Gilwen
Man
servant
There are times when silence has the loudest voice.[Mo0:0]
Posts: 593
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Post by Gilwen on Jun 6, 2010 23:36:18 GMT -5
Gilwen smiled behind her fork as Faeldor spoke to her and prattled on seamlessly about birthdays and the family. It was very clear they had many reasons to celebrate; each member of the family was a blessing from the Valar. It was a wonderful thing to be able to celebrate people and their lives and love. Something that Gilwen had truly never done much of before.
“That is much celebration,” the lady said softly. “In my family, we never had time or funds to do much. I suppose we would have done even less had I a family like yours.” In truth, Gilwen was surprised she had mentioned such a thing aloud. Still, she did nothing but bite her lip a moment and refocus herself upon the heavy fork as she fought it to her lips once more.
“I am glad you can eat again.”
Gilwen was glad too. No more humiliation need be felt from her now; Faeldor would not have to spoon feed her anymore, and she would be able to grow healthier for him. She would fight as hard as she could to get back to her original health as quickly as she could. The woman’s pride was certainly fueling her now. And while in the back of her mind Gilwen seemed to be aware that she would most likely press her bounds a few times and end up with a scolding word or two from her beloved or his mother, she did not care. She was going to get better.
Faeldor began to move around, finished already with his meal. It seemed a wave of frustration hit the bedridden maiden as she fought with the fork once more. He was already finished; she was keeping him waiting for that lovely outing he had promised her. She did so desire to leave these walls behind. There was not much to do from the bed but stare, and she had learned this room inside out.
“Keep eating, I need to go ask Mother a question, but I shall be right back.”
“Oh,” Gilwen said, a slight drop in her tone seeping its way into her voice. “All right,” she finished, once more strongly as she regained control of herself. She did not want Faeldor to leave her again. It was lonely in his room when nobody else came in to sit with her. It was perfect for sleep, though when she was awake, there was not much to keep the woman stimulated and interested. And the creature loved company; she liked to sit with someone, even if it was in silence.
It took her a few minutes before she ate again, though finally she took her eyes from the door and began to struggle with her fork once more. Inwardly she scolded herself. It seemed somewhat pathetic for her to be pained so badly by his absence then; he had promised her he would be right back, but more so, she was a grown woman and not a puppy.
It took Faeldor entirely too long to return to the room, though by the time he had she had eaten all she could force herself to take and lift, and her doe-eyes had watched the door steadily and expectantly. An obvious relief took her eyes as he reentered.
“They are all in the dining room, and I think now will be the best time to sneak out without being caught and sent back to bed.”
Faeldor had passed to the closet and pulled out her riding coat, and the lady immediately seemed a bit more alert and happy. She was ready to get outside; and, as he moved to help dress her, she gave no fight or protest. She was entirely ready to go with him. The coat was warm, and Gilwen adored its feel immediately. She had not realized how chilled she was until the garment had been put on.
She smiled at him childishly; she was humming with excitement to leave the room. She would have run downstairs herself if she could have; though, she mused inwardly, if she could have done that, she would not be trapped in bed rest.
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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 Jun 8, 2010 21:03:47 GMT -5
“Just hold about my neck,” Faeldor smiled, after finally throwing a warmer tunic over his shirt and moving back to the bed where Gilwen sat on the edge, bundled in her warm coat and ready to go. “You know that I would never drop you, and do not really need you to do so, but I like your arms about me. Now,” he added in a hushed voice, “No words, my Starlight, I do not wish for her to catch us and send you back to bed. Not yet anyway. Sometimes mothers do not understand that a few minutes out of bed when you have been trapped there for days can help more than hinder recovery.”
The man moved slowly out the door and down the hall and stairway. Hearing the family below, still in the dining room, he kept his steps quiet as he passed through the back door of the sitting room onto the garden steps as the chill evening air hit them. The sky was dimly lit, still a deep orangish pink over the white garden walls, and Faeldor took Gilwen all the way to the back, near the wall and behind the great shade tree which had thrived there for many years even before Faelon and Meleth had moved to the city.
Faeldor carefully lowered Gilwen to her feet, though he did not let go of her, and he lowered himself to the ground, pulling her down in front of him, and sitting her between his knees. Then he drew her back into him, and leaning against the tree he sighed. “Not a bad night to sit outdoors,” he finally spoke again, pulling Gilwen’s small frame even closer, and wrapping his arms about her after brushing his pocket to make sure the ring was still in place. He smiled to himself. Now, he could ask her.
