Floured Welcome (Calon)

[Calon]

Calon chuckled as Beleth spoke of wedding in her undergarments. “Well, I suppose it is only fitting that we wear what makes us most comfortable.” He let a lopsided and charming smile come to his lips. “I should rather marry in hunting greens than velveteen any day!”

She continued, and the huntsman could not help it. He feigned surprise upon his face. “Nightingale, you think me handsome?” Though, he could not hold the expression long. Once again, his joy chased such a mask away. “Well, may then I surprise you. You are, certainly, the finest woman in all the land!”

Perhaps Calon’s adoration of the lady had not been driven heavily by her beauty; while Narbeleth was certainly stunning of face and body, it was her personality that had attracted him so. She was larkish and light, and everything freedom was for him. He had not pursued much physically, and instead enjoyed their banter and laughter, their plans for hunting and adventures. Now, though, Calon could not rid himself of the pleasant notion that after tomorrow, it would be their wedding night. And, the man mused pleasantly to himself, he would certainly make sure they both enjoyed it.

“Come, let us fetch our bedding and find a cove in which to sleep. Then I shall sing to you once more, my weary traveler and sooth his muscles, while we watch the waves catch the stars, and plan our many adventures."

“Yes,” Calon answered, lacing his fingers through hers and beginning to pace his way to their clothes. His were, he saw, quite scattered. “Perhaps our first adventure shall be breaking the news to our families,” he mused aloud. “Remlas will be quite devastated, I do believe,” he added as an afterthought.

His mother had, after all, written to him that Remlas had found the woman he was to marry. No, Calon had known, he had met the one that Calon would. “As will Faeldor. You know, he is the one who gave me leave to come here. Granted, he was a bit distracted at the time.” For a moment only the stable hand’s face looked grave. Soon, though, it flickered away. The Valar had certainly orchestrated this in perfection.

“My mother quite loves you though,” he continued. “And I am pretty sure my father will like you in the family as well.” His grin returned. “Though, I suppose they shall have to come visit us now in the City,” he lamented with an airy sigh. “They will want to meet your family. And ours.” Calon was not one to really think on his own children that much. He was, for certain, more captivated by other things and desires at the time. But, if Beleth was his wife, surely they would have them eventually.

[Narbeleth]

“I should rather marry in hunting greens than velveteen any day!”

“You look fine in your hunting greens, that is certain. Though... I have not yet seen you dragging a stag while wearing them,” Narbeleth mused. “Perhaps we should honeymoon in the forest, and I shall see your hunting greens in action.”

“Perhaps our first adventure shall be breaking the news to our families. Remlas will be quite devastated, I do believe.”

“Yes, and Remmy went through all the trouble to re-string Uncle Linnon's old bow for me. Seems a pity for him. But he shall be a nice brother. Kind as can be,” Beleth simpered, smiling at Calon. “If only I had a sister for him. Marileth is quite taken with you, though I'm afraid she would be a bit too meek for the likes of your family, and too young. And neither would my cousins fit him. Oh, I can't think of a single person who he would seem to enjoy enough. I have had many friends... but never girls who were quite like myself.”

As a child, Narbeleth had been gangly, and muscular for a girl, as she could never sit still. She knew all the handwork that was taught to young girls, but she had never excelled in it, or taken a thrill in completing an embroidery, tapestry, garment, or blanket. She had always been kind and friendly, and thus she had other children to play with, but indeed! She had never quite fit in among the girls, and she had never quite been accepted among the boy! The girl had often times found herself lonely, though she had been surrounded with friends and family.

Perhaps it was why she had grown so attached to Calon. He would not expect her to take pleasure over handwork. Certainly she would do the tasks of a housewife for him as he worked in the stables during the day. The cleaning, washing, and mending must be done... but he would not expect her to make their home fashionable, to spend a great deal of time prettying her hair and face. He would rather that she spent the time with him. She mused, he would prefer a simple chicken pie over an elaborate meal any day, and the time that she saved in not cooking great and elaborate dishes would be spent with him. Her Calon wished to be with her, and she with him, and they would enjoy each other's laughter and energy. With Calon, there had never been any pretense.

