Gilwen
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There are times when silence has the loudest voice.[Mo0:0]
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Post by Gilwen on Sept 13, 2009 17:14:57 GMT -5
“So that is what he was so interested in speaking to you of!”
It was a quiet outburst, but his tone was unmistakable. Gilwen’s heart began to race, and she instantly felt uneasy. He was angry, certainly. At her or Durion? She could not rightly tell, not with the words that followed. He told her, as if she had not known, that Durion would try and have his way with her. The very thought made her stomach feel weak, and her body dirty. She knew well the man was vile; the woman he was working to replace was with child—or, so the rumor said.
By Faeldor’s ramblings she was unsure whether he was aware of such a fact or not. Indeed, he seemed not to mention it, so she did not either. He was quite upset enough. He stood and began to pace angrily, his words resembling a lecture that a father would give their daughter. “You will not work for him. Who can even fathom what he would make you do…” Oh, he looked utterly disgusted! Gilwen’s eyes looked sad in response. “Fael…” She had not meant to upset him though!
He wheeled around and sat beside her again, briskly, clearly trying to regain control of himself again. She was pulled right into his arms, and Gilwen relaxed somewhat—at least he was not mad at her. “You do not deserve such a position.” She sighed and wrapped her own arms tightly around him in response, looking up at him with her doe-eyes somewhat relieved. “Then I will not take it.” She said flatly. Oh, was he ever so upset over it! As much as she desired the extra wages, she was not at all comfortable with the idea of being alone in that man’s house with him.
The thought made her shudder slightly and she shifted herself on the bench so that she was better facing him. Oh, he was so tense! It tugged at the woman’s heart and she kissed his cheek; three short but soft kisses she left upon his cheek, before she nuzzled her nose against his in attempt to calm him. “Fael, he will not touch me.” She said softly. “I did not answer him at the ball—you were too quickly approaching. But I will send him a definite answer in the morning. Do not worry on it.” She kissed his forehead, and then his other cheek impulsively.
She tucked her head against his shoulder, right under his chin with a smile. She sighed and let her hand rise to lay upon his chest, and she smoothed a few of the wrinkles upon his tunic sweetly and gently. Silk was rather smooth and slippery. Her fingertips gently traced their way back up to his beard, and she removed her head from his shoulder to look back up at his grey eyes.
She said nothing. Her words were quite used up for the moment. Though, her eyes did more than any words could have. They looked so adoringly upon him and softly. The morning was pushed from her thoughts again, and she simply relished the moment, her fingers delicately tracing his jaw and hairline. Oh, how handsome!
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Faeldor
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Do we walk in legends or on the green earth in the daylight?[Mo0:1]
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Post by Faeldor on Sept 13, 2009 21:36:03 GMT -5
”Then I will not take it.” Faeldor was visibly relieved at such words. He did not know why, but he had felt as if Gilwen would argue the matter with him. She was as protective over her family as he was over his own; but inwardly he knew that she would not lend her body in such a way to foul Durion. There were other ways. If it came down to need, she would certainly allow Faeldor to help before she were to do such a rash thing, would she not?
“He best not touch you. I will kill him,” Faeldor said slowly, almost as a low growl, though Gilwen’s ministrations were calming his firey blood. “Do send him word by messenger… do not go to his home even to speak with him,” the man instructed. Such was the safest way to handle such matters. The safest way to keep his hands off of her anyhow. Oh, but Gilwen had a way of calming the man’s spirit. The way her lips came so often to his skin, and then how she leaned into him left his muscles feeling less tense.
He felt her fingertips through the fabric of his tunic, and then upon his face, and within the edges of his hair. She was entirely entrancing him with such behaviors, and he lost trace of his anger as quickly as it had come upon him. She was quiet; not saying a word with her lips, but her eyes were sedating him, and washing over him in affection. At times she was so shy and reserved, yet there were those moments like these when she did not hide her affection from him. Perhaps it was the wine; or that they were alone in the dark. Or that she was trying to calm him down. Likely it was a combination of all things.
“Come, sit upon my lap, Gilwen,” he said finally as he had regained his voice. He wished to be closer to her, and wrap his arms around her fully. He moved on the bench, that she might come upon him. “Just the way you did the night we were upon Mount Mindoluin,” he suggested. “Then we might be close. I have held you at arms length all evening, and I cannot bear to do so any longer. You need to be close against my heart,” he smiled lightly, his hand tracing over the lady’s cheek.
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Gilwen
Man
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There are times when silence has the loudest voice.[Mo0:0]
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Post by Gilwen on Sept 13, 2009 22:01:32 GMT -5
“He best not touch you. I will kill him.”
