A Flowery Message - [Faeldor]

[Gilwen]

Unintentionally, it had been almost a week since she had seen her beloved Horse Master. Not since the day he had dropped her off at her home and been affronted by her own father. Gilwen was entirely distraught on the matter, or had been for some time. That particular morning, she had been slightly put at ease.

The night previous she had come home late, but her Mama had been awaiting her return rather joyfully. Beregar had stood upon her entry and gone back to his bedchamber, though it was quite fine by Niniel. “You’re home,” her mother observed rather cheerily. Far more cheer than little Gilwen thought was necessary. Yes, she was home. Though, in the few days passing home was not any more pleasing to her than work. What a dreadfully sour thought.

“Good evening, Mama.” She sighed and responded, crossing to gift Niniel a quick kiss upon her cheek. The day before, she had come home from work to find Beleth and Haliel in her little sitting room; quite a shock it had been, certainly. For the weather outside was what prompted her early release; to know they had been out and about had worried her for a good while. Tonight, it was her mother’s cheeriness that took her by surprise.

Niniel had quickly turned and reached down to the little table to pick up a small basket of baked goods. Apparently, Meleth had sent some food in thanks for having her little ones out of the rain. Was that truly what she had wished to show her? Gilwen was not entirely seeing the source of such cheer. “Look inside, dear.” And the basket had been thrust at her.

The woman had certainly done this, mostly for her Niniel’s eye was intently on her and dancing. Still, she had been elated and warmed by what was inside. A single blue forget-me-not. Gilwen’s eyes had brightened, and her face shown in a gentle and tired smile at the sight. She took it with her to her bedchamber, where she placed it beside her bed and proceeded to change for sleep.

She had awoken on this day, then, to a bit of a brighter mood, and much earlier than normal. She had quickly readied herself, so as to not waste time, and then headed out early, Niniel offering her a quiet and pleased smile as she watched her go. It had taken quite a bit of restraint, in truth, for Gilwen to keep herself from running all the way to the sixth tier.

It was before she had to report to work, by about a half hour or so, but it was necessary for what she wished to do. She had, then, worked all morning until it had been around time for lunch. That was when she slipped out for a break and ran all the way to the stables.

Her brown eyes eagerly searched through the people, though she did not see Faeldor. Immediately her heart dropped, though she decided to step inside to see if she could seek him out. Had today been a day he had off? As she moved down the hall looking for him, she heard her name.

“Gilwen?”

Immediately she had turned, and smiled slightly. “Herion,” she murmured quietly in greeting.

“It has been some time since I have seen you,” he said rather cheerily. “I trust that you are doing well?”

“Oh, yes.” She replied. It was far easier to say that she was doing well than explain the horrible turn that had befallen her recently. He, as far as Gilwen knew, knew nothing of the rumors that had circulated around about her, and she wished to keep it that way. “And you?”

“Fine. Quite fine,” the man offered a rather princely smile. He was, altogether, handsome in appearance. Dark hair, dark eyes and a little above average height. He seemed a bit wind-blown, and he was putting up his horse. “The cavalry was released early, so as far as I can see, today is wonderful.” His smile brightened and the man laughed slightly.

Gilwen nodded. “I am sure it is well deserved.”

“You must surely still be near breaking your back in that palace. Am I right?”

Gilwen laughed a bit and dropped her gaze to the ground in an attempt to hide her true feelings on the matter. “There are always things to be done,” she mused quietly. Her brown eyes flashed around the area once more, looking for Faeldor. Was it possible he was in the Stable Master’s quarters? Certainly he was not in the hallway.

[Faeldor]

“Balroch, you big fool,” Faeldor mused as he tended to the young black horse in his stall. Balroch had taken fright at the storm the day previous, and kicked a splintered hole into the door, and Faeldor was now prying a splinter from the horses haunches. The black horse had apparently leaned against his own damage.

As much trouble as the horse was, and having been kicked quite nicely by him two weeks previous, Faeldor was growing fond of the beast. With the exception of the horse’s fine temper, he was a gentle creature, with quite mousey behavior for his size. Perhaps, Faeldor thought now, he was not the best choice for the Calvary. One could never know when they selected horses; and the other nine were shaping up quite nicely and beginning their training.

Though, Faeldor had not the urge to send the horse back down to the lower corrals. He would try him a bit longer, perhaps. Give him some more time. He would come to, Faeldor was certain. And if anything, the Stable Master was looking for another horse anyhow. Lumiel was much too old and sweet to be put to any type of warfare should something come to arise, and Thissel would soon belong to Beleth. The Stable Master needed a strong horse.

