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 Mar 10, 2009 21:21:57 GMT -5
The man flinched as well at the sound of the clattering pots and other dishes. He hoped nothing had broken, for some of the cooks had mighty tempers, and he felt sorry for the nervous looking servant that must have caused the commotion, and was hurriedly trying to clean up the mess before she got too much in the way.
“Well I take that as my signal that it is time for me to leave and let the kitchen staff have at their noon show.” Faeldor winked at Gilwen, then went to his mother to kiss her cheek once more. “I will see you at home tonight mother. And I may be a bit late if I happen to find someone to help me take my horses out on the Pelennor. Hold my supper, for I have spent my lunch break talking, and will surely be hungry.”
“Of course I will, and I will see you tonight,” Meleth replied with a smile. “And it was good to have you in as well, Gilwen.” Her words were a gentle cue that this would be the time for her to leave the bakery as well, for the fuss was sure to draw a crowd and though Meleth knew the girl was a hard worker, she would not want her seen standing idle.
Faeldor pocketed an apple from the shelf to eat on the way back to work, and then walked back over to Gilwen. Before she had a chance to deny it to him, he gently took her hand and kissed it courteously, as was the custom to do for a noble lady. Then he released it shortly, so as not to embarrass her. “It has been a pleasure meeting you today. Sometimes bumping into someone in the hall can lead to quite a noble outcome.”
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Gilwen
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servant
There are times when silence has the loudest voice.[Mo0:0]
Posts: 593
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Post by Gilwen on Mar 10, 2009 22:40:04 GMT -5
Gilwen nodded once to Meleth as she turned on her heels to begin making her way over to the main kitchen area so as to show up for her duty on time. However, Faeldor swept himself right into her path and placed a kiss on her hand before she even had time to protest. She blushed red, embarrassed at the display her hands gave. From years of laundry duty, and scrubbing duties about the palace, Gilwen's once soft hands were chapped, red and rough. 'Hands of a man.] or so she deemed them. She tried to draw attention away from them as much as was humanly possible in her line of work, considering them shameful and honorable at the same time.
The honor came from the proof of her work. There was not a soul who looked at her hands that wouldn't know she was a dedicated maid and cleaner. However, she considered them highly unladylike, and thought them much more noticeable than they actually were.
As he released her hand, she stuffed them deeply into the folds of her skirts. "It certainly has had quite the noble outcome." She agreed through red cheeks. The brunette kept her tone even enough, as flushed as her face felt. Gilwen glanced over her shoulder at Meleth before beginning to skirt around Faeldor and rid herself of the horrid embarrassment she felt. Though, as she moved, she found herself embarrassed with how she was so embarrassed about her hands. It was a downward spiral that didn't seem to end.
Faeldor wouldn't understand. And she meant no offense to him. She paused and turned back to look at him, giving him an easy smile to show that she was not upset at him, however it looked from his perspective. I shall see you this evening. She thought to herself as she turned back, stooping down to assist the fidgeting young servant pickup the pots without a sound, which seemed alien at this particular moment in the kitchens.
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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 Mar 11, 2009 16:29:35 GMT -5
After Gilwen had left, Faeldor turned for a moment to look back at his mother. She raised an eyebrow at him. Sometimes ladies behaved unexpectedly. He was used to that, for his own sisters were shocking evidence. Faeldor had noticed from the touch that her hands were more worn and calloused than most ladies he knew, but he didn’t give it a second thought, and did not even consider that to be the cause of her embarrassment. She worked as a maid after all. He had noticed her flushed appearance though. At least she had smiled, though it seemed forced.
“Careful now, dear, I do believe you’ve embarrassed the poor thing,” Meleth said quietly, so as not to be overheard in the kitchen. Though the clatter of noise would overshadow any soft voices coming from the back bakery. “Did you just meet her then?”
“Yes; bumped into her in the hall.” Faeldor shrugged. How was he supposed to know that a usually sound farewell and greeting would upset the lady? She seemed a modest woman, and perhaps she was just nervous for the commotion happening in the kitchen, for she had been quick to assist.
“Well, either way, I am sure you shall see her again. She is unusually quiet and precocious about her work, and I’ve never seen anyone here in the palace get such a gleeful look out of her anyway, at the mention of those horses of yours. Who would have known?” Meleth said. Sometimes the most interesting of passions lit up the most interesting of people.