The protective growl that Faeldor uttered elated Gilwen, though her soft countenance did not let such emotion show. Oh, he was wonderful! She felt entirely safe with him; and he need not even have a sword or bow beside him. His love and arms were protection enough. One thing that every woman desired was a place to feel safe. Well, Gilwen had found the safest place in all of Arda right there in Faeldor’s arms. “I shall give him word by messenger. I will not have you worry for me,” she answered plainly, though was unsure as to how she would go about doing so. Was she not of the class of a messenger? Such thoughts could be saved for morning. There, she let them go.
He was easing and calming as she leaned against him and touched him. And for that she was glad; a night as lovely as this was not supposed to warrant his unease or distress. No, his Gilwen would make sure that he was well relaxed. Her smile was soft and gentle, and it seemed Faeldor’s expression was slowly changing to match in calmness. A part of his lovely eyes seemed pleased and surprised by the gentle ministrations of her fingertips. And apparently, the way she was pressed against him was not close enough for the man. His words that came attested to it, and he invited her upon his lap, shifting himself so that she could better do such a thing. At first she was very eager to do so, and smiled brightly at his request. Though, a single sentence stilled her thoughts and made her nervous.
“Just the way you did the night we were upon Mount Mindoluin.”
How had she sat upon his lap on the mountain? Surely she would not have done anything too bold. But she had been filled with wine—she had not been herself. She did not wish to be at arms length with him anymore either. But he had requested something of her that the lady could not rightly recall. How many ways could one sit in a lap, though? Every time she had done so that she could remember it had been the same way as that evening of their dinner party. Surely that must be what he meant? Oh, but he spoke of the mountain as if it had been special! Heavens, she could not let him know she did not recall much of anything! How embarrassed she felt.
Her eagerness quelled, then, and the woman slowly and carefully worked her way to sit upon his lap. She did hope that this was what he desired, for she knew not what else she could have done. It felt right, to sit that way. It had to have been what she had done; she even faintly recalled him sweeping her up like this at the beginning of their night, to quell her tears over her father. She leaned against him contentedly, inwardly sighing. It certainly warmed her and made her feel safer.
She had not realized how much she had desired such a closeness. All evening she had been contented and satiated to be at his arm, though now that they were nearer, she felt as if she should have desired it all evening. Well, her passion for it arose quickly again as she assured herself this was what he had desired and the woman once more displayed an energy, though she was indeed very calm. Her heart was quite eased. If only they could sit together as this the whole night, and forget about what was waiting for her upon her return home or the next morning completely. One day, hopefully soon, Gilwen would be allowed to stay in his arms for all the night, and not spark any further rumors or contempt toward either of them.
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Faeldor
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Do we walk in legends or on the green earth in the daylight?[Mo0:1]
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Post by Faeldor on Sept 14, 2009 8:40:20 GMT -5
“Perhaps I should address Durion myself. Certainly I shall see him bright and early in the morn. I will have a word with him before he sets off to duty,” the Stable Master said assuringly. He was not asking permission from the woman to do so; simply stating that he was going to do such a thing. Perhaps he would not injure the man before his own training sessions; for that would surely not go over well with the Captains, but he would threaten him. Faeldor had always been quite a bit more built than the cowardly Durion, and though he had resisted his urges over the past years, as a result of maturity, the Stable Master was quite willing to lash out at the man should he have any more ‘offers’ for Gilwen. Durion would know.
The lady seemed eager to move closer to Faeldor when he asked her to, but she did move slowly. Perhaps she was weary. After all the moving about that she had done this evening, and all the excitement, it was likely to be the truth. She smiled, and climbed upon his lap, leaning against him, and he wondered if she had purposely come to sit this way for sake of propriety, or if sitting with him included as one of the many memories that she had seemed to forget from that evening. Either way, she seemed quite content, so he held the lady for a moment before speaking once more.
“No, Gilwen, the way you sat with me upon the mountain,” he repeated, saying it into her hair this time as she had brought her head to lay upon his chest. “That way was much closer.” She was looking up at him, and he tilted his head to kiss her deeply as his grip tightened upon her back, though partway through he broke it off and separated from her.
He released the woman for a moment, pushing her away from him, and stood her up before him. His hands though, did not leave her. They were placed leisurely at her hips, and he decided, with a glimmer in his eye, that perhaps he needed to explain to her. “When you sat over my lap facing me. With a leg on either side. It was such a close way to be. Come, it has been near three weeks since that night. I miss having you so near.” He drew her closer him. “And this time you will remember it, I do believe.” His words were light; not condemning, for it had very well not been neither of their faults that she had become so drunk on their night out. Neither of them had known that wine affected her in such a way.