How surprised the man was when he stepped out of the stall. He leisurely was wiping his hands on his breeches, as he looked down the hall. Everything was running quite smoothly today, for all the stable hands were here, and the men were coming in from their duty, setting their horses down. No kicks or throws today. No stomped on feet. Everyone was doing quite fine.




And there, not far away he saw her before he heard her voice. It had been a long while since Gilwen had come to visit Faeldor in the stable. She had been here on the day they went out riding, but that had been a week ago now. And the last time she had visited purposely was the day he had been kicked by Balroch. That fool horse. Faeldor smiled to himself.

A moment later though, his smile turned to a slight frown, for as he started to approach her, he noticed that she was speaking with someone. A Calvary member. Particularly, Herion. The man she had mentioned that night on the mountain. He was grinning so wonderfully at her, and just chatting away. Faeldor felt quite jealous, that she had talked to him first, though he knew she was here to see the Stable Master. Herion. While he had no true reason to despise the man, he still felt an unease with him there. Gilwen had known him first. And Gilwen had liked him. No matter if she had been in her youth, there were qualities that she seemed to have adored in the man, else she would not have spoken of him so that night.

Faeldor almost sprinted down the hall. Or at least in his mind he wished to. He continued his leisurely walk, and went straight to his lady, approaching her from behind, and scooping up her hand to kiss it. “Gilwen, I have missed you,” he muttered quite truthfully. Then he glanced to Herion once more before leaning over to kiss the little woman upon the cheek.

Surely, little Gilwen would be embarrassed by such a public display, and the way Faeldor lingered near her, then taking her hand would not help her any. Her cheeks would turn rosy, and she would cast her eyes on the stone floor. But, he was certain she would smile, as he was smiling at her.

Faeldor squeezed her hand, though looked back to Herion to give him appropriate greeting as well. He was kind to all the Calvary after all, and respected what each of them did for Gondor. “Did training fare well today? I see they let you off with an afternoon to spare.”

[Gilwen]

“Aye. Work always has a way of sticking around. Though, I assume you have been keeping out of trouble?” Herion’s voice actually got a bit serious, and his eyes seemed to hold a firm look to the little lady. He was concerned, certainly. And after the manner of their meeting he had every right to be.

Gilwen hurriedly nodded, though offered few words in the way of response. “Yes,” it was quite serious herself, and for a moment the woman grew a bit antsy.

“I know you are older than the last I saw you,” Herion continued rather amused once more. “Though, I must say, you do not seem to have grown much.” It was rather light and said in jest, though Gilwen did not grace it with anything but a nervous smile and laughter.

It was then Herion had seen the Stable Master coming, and had offered a smile in greeting. Gilwen, though, did not understand what was going on until he was right upon them.

“Gilwen, I have missed you,” he had said as he swept her hand up to offer it a kiss, and then stole one from her cheek. Immediately the timid and shy woman turned bright crimson. Were they not supposed to try and still the rumors that were spreading? He was the one that had urged them into caution. Still, she did smile; though such a thing was shadowed by her embarrassment.

Herion seemed a bit surprised by the display himself, though kept up his friendly air as well. Part of him wondered at the pairing. Faeldor seemed much older than little Gilwen. Though, he had never truly known her age and had only guessed by her face and body.

Faeldor did speak to him, though, and Herion immediately and brightly responded with, “Yes. Training has gone well. I do believe they wish to make sure we do not burn out. Certainly training for days on end shall do just that.” A rather handsome smile played across his face.

Gilwen was quite hot in the cheeks, and her eyes now examined dutifully her shoes. Whatever had come over Faeldor? He stood so near! She could feel his warmth, though it was not entirely unwelcome. She had come seeking him for his affections and to show him her own. Still, to do so in the middle of the stables? His stable lads were watching as well! Not to mention the other members of the cavalry. Herion, though, was right there. It was almost as if he desired him to see it.

“How is your family, Faeldor? I have not spoken with you for some time.” Herion continued seamlessly. Apparently, long enough that he had not known a friend of his had been courted by him. Not that it bothered him. Gilwen was a sweet and gentle lady, charming and lovely in her own right. And from what he had seen, Faeldor was quite the gentleman. The two made an unusual, but fitted, pair. He wondered aside if Gilwen had been wed in the time he had not seen her, though when he flashed a look to her hand she wore no ring. It was surprising she was still unmarried! Though, it seemed she had found happiness.

Gilwen wanted to speak to her Horse Master on how delighted she was to see him as well, though was so stilled by his hand in hers she could do nothing. Had he forgotten her father’s words? What if word got back to him? Oh, she liked her Faeldor’s hands right where they were, and did not wish to see them gone from him. Though, she liked the feeling of his finger’s between hers, too so did not even attempt to break them apart.