“Who indeed?” Faeldor commented to himself more than his mother, before nodding to his mother and smiling, and then stepping out of the bakery and through the kitchen quickly to avoid causing more trouble among the mass of people. He had not seen where Gilwen had stepped off to, though he was certain that he had seen the Head of the servants enter the room and assess the commotion of the situation. Hopes that Gilwen would not be scolded for her troubles! ---
Quite a time later, as the evening came upon the city, and the sun was low in the sky, Faeldor was assigning the last of the nightly chores to the stablehands. The afternoon shift had left, and though there were fewer to watch in the night, some young men and older boys, and one older man, were now to take on the primary duties. Mainly those were of preparing the morning feed in advance, and being at hand to assist should a dire need of horses arise for the Guard. Usually this was the simplest shift, work wise. Tired eyes were the most difficult work though, and Faeldor knew, for his position had once been at nights. Since then, he had had to let many go for falling asleep on the job.
Now his time was his own, and Faeldor prepared to go take care of his horses. Of course, the stable lads saw to their own grooming and exercise, but Faeldor had the horses for a reason, and the reason was not only his work, but he took a joy in both equestrians and the riding of them. His own horses stood in two stalls near the middle of the stables, and on his way, Faeldor stopped to check on the horses at the near end of the stables; those belonging specifically to the Steward and his sons.
Fit and lively, they were the best of the best. Even among their duties, the young Captains often had business to attend to and needed their horses, but the young mare belonging specifically to Lord Denethor seemed to rarely have use these days. The Steward spent more and more of his time in the palace, and less time travelling between Minas Tirith and Osgiliath. He reached over the manger to stroke the great neck of the mare before walking down the great stable hall to his own stalls. He remembered the comment that he had made earlier in the day to the servant woman, Gilwen, and he took his time, looking into each stall which he passed to see that there was no trouble. Though he was anxious to leave the stables before the light left them, it was necessary that he wait a bit longer in case the lady still wished to join him, for he had offered it to her afterall. He had not bothered to ask her when she was free of her own duties, and attested to himself to wait a time longer just in case.
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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 Mar 11, 2009 18:36:29 GMT -5
"You may go now, Gilwen."
Those were the five words the young woman had been praying to hear all afternoon, and towards the end of the day she had become antsy, shifting weight multiple times, and giving fleeting glances to the windows that she passed to see the sun. It was sinking low, and inwardly she begged to be released.
It had finally happened, and Gilwen had sped right out of the palace, broke into a full run and rushed into the stables, straightening her hair and skirts as she entered into the calm building, with slightly heavy breathing from her sprint down. She calmly looked about the stalls, a few stray eyes of the young men taking over found her in a questionable gaze, but she dismissed them almost immediately and began to move down the stalls.
She saw a tall young man with dark hair toward the ends of the stalls, and she assumed it must be Faeldor. She sincerely hoped that it wasn't going to be to late for a ride---she had rushed out as soon as she could. She passed the horses, giving each a wonderful smile as she passed. It was such a warm place, Gilwen felt so welcome. A few whinnied as she passed, but she couldn't stop to pet them now.
"I am truly sorry that the sun is so low!" She said almost breathlessly as soon as she was within earshot of the stable master. "It seems sometimes that the hallways do not end." She added in light jest. She tried to examine his face, and his posture to see if he was upset at her at all, however they had hardly known each other long enough for her to see that yet.
"I am ready now," She added softly.
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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 Mar 11, 2009 21:22:58 GMT -5
The doorways of the stables cast long shadows up and down the halls, but Faeldor heard the soft voice of the woman before he saw her shadow. He turned at the sound of it, and waited for her to catch up to him before speaking and continuing. Faeldor stood straight and tall, his hands clasped behind his back, and a bemused smile on his countenance.
As much as he had wondered if he had upset her at their parting, Gilwen surely did not seem upset now. In fact, her eyes seemed brighter than before, and she looked full of energy. Her cheeks were flushed as if she had been running, and her hair was in slight disarray from the wind. “Good eve, my Lady Gilwen.” He gave her a short bow after looking her over. He concluded that if she had been upset, she was no longer, and his smile widened.