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Gilwen
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There are times when silence has the loudest voice.[Mo0:0]
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Post by Gilwen on Sept 14, 2009 9:43:00 GMT -5
“I will have a word with him before he sets off to duty.”
Gilwen smiled once more, looking upwards at the man for a few moments before gently adding, “Do make sure it stays at words.” She said sweetly. “You should not waste your strength on him. He would not even offer you a challenge.” Perhaps somewhere inside the lady did wish for her Faeldor to beat that swine senseless—he was the worst of the city, no doubt. Still, she was also quite a passive woman, and would never desire Faeldor to affront Durion on her account. But the woman was certain that Faeldor was more than strong enough to overtake the other man, for while Durion practiced with a sword and was a member of the cavalry, he seemed lean with very little in the way of muscle.
And from where Gilwen was sitting, she could feel the stable-wrought arms and chest that her beloved had acquired.
“No, Gilwen, the way you sat with me upon the mountain, that way was much closer.”
Gilwen, who had been quite convinced that she had done precisely what the man had asked of her was a bit shocked by what he had said. “Closer?” She whispered to herself. How could you get much closer than this? She was right upon him, after all, and well engulfed in his arms. Blessed Eru, she could not recall!
Her thoughts were interrupted as he caught her lips; as if trying to entice her to be closer. Her heart raced and her hand clutched at his tunic, though her cheeks did not flush as greatly as she was used to. He was pulling her so close that the woman felt entirely pleased. Such strong arms!
But her heart fell when he broke himself away, and worked her from his lap. Had she been that bad? No—his eyes were still glistening and sparkling from an inner joy. It seemed he wished her to try again. Well, she certainly desired to be close now. But it still remained she did not know how to be closer, though Faeldor had apparently thought on such a thing and brought himself to offer the information, all the while guiding her forward with firm hands upon her hips.
“When you sat over my lap facing me. With a leg on either side. It was such a close way to be. Come, it has been near three weeks since that night. I miss having you so near.”
Gilwen’s face erupted into a lovely show of reds, and her mouth parted in shock. She had sat with him in such a way? Goodness! Was it not too provocative to do such a thing? Where on earth had she gotten the idea from in the first place—if she really did do it on the mountain. Oh, and she must have, for her Faeldor’s eyes were clear and it was obvious he was not lying. “I did that?” She found herself saying in disbelief, though quickly felt embarrassed that she had just admitted to Faeldor she could not remember much of that night.
“And this time you will remember it, I do believe.”
Well, he had sparked her own desire for closeness. Three weeks was entirely too long. She glanced to his house, and around the garden as if to be sure that none were there and then, she finally let him pull her closer. Her heart was racing, and Gilwen was in fact unsure of whether she should consent or not for the sake of propriety. The wine, though, spurred her onward. After a moment of working with her skirt, Gilwen found herself once more in the stable master’s lap. It was a strange way to sit, for in her mind she had never done such a thing before. She was eye level with him, and that pleased her greatly. Still, what was she supposed to do with her hands?
She slowly brought them up, one cupping the back of his neck, the other resting on his arm. “Like this?” she asked quietly. Oh, she did hope that none were watching—this was quite a compromising position.
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Faeldor
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Post by Faeldor on Sept 14, 2009 19:57:30 GMT -5
”I did that?” This caused the man to laugh softly. Her disbelief was quite evident on her face, and now he was certain that she did not remember their lovely moment at all. “Of course you did that.” He was grinning. “It is something that I remember quite vividly.” Despite her shock, it seemed that Gilwen meant to please, and she had soon come back to him, sitting upon his lap as he had wished of her. She still seemed rather stiff and unyielding to him.
“Almost,” Faeldor grinned, when she asked if she had now positioned herself properly. His arms wrapped about her, and the Stable Master pulled his lady closer until her the distance between them had been shot to nothing. With one hand on the back of her hips, the other wrapped about her back. “There… just like that.”
“You do not remember much from that night… do you?” he asked lightly, kissing the corner of the woman’s lips after he had spoken, but stopping long enough to look at her eyes. He knew she did not, yet he had not been given quite the opportunity to tell her yet. He did wish her to know though; for the evening had been quite special to him. “You sat just like this. I think…” He considered if he should continue, but he smiled softly, and then he did. “I think it started as your ploy to have me lay you down and give you children…” He could hardly contain his laughter at this point, and he held Gilwen close, that she might not wiggle away at his words. “Grey eyed ones, you asked for, as if I could control such a thing, I might add. But despite the failure of your plan, we still sat quite nicely like this the entire evening.”
