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 22, 2009 17:15:27 GMT -5
“I think it strange you feel you do not deserve it—I would never wish to be held by another.” Faeldor only smiled and held the woman closer. His thoughts roved to the fact that in just one year… perhaps by the next ball, they would be sitting in their own home at this time. Perhaps they would not have a garden; fate only knew where they would end up. Gilwen, though, would certainly have this man’s arms. Nothing could change that fact.
Faeldor contemplated for a moment, until finally his lady had kissed his cheek and pulled herself away from him the slightest. Indeed, the way she had been relaxed well against him, and her soft movements were enough to let him know that she did not wish to return home; yet she verbalized it to confirm his own thoughts.
“Indeed, I must return you to your parents,” he smiled, loosening his grip on her to cup her cheek and hand, and pressing one more soft kiss to her lips. Then, he allowed her to stand, but even as he did so, he moved with her and never let his arm leave her side, tucking it lightly around her as he began to lead her around the house from the gardens. The man was now quite calm; and the thought of walking the little woman to her home did him no trouble. “Though, I am in no rush to walk you home quickly,” he smiled. They might meander slowly through the streets, for at this already late hour, what harm could a few extra moments do her? “I am much to wearied by all the dance to walk fast now,” he explained lightheartedly, slowing his pace.
“Oh, will they not be glad to see you, my beauty?” the man said lightly, stopping for a moment as they came to the corner of the house and entered the street. He pressed Gilwen against him for just a moment, not pleased with the idea of relinquishing her for the evening, but entirely glad of his previous thoughts. It would not be long; certainly Beregar and Niniel would understood how he loved her. He let his hand once more against her cheek, and his lips brushed her forehead.
The sound of bright voices approaching led the man to continue his walk. Certainly that was his sister Narbeleth approaching and Calon. He was grateful that the young woman was turning home finally, and his spirits were so light and calmed by Gilwen that he barely paid it heed, as he continued to walk onward. He did not wish to be interrupted at the moment from his lady; nor share her with any that would pass by, even if it were just his sister wishing to give her greeting. Aside, if Narbeleth had made it this far, she certainly should make it home now without his worry. He would speak with her at a later time about her late return; yet, he knew in his heart that he had not much to say nor lecture on the fact; for he was taking Gilwen home late as well. At any rate, the wine and the woman had certainly lightened Faeldor’s spirits, and there was nothing that could upset him.
At least, that was what he thought. As they made it down tier by tier, they came to the third level, and eventually Faeldor had brought the lady to her doorstep. He had not strayed on this doorstep at all the past three weeks, yet tonight he felt it would be allowed. Of course, the man had released Gilwen, just holding onto her hand now for the sake of appearing compromised in front of her parents. Certainly to hold a lady’s hand was not at all compromising. “I should be glad to see your mother look upon you, Starlight,” he said quickly, before she argued at having him stray when she entered.
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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 22, 2009 17:52:07 GMT -5
He agreed that she had to be returned to her parents, though he did not seem eager to do so in the least. In fact, he held her tenderly and kissed her lips once more. Oh, if she could have stayed away from her parents’ house for the whole of the evening, she would have done so. Still, even as they stood he did not release her completely and kept her close.
“Oh, will they not be glad to see you, my beauty?”
Without thinking Gilwen replied evenly, “My mother shall certainly be.” She made no mention of her father. Indeed, she was quite certain he would not be in the least pleased at having her return home so late. Especially when he learned of where she had spent her evening. She grinned girlishly and bit her lip as she looked up at him. “And she shall think you look handsome, too.” For some reason, the wine and moments sitting within his arms had made her feel somewhat bolder. Still, she also desired to keep her beloved’s mind away from Thoughts on her father. After all, he would not cross paths with him this evening. He would leave her upon the fourth tier, the same place he would pick her up again tomorrow.
He began to lead her down the street, gripping her close and pressing a kiss to her forehead with a great tenderness that made the woman smile all the more. She thought of stilling their steps for some moments to return such soft kisses, but knew in her heart that such would only lead to a desire. A desire for him, and none left to return to her home. So, she allowed him to keep moving. Once they were at the fourth tier she tried to break herself away, but he would not be swayed. Indeed, she was taken right to her doorstep.
“Fael, this is not a good idea.” She murmured hastily to him, her eyes frowning slightly with such fear and uncertainty. But he simply countered with words that he seemed to have been working on all the way home. “I should be glad to see your mother look upon you, Starlight.” “Faeldor, it is not my Mama I am worried over,” she muttered quickly and lovingly, gripping his hand tightly—those hands that he was risking by taking her here and being seen.