“Certainly, he wouldn't need a woman quite as wild as you need... but she cannot be mild, that is certain.” Narbeleth had spent enough time with Calon's brother to see this.

“My mother quite loves you though. And I am pretty sure my father will like you in the family as well. Though, I suppose they shall have to come visit us now in the City. They will want to meet your family.”

“I did adore your parents, though, I hardly know them. Certainly we shall know each other better as time goes on, and once we have a place for them to stay, they will be welcome to visit our home. Our home on the fourth tier,” she smiled, thinking upon it. A home with Calon would be lovely... Narbeleth imagined. Calon would sit in the evenings and wax his bow, and fletch arrows, and Narbeleth beside him. They would have a big hearth, with a bearskin rug in front of it, and their hunting dog way lie at their feet. The room would be little furnished, at least upon the floor space, for she would often move the chairs and rug aside, and dance for her husband, and, at least in the confines of their home, where it would not be considered frilly, with him.

“And ours.”
“Why, they shall already know ours, for there are only the two of us,” Narbeleth mused , smiling up at the man. The two of them, who by this very time tomorrow would be wed, and considered one and whole. Nobody but the Valar could then separate them. The two of them... oh, he was speaking of children. Our family. Narbeleth gulped slightly. Of course Calon would wish for sons and daughters.

“When we get back to the Firien wood, we should need to hunt that bear that you mentioned, for I will need a rug for the hearth,” she moved beyond the subject, hoping that her Calon would overlook it and prefer to speak of the great bear that would dominate the floor near the hearth. But now in her mind, she could only think of the children who would sit upon that bear rug, as they played with their wooden horses, soldiers, and dolls. Toy bows and arrows, dancing and singing, pet dogs, and talk of the day when they would join their father on his hunts. It was a pleasant thought. Narbeleth did not doubt that she would enjoy raising children with Calon.

For a moment, Narbeleth's eyes were that of a fearful girl. She knew well of caring for children, and she had been training for several years now in the practice of midwifery. She knew the labor and birthing was no easy matter, though she knew she was strong and could handle the process. Though... she had always thought Calon handsome, first just his smile and laughter, as he chased down her hen and caught it for her, and in later days she had noticed the rest of him more fully. She had come to appreciate all manner of things about him, from strength and spirit of adventure, to kindness, and the gentleness in which he always seemed to take her hand, and now the love which he had declared. Beyond that though, she realized there was more. More yet!

Childbearing began with a process that she was aware of, though knew very, very little of. Only that wish her sister had confided in her. Of course, Meleth had always seen her daughter as a “girl”. Not yet a woman, and had been given no need to explain the finer details. Had she known that she was planning to marry, she likely would have done so! But all that she had heard of the duty of a wife, was that it was miserable... completely miserable, painful, and unsatisfying. Of course, Miriel had other things that may have made it miserable... But Narbelth and Calon would be honorably wed, so that would not be an issue. Certainly Cal would expect it of her though? Or would he not? He did not wish for the traditional courtship, engagement, or wedding ceremony. Perhaps marriage with him would be different. Though she adored the man's arms about her, and kissing had been sublime, young Beleth studied him for a moment, her face holding an unmistakable true frown.

Miriel had as well admitted to embraces being her main desire in her time with Durion, and simply putting up with the rest. And Miriel was perhaps more of a lady than Narbeleth. Beleth truly cared for Calon though... and she knew Calon cared for her. Perhaps he would not wish to harm her in that way... She bit her lip for a moment, and then shortly they had come to their strewn garments. The woman attempted to calm herself. Tonight Calon would embrace her again, and kiss her, and they would be comfortable and happy. Tonight was not what she need fear!

[Calon]

“When we get back to the Firien wood, we should need to hunt that bear that you mentioned, for I will need a rug for the hearth.”

“Ah, yes,” Calon sighed. “That is quite a good idea—a bear pelt will be precisely what our home will be missing! You know, I already have the one in mind. It is quite nice, spacious. Lots of rooms. We will have space enough for a few hunting dogs. There is a breeder of some really nice ones right out in the Pelennor by the farms.” He let loose a laugh, and then added with a sparkling eye, “And I believe on the fourth tier no neighbors would object to a chicken coop. We might keep the city safe in our very yard, should we choose.” The thought to him was humorous, but brilliant. Chickens had brought him to her, and chickens there should be forevermore.