[Faeldor]

“A Calvary failure by burn out would be rather disastrous. It is good to offer a break, and I hope you will enjoy your afternoon, and keep it well spent,” Faeldor agreed, though he was mildly distracted by the woman so near him. He crossed his free arm behind his back so as to avoid wrapping it around Gilwen as he wished to. Oh how difficult this was going to be!

“How is your family, Faeldor? I have not spoken with you for some time.”

“My family is doing well, Herion. My sisters are all growing up so quickly, and Mother is still working in the bakery, and loving it.” Faeldor answered nonchalantly. Most of his family was doing well, it was true. Though, Miriel had been quite moody and strange lately, it was hardly a thing to speak of with an acquaintance. “You might stop by and visit her sometime, she’ll be sure to give you something delicious. And she loves to feed the Calvary.”

Faeldor wished aside that he could find an easy way to end this conversation with Herion. He wished to have Gilwen to himself right now. She was smiling, he knew it, beneath her agitated blush, she was happy. Oh, how long did he have with her before she needed to return to work? He needed to speak to her, of the things her father had said, and his love for her, and just… well, they didn’t need to speak the whole time. She enjoyed the silence and presence of him as well, he knew.

“Are you on break?” he asked, looking back to her. Perhaps Herion would understand the suggestion and dismiss himself. Faeldor did not think that Gilwen received breaks anymore. Or that she would ever have chance to stop and see him during the day. He had been pining for a way to see her again, but was afraid for his hands should he venture to her home, and afraid for more rumors, should he search her out within the palace walls.

[Gilwen]

Herion had listened quietly, though brightly, as Faeldor had spoken to him and answered his questions. "I just may, then. Though, perhaps at a later date. I do wish to do some reading, and I am quite sure my own mother needs something picked up from the market." Pastries were always lovely. Especially as a young man who was constantly using his body and energy. He watched curiously as Faeldor seemed to grow possessive of little Gilwen, though dismissed it quickly and flashed another smile.

Gilwen herself found it curious that Faeldor was working so hard not embrace her. He had, after all, been the one that had come up and taken her hand and kissed her cheek. It was no mystery to the woman that he had a hard time controlling himself under such circumstances. Nonetheless the woman was rather quiet and did nothing but stare sheepishly to the stone floor. For a moment she felt a bit upset that Herion had found her. It was not that seeing an old friend was not welcome, or pleasing. In truth, she rather liked to know he was doing well. Rather, she had snuck away from her duties to see her Faeldor and speak to him. She did not know how long she could afford to stand here with him, though knew that allowing Herion and Faeldor to speak was not making good use of it. Still, she was too shy and timid to speak up in such a situation.

So it was well that Faeldor had done such a thing for her. He had turned his grey eyes to her and asked, “Are you on break?” She had raised her eyes to him only for a moment, to glimpse their clarity and loveliness, before dropping them back to the floor and answering, somewhat evasively. "Of sorts." She was not truly allowed to take a break. Though, she had come in extra early and worked hard to bargain for one. Luckily the head of the serving women had been sympathetic and allotted her time off for a while.

"Well, then, Gilwen. Do enjoy your break," Herion had chimed, gifting her another smile. "It was a pleasure seeing you again. I do hope we shall again soon. Lord Faeldor," he nodded in respect to the Stable Master before checking the manger door, and heading out of the stable and toward the door to start his own break. And it was much needed!

"As do I." Gilwen had responded rather quietly, though politely, before the man had gone away. It was as if her heart beat in anticipation, judging the steps Herion had taken away so that she could be with her Faeldor and have a word with him. Once she was certain that he was far enough away, and that the stable lads had gone off a ways as well, she spoke.

"Fael, I am sorry I have not come to see you sooner." She murmured. It was impossible to find the time, and she had been unnerved by her own father's threats. She did love this man, after all, and did not wish to see him hacked to pieces. A small smile spread across her lips as she dropped her gaze once more. "But I did get your flower...and I knew I had to try to see you today."

She also wanted to apologize and beg him to let her pay back some of his lost wages. But that would have to wait until they could talk a bit more privately. Still, she imagined that moment was too far away. Faeldor had a habit of bringing her to his quarters when she visited, though this time she would not allow him to shut the door.

[Faeldor]

How relieved the Stable Master was when Herion said his farewell. He returned the nod in farewell, and watched as Herion left, then turned his full attention back to Gilwen, who seemed to have been waiting for the others to diminish as well before speaking.

"Fael, I am sorry I have not come to see you sooner… But I did get your flower...and I knew I had to try to see you today." “You warrant the same apology from me,” Faeldor said, smiling slightly. It was no matter for both of them though. Faeldor was quite content that Gilwen knew of his love for her now, and would not worry if some days passed without them seeing each other. Although, with the passing of days, it was making it all the more difficult for Faeldor to think sensibly in her presence now.