“I have missed sitting with you. Hopefully someday soon again I can take you for a ride. Laerdin must truly miss you in the stables, and I’m afraid I have not spent much time with either of the horses lately. The stable lads have kept them active though I know…” Anytime now.
The Stablemaster moved Gilwen about once more, this time drawing her up onto his lap, that she was sideways and he might see her face, and so that the ground would not cause her to be too cold. A low thunder rumbled in the distance, predicting that a late autumn rainstorm would cover them tonight. “It’s still a bit far off,” the man said assuringly. And if it did begin to rain they were merely in the back garden. It would only take a moment to reach the house.
“The rain… that is… hmm… look at you in this dress. You are so fine in yellow, so bright and lovely,” he smiled, and then laughed slightly, noting that the lady was still barefooted, her dainty ankles and feet poking out from beneath the dress. He had forgotten to help her with her stockings and shoes, and she had said nothing to him of the matter when he had placed her on the ground, though certainly she would be cold! “And such pretty feet, of which I simply cannot bear to have covered. Quite perfect.” He snuggled the woman against him with one arm, though reached out to grasp one of her white feet in his hands.
“If I recall my Lady is very ticklish…” he commented, though only held her foot, and wished that he had brought a cloak out with him to cover her feet from the cold. Well, in truth they would not be out too long, and she could not grow cold against his body. He squeezed her foot lightly and then wrapped his arm back around her.
The ring is in your pocket, Faeldor. Just ask her. You already know her answer. The man thought to himself, though for some strange reason the thought of simply asking made him nervous.
“I…wish…” he started, though fumbled with words yet again. “I… oh… is it not a lovely sunset tonight?” Confound it, just ask! “A lovely sunset, with my bright lady, in a bright dress. I should always be able to find you in this dress. Even in the midst of a crowded market. I will have no difficulty finding you now…”
You have not asked her yet. The normally wordy man was rambling in a nonsensical way. “And it goes well with your eyes,” he added, tilting her chin up to look upon his face. “The yellow… and the dress… or… that is what I mean.”
He took a deep breath, ready to get to the point. Draw the ring from your pocket and just hold it out to her. That is where you can start. The man’s thoughts seemed sensible, yet, he did not follow them, and instead continued to ramble. “Yellow is a nice color. There are birds, and flowers, and sunsets… A good color for a dress for my 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 Jun 8, 2010 22:23:07 GMT -5
Gilwen smiled and wrapped her arms about Faeldor’ s neck as he instructed; she trusted him and she knew that he would never drop her mistakenly from his arms. He took care of her and he was gentle, she never would worry over such an accident. But her arms about his neck felt fine indeed. He cautioned her against words, though such a command seemed strange. Gilwen hardly desired to speak anyway. It was clear Faeldor was indeed in a mood for closeness, and when such an emotion overtook him it was hardly necessary for her to speak at all; he would speak, and he would pull her close. Her only task was to bask in his warmth and tell him of her love in motion and not word.
Still, the remark seemed to spur his own quietness, and the two of them made it out into the cool night air with no interruptions. Gilwen had not realized how cozy it had felt in Faeldor’s home, though now that she was in the fresh air, for the first time many weeks to her knowledge, everything felt cold. It nipped at her face and hands, and while the girl wished to shiver, her spirits were too high to allow her to lay a complaint. She had so desired to leave the room. Her only regret now was not having stopped to don stockings or shoes. Her toes already felt a chill from where they were peeking from under her dress.
He set her down carefully, mindful of her weakened state, and held her close. She burrowed against him as well as she could, and as he brought his arms to wrap about her, she slid her own over his. “Not a bad night to sit outdoors.” She smiled. “No, it is not,” she agreed quietly. And other than the coldness Gilwen felt in the air, it certainly was a lovely evening. The sky was clear, and the hues of the sky shone bright as the vivid brushstrokes of the Valar prepared to vanish beneath a dark blue blanket of glittering stars.
All of a sudden, Faeldor began to talk; just as Gilwen predicted, the moment of physical closeness sparked the man to speak, and Gilwen had little need to chime in. Still, even to the lady there was something distinctly different about his rambles this time. With each passing sentence it became more obvious.
“The rain… that is… hmm… look at you in this dress. You are so fine in yellow, so bright and lovely. And such pretty feet, of which I simply cannot bear to have covered. Quite perfect.”
Gracious, he was not even sitting her still! He shifted her so that she was now sitting atop his lap, though still pulled warmly against him. She laughed a little as he reached for her foot, though the sound held tracings of confusion and a bit of worry. Was he all right? “If I recall my Lady is very ticklish…” “Fael,” she said quietly. “Your mother would surely hear…” It seemed, though, she had not needed to say anything, he did nothing more than cradle her little foot in his large hand, and she once more looked to him.