“Good, then since that you are ready; there is no time to waste, for we should at least reach the gates before dusk. We should not go far this evening, but let us take a breath outside of the city at least,” he smiled. Besides, the dark would do them no harm as long as they did not stray far from the city walls, and the horses would do well enough by moonlight, for they would stay on the road. There was no sense in taking a lady of whom he barely knew somewhere dangerous.
“Now, I must ask you two things, and the first is this; how sound of a rider are you, my lady? And the second is if you are expected home at a certain time, for we merely planned this in the morning, and you surely have not had time to tell your parents or guardians that you will be out, and if we need plan the length of our ride accordingly” Faeldor said this because he was uncertain of the age of this lady, save that she was young and if she indeed was held responsible by for another.
By the time Faeldor had finished speaking, they had approached the stalls of his own horses. Faeldor had two of his own. And why would a person need two horses? One might wonder. “This is Lumiel,” he motioned to the first one, a horse of average size, the color of deep grey storm clouds, darkening to black on the end of her nose and at her haunches and hooves. Her mane was coal black as well, and her eyes glistening. At the sight of her master she stepped forward and placed her head over the manager, hoping for affection. “She is nine years old, and swift. I should like you to ride her, for her sister here, Thissel…” As he spoke he motioned to the horse in the next stall. “…She is younger, and shy to new people. She is good for me, but likely to startle for others. She is only three, you see, and I am still training her.” Thissel was of the same markings as Lumiel, though a few shades lighter in color, and she also came forward for her master’s hand, yet more slowly and looked warily sideways at Gilwen.
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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 Mar 11, 2009 22:21:22 GMT -5
Gilwen curtsied back, a small but fluid motion in response to the swift bow he offered. "Good eve," She responded quietly. It seemed that he wasn't upset, or thought her late: his wide smile seemed to suggest he found something about it that was amusing, at least in her mind. Quickly she straightened her hair, or at least attempted to as best as she could with no reflection to see.
They began to move down that stable, passing more beautiful horses. It was almost like a dream, to be surrounded by so many lovely creatures. She yearned for her own, however, on her salary there was no chance for her to ever afford the upkeep. It was sad to her, really, though it hardly brought her down in spirits. She held a job where she could whisk away to the royal stables instead. And now, met the stable head, that would take her riding. It seemed a gracious bit of luck.
Her attention was taken back to Faeldor as he asked the maid two questions that seemed relatively simple, but sent the young woman into a reel of laughter. "Forgive me, my lord." She said quickly, as she tried to quell her laughter. "I am five and twenty, I dare say my parents will allow me home whenever I wish to be. How old do you take me for, may I ask?" She looked young, she would warrant that. And by the display of her attitudes this morning, she seemed rather childish, if not immature. It was no surprise to her that he inquired about time, even if to Gilwen it seemed absurd. "As for the riding, I am fairly sound." She was no expert horseman, that was for certain. Though she could hold her own, and fairly well.
They stopped in front of two stormy mares and Gilwen smiled and dropped her jaw a little in awe. They were beautiful, both. Gilwen looked to Faeldor with a wide smile and said, "They are absolutely wonderful!" It was soft, she didn't wish to spook the skittish mare, Thissel. It was apparent they were very well cared for.
Lumiel, hm? She thought lovingly, inching her hand up to stroke the mare's nose. She moved slowly, unsure whether or not the horse would take to her, though she seemed friendly enough.
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Faeldor
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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 Mar 12, 2009 7:20:30 GMT -5
“And I should be forgiven as well, for I took you for much younger, perhaps not twenty. It is a relief to me now though, for I should hate to take you out with the thought that I am disobeying your dear parents.” His thoughts were not unrequited though, for Gilwen was more petite than even the oldest of his sisters, who were eighteen and twenty-two. “And it is just as well, for now I should be your friend, and not your nanny, for I am only one year older than you.” He grinned, and after patting Thissel, went back over to open the stall door of Lumiel. Not enough for the horse to come out, but enough for Gilwen to enter. She should at least become acquainted for a moment before riding her.
Lumiel was a horse who would be gentle with most any person, from his grandfather down to his littlest sister. And she was perfect for the great number of people who he let ride her. Faeldor had no fear that the mare would do anything out of the ordinary with Gilwen, and so was glad that even Gilwen was not nervous around the mare. She side stepped to allow room for the others to enter. Thissel’s head looked over the manger between the stalls and waited patiently for her own turn with her master, for she knew now that it was the time for them to go running.