He kissed the woman gently on the lips, then he let his hands slide down over the silk backed dress, and Faeldor kissed her jaw. He would not let little Gilwen be flustered over her words that had happened some weeks ago. He pressed his lips to her neck, and then the Stable Master was quite lost in kissing his lady in the way she enjoyed.
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Gilwen
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There are times when silence has the loudest voice.[Mo0:0]
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Post by Gilwen on Sept 14, 2009 20:39:27 GMT -5
“There… just like that.”
My, they were close to one another. His arms had wrapped around her fully, one drawing her hips closer, the other her shoulders. There was not even a breadth of distance between them. Gilwen was quite at a loss for words over it—she had not thought such a closeness was possible. Still, she was quite thrilled by it, and her heart had picked up its pace again nicely. Her cheeks held a light pink tinge, though her lips bore a smile yet.
“You do not remember much from that night… do you?”
Gilwen chewed her bottom lip before slowly shaking her head, the wine working its wonder again to bring her to speak. “No, I do not. And it is a shame—for this is lovely.” She could not seem to keep her tongue stilled! Oh, but it was. His silver eyes were right before her, and she was entirely lost in them. And he was warm! There were plenty of other things that she could not recall, either. And if all of them were of this nature, the little lady knew that she was missing some fair moments that had passed between them. His eyes were dancing as well, and in only a moment she was listening to his words again.
Though, they brought to her a color of great depth, and horrified eyes. “I think it started as your ploy to have me lay you down and give you children…” What? No. No, no, no, no. He could not know that she desired them. He was inferring, yes. It was a rather provocative way to sit, after all. Yes, that must have been it. Though, Gilwen’s desperate attempt to calm herself tumbled to the nothing with Faeldor’s next sentence. Was he laughing? This was not funny. “Grey eyed ones, you asked for, as if I could control such a thing, I might add.” Her chest tightened, and her heart felt as if it would burst. It took Gilwen a moment to realize she had stopped breathing. Gracious Eru! How dreadful to speak on such things! She took a staggered and frantic breath and finally responded.
“Faeldor!” It was a hiss, shocked and surprised. She tried to push herself away from him, but those strong arms that she had been thankful for just moments before had become a trap. “Faeldor, someone shall hear you!” Oh, she was mortified. “I should never have said such things to you—I….” She was embarrassed! To speak of children—to beg for such an act on his part…goodness! “I am sorry! I shouldn’t have…not that I do not desire your children--” She cut herself off, finding herself once more on the verge of declaring her want of a grey-eyed child and tried to cover such a thing up.
Before she even continued her ramble, his lips were roving over her skin happily. And Gilwen was taking them nicely as well, though her mind was still reeling from learning of her own request. Her lips, her jaw, and then the man tucked his head down and she began to feel him press his lips against her neck, all the while gripping her firmly so she could not escape.
She found herself enjoying such a thing, despite her try at keeping her feelings at bay. It took only a moment of such ministrations to draw from her lips a deep sigh of content. She nuzzled her face into his curls, kissing them lightly and squeezing his arm slightly. Silence had once more overtaken her. A part of her scolded herself for allowing such kisses and touches to pass between them after such a topic of children, but she was far too pleased to be this close to him to speak on it further, or to pull herself away.
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Faeldor
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Post by Faeldor on Sept 15, 2009 9:33:45 GMT -5
The Stable Master was laughing even before Gilwen made her exclamation. “Faeldor!” She had tried to pull away from him, but his arms stilled her, keeping the lady just as close as ever. She was warm and soft through the silk of her dress.
Despite her fluster, and her state of borderline drunkenness, Faeldor loved his Starlight just as much now as he had when he had taken her both times to Fela Isilme, and as much as he had when he pulled her hands from the stinging bucket of lye water. Just as much as when he had embraced her in the servants quarters, and held her alone in the stables. Nothing of her own amusing agitation could set him in any other direction.
“Faeldor, someone shall hear you!...I should never have said such things to you—I….I am sorry! I shouldn’t have…not that I do not desire your children--”
She had flustered herself now, hadn’t she? “Nobody shall hear; they are all asleep,” the man smiled, and was quite assured. “And should they hear, it does not matter, for no trouble has come of our actions. And do not fret on the matter, Gilwen! I know you wholly desire to have children someday. And I know that you wish them to have grey eyes. And I wish them to have brown eyes. So either way one of us will be pleased, and thus the other will be as well. Even if our baby should have blue or green eyes there is nothing that would make me unpleased at having a child with you.” A hand traced lightly down the woman’s side, then over her hip and down her leg.