He certainly looked a bit worried. Was it worry? She could not rightly read his grey eyes, and she frowned a little bit and lifted a hand to touch his cheek. “Faeldor…” she whispered, though did not have a chance to continue. Once more, his seemingly trackless thoughts came to words. “I…wish… I… oh… is it not a lovely sunset tonight? A lovely sunset, with my bright lady, in a bright dress. I should always be able to find you in this dress. Even in the midst of a crowded market. I will have no difficulty finding you now… And it goes well with your eyes. The yellow… and the dress… or… that is what I mean. Yellow is a nice color. There are birds, and flowers, and sunsets… A good color for a dress for my Gilwen.”
Gilwen smiled and laughed, though frowned curiously. “Yes, it…it is a fine dress. Your mother is talented.” She paused a moment. “I love yellow,” she admitted. She had not known that Faeldor so adored the color, too. Even now, after she felt like she had known him so well, she was learning new things about her beloved! It was a wonder to her. “”I had a dress this color once before,” she said quietly, letting a hand trail down her thigh upon the fabric. The very memory caused her to smile a bit softer, and her eyes danced lightly with old an old memory of her childhood.
“When I was young, Papa bought me one just like this. He told me it was yellow, like the sun. He told me I looked like sunshine,” her voice was light, though perhaps heavy about the edges where her heart still pained with the hurt Beregar had given her in the present. Still, she moved on. “It is funny,” she began slowly, laughing. “It is funny that you like me in yellow, for you call me your Starlight. And in this color, I am clad in the color of the sun.”
“Meleth said you picked the color yourself,” she added. “I had no idea you liked yellow so.”
There was finally a break long enough for Gilwen to frown concernedly. “…Fael? Is something wrong? Your words…they are different tonight.” They were not bad. She did not read in him any fear. But there was anxiety. His words were nervous and plenty; it was unlike him to be so lost in conversation. And where he was failing, she was oddly being strong. Her own words had been plenty and strong. Had something happened when he had stepped out of the room for that time? Something that made him uncomfortable? She lifted a hand once more to caress his jaw. “Did…did something happen?” She asked tentatively.
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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 Jun 9, 2010 10:11:26 GMT -5
Faeldor smiled, relaxing for awhile when Gilwen began to speak. It was out of character for her to speak so much, save when she was under the influence of a bit of wine. But Faeldor knew she had not consumed a drop of fermented drink. However, he liked the sound of her voice, and it calmed him somewhat. She was concerned for him, which was her normal self. Since she had lost her job, and amidst this illness, she had not been herself.
“No… nothing happened,” he said, his voice returning to its normal tone. “I am well, and you are getting well. I am not troubled... I am… simply thinking too much for our own good.”
“I just…” the man paused again, catching the slender hand that caressed his cheek, and holding it to him for a moment, before leaning in to press his lips against Gilwen’s creased brow. “Do not fret,” he mumbled, kissing her cheek next, and finally taking her lips, relaxing against her. “I love you in yellow,” he smiled as he pulled back from the kiss. Finally getting the nerve he slipped a hand to his pocket and took the silver ring up in his fist, though shortly wrapped his arm about Gilwen again, making the motion unnoticeable.
He moved his smile back to her lips, pausing briefly before he kissed her again to state, “But you are right, I do think I would prefer you even better in white, my Starlight.” Likely, what had come out sounding perfect to Faeldor, had little understanding on Gilwen’s part, and so he let her mull over the words while he let his mouth cover hers, kissing her sweetly and gently for a time.
As he did so, he warmly took her hand again in his, brushing his thumb over her palm and against her knuckles, and finally, he slipped the ring upon her finger. He was right at the size, for it was a bit loose, but such a thing hardly mattered at this point.
“Marry me,” he finally said gently, pulling back from the kiss. Then, he raised her hand to his lips, that she might see the silver band he had placed upon her finger, with its delicate engravings and tiny gem. “Will you be my wife?” He kissed the palm of Gilwen’s hand, then the back of it, smiling that he had finally asked, and his eyes gleaming because he already knew the answer of which his love would give him.
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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 Jun 9, 2010 17:34:52 GMT -5
He took her lips, and Gilwen smiled beneath his kiss. He had said he was thinking too much. Perhaps now he was collecting himself. The way he was touching her, holding her and kissing her certainly seemed more like the man she fell in love with. Whatever had been causing his mind such torment and left it in trackless words had surely left him: his motions were fluid now.