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“There he is, the swine.” Beregar grumbled standing from the window. In truth, he paid no mind to the manner in which they approached. He merely saw the form of a woman, and of a tall man hand in hand. It was enough to convince him it was his wayward daughter and that sixth-tier pig that had laid claim upon her and taken her dignity.
“Beregar, do put your sword down.” Niniel retorted firmly, though the man seemed to pay her no heed. She looked out the window herself, though in the darkness she could not see the loveliness of the pair. Though, she did not quite remember the dress Gilwen was wearing.
“I have told him to stay away from our house and our daughter.” He snapped, brushing past Niniel in a fury and grasping the doorknob with a strong hand and flinging it open.
Gilwen and Faeldor were standing upon the doorstep, hands clasped together. The man seemed rather confident, though Beregar merely thought him mad. He held the sword glinting in the firelight of his house. “What did I say about my daughter?” He grumbled angrily.
“Oh, Gilwen! You look lovely!” Niniel’s voice came and she weaseled her way past her husband—who was taking up most of the doorway—to get a better look.
If Beregar had been trying to be intimidating, it was shattered in that moment. He realized instantly his daughter was in a fine dress, and the man’s eyes fell on her with such awe and adoration that his sword lowered to his side, heavy.
“Thank you, Mama.” Gilwen replied cautiously.
“And look at you, Faeldor!” Niniel chimed in fine spirits. “Oh, don’t you look handsome. Quite a pair the both of you make, for certain.” She crossed her arms to look them over, her mothering heart soaring with such joy and elation that her face was as bright as the fire inside the hearth. “Did you take our Gilwen to the ball?” Niniel asked eagerly. Oh, he must have! No other event would have warranted such attire.
Beregar was simply lost; his tongue, his momentary rage. It had all disappeared from him. It was simply a look of wonder. He had never seen his daughter dressed so fine—never could he have afforded such a dress to gift her. His eyes turned to Faeldor. Had he given her this?
“Happy birthday, dear,” Niniel added to Faeldor with a smile. “Oh, but doesn’t our daughter look beautiful, Beregar?”
Beregar looked to his wife stricken for a moment. “Yes,” he finally agreed. It was slow, and low. Clearly he was not wishing for Faeldor to hear such a softness from him. Gilwen, though, was instantly elated and pleased. Though nothing more than a small smile crossed her face. The rest sparkled in her eyes.
“Thank you, Papa.” Gilwen murmured quietly. She glanced to Faeldor; he had done well to escape unscathed so far. Oh, her father had come to the door with his sword! It was a wonder he had caught himself. She wished greatly to gift him one last kiss, and speak to him on seeing him tomorrow; but with the metal weapon so nearby she could not bring herself to do it. Instead she whispered, “Thank you for seeing me to my door.”
“Oh, do come inside, Gilwen. I should love to hear of your evening.” Niniel chimed, stepping aside, and giving Beregar a firm nudge to allowe her entry.
Gilwen sighed inwardly, though was contented by such a reaction. Her mother was a bit nosey and prying, perhaps. But it was better than being angered, she supposed.
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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 22, 2009 21:30:52 GMT -5
“What did I say about my daughter?” Faeldor had not taken but a moment on the step when the door was swung open, and the large and threatening figure of Beregar took up the entirety of the frame. He held a polished sword in gripped fist, and his face was the epitome of a raging father. Faeldor did not answer the question, but steeled himself firm, and held Gilwen’s hand tightly. He did not entirely fear the loss of his own hands; but he braced himself for the raging fit that was sure to come.
Thankfully, it was only moments before Niniel stepped in and noted the attire that the two were dressed in. It seemed as if she pointed it out that Beregar softened slightly, and his sword was lowered.
“Did you take our Gilwen to the ball?” Faeldor managed a smile, despite the sword that was still glinting in the firelight. Had he merely been cleaning that sword, or was it out for a reason of pure intimidation? The Stable Master guessed the latter was the truth of things. “Yes,” Faeldor answered shortly, though with a warm inflection to his voice. “It was arduous to keep the surprise from her for so long.” He relaxed slightly, at the approval that Beragar seemed to have for the lovely girl beside him. Oh, but his heart leapt at the look Beregar had given her! He knew how angry the man had been with her, and everything was worth the look in Gilwen’s eyes as her distant father praised her with just his one word answer.
