Post by Gilwen on Mar 22, 2010 17:34:44 GMT -5
My brother,
I do hope this letter finds you well. I know we have not written much in the past, and I regret to say that I am writing now because my family is in need. I am a proud man, Beregar. I would not seek help unless it was dire, as I know you would not either. Let this fact give urgency to my letter.
The orcs are becoming rampant upon the field, and it is no place for me to keep my family any longer. I have decided to move to the city once more, to the place we were born and raised. The house, though, will not be vacant and ready for my family and I until December.
Brother, I need to get my family off the plains much sooner than this. Neighbors have already had their crops and animals burned. It will not take long for it to be our very houses. I ask for help; let my family stay with yours for a time. We shall help about the house, and pay you rightly for your hospitality.
Upon your word, we will come within a fortnight. It has been too long since I have seen you, your lovely wife or little Gilwen.
Faeron
--
Beregar stared down at the parchment and let his eyes fly over it once more. The letter had come to him this morning; it was now the afternoon, and Beregar had not so much as moved to make a reply. He was simply sitting in silence on their couch, rereading the eloquent letter over and over again.
Faeron had always been more studious than he; he took a fancy to books that was far greater than Beregar’s, and had clearly kept up with studies as well as ran his farm. It had been well on twenty years since either brother had seen the other, and this was the first letter passed between them in nigh on fifteen.
“Beregar,” Niniel said concernedly as she put a hand upon his shoulder and looked down at him with soft brown eyes. “What is it?” She had refrained from asking about the letter until now; her husband was the better-educated one out of both of them, and while she could read, she left such business to her husband for the most part.
“It’s Faeron.”
The reply made Niniel gasp and she at down next to her husband quickly. “Is everything well with him? Has something happened?”
“…He wants to stay with us until December. His new house in the city will be ready for them by then.” Beregar’s words were slow, and somewhat emotionless.
Niniel smiled. “Well then, of course we open our home to them, Beregar. It is your brother, and it has been some time since you have seen or heard from him. I should think it would do everyone a lot of good to have some new company around,” her gentle prattling seemed contented or excited, but the look Beregar gave her was nothing of the sort.
“Niniel, our house is on the first tier.” The words were biting sharp. “Even if I wished to let them see our family in such a disgrace down here, they have no room to lay their head down.”
Niniel frowned. “We could all think of something, Beregar. What else would you have them do?”
He did not even bother with answering the question and instead continued to speak. “And if they come here, and do find a place to sleep in our small house, they will surely learn of Gilwen, and our family’s shame. Niniel, Merilwen has always criticized us as parents, and I am sure she will jump at the chance to do so now. I have never been able to stand the woman,” Beregar was growling in his throat.
“Beregar, please. That is your brother’s wife. Speak not so ill of her,” though, inwardly Niniel did not adore the woman herself. She had been sweet enough when Faeron and she had been courting. They had been married two years after Beregar and herself. However, as soon as they had wed, something had changed within the woman. She was never sweet and gentle anymore. “We need to help them. We may need to ask for their own help someday, and we should wish them to be willing to aide us.”
Beregar was silent for a long while, and Niniel kissed his cheek slowly. “This could go so poorly,” the man grumbled.
Niniel nuzzled her nose against his cheek and pressed her forehead against his hair. “They would not speak ill of our hospitality under our roof, dear. And Merilwen…well, I know that you are a wonderful husband, and a grand father. You need not listen to what she has said of us.”
The choice of words “grand” and “father” caused Beregar to twitch slightly. Though, his wife’s touches were softer now than they had been for the past few months. He wished to say they could not have been so great if Gilwen had turned out the way she had, but he was far too comforted by his wife’s closeness, and he knew the moment he spoke on it, his lovely Niniel would pull away, and there would once again be a distance between them.
“…They said they shall be here within a fortnight of receiving my letter.”
Niniel let delicate fingers brush through Beregar’s hair as she listened, a warmth rising within her for the happiness she felt. It had been a long while since she and Beregar had been so comfortable together. Not since the rumors had started.
“We should plan on them arriving in three weeks,” Beregar finished with a sigh, ultimately deciding to reply that they could come. Niniel smiled and kissed his temple.
“We will be ready,” she whispered. “Thank you,” she added.
“For what?” Beregar asked, turning to grab Niniel’s hand in his own, and catching her eyes with his.
Niniel smiled, “For still being the man I fell in love with.”
There was a heavy silence that fell between them as they sat together upon the couch, though neither was upset. Instead, it was as if they were lost in each other’s eyes, and Beregar recalled all the times that they were courting and he had declared to her, “If you do take my hand, I promise that I shall never tire of you. Nothing shall ever captivate me as you do.” And it was still true. The same wonder at her beauty that he had held all those years ago he felt then.
Finally he broke the silence with a rather boyish grin, raising his finger to trace along Niniel’s cheek. “Gilwen shall not be home until late,” he offered.
Niniel laughed a little, though smiled. “No, she will not.” Another short silence.
“And if my brother is to come stay with us,” Beregar continued in a rather pleasant manner. “We shall not have much time alone.”
“No, we shall not.” Niniel agreed with sparkling eyes. Another short silence passed.
“Come, love. Let us go make sure we enjoy it together now.” The light in Beregar’s eyes was unmistakable; it was love and desire. In his disapproval of Gilwen’s Faeldor, Beregar well overlooked the fact that he held the same lover’s spirit that Beregar did.
“And what of the letter?” She asked playfully. “Should you not reply?” She took his hand and they stood, Beregar wrapping his arms fully about her and kissing her lips once with a smile.
