
The words were both strange and familiar. Aravis had heard them many times, since her father had been prone to grant the request of his slaves and the peasants on his estate that he stand as their witness and thus bring greater dignity to their unions. She had heard them again when Ilroozeh Tarkheena had married her father, for though the trappings of the wedding might be grand beyond belief, the rite itself was always the same. And she had been made to embroider them and paint them in calligraphy lessons as she grew to be of marriageable age, for no Tarkaan wished his daughter to embarrass him when she left his protection to join her new husband's household.
But this was a piece of Calormen, not of the north. To hear these words, to speak the names of Calormene gods in the land of the Lion himself, was vertiginously strange.
"So may it be," Cor said, his voice wavering as if he shared Aravis's feeling of displacement. "In the name of your father, I take you for my wife. May our marriage be honorable."
Kidrash Tarkaan would approve of Cor, Aravis thought. "So may it be. In the name of your mother" -- whom she had never met, but King Lune had loved and respected her and therefore Aravis could but assume she had been as bright and honorable as her sons -- "I take you for my husband. May our marriage be true."
"So may it be," Cor said, and then paused, letting silence seep into the sunlit afternoon instead of continuing the last set of promises.
"Is that it?" Bree asked. "Pretty enough, I suppose, if you like that sort of thing. Only, don't Calormene rituals go in threes?"
"They do," Aravis said, knowing exactly why Cor was hesitating. She squeezed his hands, her sword calluses rubbing against his, and switched the lead. "In the name of Aslan, I take you for my husband. May our marriage be strong."
She should have said Tash, but while she would always respect the god of war and vengeance, she had lost his favor when she gave allegiance to the lands of his enemies. Even if she had still held him as the king of all gods, it would feel wrong to swear by his power in Narnia, and the Lion was just as strong and fierce a defender. She had taken Aslan for her liege in the wars of heaven and so she would make her future in his name. She would marry Cor by the ways of Calormen, but they belonged to Archenland too, now. It was fitting that she acknowledge that heritage in her vows.
Cor blinked, and then smiled, a small, private curl of his lips just for her. "So may it be," he said. "In the names of all the gods, I take you for my wife. May our marriage be forever." He raised their joined hands, sliding his fingers around to turn her hands palms upward, and kissed the soft inner skin of Aravis's wrists: a feather-brush of skin on skin, his breath to the pulse of her blood. His beard tickled across her open palms as he looked up into her eyes.
Aravis swallowed. "So may it be," she said.
She pulled; Cor came willingly. She met his breath with her own.
---------------------------------------------
Back to You Can Choose Your Friends
Forward to Simple Problems
Read the final version on ff.net. (Trust me, you want to read the final version. The journal version is a beta draft, with all the mistakes that implies.)
---------------------------------------------
If you are curious, the unaltered Calormene marriage ceremony goes like this:
Man: In the name of Soolyeh, I take you for my wife. May our marriage be warm.
Woman: So may it be. In the name of Garshomon, I take you for my husband. May our marriage be fruitful.
Man: So may it be. In the name of your father, I take you for my wife. May our marriage be honorable.
Woman: So may it be. In the name of your mother, I take you for my husband. May our marriage be true.
Man: So may it be. In the name of Achadith, I take you for my wife. May our marriage be strong.
Woman: So may it be. In the name of Tash, I take you for my husband. May our marriage be forever.
Man: So may it be.
And then they are married. The traditional divorce ceremony goes approximately the same way. Either the woman or the man can end the marriage at any time by saying, "In the name of Nazreen, I divorce you. In the name of Nur, I divorce you. In the name of Azaroth, I divorce you" -- again, three times makes it true. Of course, the person who instigates a divorce may start a blood feud with that action, but it's still pretty simple and egalitarian.