“But! Alas, we must wait.” He found the woman’s lips once more now, glad that his kisses seemed to have calmed the Gilwen. She had been kissing his hair with her soft touches. “Mayhaps you just did not remember my promise, that when we are wed, we will work on having our children. Right now I will just love you with my words and eyes… and lips,” he said, as he returned to kissing her. “And my hands,” he paused for a moment to speak against the woman’s neck, and his hand ran back up her leg.
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Gilwen
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There are times when silence has the loudest voice.[Mo0:0]
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Post by Gilwen on Sept 15, 2009 15:42:42 GMT -5
As with all other times, Gilwen’s show of nerves and fluster amused Faeldor wholly. His laughing grey eyes were very well revealing of the fact, and the smile he wore did not seem to falter. Indeed, it appeared to strengthen in all accounts. Though his words did attempt to calm her, and his assurance of their words remaining private certainly did. Heavens, if Meleth had heard her…or her own father! Her heart seemed to sink and pain at the thought. Neither of them would have escaped unscathed!
“Even if our baby should have blue or green eyes there is nothing that would make me unpleased at having a child with you.”
Gilwen’s nerves stilled almost instantly. She did desire grey eyed children; whether she wised to keep such a fact hidden or not did not matter. It was indeed true. She was taken by the declaration that he desired brown eyed children, though. Part of it seemed strange to hear, though her fidgeting abruptly ended, and she looked, entirely lost, into his eyes. Her cheeks held a slight pinkness, surely, but a part of her soul was eased. He desired children, too. But it was the last statement that pleased her greatest. Having a child with her. Gilwen couldn’t help but show the sparkle of delight in her own brown eyes. She would gladly, and proudly, bear any child he should desire. As many as he desired. She adored children, and she adored this man. He would be the only one that she would ever consider such an act for—but it soothed her mothering nature greatly to know he thought of her as a mother for his children as well.
“But! Alas, we must wait.”
It must have been the wine that made such a statement to sad—but it certainly weighed a bit on her heart. Still, she was not lost enough to wish to press the matter further—only to pray silently that they would soon be wed. Such things would all be okay, if she were to be married to him. He pressed his lips to hers again, and the woman momentarily faltered in her proprietous thoughts and tightened her hold upon him. She regained herself quickly though, and did not beg him to give her children there and then.
“Right now I will just love you with my words and eyes… and lips, and my hands.”
His fingertips were certainly roaming, and he seemed quite eager to shower her with affection from those lips of which he spoke. She was certainly enjoying such attentions, though Gilwen was a bit shocked at the way he touched her leg. “Fael,” She couldn’t even get his full name out, she was so breathless. She removed the hand from his arm, laying it gently upon his own. “Whatever are you doing?” It was a gentle question, and soft. She was not upset, though her doe-eyes were quite bewildered and unsure. He had never touched her like that before? Certainly both of them would be carried away if such touches continued. Had his impulses been that changed by the wine he had taken? Her own surely were, for the lady did not attempt to remove his hand from her.
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Faeldor
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Post by Faeldor on Sept 17, 2009 18:15:18 GMT -5
“Whatever are you doing?” Her face looked rather confused, though Faeldor could tell that the woman was still pleased, and did not still his attentions in any way. “I am enjoying you, my Starlight,” Faeldor answered, amusedly. “Do you like that?” he asked her, knowing well that she did. “You enjoyed it well when we were upon the mountain. Albeit, you were much more inebriate there than you are now.”
His hand drifted to the hem of her dress and skimmed up the soft skin of her leg as he kissed her once more, fingers stopping at her knee. He traced the outline of that little joint with gentle fingers, before slowly withdrawing his hand. Best to stop yourself before you take yourself too far. His mind seemed to be lulling his passions, and reminding him of the oath he had made to Gilwen and his very self. Wait. How tedious it was to wait. The man, though not wishing Gilwen to sense his own inner turmoil, returned his kisses to her again. They might still enjoy each other without going further, he thought to himself. He paused for a moment, smiling against the woman’s lips. “I love you,” he whispered softly. He let his hands to caress her waist, and they roamed quite restlessly over her back, though he stilled himself from any motions more than the kisses he was gifting her with.