“I am just not certain where to see you, for the palace is quite off limits, and if I came to your home I would surely lose my hands,” he jested slightly, trying to make humor of the situation. “And I would not be able to hold down this job without hands, that is certain. Nor would I be able to touch you.” He muttered the last portion quietly, as he squeezed her hand once more, then let his thumb brush along fingers, “Although that was the point of taking my hands in the first place, I presume.”

He sighed slightly, knowing they had no place private to talk, save his quarters, and began to lead the lady the opposite way down the hall, restraining himself quite well from furthering his touches. After all, he was more concerned about Gilwen’s state of being than anything else, though he did desire her closeness. Oh, it had been so long since he had kissed her! Since the night on the mountain.

Faeldor held his breath as he entered the stone room at the end of the hall. It looked ever the same as usual, with the tidy cot and desk, and the riding gear hanging upon the wall. He wondered if Gilwen had news to give him, or if she had just wished to see him. His arms were aching to hold her, yet after they had entered the room, he just stood for some moments holding her hands quietly, and taking in the chance that he had to be in her presence.

[Gilwen]

Faeldor apologized for his own absence, though Gilwen dismissed it. She was not holding him accountable. It was her own father that had threatened him and taken away her home for them to meet. Something he playfully reminded her of. “Although that was the point of taking my hands in the first place, I presume.”

Gilwen certainly did not find such a thing funny, though at the thought of his touches she blushed wildly. “Fael, I do believe that my Papa was quite serious.” She tried to still his attempts at making light of such a thing. She would never want him to underestimate her father, after all. He was not a man that should be taken lightly. In fact, she was rather certain she had seen him take his sword and sharpen it a few nights ago.

Though, she could not seem to keep herself from adding, “And I rather like your hands right where they are.” They had begun to move off down the hallway, toward the quarters, as Gilwen had rightly guessed.

They entered, though Gilwen kept an eye to make sure he did not attempt to shut the door. He didn’t, so she turned her eyes back to him. “I wish to apologize for my Papa. He…” she trailed off and sighed. “I should have told you how he felt. I did not wish to hurt you by it, though.” Her voice was soft, almost meek. She was not a vocal person, after all. But such actions required an explanation.

“What he did to you was terrible. My Mama agrees, and also sends her apology.” She pursed her lips into a straight line, and looked down to her sleeve. She reached inside to produce a coin purse. It was not nearly as full as the one Faeldor had presented her, it would take her much longer to find that sum, but she held it out to him anyway. “It is not nearly enough to make up for what you lost. I—please take it.” She finally fell silent, staring at her extended hand, holding the other firmly in his. “It is the least that I can do.”

She wondered how much of the way he had been treated had been recounted to his family. Her brown eyes seemed a bit hurt at such a thing, for her thoughts turned to his family. The last she knew, Meleth had detested her as well. Not to mention she had an inkling that his grandparents had thought her wayward and lowly after the rumors had reached them as well. Beregar was explosive under the proper circumstances; Faeldor had certainly come to know that. But was that the same hatred Meleth held for her? Was the woman merely just not as vocal or open about it?

Such thoughts broke her heart, and Gilwen almost sighed sadly. Would Meleth, if she was more vocal on her emotions, threaten to take her hands with one of her cooking knives? Whatever would her Papa actually do if he caught Faeldor with her? Her little mind was quite filled with such thoughts, as silence overtook her and she stood extending the purse to the Stable Master. It right near made her head spin, though she did well not to show it.

After apologies had been offered, and her debt partially repaid, Gilwen desired to embrace her beloved and kiss his cheek. She wanted him to know she still loved him, and for all of her father’s trying, he would not keep her away. She just did not know how much time she had left today to prove such things to him.

[Faeldor]

The woman apologized for her father’s words. Though Faeldor had not forgotten them, he had held Gilwen in no way accountable for what the man had said. “You have not hurt me in any way, dearheart,” the man said gently. “I do not hold it against you… or your mother…” he said slowly, unwilling to say anything about forgiving Beregar, though he would be gentle on the matter with Gilwen. He was her father whom she loved after all. He would have to suck in his manly anger, and let it be for the time.

Then, she offered the coin purse back to him, with some of the wages she had obviously spent the past week earning. That was certainly not to the man’s pleasure, to think she would offer him her money. It upset him slightly.

“No, Gilwen, I will not take this from you,” Faeldor said, lightly and slowly pushing Gilwen’s hand down. He would not accept a repayment from her. “I will hold no debt between us. Please keep it for your own needs, dearest. My family is well enough off right now. There is no worry for lack of money.” The Stable Master did his best to not sound proud or ungrateful. But there was no way in Arda that he would take any coins from Gilwen. He already knew she had to provide for her family on such little wages that she made, and he would not have her work more to earn extra for him.