“They are good horses. Lumiel here, she was a gift from my father. And when I chose the second myself I thought to have her from the same mare. So they are sisters, and they are both beautiful.” Lumiel stood still in the stall, for she was awaiting her saddle and tack, knowing that her time to go outside was here. Faeldor took no delay, and went to the wall peg to pull it down.
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Gilwen
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servant
There are times when silence has the loudest voice.[Mo0:0]
Posts: 593
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Post by Gilwen on Mar 12, 2009 18:03:19 GMT -5
Gilwen skirted about the stall door, stepping lightly into the stall of the beautiful mare. Lumiel's friendly demeanor did not change, nor did she seem afraid in the least, so the young woman felt completely comfortable. "Perhaps not twenty?" She repeated lively, as she reached a hand up and placed it tenderly on the mare's neck and began to move it in long strokes, a tender but strong way of showing her friendly intentions. "That is quite young to think me," she tossed him a glance and smile, "though I do understand what drew you to it." She had always been small, and oftentimes criticized herself when she was younger for never looking her age.
Still, not even twenty was something she didn't get very often as far as guesses went for her age. Normally they guessed at least twenty. She was enthralled with the beautiful horse, running her fingers through her well-kept mane and smiling softly. It seemed so lovely to just handle these animals all day. Inwardly, she was a bit jealous of Faeldor.
Your father picked an excellent companion. She thought as she continued to listen to the stable master's words. She could hear his footsteps, and glanced behind her to see him working with the tack, a movement that excited her just as much as it excited the horses. She hadn't been able to ride in so long, whether it was for time constraints or simply because her family no longer owned a horse, she hadn't gotten time to just ride.
Excitedly, Gilwen shifted her weight enthusiastically, but quickly threw her gaze to the horse once more. She didn't want to come across any more childish than she already had that morning. It would certainly not help her perceived age if she behaved like a child. Frowning slightly, she wondered if she came across that way often. When she was at work, nobody would ever dare call her "childlike", she was to reliable a worker, and completely silent. Still, if you caught her at the right time, like today with Faeldor, the presumption would not be such a far leap.
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Faeldor
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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 Mar 12, 2009 19:03:21 GMT -5
“I had meant no offense by my own guess. My mother always told me that it was a compliment to tell a lady that she looked young.” He glanced at her, smiling, hoping his teasing would also not insult her. Most anyone could tell that if Faeldor was smiling, he meant no harm.
Perhaps she did not seem so young afterall… then again, once you know a person’s age, it is difficult to think of them differently. Though some might think her plain, Faeldor was keen on seeing the beauty within a person. He did not know Gilwen well enough to judge her, but already by her careful servitude in the palace, and her love for horses, he began to see her as beautiful. Though Faeldor was a responsible man at his work, he was fond of laughing when off duty, and could easily forgive Gilwen for acting so lively, for she had been inside the walls of the palace the entire day, where one must be only quiet and proper. To him, it did not seem childish. Childishness was something shown in the actions of his siblings when they fought or argued over petty circumstances. Joy was shown in liveliness. He smoothed the hairs of Lumel’s back, and placed a saddle cloth over her withers.
Then he lifted the saddle gently into place; the pommel lying just behind the withers. Though instead of fastening the leather girth, and bridling the horse, he stopped. Faeldor could probably tighten a saddle properly and more quickly than any other man in the stables, but he wished to see Gilwen’s knowledge, and from this it would help him to see where her model of horsemanship lay. He would be glad to show her should she not know, and would not wish to embarrass her, but if he were to take someone riding, he may as well give them a lesson while at it.
“From here I should like to see your own skills,” he told her. He took the bridle from it’s own hook and held onto it, ready to hand it to Gilwen after she had fastened the saddle properly, and loosened the girth to make sure she was not pinching the horse. The man knew she did not have a horse of her own, and understood that even most women who rode often would have someone else to fasten their saddles for them, but by the way her face brightened up and she seemed at peace already with Lumiel, perhaps she had more experience than he had thought. Either way, she would know by the end of today how to tack her horse if she did not now.