Awakened from slumber, in a window above, a dark haired boy’s eyes wiped away the sleep, as he heard voices in the garden. Young Faelon, just eight years old stretched and curled into a tight ball for a moment as he rolled over onto his side. Yes. Indeed there were voices, and he wondered what for? His little feet hit the cold, stone floor as he found himself drawn to the window.
There was Faeldor! The older brother was all but idolized by the little boy, and he wondered at what the man was doing. Gilwen was there, it seemed. He was always so happy when Gilwen was about, and he looked happy now as well. She was sitting upon his lap, as he had never seen a woman sit before. Faeldor’s hands were all over her, it was clear. He had never seen a man act in such a way. And what was he doing with his mouth. The little boy’s eyes widened. He had certainly seen people kiss before. It was not uncommon to see family do such a thing to each other. He had even seen people his brother’s age kiss upon the lips, out on the street at times. Though, he had never seen them do it in such a way as Faeldor was now. His little mind reeled. He is eating her face!
It must have been a very grown up thing to do. But Faeldor looked so pleased by it. He almost called out the window in question of what, exactly, they were doing. Then, he recalled that it was very late, and Mother would certainly be unhappy should she find him out of bed at this hour. He wiggled his toes, which were cold on the floor, glad that he did not share his room with a sibling, should they tattle on him.
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Gilwen
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There are times when silence has the loudest voice.[Mo0:0]
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Post by Gilwen on Sept 17, 2009 19:58:04 GMT -5
Did she enjoy that? Certainly. Was she going to admit so? Never. Still, her heart was fluttering away in her chest, and the woman was altogether anxious. Her breathing had certainly become irregular; something within her tightened upon hearing Faeldor speak on that night at the mountain once more. She had enjoyed it then? Without a doubt, if his touches were as soft as this. In fact, she mused very logically, if he was so ready with his hands, it was probably what drove her to beg for him to go farther. She was not that lost tonight, though.
His admission of her enjoying it that evening seemed to give him confidence to let his hands roam a bit farther—and soon his warmth was against he own skin. Gilwen’s face flushed, though she did not ask him to still himself. She had lost all breath, and her heart was in quite a flurry. “Fael, I—“ She couldn’t finish. She didn’t have to, his hand slowly removed itself from under her dress, and for a moment Faeldor looked troubled over it. If he were, though, his eye only showed such emotion for a moment, and then immediately his lips were back to hers.
Oh, he was so ever fine at it. All of Gilwen’s earlier thoughts flitted from her mind and she held herself close to him as his hands traced eager motions across her back. She felt him smile before he stilled himself and pulled away to look at her. It was what drew her eyes to open again, and she caught his pleasant gaze as he whispered those words to her. “I love you.”
“And I love you.” She whispered in response, though immediately tightened her grip upon him and pressed her forehead against his. Her words, Gilwen thought, did not sound as truthful as she desired them to be, so it was with all joy and eagerness that she returned his pleasant kisses. Her actions, as always, spoke so much louder than her words.
She was so wrapped up within the attentions they were paying one another she did not see the face of the little boy in the window. If she had, she would have certainly ended whatever show he was then watching, and tore herself from Faeldor’s lap. Still, her heart was aching for the man she was with, and she wished to spend every last moment she had with him that evening exactly as they were. He would have a short time with her tomorrow morning before she was off to the palace, but after that, it was unlikely they would see each other until the day after. Certainly not long enough to truly enjoy each other’s company.
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Faeldor
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Post by Faeldor on Sept 18, 2009 16:29:57 GMT -5
Gilwen was speaking to him again with her eyes. How ever sweet his Starlight was. Her soul was so gentle, and every look that was passing from her now was radiating love to him. He enjoyed the words upon her lips, but even moreso; the way her eyes loved him. He felt the softness of them upon his skin. He felt it stir upon him like moonlight or ripples in water, yet unlike those intangible things he could grasp it. His arms encircled the woman warmly, to shield her against the cool night air, and eventually his stilled his kisses and took comfort in simply holding her.
“Are you cold?” he wondered protectively, moving her head gently to press it down against his shoulder. Gilwen always seemed to be a bit chilled when the night was out, and the breeze was blowing. Silk upon skin made it even worse, he was certain. He ran his hand up along the woman’s spine. He might go inside and take for her a shawl or a blanket.
Above and unseen, little Faelon watched for a few more moments, before tiptoeing back to his bed. If Faeldor knew, he would certainly be upset. Mother would be mad to know him awake. The sheets were welcome and the blankets still warm from when he had left them; and it felt a comfort to his toes.