Faeldor took a moment to release Gilwen’s hand, and then moved to shut the door. If he had known that Gilwen truly had wished it open, he would have left it so. But she would not be able to stay long, and he needed to be alone with her; if only for a few minutes. He returned to her, simply looking at her for some moments in silence. Then he took both of her hands, and looked at her a bit longer, studying her face.

Truly, he thought, she was quite perfect. The faint trace of bruising that had been left when he last saw her had now disappeared, and though she seemed to always look weary, she did look somewhat healthier this meeting. Perhaps it was her eyes, and the way she was looking at him. He wanted to kiss her, but instead he just slipped his hands about her waist and waited for her permission. If she came closer to him, well. Then it would be fine. Oh, it seemed that he was always waiting.

[Gilwen]

“No, Gilwen, I will not take this from you.”

Immediately, Gilwen frowned. No, he did not need it. But she felt entirely horrified that a full day of his wages had been cast into the streets. She was, after all, used to not having food if a days worth of payment had been spent elsewhere. It was hard for her to understand the thought of having plenty like Faeldor did. She would have been far more insistent, but she knew that her time for a break was short indeed. She did not wish to waste it by speaking to Faeldor in words when she could be held by him and let him now she loved him.

So, she slipped it back into her sleeve, though did not forget it. She would address it once more later. Faeldor moved away from her, and closed the doorway to the quarters, and Gilwen wished to sigh. Most of her felt that leaving it open would be the best way to keep their name clear; though the other part, the one that was longing for his kisses and a sweet embrace by him, was pleased that such privacy had been given. The latter part of her outweighed the rest, and as he returned to her, she smiled slightly.

He swept of both of her hands, and seemed to study her face. She, though, was studying his in return. It was a face that she had seen often in her dreams, for when she closed her eyes it was Faeldor who she thought of. She would, of course, never say such a thing aloud and to his face. She didn’t really know why she was so embarrassed by such a thing, but she was. Gilwen, oftentimes, didn’t need a proper explanation or excuse to be embarrassed. It seemed it was her natural state.

He slowly shifted his hold upon her, and the woman awaited a kiss, or full embrace. It seemed he had stilled himself, and Gilwen was a bit curious. They stood like that for a few moments before she realized he was waiting on her. For an impatient man, Faeldor seemed to be extra respectful of her space today. She wondered aside if it was because he feared discovery by her father, and would be able to rightfully say that it was she who had kissed him.

The thought was released though as the woman rose to her toes, moving her hands to lie upon his chest, carefully avoiding his bruise, and she kissed his cheek. Still, she found herself unsatisfied, and caught his lips for one as well. She pulled away slowly, sliding herself back to her normal place and stepping closer to him, with a contented sigh.

If only such moments could last forever, she found herself thinking.

[Faeldor]

Faeldor’s senses, it seemed, were not entirely with him. It was almost as if the man was dreaming himself, for he had been ever so calm since Gilwen had been her. Perhaps, it was because he knew she would have to leave so shortly. There should be nothing but peace while she was here. He could not bring himself to speak any more of her father, or of their plight while she stood so near him. If she must leave shortly, he would let her leave feeling warm and loved.

They stood quietly together for some moments, and the little woman surprised him by leaning up to kiss him; first on the cheeks, then a brush to the lips. Then she moved to stand so near him, that the man could not help but smile. She wished to be near him. He had been encouraged enough now, and his arms wrapped completely around the woman, holding her against his chest, ever so gently, yet firm. It was a complete necessity, to feel his lady’s heart beat against his. He could not stop himself.

After a minute of such, Faeldor moved Gilwen within his arms, that he might look upon her face again. “My Starlight…” he muttered gently, saying nothing else. He had missed all of her so. Then, he restrained himself no longer, and he bent to kiss his lady upon the lips. Softly at first, yet after a moment, his hand had risen to cup the back of the woman’s head, His fingers wound their way about the dark tresses, and Faeldor gripped his lady close as he kissed her deeply.

Yes, asleep… he must be asleep. How else would Gilwen have come to him in the middle of the day? If she had managed to take a break from work, he would certainly make it a good one, and send her back smiling. His eyes were closed as he slowly ended a long kiss, but instead of taking his lips from her skin they only sought her more. He remembered, certainly, what she had told him upon the mountain, and the man began to pay great favor to her neck, though he was careful not to leave a mark as he did so.