“My horse is stabled there, on the fourth tier. And yours is but a short walk away! There are bigger houses, I suppose, but I am not one for flash and frills—as you know. Still, it will be pleasant. And when we aren’t out having our adventures, we shall have a safe place to call our own.”

Calon noticed immediately that his nightingale’s tongue had fallen still, and that alerted him that something was off. He dropped his gaze to her by his side and raised his brow in surprise.

She was frowning.

Beleth, the child of Faelon who had a wild and pleasant spirit, was frowning. And after discussing such fine thoughts no less. The huntsman turned his eyes back to the sand ahead, marking their clothes as they neared them. “We don’t have to let the dogs in the house,” he offered. Perhaps that was it? No, certainly not. Beleth was not a woman that was going to be upset over some hounds!

Calon thought a moment. “Bel, what did I say that took away your smile?” He asked quite larkishly. Perhaps the sound was bright and light, but he meant it in all seriousness. Something had troubled her, and he wanted to know what.

“You can tell me, you know. I promise that I had quite made up my mind about marrying you since the day I aided you in the market with that hen—there is nothing that will change my mind.” He grinned and looked down at her again, giving her hand a pleasant squeeze.

They had reached their clothing, but Calon did not release her yet. He would grab them once he felt he was sufficiently answered, no sooner. Beleth deserved his attention first.

[Narbeleth]

“We don’t have to let the dogs in the house. Bel, what did I say that took away your smile?You can tell me, you know. I promise that I had quite made up my mind about marrying you since the day I aided you in the market with that hen—there is nothing that will change my mind.”
“Hounds... no...” Narbeleth muttered.

“Since the day in the market?” she suddenly smiled, caught away from her frustration. “Why, you didn't even ask me my name. However were you to find me again and marry me?” Her smile was bright momentarily, though, slowly dropped away again.

“I did not realize that you had thought of children,” Narbeleth stated slowly. “I know we have joked of your children... but I did not know that was truly your desire.” Though, that in truth was not the difficult issue. Beleth liked children, and would not mind raising some with Calon. Perhaps... not yet. She wanted time for them to first fulfill their desire for adventure. “No... that's not it.” She bit her lip.

“It is simply silly... I had absolutely not thought of it before this very moment... but I am terrified... to... to... be with a man. My sister told me... and if we wed you will certainly wish to... and...” She wasn't sure that she could finish a sentence. But Miriel had told her it was tremendously painful. Only a pretense that women used for the sake of pleasing their husbands, yet... why should any husband wish to hurt his wife so? Out of duty, she supposed. “I am being utterly ridiculous,” the young woman whispered.

Though Narbeleth was a strong and athletic woman, she could not handle pain in the least. “She told me the pain was excruciating. I do not think I would be able to please you in the least for that. And at any rate... I would not know what to do... and perhaps we might hunt, and run, and swim... but you've barely touched me before this night, and I'm afraid I would make a terrible lover... and... perhaps we should just marry as friends and companions. Perhaps... we should never have children for it, and live simply as brother and sister... ” Beleth found herself making absolutely no sense, and so she stopped talking, and looked up to Calon's face, biting her lip almost hard enough to make herself bleed. That was absolutely not what she wished for.

[Calon]

Out of all the things Calon would have imagined to hear, that was not it.

Surely, this was not it. It was a jest. For a moment the man blinked, his face falling into a pensive and searching frown as he looked to study Beleth’s grey eyes. No, he finally decided. She was being quite serious. “Bel,” he began. The huntsman fell silent. What in Eru’s name was he supposed to say? For perhaps the first time in his life, the man was at a loss for words.

“Nightingale,” he tried again, moving his hands to grip the woman’s upper arms warmly. “I don’t mind children. However, I am not marrying you so you can have my babies.” Maybe this was not the right way to go about it, but Calon was at a loss. “I am marrying you so we can have our adventures without anyone minding. If we happen to have children along the way, that will be all right with me.”