What was his brother doing? Of course, he knew that Faeldor said he would marry Gilwen. His brother had explained, that doing such a thing would make Gilwen like a sister to them. But Gilwen was obviously not like a sister to Faeldor; because brothers and sisters did not kiss each other in a way like that. Faelon smiled.
At the tender age of eight, he knew a couple things about girls. One, was that for some reason boys were supposed to like them. And two, was that they liked polite and gentle boys. The first, Faelon had heard from his friends, and the second was something his brother had laughingly told him. Both, he knew, were very true.
He fretted for a moment; wondering if he would ever fall asleep again and wake to the morning, but before the thoughts had barely crossed his mind, his eyes had fallen closed and his breathing steadied, and soon enough he had drifted back to sleep..
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Gilwen
Man
servant
There are times when silence has the loudest voice.[Mo0:0]
Posts: 593
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Post by Gilwen on Sept 18, 2009 20:53:00 GMT -5
Faeldor knew—he had to know—how much she cared for him. Indeed the way he tightened his arms about her and resumed his eager kisses certainly attested to the fact that he understood how deep her feelings ran. And each one seemed to repeat those three words as a giant echo might in a cave. She certainly believed him. It seemed their passions had begun to slow, and their kisses began to fade away as both grew more eager to simply hold and be held.
Gilwen did not mind; she was, after all, someone who did enjoy to nuzzle and just be close. So she let him pull her head against his shoulder, and she went a bit further and buried her face against his neck with a sigh. His hand traced down her spine, and he inquired as to how she was feeling. Was she cold? Well, the night air was certainly chilled—but with his arms wrapped around her so she could barely feel it. And even if she were to speak on it and admit that perhaps she was a bit cold, he would simply stand and move away to fetch her something to warm with. That was not what she wanted. “I am fine,” she answered, then. Smiling and nuzzling into him all the more. “You are quite warm enough.” And it was true. His body heat seemed to seep through his silk and enfold her.
Perhaps it was her size, but the little thing was always cold—or seemed to always be, anyway. It could have been, in part, due to the fact her family was not terribly well nourished, either. Whatever the reason, Gilwen did not truly care. She had learned to live and adapt to it well; Gondor was a southern country, and for that she was grateful.
Aside, she did desire to stay close to her Stable Master. If she was a bit chilled, then perhaps it simply gave her reason to burrow closer. If they could possibly get any closer. Indeed, the little woman thought it would be impossible. Still, there with him she could not be in foul spirits, and the wine was certainly keeping her mind on topics that warmed her heart.
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Faeldor
Man
Head Stablemaster
Do we walk in legends or on the green earth in the daylight?[Mo0:1]
Posts: 556
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Post by Faeldor on Sept 20, 2009 18:00:55 GMT -5
“If I am heat enough, than I shall do my best to warm you sufficiently,” Faeldor smiled as the woman burrowed against him. The soft hair that pressed against his neck was soothing, and the arms were comforting. He knew that even if she was cold, she would not admit it to him, but he was content to sit with her as she was. And so they did, though the loving man was not entirely stilled in his motions, and it was often that he let his hands slide across the fabric of Gilwen’s dress soothingly, and let kisses lay upon her face.
After some amount of time had passed, the Stable Master felt called to the duty of seeing that his lady found her way home safely, and with at least some hours to rest before needing to rise for her work in the morning. “Shall I take you home, Starlight? Before it gets too late that your parents worry...” The last was more of a quiet statement than any. He would not wish Beregar to rile up the way he had before when Faeldor had kept his daughter out. There was no need for such displeasure in their family.
At this hour, Faeldor would certainly see the lady right to her door. He wished to see her mother’s eyes when Niniel saw her beloved daughter dressed so elegantly. It would be worth it, even if Beregar were to be out. Perhaps the father would be so taken by his daughter as well as to not make any foul statements toward the Stable Master. After all, it had been three weeks, had it not? The last time he had seen the man was that dreadful morning when he had been quite drunk and beyond himself. Certainly, though, Beregar would not be drunken tonight. After all, their family could not afford such a thing. And he had held plenty of time to calm down. Faeldor wished to make a positive presence in the eyes of the man, that he may soon be well enough looked on to ask for Gilwen’s hand.
The Stable Master pressed his lips to Gilwen’s hair a few times, unwilling yet to have her move off of him to stand up. “I have enjoyed my evening quite well,” he smiled against the dark locks. “There could be no better birthday gift, than to have had you here with me. I hardly deserve to hold such a beautiful thing within my arms.” At that, he wrapped them more tightly about the lady. “You are so lovely, both inside and out.”