No thoughts of Beregar’s wrath crossed this man at the time. If Beregar had known, the Stable Master certainly would have lost his hands, for they were indeed touching the lady. First resting upon her back, and in her hair, then to her hips, and once more encircling her waist. Faeldor was quite too caught up in his lady to think on the matter. He was quite content, as he moved back to her rosy lips.

[Gilwen]

“My Starlight…”

His arms had completely come around her, and once more Gilwen was held closely and safely within his strength. A strength that was not only physical, but emotional as well. Certainly other couples having met the same resistance would have left one another. Especially when at least one of them was at risk for losing their appendages.

The woman closed her eyes for a moment, and let the smell of the stables, of his heavy work, and of him fill her. She had held her dress at night almost every day that week, and his scent was beginning to leave it completely. It felt as if she could go to sleep right there, though Gilwen knew well enough not to show it. Faeldor would either worry, or stop his physical attentions to let her rest. But that wasn’t what she wanted.

He shifted her after a while to kiss her. Then, once more with a stronger passion. Gilwen felt his hand bury itself in her hair, and she, likewise, gripped at his tunic. Just about when she was breathless, he turned his attentions to her neck, and the woman almost sighed in delight. She kept everything bridled, though, for surely there were people just outside. She would not wish to draw their attentions with anything that sounded compromising. And then, he returned to her lips.

While Faeldor’s thoughts had turned far from her father, Gilwen fleetingly mused that Faeldor would certainly lose his hands for the way he was touching her. Mostly, though, she was pleased that he still desired to do so, even under such threats. When that kiss finally ended the little woman was the possessor of a wild heart, two rosy cheeks and one gentle smile.

As much as she desired to beg him to return to his kisses, she knew that she must control herself. For to leave his quarters looking as she was would be quite negative for them both. Aside from this, she loved and relished the sound of his voice, so she did not wish to deprive herself of that either. So, instead of kissing him once more, she locked her arms about his waist, to avoid his bruise, and decided to speak to him. “I feel as if I have seen your sisters more often then I have seen you, this past week.” It was quiet, understanding and light. Narbeleth and Haliel had come to her house to escape a dreadful storm, and Narbeleth had returned the day previous with the delivered basket. Though, all that had done was spur Gilwen to see the stables this day. He had told Herion that all had been well at home, but she wished to inquire herself, though for a different matter. “Your family is doing well, you said?” It was equally as soft as the other statement, though not so light and cheery. Indeed, Gilwen wished to know how his mother and grandparents thought of her, but was too ashamed to ask it. She hoped that all were in fine health, and that they did not hate her for either her father’s rudeness to their beloved son, or the foul rumor.

[Faeldor]

“Well I suppose you have seen my sisters quite often,” Faeldor mused lovingly. He had stilled his kissing, but his hand still roved gingerly through the lady’s hair. “I was quite surprised to find that Beleth had dared venture to your home, after I had talked with her even about, well, what your father had said to me. Do not fret though, she is the only I have spoken to of it. I would not wish dishonor upon his name, for I know he is not the raging drunkard that he seemed. Beleth quite informed me that he is a gentle man, and that I have simply made a poor impression on him. She is quite certain that your mother has the run of things though, and eventually I will be allowed to touch you.” Faeldor sighed slightly, his hands sliding down the back of Gilwen’s neck.

“My family is quite well, in truth,” he replied. “The girls are all doing wonderfully, and Faelon is in as much mischief as ever. I caught him in the yard yesterday trying to spear a dear mourning dove. He had sharpened a stick to a point and was throwing it, and it would not have been much trouble if Haliel had not been so nearby. I think someday he shall either make a fine huntsman, or a member of the Calvary.” Faeldor laughed lightly, thinking on the matter.

“Though, Miriel has been ill lately; I have not heard much from her by way of… well, what we are used to. Perhaps she has realized her mistake and is upset on herself. I have not talked to her of it though. I will give her time.” He said this slowly, so as to not let the words of his sister ruin their moment. He did not think actually that anything could ruin their moment.

“And Grandfather; I believe his health is improving; he has been out visiting and moving about more. He was sitting in the sun telling the neighboring children a ballad yesterday. I hope I should be like him when I am old,” he mused, then continued, “And he keeps asking after you, he wishes to see you again. His vision is failing, and he says he needs a bright smile to help him open his eyes. He does adore you.

“Mother is well. She is very glad that your parents allowed my sisters to step in during the storm. I… well, I have not told her of your father’s anger toward our family. I do not know if she has spoken to Niniel of it at all, but she has made no mention.” The man paused for a moment, not knowing what else he should say. “She has spoken to me of you, and though she is not disappointed, for it seems she urges me to stay with you… and she does not believe the rumors that have passed, but she is simply upset that they are there, and that my name has been among them. She knows you are a virtuous woman, and that I have done you, nor any, dishonor, but it simply hurts her to hear it spoken. She knows Miriel and Durion have encouraged the spread of all this trouble, and is heartbroken over it… but… well, there is nothing we could do to still any talk of us, save stay apart from each other, and for me, that is not a viable option.” As if to seal his words, Faeldor leaned to kiss Gilwen once more, slowly. He did adore her.