Soolyeh is the goddess of the sun and summer; Garshomon, her husband, is the god of rivers and agriculture. Achadith is the wife of Tash and queen of heaven; she is the goddess of change, chance, and things out of season. (This also associates her with war and violent death.) Tash is the god of war and vengeance, and the king of heaven. Nazreen is the goddess of memory and regret; Nur, her husband, is the god of medicine, disease, and scholars. Azaroth is the god of silence, darkness, and death.
Clearly I think far too much about these things.
In any case, as always, I would love constructive criticism -- if anything is confusing, flat, or unrealistic, please tell me so I can try to fix it!
On the brighter side, I did manage to finish ch. 7 of "The Courting Dance," despite more or less falling down a hole inside my own head for a couple days. We are back in Aravis's POV. I am beginning to get a rough notion of the shape of this story (by which I mean its length and the remaining incidents until the conclusion), and I suspect it will clock in around 15 chapters. Which means we should get another POV chapter each from Hwin, Cor, and Bree, at least one from a Narnian I have not decided upon yet, probably another from Lune and/or Corin, and hopefully then a conclusion back in Aravis's POV a third time. (This is all assuming the story doesn't run away with me, which is, alas, never a safe assumption.)
Anyway. Running from your problems is rarely a good long-term solution, sometimes the change in environment can be helpful -- especially now that Aravis and Cor are on the same page. (1,575 words)
---------------------------------------------
Chapter 7: The Beating of Our Hearts
---------------------------------------------
Aravis disliked the journey into Narnia, though she had gone willingly five times during her first year in the north, so that she might speak to Queen Lucy and spend a week or two in a place where her role was clearly defined. The Narnians treated guests nobly and never begrudged her origin, despite Queen Susan's ordeal, whereas the people of Archenland held ancient enmity with Calormen and were rarely sure what to make of her status -- something partway between king's ward, long-term guest, and unofficial hostage.
Even in the height of midsummer the mountain road was prone to enveloping fog, and the trees pressed thickly all around like disapproving sentinels. Hwin and Bree passed the time trading gossip about their respective herds and territory negotiations with the centaurs and other grassland Beasts of Narnia. Cor rode silently, seemingly lost in thought. Aravis had nothing to contribute to the horses' conversation and could not think of the right way to break into Cor's reverie, not when they hadn't spoken properly in so long. She held her tongue until they were through the pass and safely down past the narrow cliffside path, with the great valley of Narnia spread out before them like a landscape on silk.
She sat back in her saddle. Hwin took her suggestion and stopped. After a moment, Bree noticed he was walking alone and turned to eye them questioningly, his nostrils flared to catch any strange scent on the wind.
"We've crossed the border," Aravis said. "Now that we are nominally beyond Archenland's reach, I want an explanation."
Bree tossed his head. "An explanation of what? You wanted to run away, Cor wanted to run away, Hwin and I offered to help, and here we all are in Narnia. What could be simpler?"
Aravis ground her teeth. "I know why I wanted to leave Archenland. I know why you and Hwin helped. Cor, on the other hand, has spent the past two months treading dangerously close to denying me, which, after he matched my opening step in the dance, could well be considered grounds for blood feud. I know you love your father and you want to be worthy in his eyes," she added directly to Cor. "I know why you were delaying, which is why I was willing to take the dishonor of breaking the dance on myself. Yet here we are, fleeing Archenland as we once fled Calormen, with an even more uncertain future before us. What changed your mind?"
Cor swung his left leg over the saddle and slid to the slanted ground. It was strange to look down on him from Hwin's back -- they had been of a height as children, but he had three inches on her these days, just enough that she found herself tilting her chin when they spoke face to face. It was also fitting that he stand lower now, like a supplicant come to her father's court to beg her favor. There was no obligation to respond to the overture of a courting dance, but Cor had met her, matched her, and then stepped back.
"The king is under the law, for the law is what makes him king," Cor said slowly, stepping up the grassy hillside with his eyes raised to catch Aravis's gaze. "Father said that to me on our first night in Anvard -- do you remember? A king in answerable to his country and his people. If he forgets that, he becomes a tyrant. I want to do right by Archenland. I wanted to make people see that you're the best thing in my life, that you could never be a weakness. I wanted to obey the law and make Father proud."