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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 Mar 12, 2009 23:53:19 GMT -5
Gilwen laughed slightly at his comment. "My mother has told me the same. It seems, my lord, you have a good head upon your shoulders!" She watched, and maneuvered out of the way as Faeldor, almost gracefully, placed the saddle into its place. She imagined that if he had continued, it would have looked something akin to a dance as he prepared Lumiel to be taken out.
She wasn't really surprised, after all Faeldor spent every day working with horses and tending and caring for them. Though, she was highly impressed. However, the dance remained unfinished, he stopped and turned to her. Gilwen looked up at him, and threw her hair back over her shoulder. A challenge. And one she would certainly rise to. Her smile faded, though not because she was upset by any means. Her face, almost instantly hardened. Her features didn't seem as soft, and to anybody who had seen her working about the palace would recognize Gilwen's work face.
While it was primarily only seen in the palace walls, Gilwen found herself making the same face outside of work when approached with any sort of challenge or task that she felt required seriousness, or simply concentration. And it had been a while since she had prepared a horse for a ride.
She worked silently, just as she did in the palace. Giving Lumiel a tender pat on the side, she reached under her to fasten the girth. It wasn't nearly as graceful as what Faeldor would have done, or could have done, but still it worked.
"Go ahead, Gilwen. Pull it tight. Don't jerk it, nice and easy." Her father's words came to her as the brunette fastened the saddle. She pulled tightly, though not so tight that the mare would be uncomfortable, simple enough so the saddle would stay in place. She checked for any pinching, and then turned back to Faeldor, eyes downcast.
Perhaps it was his superior knowledge, perhaps it was the very work-like mindset she had thrown herself into. Either way, she looked to the ground, and not at the stable master, calmly awaiting the review of her work. Eyes low. It was a personal mantra for any servant in the house of Gondor. She could do no more with the saddle, and she didn't wish to reach for the bridle until he was ready to give it.
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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 Mar 13, 2009 16:17:33 GMT -5
Faeldor watched as Gilwen’s hands flew; his smile never left him. He was impressed at the speed at which she worked, and she did have the knowledge of the skills. This seemed to be a woman who knew her horses. At least for simply strapping the girth. But at the same time it was not a simple task, for if it were not tight enough or off center, or if it pinched the animal, there could be serious injury.
Faeldor stepped forward to inspect the tightness of it, feeling beneath the horse. As he did so, he knew that he would only need do it this one time, for it was perfectly fine and she had shown him that she knew what she was doing. He patted Lumiel’s neck before returning to Gilwen.
He looked at the woman. She had said nothing, her face was down; and where had her joy and liveliness gone?
Her face seemed straight a spear. It was unrequited, for even if she were to have done it wrong, he would not have scolded her. “Come now, you have done it perfectly correct.” He frowned for a moment in thought. “My Lady, Gilwen, you see my face is up here.” And as he said so, he carefully placed his hand beneath her chin and raised her eyes to his. “I would not have you act as my servant. If you are to be my lovely riding partner this eve, let us be as equals to one another.”
Faeldor paused for a moment, then held up the bridle to her, so that he might also watch her in the correct procedure here. He was certain that she would know what to do, after having watched her at the saddling, yet Faeldor was meticulous with the stable horses, and he needed to be sure for the safety of both the horse and Gilwen.
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Gilwen
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There are times when silence has the loudest voice.[Mo0:0]
Posts: 593
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Post by Gilwen on Mar 13, 2009 20:20:07 GMT -5
Though she heard his compliment, her demeanor did not change. It was something about her "work" mindset that seemed to drain her of her gaiety. It was quite apparent to her it was gone: and it became apparent to Faeldor quickly too, as his actions said. She felt his finger hook under her chin and shift her gaze, though not in a forceful way at all. Her brown eyes caught his grey ones, and slowly a smile inched its way across her face. "Then, we shall be equals." Without moving her chin she grasped the bridle and finally turned away.
She approached Lumiel once more and stroked her neck tenderly before moving to work. The bridle was slipped over the horse's head, and effortlessly she eased the bit into the horse's mouth. Instead of staying silent this time, she cooed softly to Lumiel, who seemed eager to be taken out.
She checked the straps, so that none were to tight, and none would hurt the animal in anyway. "I believe, milord, with your approval, Lumiel is ready for a ride." She shot him an extra large smile, content with how she had preformed. She sifted her weight, throwing a hand over to run her fingers through Lumiel's mane once more.