“Mother simply wishes for me to wed you and end all this nonsense,” he shrugged slightly. He would be glad to marry little Gilwen any day, though, there was the truth that he needed her father’s permission. Meleth did not know how difficult that would be to come by. Faeldor kissed Gilwen again, not giving her a chance to dwell long on the issue. Her heart rate had slowed down against him, and he enjoyed it’s quickened pace, so he led it be so.

When he had finished, and given a moment of silence to catch his breath, he then asked, “How… is your family?” He increased his warm grip on Gilwen, that she might not flit away from the question, after she had heard all of his own thoughts on the matter.

[Gilwen]

Gilwen’s ears were soon graced with the latest that was going on with his dear family, and Gilwen listened to it fondly. Half because his voice was so comforting, partly because she had grown to love his family as her own. Probably because she wished for them to be. Either way, she leaned her head against his chest and listened, letting his hand play with her dark locks.

He spoke on Faelon, and Gilwen frowned slightly at the news she heard. It was good to hear he was well and healthy. Truly, it did not seem as if such a show of manliness was uncommon for a little boy, especially one that was from the same family as her Faeldor, but her heart seemed to feel a twinge at the idea of the little boy growing up being either a huntsman or a member of the cavalry. For the former required lovely animals to be killed, the latter was just far too dangerous. Especially with the darkening of the days. Part of her, undoubtedly the same part that wished to have her own family someday, wanted to keep the boy safe from harm. Such mothering urges took Gilwen a bit off guard, and she tightened her grip upon her beloved for a moment. Oh, how she wished none would come to harm in whatever days were coming. Especially Faeldor and his family. They had suffered enough.

Miriel also made the girl a bit sympathetic. It was never fun to fall ill. Still, Faeldor brightened her spirits by mentioning that it was perhaps in part caused by her acceptance of the two of them. Oh! Joyous news!

The mentioning of Melanir made the woman smile, and even more so when she heard Faeldor’s desire to be like him when he was aged and well in years. Gilwen mused that she rather liked the sound of such a thing, and could very well see him sitting in the company of many children and sharing stories, singing them songs and playing his instruments. It would, surely, bring him great cheer! Gilwen though faltered a moment in the thought that it was possible that she would not make it to see such days; their bloodlines were different.

She shoved the thought from her mind before her eyes could well with tears and sadness. There was no place for such things there at this time. “I shall need to find time to see him, then.” She forced the words from her mouth as cheery as she could bring them to be and smiled up at the man adoringly. Preparations for the Midsummer’s Ball would begin soon enough. She would, undoubtedly, get a few says off so she would not be in the presence of the Steward. Perhaps on such a day she could venture to the house for a visit; she had promised Beleth she would, after all.

Then the talk went to his mother. Dear Meleth! Gilwen was not quite sure that the words Faeldor spoke were the truth. Indeed, she imagined she was much more distraught or upset than Faeldor let on. Nonetheless, the woman was contented to hear such things as he said to her there, for they eased her heart and soul. She blushed and smiled as he spoke of not having any option to still the talk and rumors and kissed her once again, her little heart fluttering once more.

“Mother simply wishes for me to wed you and end all this nonsense.”

That would be to her own pleasure, too. Though, not truly for the quelling of the rumors. Mostly so she could look forward to returning from work daily and finding him in her own home. So that she could begin her life as a gentle, loving wife. Something she was quite interested in becoming; though, only if she were to be able to call the man before her her husband. Unfortunately, that would mean that Faeldor would want to ask Beregar for her hand.

And the chance of him getting permission was slim.

Faeldor quickly changed the subject, kissing her once more until her heart was quite rampant once again. He also tightened his hold upon her in an attempt to still any evading Gilwen was sure to try to his next question. “How… is your family?”

Gilwen raised her eyes to him and thought on it a moment. Surely Beleth and Haliel had explained to him of what had transpired when they had visited. “My family is well,” she replied rather vaguely. It was also a bit of an embellishment. The family was struggling financially, and Gilwen’s wages did not seem to be enough to support them anymore. Not with the standard in housing they held. It did appear that they were going to have to move down to a smaller home upon the first tier, though she did not wish to speak to Faeldor on that quite yet. He would simply worry and be angry; and she did not wish for him to do or be either. She forced a smile instead and replied, “Mama would be pleased to know she was seen as the head of the house. She has done well in keeping my Papa’s temper at bay. Though, I do believe she is purposefully making it difficult for him to not be angered.” She laughed slightly at the thought of her coming home to Haliel’s question on when she and Faeldor were going to have a baby, and when she was going to be an aunt. The color that filled her cheeks then, pooled in her cheeks once again. “She has been sitting affront the fire sewing ceaselessly.” She quickly moved on, wishing to avoid talk of children for the blush it would bring her, and spoke once more.