Hwin shivered and took a nervous step sideways. Aravis loosened the grip of her legs and held herself straight and strong under Cor's earnest gaze. "What changed your mind?" she repeated.
"The law in Archenland isn't the same as the law in Calormen," Cor said. "It's about personal honor as much as rules, just like debt and testimony -- did you know that? Of course you knew that. I should have known it, if I'd been thinking. The law is a promise between the people and the king." He shrugged, a little self-deprecating gesture. "How could anyone trust me to keep that promise if I broke a more important one to you?"
Aravis swung her leg over Hwin's back and slid to the ground. Cor stepped forward and took her hands.
"Do you forgive me?" he asked.
"We have two witnesses," Aravis said rather than answer directly. "Do you have objections?"
For a moment Cor looked like the baffled boy she'd first grown to know on their journey. Then comprehension kindled a slow fire behind his eyes, and his fingers tightened around hers. "Bree, Hwin," he said, "will you stand witness to our marriage and attest its truth before any court?"
Bree looked utterly confused, but he nodded his head. "Yes, of course, but don't you need, oh, a dress and a person to say a bunch of nonsense over you to make it official?"
"That's only if they want to be grand," Hwin said from behind Aravis's shoulder. "I saw humans do this in Calormen. All they need is themselves and a pair of friends to swear they said the words before they got down to mating."
Horses, Aravis reflected, had a very earthy way of seeing the world. She caught a blush rising in Cor's cheeks and was grateful yet again that her own slight embarrassment was not equally visible to him. "Well then," she said, threading a note of challenge into her voice. "Will you keep your promise?"
Cor raised their joined hands to heart-height and said, "In the name of Soolyeh, I take you for my wife. May our marriage be warm." He stared into Aravis's eyes, the slant of the hill putting them exactly on a level.
Aravis held his gaze. "So may it be. In the name of Garshomon, I take you for my husband. May our marriage be fruitful."
The words were both strange and familiar. Aravis had heard them many times, since her father had been prone to grant the request of his slaves and the peasants on his estate that he stand as their witness and thus bring greater dignity to their unions. She had heard them again when Ilroozeh Tarkheena had married her father, for though the trappings of the wedding might be grand beyond belief, the rite itself was always the same. And she had been made to embroider them and paint them in calligraphy lessons as she grew to be of marriageable age, for no Tarkaan wished his daughter to embarrass him when she left his protection to join her new husband's household.
But this was a piece of Calormen, not of the north. To hear these words, to speak the names of Calormene gods in the land of the Lion himself, was vertiginously strange.
"So may it be," Cor said, his voice wavering as if he shared Aravis's feeling of displacement. "In the name of your father, I take you for my wife. May our marriage be honorable."
Kidrash Tarkaan would approve of Cor, Aravis thought. "So may it be. In the name of your mother" -- whom she had never met, but King Lune had loved and respected her and therefore Aravis could but assume she had been as bright and honorable as her sons -- "I take you for my husband. May our marriage be true."
"So may it be," Cor said, and then paused, letting silence seep into the sunlit afternoon instead of continuing the last set of promises.
"Is that it?" Bree asked. "Pretty enough, I suppose, if you like that sort of thing. Only, don't Calormene rituals go in threes?"
"They do," Aravis said, knowing exactly why Cor was hesitating. She squeezed his hands, her sword calluses rubbing against his, and switched the lead. "In the name of Aslan, I take you for my husband. May our marriage be strong."
She should have said Tash, but while she would always respect the god of war and vengeance, she had lost his favor when she gave allegiance to the lands of his enemies. Even if she had still held him as the king of all gods, it would feel wrong to swear by his power in Narnia, and the Lion was just as strong and fierce a defender. She had taken Aslan for her liege in the wars of heaven and so she would make her future in his name. She would marry Cor by the ways of Calormen, but they belonged to Archenland too, now. It was fitting that she acknowledge that heritage in her vows.