She was afraid of the pain? Well, laboring was certainly nothing a man would ever discredit. Every new father he ever met had spoken freely in the taverns as to how much stronger their wife was than they were. Some even admitted to feeling faint even as they sat in the other room and listened. But the act!

Calon’s eye somewhat glittered. “Beleth, if you do not wish to do anything with me tomorrow night,” for, that was their wedding night after all, “I will not make you. Still, do remember it is not duty that brings husbands and wives to their bed. Most readily enjoy it.”

He grinned now. “There is a reason, I think, your mother has so many children of her own. And while men are wont to think that such activity is fun, I have also never heard a married woman protest the fact that such duties are enjoyable. It has, I do believe, a lot to do with your partner.”

With that, the man released his nightingale and turned to gather up his clothes. He continued, calling back over his shoulder. “That is not to say I would like children right away—we have plenty of time for that. What I want is you, some freedom, and exciting escapades and adventures!”

He bundled up his garments and tucked them under his arm. “Now, what do you say we find that cove, hm? We should make the most of our betrothal time, I should think.” He winked. “Our courtship just flew right by!”

[Narbeleth]

“You really think it will be nice? ...For us both?” Narbeleth asked, pathetically, her voice high, reaching down to pick up her own discarded clothing. She reached for Calon's hand next, and pressed near to his side. She was growing chilled in her wet chemise, and would be glad to remove herself back into her dress. For a moment she despaired that she had picked a summer dress, and it would be even cooler for not the thin chemise beneath it. It had seemed nice enough for Calon's home, and she had not expected to stay out the evening. But then she mused, Calon was warm. She had no hesitation in drawing near to him.

“I suppose... Miriel was speaking of Durion anyhow. My flesh would burn and peel if he were to even lay a finger on me. That could account for some of it.” Beleth had no idea how Miriel had managed. “Then again, perhaps it was her version, to tell me as such, of Faeldor's ploy to keep me away from you. She may as well have been one of the spies working for him. I do not know.”

“Now, what do you say we find that cove, hm? We should make the most of our betrothal time, I should think. Our courtship just flew right by!”

“What does a betrothed couple do, that is different from a courting couple?” Beleth wondered. “I wonder what is the advantage of the betrothal period, other than to plan a wedding. I do not understand it,” Narbeleth sighed. She hoped her mother would not be too disappointed to miss her courtship and betrothal, along with her wedding. Mother would have planned the event to be much too frilly though, for Calon's sake. Narbeleth could put up with reciprocity, long heavy dresses, and of course the music and dancing... for a time. Yet she appealed to a more simple day where she had the freedom to spend her time laughing with Calon. Mother cared more for her happiness than all those other little things. She sighed happily. Being with Calon was truly to marry freedom. She could think of no true heartache that could ever result from their union, and the encouragement to live a simple, yet exciting life was almost unheard of. The Valar had certainly stepped in upon their meeting, for she had never held someone so dear to her heart.

“I suppose... for our betrothal... we might make good headway on our experiment?” she suggested, beginning to come back to her former cheerfulness. “I am growing weary from our swim-chase, yet that is still an activity we might do for awhile sitting down,” she prattled.

“Do you know where we might find our cove?” Narbeleth wondered. “I'm afraid I haven't explored much of the shoreline here...” She had been trying her best to not run into Remlas, who seemed to frequent the shore in the evenings, and almost always, if she had traveled this direction, she would come upon him. She almost thought he had planned to catch her out by the waters, and then talk to her for a time. She supposed, perhaps it was always his routine to come here in the first place, and she had been pressing into his time... though her suspicious told her that this simply was not the case. How odd it would be the next day to greet him, and to tell him their news.

[Calon]

“Of course I do,” Calon said brightly. He reached for Beleth’s hand, and began to lead her further down the beach. Beleth spoke to him some more, and Calon grinned the wider as she continued. “Well, it is just a label, I suppose. But, I figure that we could find out the joys of betrothal tonight on our own.”