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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 Mar 13, 2009 22:23:58 GMT -5
“So be it. Then you shall take her from here.” Faeldor smiled and without another word stepped out of the stall and quietly into the next. He spent a moment softly running his hand over the younger horse’s back, both to calm the mare, and to make sure her hair was smoothed out and clean before saddling her. He shortly transitioned his firm patting to scratching, and Thissel seemed to lean toward him in her own gladness. Faeldor had not owned this horse very long, and it the progress they were making in trust was pleasing to him.
Faeldor hummed to himself, while in all quickness and grace readying the mare for their outing. His movements were as liquid motion, and once Thissel was saddled and bridled, he checked her straps and skin, and then she was set to go, and even she seemed anxious to leave the confines of the stable.
It had been a hot day, and even when the sun began to fall below the horizon, Gondor held the warmth of daylight in her wind. There was no need for a cloak throughout this time of year, and Faeldor even left his riding gloves among the shelves on the stable wall. No need for fanciful riding tonight. Simply the horses and themselves would do.
Faeldor simply pulled open further the door of the stable, and holding onto Thissel’s bridle, walked her out of the stall. “Milady, the Pelennor waits for us,” he said as he also slid open the door of Lumiel’s stall fully.
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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 Mar 14, 2009 22:06:06 GMT -5
She gripped tightly to the reins of Lumiel, Gilwen finally fully relaxed once more. Faeldor moved into the next stall, and the brunette absently watched him ready the other mare for their impending ride. His hums were comforting, something that seemed to accent beautifully his skillful tacking of Thissel. It seemed that he was ready much quicker than Gilwen had been, though she was expecting as such.
"May it not have to wait any longer, then." She smiled softly. Pelennor. The young woman thought longingly, as the stall door was opened, and she urged her mare into motion. The golden grasses of the field were Gilwen's second favorite place in all of Middle Earth, or so she was sure. While her father disapproved, vocally when she was younger, passively as she aged, of her leaving the city walls, she always found time to sneak away and just lay in the grasses, hum to herself or simply walk and enjoy the air.
It seemed like a dream that she would be leaving the city walls with horses, combining the warm stables with the relaxing fields. A perfect mix of the two things she loved most. Lumiel followed her with very little urging, which was good, because the servant didn't realize until then that she would hardly have the energy to have a battle of wills with such a creature. Today had been long and tiresome.
Her arms ached slightly from the cleaning she had done that afternoon, a punishment for the racket in the kitchens that morning. Still, her eyes were wide awake, and she was far to excited to miss the opportunity to be in the saddle. One thing was for certain: Gilwen would be sleeping well this night.
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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 Mar 15, 2009 13:09:15 GMT -5
Faeldor smiled, turning back to Thissel and beginning to lead the horse carefully out of the stables. Once they left the crowded and enclosed place the horse would relax much more, but here was where he needed to be careful. Gilwen could not have spoken better though, for Faeldor would also be glad leave the city and enter the peace of the Pelennor. He was glad, and could not silence his own humming, for it was a sign of his own contentment. Aside from that, it seemed to settle Thissel.
Outside the stables, the sun’s warmth cast onto his skin. Its glow was turning orange and low in the west, and it was as if a blanket of warmth and humidity was beginning to settle over Minas Tirith. A look to the west was orange skylight, and a look to the east over the Ash Mountains also seemed a faint glow of orange. Faeldor frowned, for that orange was not of sunlight and sunset, but of the power that Gondor was contending against.
He sighed, and looked to the west once more, then behind him to Gilwen. He quickly mounted Thissel, and the horse backstepped, but was then well and glad for the weight on its back, and the direction they were heading. Now they must ride the long length of Minas Tirith, from the winding sixth level, all the way down to the gates below. Each gate was set on opposite sides of the city, and one must travel twice the distance from top to bottom, but it was a good line of defense should the worst come; an attack on the city.
People were not so busy along the streets this time of day; now they were merely traveling from place to place, and the markets had closed down for the evening. Only the most thorough of shopkeepers would stay hours later to make their wares; but the rest were returning home, or sitting on the stoops. Old men sat and smoked pipes, and women attended to their cooking and weaving, while children and dogs ran about the streets on the lower levels, with hoops and sticks, and dolls for playing with.
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