Cor blinked, and then smiled, a small, private curl of his lips just for her. "So may it be," he said. "In the names of all the gods, I take you for my wife. May our marriage be forever." He raised their joined hands, sliding his fingers around to turn her hands palms upward, and kissed the soft inner skin of Aravis's wrists: a feather-brush of skin on skin, his breath to the pulse of her blood. His beard tickled across her open palms as he looked up into her eyes.
Aravis swallowed. "So may it be," she said.
She pulled; Cor came willingly. She met his breath with her own.
---------------------------------------------
Back to You Can Choose Your Friends
Forward to Simple Problems
Read the final version on ff.net. (Trust me, you want to read the final version. The journal version is a beta draft, with all the mistakes that implies.)
---------------------------------------------
If you are curious, the unaltered Calormene marriage ceremony goes like this:
Man: In the name of Soolyeh, I take you for my wife. May our marriage be warm.
Woman: So may it be. In the name of Garshomon, I take you for my husband. May our marriage be fruitful.
Man: So may it be. In the name of your father, I take you for my wife. May our marriage be honorable.
Woman: So may it be. In the name of your mother, I take you for my husband. May our marriage be true.
Man: So may it be. In the name of Achadith, I take you for my wife. May our marriage be strong.
Woman: So may it be. In the name of Tash, I take you for my husband. May our marriage be forever.
Man: So may it be.
And then they are married. The traditional divorce ceremony goes approximately the same way. Either the woman or the man can end the marriage at any time by saying, "In the name of Nazreen, I divorce you. In the name of Nur, I divorce you. In the name of Azaroth, I divorce you" -- again, three times makes it true. Of course, the person who instigates a divorce may start a blood feud with that action, but it's still pretty simple and egalitarian.
Soolyeh is the goddess of the sun and summer; Garshomon, her husband, is the god of rivers and agriculture. Achadith is the wife of Tash and queen of heaven; she is the goddess of change, chance, and things out of season. (This also associates her with war and violent death.) Tash is the god of war and vengeance, and the king of heaven. Nazreen is the goddess of memory and regret; Nur, her husband, is the god of medicine, disease, and scholars. Azaroth is the god of silence, darkness, and death.
Clearly I think far too much about these things.
In any case, as always, I would love constructive criticism -- if anything is confusing, flat, or unrealistic, please tell me so I can try to fix it!
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(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-31 01:40 am (UTC)Cor blinked, and then smiled, a small, private curl of his lips just for her. "So may it be," he said. "In the names of all the gods, I take you for my wife. May our marriage be forever." He raised their joined hands, sliding his fingers around to turn her hands palms upward, and kissed the soft inner skin of Aravis's wrists: a feather-brush of skin on skin, his breath to the pulse of her blood. His beard tickled across her open palms as he looked up into her eyes.
Aravis swallowed. "So may it be," she said.
She pulled; Cor came willingly. She met his breath with her own.