He had a place in mind, a cove that was sheltered from the winds and where the beach’s sand was soft and white. The waves would not reach them, but their melody would. It would be the perfect spot for his nightingale. “I do believe science is the perfect way to spend our evening. My curiosity is rightly piqued, I’d say! Now, just a little further and we can do our study for the rest of the night, should you like.”

He drew her a tad closer, eyes dropping happily to look upon her. “There is a place ahead that is the perfect for us, I’d think. The moon is bright tonight, and I am sure the cove is shining silver. The waves won’t touch us—and we might build a fire, if we wish. I could find some driftwood along the beach without much trouble. It is a bit cooler this winter, now.”

--

Remlas had held a heavy heart since his brother had swept in and taken Beleth away. Linnon’s house was a fine place, he did not think that it was poor in hospitality nor indeed was it in poor company. However, it had not been Linnon’s daughters that had brought him to spend so much time there. It was his niece. The sprightly young lady from Minas Tirith that shone like sunlight.

Apparently, though, his brother had already set his eye on her. Of all the girls in Minas Tirith! Remlas should have gone to Minas Tirith instead. Maybe he would follow Calon back. Grandfather was getting on in his years, and had written a few times about needing help specifically at the shop. Maybe…maybe there was someone like her there. Someone that was so perfect.

He trailed along the path, aimlessly wandering before he realized exactly where he was headed. “Blast it,” he grumbled. He had made it a habit to go down to the beachside to pass some extra time with that wonderful daughter of Minas Tirith. He was standing on the road now, and could spy the grey and silver waves cresting underneath the moonlight.

Still, he was in poor spirits and began to make his way toward the shore anyway. Likely, Beleth was at his home anyway, and Calon was probably charming her with his quick tongue. He always had been the better talker.

He stepped forward one more time before he fell absolutely still. There was his brother, scooping up his clothes. And beside him. Remlas caught his breath so fiercely, his chest hurt. Beleth, in a white nightdress and shining in the silver light of the moon. And they were holding hands.

“Well, brother,” Remlas muttered, handsome face falling into a pained frown. “…You won.” Still, the man could not bring himself to turn away. For a moment, he stood and imagined what it would have been like to be in his place. She had never looked at him like that.

--

He turned back to the sand ahead, and continued to pace his way toward the cove. “You seem a tad cold,” he observed pleasantly. “Though, I suppose if you are so troubled and fire cannot help you, I could find the bear a little early!” He openly laughed, the sound soaring into the air like a gull. One cooed from a nest, piercing the night air with a laugh like Calon’s own.

They moved for a ways onward before they came to the place. “Here we are, Bel! A nice, special roost for my Nightingale!” He motioned grandly to the blankets of sand and moonlight, the green vines that clung and crawled their way up the pale rocks. “You know, if you follow those branches, there are the most succulent wild berries I have ever tasted! You can hike to the top from the other side, of course—but that isn’t much fun.”

[Narbeleth]

“There is a place ahead that is the perfect for us, I’d think. The moon is bright tonight, and I am sure the cove is shining silver. The waves won’t touch us—and we might build a fire, if we wish. I could find some driftwood along the beach without much trouble. It is a bit cooler this winter, now.”

Narbeleth looked again to the sea and to the cliffs as they walked once more to the trail as they began their walk to Calon's cove. He spoke splendidly of it, and she much anticipated the rest of their evening. It was as if the wooded path that they had followed to the seashore had called to her, and she turned for a moment to glance behind, still smiling from Calon's description of their cove, and the beautiful evening they were partaking.

For a moment, she was frightened, to see a figure of a man standing nearby, on the edge of the trail and watching. She noticed quickly though that the man was Remlas. Oh pity, he had come for a walk and noticed them... he was staring so directly, and Narbeleth realized that they must look a sight, both still dripping wet, and she in her undergarments. Beleth looked back to Calon as they stepped along the shore. His face was near creased with happiness and contentment. She was not going to mention his brother now, and ruin his mood. The dark haired woman glanced once more back to Remlas, attempting a smile, and then shyly looked away pressing her shoulder against Calon as they went. They would speak the next day. She felt a slight sting in her heart, for Remlas. He had become a good friend, and was a good man. Perhaps, had she met him first, she would have fallen for him. Yet by the time he had crossed her path, she had already been utterly taken by her Calon, and there could have been nothing to dissuade her.