“But you are right, I do think I would prefer you even better in white, my Starlight.”
He had stopped kissing her to offer her those words, and the lady frowned lightly once more. “Fael, what—?“ Before she could fully form her sentence, he had taken her lips again. Better in white? What was he talking about? What had that to do with her yellow dress? Perhaps he was thinking of the day at the river, when she had dried in naught but her chemise upon the bank. Even then he had complimented her in the color. Did he wish her to remove her gown here? It was far too cold for such a thing, even if she would have wanted to oblige.
Such thoughts now swirled through her own head, though Faeldor had once more regained himself. Her thoughts were utterly stopped, though, as she felt something slipped upon her finger. She gasped, and the kiss was broken.
“Marry me.”
He swept up her hand and kissed her knuckles, but her eyes were fixated on the small and glittering ring that was now upon her hand. It was little, though even so it looked large upon her finger. It was silver, the same color as Faeldor’s eyes in the moonlight, with a tiny gem upon the top, and swirling engravings around the band. A ring.
“Will you be my wife?”
Her heart was hammering in her chest, and her mouth was gaping slightly to allow herself to breathe at all. “Fael…” she whispered breathlessly. His wife. She had dreamt of such a thing, they had spoke of such a thing. But a formal proposition was something entirely different, and no amount of preparation could have prepared Gilwen for the moment her Faeldor had asked officially for her hand and handed her in turn a ring for her to wear that claimed her as his own.
Slowly, she began to glow, and underneath her gasps for air, Gilwen began to smile. Her eyes began to dance and shine, and her little heart fluttered within her. His wife. “Fael!” She exclaimed excitedly once more, unable to form any word but his own name. She rocked herself forward, throwing her arms about his neck as tightly as she could manage while kissing his cheek amply with gleeful giggles pouring from her. “Y-yes. Yes! Fael!” She bit her lip a moment, trying to regain her composure, but her joy was too great and could not be reigned in by such a small motion. Instead she continued to shower his face with kisses; his forehead, temple, cheeks, nose, into his dark curls and upon his ears the woman’s eager lips fell.
She was breathless, She was overextending herself. But she did not care. “Yes, I will marry you. I love you,” she finally gasped as she collapsed against him and tucked her head against his shoulder. She was his. Now nobody in all of Arda could claim her as their own.
Did Beregar give him blessing for her hand? Had she been worried all along for nothing? “You got Papa’s blessing!” She said happily, without restraint. That must have been it! And that meant Beregar still loved her!
Another swell of love filled her and she kissed his jaw softly. She would never have been a wife to another.
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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 Aug 21, 2010 18:58:15 GMT -5
Faeldor laughed along with his Gilwen. She stuttered and stumbled over her words, but he could see well that she was delighted. There was no hidden upset or question on her face. She had taken no hesitation in answering; she would marry him. Though her words took some moments in coming, her actions spoke for her, and she was joyous. Though, just when Faeldor was about to speak again and remind the woman not to exert herself, she spoke again, this time clearly.
“You got Papa’s blessing!”
The words sent a stop to Faeldor’s laughter, and his face fell for a moment. “No… I have asked your father for his blessing many times, and he refused to give it.” His voice was cold, and the warmth had left his eyes as he thought on the man who despised him, and who had hurt Gilwen on numerous occasions with a bitter word or even a look.
“Your mother though, she gave me her own blessing. A father who sends his daughter out has no further right to keep me from marrying her. He left you on your own, and within your own rights that is your decision to make now. He gave up his honor and right to give me your pretty hand.”
Faeldor swallowed the lump that was returning to his throat upon the image of Gilwen as he found her that day; scarcely breathing and cold upon the wet street. “He sent you out onto the streets. You might have died and he would not have even known.
The man fumbled for what to say for the second time this evening, and instead took up Gilwen’s ringed hand to kiss it. As he had figured, the ring was slightly too large now for her slender fingers, and so he reached to gently remove it from her hand, taking the chain from his pocket to string it upon, and soon fastening the chain about her neck.
“When you are healthy again this should fit you better,” he commented quietly, pausing for an instant before continuing. “
A distant thunder, now growing closer rumbled once more, and Faeldor looked up to see the grey storm clouds hovering over them. “Those rain clouds will hover behind so many memories…” the man commented softly, slipping his arms back about the woman fully, and pressing her lightly against his chest as he tried to dispell the thought of that horrible storm that had caused her illness, and which continued on through the days when she was weak and delusional. He felt his throat tightening once more, still on the verge of a highly emotional display, which he did not care to show his Gilwen at the moment, and he struggled to think of better thoughts.