“Thank you for seeing me to my door.” The man’s breath returned once more at Gilwen’s voice, and he smiled upon her. “You are very welcome,” he said quietly in return. The fact that he would meet her again in the morning would be implied, for he would not bring himself to say such in front of her father; should the man ban them from walking together. It was near the only time he had been able to see Gilwen lately, and he treasured that walk indeed. He would wait for her as ever at the gate of the fourth tier.
Niniel had parted Beregar from the door. Oh, her eyes were pleasant! He was glad that the mother was so pleased, for she as well as Faeldor knew how beautiful Gilwen was. She seemed so excited to hear of the evening; indeed, he knew his mother would ask her own questions on the morrow. Certainly Niniel would have allowed Faeldor inside, though with Beregar standing at hand with a sword, even with the display of mildness he had offered, the Stable Master would not dare enter at this moment. His eyes turned from the cheery woman, back down to the quiet lady at his side.“Goodnight, my love,” was all he could bring himself to mutter, for Gilwen’s ears alone, though it was certainly loud enough for the others to hear. He squeezed her hand lovingly, and risked the pressing of a kiss to her temple. His lips were warm and comforting and he lingered near her for a moment, before finally stepping back and releasing her hand.
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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 22, 2009 21:59:31 GMT -5
“A surprise! Oh, I cannot wait to hear of it!” Niniel’s eyes were dancing indeed. Oh, such a fine boy her Gilwen had found. He was so gentle. And brave. Her eyes flashed to Beregar. If she had been in his stead, she might not have been so bold; her husband was tall and certainly held visible and crafted muscles from his years of training. Oh, to answer the door with a sword in hand! How ridiculous her husband was being!
Gilwen smiled shyly up at her Horse Master as he spoke to her. She was a bit apprehensive that he would add on something that said they would see each other in the morrow, though was quite contented when he did not. She would find him leaning against the gate of the fourth tier the next morning—just like always. Her eyes certainly spoke to him of how she longed for the morrow to come sooner. Meeting him and walking with him made the rest of her day bearable. He was so wonderful to her.
“Goodnight, my love.”
Beregar instantly tensed at the words, and his knuckled clenched tighter the sword in his hand. Gilwen certainly blushed—if she had found a voice she would have scolded Faeldor for speaking so openly in front of her father. Indeed her heart began to hammer as she watched him shift his weight.
Niniel simply looked overjoyed. Her daughter was quite sure that nothing had ever made her smile so widely. Though, however wrong she was. No sooner had the thought passed through her mind then did she feel a bristled warmth against her temple. What had he done?! She gasped slightly, and looked to him almost in disbelief. Was her father not standing there in the doorway, sword in hand? Was her Faeldor mad?
Niniel clasped her hands together and could have broke into some form of happy release in the way of dance, though settled for a beaming smile and flushed cheeks of joy. That was unsettling enough for Gilwen. But it was her father that sent her over the edge.
Faeldor released her hand and began to back away, and Gilwen felt her father’s protective but strong hand pull her inside as he stepped forward, eyes once more raging. “You took my daughter this eve without my knowledge. You bring her to my doorstep, after being forbidden of seeing her, and lay your lips upon her? Do you think me a fool, boy? Leave.” He made move to raise his sword.
“Beregar!” Niniel sighed, still too happy with the display to be angry at her husband. Still, she held his arm gently and pulled herself close, much in the same manner Gilwen herself had done to Faeldor earlier. “Do come inside, Beregar. We all need rest.”
Beregar was stunned by such a thing. For one, it was rare for Niniel to publicly display any sort of attentions to him. For another, he had just finished scolding Faeldor for the same reckless behavior. But mostly, he had been devoid of contact with her for some time over their petty arguments. Well, at least not contact like this.
Gilwen was stunned herself, and then she turned her eyes back to Faeldor to bid him leave. “I shall see you tomorrow,” she mouthed while her parents were otherwise occupied and smiled sweetly at him. It was best for him to escape while her father was occupied. That sword was newly sharpened.
"Do come inside," Niniel repeated gently.
Beregar gave one last look to Faeldor, fierce and fiery still before wrapping an arm about his wife's shoulders and turning to the door. "You remember my rules," he called to Faeldor as he retreated. He looked to Gilwen once more, studying her critically for a moment before simply closing the door behind him. My, she did look lovely--especially now in the firelight. His daughter had never looked so adult before.
"Gilwen, I am certain you need rest," the woman chimed. "I shall speak to you tomorrow of the ball. Do not forget details as you sleep, dear!" She grinned.
Gilwen smiled in response. "Of course not, Mama." And with that all three parted and went to bed, though Gilwen lingered by the window long enough to see Faeldor pass out of sight. She slept that evening with a smile upon her face. What a pleasant evening!
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