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Gilwen
Man
servant
There are times when silence has the loudest voice.[Mo0:0]
Posts: 593
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Post by Gilwen on Sept 20, 2009 19:10:42 GMT -5
He had not tried to contest her, or pry her from his lap to get her a blanket, and for that Gilwen was utterly thankful. She had sat with him for a time as they were, the periodic kisses and gentle hands lulling her into an extreme comfort and warmth that no blanket could have ever gifted her.
She had done her own part with impulsive shows of affection, from nuzzling his neck to kissing his jaw and cheek; and it seemed altogether too soon that the time was to come to an end.
She had tucked her head right under his chin, her mind not even thinking of the home she would return to, or the day ahead tomorrow. She had listened to his breathing, though, and felt his heartbeat. She could think of nothing else, except how such things soothed her and pleased her.
“Shall I take you home, Starlight? Before it gets too late that your parents worry...”
Gilwen frowned and lifted her head from where she had burrowed and said slowly, “I should head home.” She agreed. But she never dared utter the words that she would like to leave him for her parents. In truth, she had no idea what to expect; her father had likely noticed her absence by now. Mama was probably trying to keep him calm for her return home, or at least that was what Gilwen imagined. Indeed, she was pondering the thought of having to walk to her door alone—she could never ask or allow Faeldor to do such a thing!—when he distracted her with more words.
“There could be no better birthday gift, than to have had you here with me. I hardly deserve to hold such a beautiful thing within my arms.”
The kisses he let loose in her hair had made her smile, though these words caused a blush to return to her cheeks. And the way his arms tightened about her did not allow her to escape to head off yet. Still, she lifted her hand to lay lightly upon his cheek; eyes calmly and lovingly holding his own gaze. “I think it strange you feel you do not deserve it—I would never wish to be held by another.” The words were bold—a byproduct of both her comfort and the wine she had taken earlier. Still, the color that flushed her cheeks did not distract her from the gentle adoration she tried to show.
He thought her lovely? Was it ever going to be hard to pry herself from her lap! Her own father did not look upon her fondly anymore. She knew, somewhere, he still loved her. That was why he was so hurt by the rumors and disgraced. There were times when it would almost show outwardly. But this…Faeldor did not hide it, he was not disappointed. Such a comfort, he was.
After a few moments of holding his gaze intently and steadily she lowered her hand to his arm, the other doing the same. She kissed his cheek and made a move to pry herself from his lap. Should she wait any longer, she would desire to stay far more than she would care about propriety. “I do not wish to go,” she said quietly so he did not misunderstand her eagerness. “But you are right—my parents shall worry.”
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“And you let her go?” Beregar snapped.
Niniel was standing, face set firmly in a frown and arms crossed, by the doorway. “Of course I did, Beregar. You are behaving like a child.” She retorted sternly. She had finally explained that Gilwen had gone to see Faeldor for his birthday, and this news the man had not taken well in the least.
“I forbade her from seeing him. He is not to see her,” he repeated with a growl. “What exactly are they doing this late at night, Niniel? Do you think they would not have their way with one another?”
Niniel scoffed. “You have no faith in your own daughter anymore. They will do nothing with one another in that way. Honestly! Faeldor is a good man—“
“Do not say his name.” Beregar interrupted forcefully clenching his fists. There was a moment of silence and the little woman was still clearly upset. “Where, then, did they go, Niniel?”
Niniel could not answer. For a moment her bravado fell away. She should have inquired—all she knew was that Gilwen had gone to the stables. “She met him at the stables at sundown. Perhaps they went for a ride—“
“Yes, I am sure they did.” Beregar snapped, biting words and undertones evident in the way he used the words.
“Beregar!” Niniel half-yelled. “That is enough!”
“If he has touched her—I cannot believe you have condoned this,” Beregar began to mutter heatedly as he wheeled and made way back to his room. Niniel’s heart quickened.
“What are you doing?” She asked cautiously.
Beregar did not answer. Instead, he marched right back to the closet and found his sword. Grasping it in hand he moved back out to the sitting room, skirting around two trunks as they lay in the middle of the floor to see out the window.
“Put that away!” Niniel shrieked in alarm. “You will not hurt him,” she added.
“Won’t I?” Beregar scoffed in response, not taking his burning eyes from the street, though finally he turned. “He should be walking her home, if he is such the gentleman. He shall learn my threats are truth.”
Niniel sighed exasperatedly and lingered near the doorway. If she could get Gilwen in, without Beregar getting out—perhaps Faeldor would be able to make it home in one piece.
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