“Remember the day when you were soaked clear through with lye water, the day after I met you?” he pulled the thought from his lips. Though that part of the day had not been entirely pleasant, the next part was. “And then it rained, and that rain was so cool and refreshing. It soaked us through, but it rinsed that horrid sting from your skin, and we had such fun going to the stables, you were laughing all the way, as if you had not just been insulted and dumped into a bucket during your working hours. There I had another glimpse of the joy in your heart. You would not let little things test that gladness you had. And in the courtyard, I remember standing and drinking you in even as the grass wishes to drink the rain. You had droplets on your lashes and wet trails on your cheeks, and you looked so lovely… and so kissable. I wanted to stand with you through a thousand storms, and I will. You did not know that then, but now you do.”
He loosened the woman he was holding, leaning back to look at her face again, having now gained control of himself. “Every storm. But even better… every bright and sunny day as well. How soon may I marry you?” Faeldor smiled, pressing his lips to Gilwen’s cheek and smiling again.
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Gilwen
Man
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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 Sept 9, 2010 3:19:04 GMT -5
“No… I have asked your father for his blessing many times, and he refused to give it.”
Gilwen’s laughter faded away, and a great heaviness crept into her heart; hearing the change in Faeldor’s tone and was enough to break her completely, and she sighed inwardly and fought back tears. No tears should fall at the moment of a moment so wonderful and beautiful save for ones of joy. She and Faeldor were betrothed, and the world would soon see how much they loved each other.
“He gave up his honor and right to give me your pretty hand. He sent you out onto the streets. You might have died and he would not have even known.”
“Fael…” She stopped. Her face contorted as if the tears were soon to fall, though she kept herself under some control by touching lightly the ring about her neck as it was fastened to her. The ring held some sort of comfort now.
They had been through so much trial, but this ring showed that it was worth every moment that she had suffered. Gilwen was utterly in love; the man before her should never feel upset on her behalf. They had both been so happy before, and now he seemed crestfallen and grey. Slowly, she leaned forward and touched her lips to his beard lightly.
He asked her if she remembered the day of the lye water. “How could I forget?” Gilwen asked in turn. She smiled. He had sung to her that day, he had cared for her. That rush of warmth and flutters of nerves he had given her still set her heart to hum faster in her chest. In face, his kisses still set her heart in such a state. May they forever do so, she thought lovingly. Oh, her Faeldor. Her love.
“Every storm. But even better… every bright and sunny day as well. How soon may I marry you?”
He smiled and kissed her cheek, and Gilwen smiled as well. “When I am well,” she whispered happily, nuzzling her nose against his. That could take a good few months. She did not want to say it aloud, but she thought it. Such a thought was hard pressing.
“And…well…if we are to have a ceremony, I shall need work to raise the money for it. And for my dress.” Arien had been adamant about making her wedding dress one day, and now! Finally the time had come. Yet such things cost money, and even Arien could hardly do something so lavish for free.
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Faeldor
Man
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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 Apr 17, 2011 16:59:01 GMT -5
"When you are well... yes... indeed, that sounds fine. You will be well soon," Faeldor happily agreed. Gilwen was returning to herself once more.
“And…well…if we are to have a ceremony, I shall need work to raise the money for it. And for my dress.”
"Of course, you will have the loveliest dress," Faeldor agreed again, inwardly planning to himself on how he would convince her to allow him provide the funds. He was going to marry her as she said, as soon as she was well again. And that being, she could not work while she was unwell, and she would not have time to save now that she was well. The man contemplated that she would have a right struggle finding a profitable job under her current name and status... once she was with him she might work... not that she would need to.
Oh, too many thoughts struggled through the man's mind at once! He grinned, and the storm moved closer. "It is best I take my Starlight indoors before the rain chills her. We can look over the gardens from the window seat in the bedroom if you like, or we could even take to the sitting room if you prefer. I--"
"Faeldor son of Faelon, are you trying to put her on her death bed?!" a commandeering voice called from the edge of the garden. Upon finding her charge missing from the bedroom, and all the common rooms of the house, a glance out the window and the sight of a yellow dress told her what had happened.
"Mother, what say you? This lady is hardly on her death bed," Faeldor grinned, standing and helping Gilwen to her feet. He led her walking slowly up the path as Meleth frowned on. "She is becoming quite well, Mum, you see." Gilwen's smile was quite captivating and her cheeks were rosy from the chill passing through the air before the storm, and to Faeldor, she appeared healthy and fair once more.
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