“Papa…” her face got serious and she sighed. “He needs time, Fael.” She didn’t know how else to put it. “He has spoken of Haliel and Beleth around the house quite nicely…someday your name shall be mentioned, too.” In a motherly, and comforting manner, she straightened his shirts. “I know it.” She added in a whisper. Well, she hoped desperately. Her Niniel quite enjoyed Faeldor, and sooner or later, Beregar would come around, too. Because he loved his wife more than anything else. Someday, they would all see eye to eye on this and she and Faeldor would be allowed to be wed. Though, she knew her Stable Master was an impatient man when it came to such things. And Gilwen felt in her heart that she was growing impatient, as well. And she was normally quite fine in waiting. Inwardly she sighed. She could wait for Faeldor. He was more than worth it.

[Faeldor]

“He needs time, Fael.” Faeldor’s eyes narrowed slightly at her statement. “He needs more than time… time and common sense. To believe rumors over his daughter’s word. Tell me, Gilwen, have you ever been untruthful to him before, for I can’t believe that you have. You’ve stood a faithful and virtuous daughter for five and twenty years, and he is being entirely… antagonistic.”

It took very little to upset Faeldor at this time, as for the last minutes now his thoughts had been upon Beregar and the frustration caused by the man. He tried to calm himself though. He should not put himself into a fit right now. Now was not the time for such. He pressed his lips against Gilwen’s dark hair to still his angry words, and settled his mind.

“What should I do?” Faeldor finally asked her, as if Gilwen perhaps had thought of the answer and he had missed it. “I cannot go another week without seeing you. It weighs too heavily on my heart, and I must know that you are well. And you must know that I love you…” The man’s tone had settled quite well at a low whisper.

He knew that Gilwen would need to take her leave shortly. It was likely that she would have to work late for taking this break during the day to come and see him. Was it not worth it though? He would work later if it meant he might go to her. Though, Faeldor had avoided searching for her in the palace. Even the days he did go to visit his Mother, he was straight to and from the kitchens. No stopping in the servant’s closet, or looking in the halls.

Perhaps though… it gave him a slight idea. She must not start work much earlier than he. “Might I rise early in the mornings? And meet you on your way to the palace?” he asked her.

[Gilwen]

“He needs more than time… time and common sense.”

Gilwen frowned. “Faeldor,” she scolded lightly. She could understand his frustration, it was her own to share as well. But she would never allow someone to think poorly of her dear Papa. “He has no foundation for his doubts.” She admitted. She had never truly lied to her parents. She had been, at times, a bit evasive; but she had been young. Still, she did not wish him to linger on such a thing, for it would surely set him into a foul mood.

“What should I do?”

That had caused the gentle woman to smile up at him. He spoke of not wanting another week to pass without seeing her, and she certainly would not want such a thing either. Still, the answer she gave was not quite something she figured he wished to hear. “There is nothing you can do, Fael.” She brought a hand to lay against his cheek, though after a moment fingered one of his dark curls between her fingers. “I am his only daughter. Part of him simply dislikes you because he thinks you are stealing me.” Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper. Finally she released his curl and let her hand fall to his arm. “He will see that you are wonderful. Mama has,” she added aside. “When he does, he will welcome you like a son.”

Oh, if only Gilwen could be certain of such things! Still, her brown eyes were quite steady, and filled with a softness that was hard to ignore. Unease was not at all visible in her eyes, though she did lift up a quick prayer to the Valar for their aide in such a situation.

“Might I rise early in the mornings? And meet you on your way to the palace?”

Gilwen’s eyes glinted pleasantly. “I suppose if we met upon the fourth tier no harm could come by it.” The third tier was completely off limits. Their neighbors, Gilwen feared, had been drafted into vigilance by her father’s asking and prodding. For them to be seen together there would do neither of them any good.

Inwardly she sighed. She did not wish to go, but certainly her duties could not wait any longer. She forced a smile, and gripped at him lovingly for a moment before she found words. “I’m sorry, but I must go.” It had been so good to simply see him! Gilwen only wished they had longer together. She raised to her toes once more, long enough to kiss his cheek once more and nuzzle her nose against his.

She thought once more on her father, and such previous conversation that they had held. “I love you, Fael. Papa will come to accept it, for he shall not be able to change it.”