The description is beautiful. ^_^
(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-31 02:32 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-31 02:17 am (UTC)Bree and Hwin's comments about human marriage ceremonies were pretty funny, because they are so right about all the grandiose ideas we have to celebrate a union. :-)
And I loved the extra world-building notes!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-31 02:41 am (UTC)It's definitely easier for them to get married in Narnia. I don't think Cor would dare in Archenland, where his father would be metaphorically looking disapprovingly over his shoulder. I suspect Aravis would also find that awkward, though to a lesser degree. And yeah, I wasn't expecting them to actually get married before the end of the story, but the way things happened, I had no reason for them NOT to, so they did. *shrug* Of course, this doesn't mean their troubles are anywhere near over... *plots evilly* (And I may yet end up with a grandiose wedding scene, if only for public show. *grin*)
(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-30 01:07 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-31 03:06 am (UTC)I just cannot see Aravis-in-Archenland as a situation without tension, especially once it becomes clear to anyone with eyes (or a nose! *grin*) that she and Cor have a Thing for each other. Even if she tried to make herself completely into a northerner, there would always be a niggling little "but..." in people's minds, and since I can't see Aravis renouncing her self and her heritage, I suspect that little voice is very nearly a shout for some Archenlanders. :-(
Honor is Very Serious Business in Archenland. And you know, I always did like Lune's lecture on what it means to be a king, so I am trying to have Cor live up to that insofar as he can.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-30 06:07 pm (UTC)Also, I'd love more exploration of (though maybe it does not fit into the narrative) whether its just Avaris and Cor, being transplanted hybrid Calormen/northmen, or if its a whole Narnian world thing that one believes in both Aslan and other Gods (well, other Gods besides Tash who seems to be the devil or at least Aslan's polar opposite if LB is anything to go by...). I'd be interested too in how this differs from Northern marriage traditions.
I'm very excited by the idea of more chapters and impressed that it will come full circle so cleanly to end with Avaris for a third time...well, provided things go to your plans. I know how that goes!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-31 03:32 am (UTC)Anyway, I wanted a marriage ritual that could be self-performed, just as the courting dance is a self-initiated betrothal rite. The same thing goes for the divorce.
The other thing about the divorce ritual, though, is that while you can just up and divorce your spouse with no warning, in practice that is almost never done. The legal tangles it would create are too much of a nightmare, plus your spouse and his/her family would almost certainly object, possibly with violence. About the only time someone would invoke a divorce without getting both families and possibly the local magistrates to mediate beforehand would be in cases of abuse, where the abused spouse wants to get away NOW (and throw a wrench into the abuser's ability to hold onto any children involved) and sort out the legal niceties later. I got the idea from the myth of Islamic men being able to divorce their wives just by saying "I divorce you" three times, which in practice is considered something like illegal blasphemy by Shiites, and is outlawed in most Sunni countries too; it is not a tradition supported by the Koran. I wanted a divorce ritual that looked simple but really wasn't, when you consider the practicalities. (It mirrors the courting dance, in a way -- that also looks simple but gets complicated when you put it into practice.)
There are other gods in Narnia! There's Bacchus and Silenus, for one thing, plus the river god who asks Aslan to loose his chains (i.e., destroy the bridge of Beruna), and I think Father Christmas would count as a minor deity from some perspectives. Narnians certainly don't worship Calormene gods, but I doubt they'd deny their existence. Hmm. Come to that, I don't think Narnians can really be said to worship their own gods. Respect them, sure, but they don't seem to have any kind of organized religion.
Northern marriage traditions are also pretty simple, but they require an officiant. They come from Frank and Helen, who adapted a basic Church of England marriage to their new circumstances. :-)
(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-31 03:43 am (UTC)Interesting about marriages. the ceremonies are pretty simple, I guess. Its just they seem with the realities of exchange and/or merging of goods and the trading and/or merging of families. Love the way you thought up something that seemed simple but isn't.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-31 04:10 am (UTC)The Horse and His Boy annoys me in its presentation of Aslan. Lewis is trying to be all "Look! God! The Trinity!" with things like Aslan being omniscient and the scene where he walks beside Shasta over the mountain pass into Narnia, and at the same time have Aslan act as a magical trickster/helper animal from traditional fairy tale structure (the cat in the ruins, the lions chasing Shasta and Aravis at various points, Rabadash's transformation at the end). The juxtaposition is jarring.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-17 01:49 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-17 05:26 am (UTC)World-building is my not-at-all-secret addiction -- I actually got into writing as much for the world-building as for the storytelling -- and Lewis left so many parts of his world on the level of rough sketched outlines instead of proper detailed pictures, so it is a joy (a frustrating joy, but a joy nonetheless) to try filling in those details myself. :-)