“I will reply,” he murmured softly. “But, I think it can wait.” Niniel agreed.
I do hope this letter finds you well. I know we have not written much in the past, and I regret to say that I am writing now because my family is in need. I am a proud man, Beregar. I would not seek help unless it was dire, as I know you would not either. Let this fact give urgency to my letter.
The orcs are becoming rampant upon the field, and it is no place for me to keep my family any longer. I have decided to move to the city once more, to the place we were born and raised. The house, though, will not be vacant and ready for my family and I until December.
Brother, I need to get my family off the plains much sooner than this. Neighbors have already had their crops and animals burned. It will not take long for it to be our very houses. I ask for help; let my family stay with yours for a time. We shall help about the house, and pay you rightly for your hospitality.
Upon your word, we will come within a fortnight. It has been too long since I have seen you, your lovely wife or little Gilwen.
Faeron
--
Beregar stared down at the parchment and let his eyes fly over it once more. The letter had come to him this morning; it was now the afternoon, and Beregar had not so much as moved to make a reply. He was simply sitting in silence on their couch, rereading the eloquent letter over and over again.
Faeron had always been more studious than he; he took a fancy to books that was far greater than Beregar’s, and had clearly kept up with studies as well as ran his farm. It had been well on twenty years since either brother had seen the other, and this was the first letter passed between them in nigh on fifteen.
“Beregar,” Niniel said concernedly as she put a hand upon his shoulder and looked down at him with soft brown eyes. “What is it?” She had refrained from asking about the letter until now; her husband was the better-educated one out of both of them, and while she could read, she left such business to her husband for the most part.
“It’s Faeron.”
The reply made Niniel gasp and she at down next to her husband quickly. “Is everything well with him? Has something happened?”
“…He wants to stay with us until December. His new house in the city will be ready for them by then.” Beregar’s words were slow, and somewhat emotionless.
Niniel smiled. “Well then, of course we open our home to them, Beregar. It is your brother, and it has been some time since you have seen or heard from him. I should think it would do everyone a lot of good to have some new company around,” her gentle prattling seemed contented or excited, but the look Beregar gave her was nothing of the sort.
“Niniel, our house is on the first tier.” The words were biting sharp. “Even if I wished to let them see our family in such a disgrace down here, they have no room to lay their head down.”
Niniel frowned. “We could all think of something, Beregar. What else would you have them do?”
He did not even bother with answering the question and instead continued to speak. “And if they come here, and do find a place to sleep in our small house, they will surely learn of Gilwen, and our family’s shame. Niniel, Merilwen has always criticized us as parents, and I am sure she will jump at the chance to do so now. I have never been able to stand the woman,” Beregar was growling in his throat.
“Beregar, please. That is your brother’s wife. Speak not so ill of her,” though, inwardly Niniel did not adore the woman herself. She had been sweet enough when Faeron and she had been courting. They had been married two years after Beregar and herself. However, as soon as they had wed, something had changed within the woman. She was never sweet and gentle anymore. “We need to help them. We may need to ask for their own help someday, and we should wish them to be willing to aide us.”
Beregar was silent for a long while, and Niniel kissed his cheek slowly. “This could go so poorly,” the man grumbled.
Niniel nuzzled her nose against his cheek and pressed her forehead against his hair. “They would not speak ill of our hospitality under our roof, dear. And Merilwen…well, I know that you are a wonderful husband, and a grand father. You need not listen to what she has said of us.”
The choice of words “grand” and “father” caused Beregar to twitch slightly. Though, his wife’s touches were softer now than they had been for the past few months. He wished to say they could not have been so great if Gilwen had turned out the way she had, but he was far too comforted by his wife’s closeness, and he knew the moment he spoke on it, his lovely Niniel would pull away, and there would once again be a distance between them.
“…They said they shall be here within a fortnight of receiving my letter.”
Niniel let delicate fingers brush through Beregar’s hair as she listened, a warmth rising within her for the happiness she felt. It had been a long while since she and Beregar had been so comfortable together. Not since the rumors had started.
“We should plan on them arriving in three weeks,” Beregar finished with a sigh, ultimately deciding to reply that they could come. Niniel smiled and kissed his temple.
“We will be ready,” she whispered. “Thank you,” she added.
“For what?” Beregar asked, turning to grab Niniel’s hand in his own, and catching her eyes with his.
Niniel smiled, “For still being the man I fell in love with.”
There was a heavy silence that fell between them as they sat together upon the couch, though neither was upset. Instead, it was as if they were lost in each other’s eyes, and Beregar recalled all the times that they were courting and he had declared to her, “If you do take my hand, I promise that I shall never tire of you. Nothing shall ever captivate me as you do.” And it was still true. The same wonder at her beauty that he had held all those years ago he felt then.
Finally he broke the silence with a rather boyish grin, raising his finger to trace along Niniel’s cheek. “Gilwen shall not be home until late,” he offered.
Niniel laughed a little, though smiled. “No, she will not.” Another short silence.
“And if my brother is to come stay with us,” Beregar continued in a rather pleasant manner. “We shall not have much time alone.”
“No, we shall not.” Niniel agreed with sparkling eyes. Another short silence passed.
“Come, love. Let us go make sure we enjoy it together now.” The light in Beregar’s eyes was unmistakable; it was love and desire. In his disapproval of Gilwen’s Faeldor, Beregar well overlooked the fact that he held the same lover’s spirit that Beregar did.
“And what of the letter?” She asked playfully. “Should you not reply?” She took his hand and they stood, Beregar wrapping his arms fully about her and kissing her lips once with a smile.
“I will reply,” he murmured softly. “But, I think it can wait.” Niniel agreed.