“I should like that place,” Narbeleth answered finally, her voice a warm hum as she spoke. A fire should help us to dry, and then when it burns low, my huntsman will warm me and the stars only shall watch after us while we sleep. We must, perhaps, sleep in shifts on our return to the city, but on a night like this and here, we shall sleep together.”

“Here we are, Bel! A nice, special roost for my Nightingale! You know, if you follow those branches, there are the most succulent wild berries I have ever tasted! You can hike to the top from the other side, of course—but that isn’t much fun.”

“You pluck some driftwood, and I perhaps... perhaps I shall pluck some berries.” Narbeleth turned back to Calon, and planted a soft kiss upon his cheek, then thought aloud. “I shall need a satchel, and you will not be needing this yet anyhow.” She took the man's shirt from his arm and quickly knotted the bottom of it, and folded it to form a sort of pouch. Then, with her own belt, she tightened it about her waist, that it might go nowhere, then using the moonlight reflecting upon the white sand, she lit barefoot for the thick branches that wound their way up the ledge.

Confounded dress, she thought lightly to herself. She glanced back to Calon for a moment, and then unabashedly lifted the hem of her dress and tucked it into the bloomers that she wore beneath. He had seen her in her chemise, why not her bloomers as well, she presumed. By next week upon their return, she mused to herself, she would be washing his garments. She had nothing to hide. And climbing in a dress without taking that precaution could easily lead to a fall. At that, she started to climb the ledge. The winding vines served a strong foot and hand hold, and she had no difficulty in making her way nimbly to the top.

Climbing had never been a difficulty for the young woman. She could scale a bare rock wall if she needed, simply feeling along for footholds as she went. Her body moved light and quick, and if she had prepared herself, she certainly would have worn pants. Calon would grow used to seeing his lady in pantalets and a tunic if he were to take her hunting and climbing in the depths of the forest. She had, in fact, sewed for herself a new set since her arrival in Belfalas, realizing the difference once more in living the city life as compared to that of the country. Even her cousins at times would don in pantalets for excursions and picnics in the forest or on the cliffs. They were simply more manageable for the stunts, and no one ought see their bloomers!

Beleth laughed lightly, sitting on the rocky ledge for a moment as she caught her breath. Her chest heaved from the further exercise, and she felt the cool breeze blow over her from the Bay of Belfalas. The water rippled upon the sea, and the stars reflection in each wave. The moon hung in the sky as if on silver threads! My, what a beautiful place. A beautiful night that she knew she would not forget... nor would Calon. It was so good to be with him here and unhindered. She watched him for some moments before she crawled away from the ledge and stood barefoot, and suddenly on the soft grass, to look in the dim light for the berries that she had been informed were present.

Certainly the man knew this place well, for not far ahead she found the bushes of blueberries, and they were succulent and full. What a delight! Beleth could not resist placing the first two or three berries into her mouth to taste, and they were as sweet as her huntsman had mentioned. She then began to pick and place them in the bag at her waist, careful not to crush them. She hummed, and sang aloud as she worked happily onward. What a blessed night it was!

The sun has long been set,
The stars are out by twos and threes,
The little birds are piping yet
Among the bushes and trees;
There's a cuckoo, and one or two thrushes,
And a far-off wind that rushes,
And a sound of water that gushes,
And the cuckoo's sovereign cry
Fills all the hollow of the sky.
Who would "go parading"
“and masquerading,"
On such a night
With that beautiful soft moon,
And all these innocent blisses?
On such a night as this is!”

----



_{Poetry; The Sun Has Long Been Set, by William Wordsworth}

[Calon]

Remlas’ grave face seemed to darken all the more as Beleth looked to him from her distance away. Was she trying to smile? He could not even find it in his heart to try. He watched for a time as they picked their way down the beach, and then sighed heavily and turned upon his heels, retreating back to his home and praying his mother and father would be too caught up in something else to notice his dour mood. He did not feel like answering any questions.

--

“You pluck some driftwood, and I perhaps... perhaps I shall pluck some berries.”

Beleth stole his shirt and turned it into a bag to hold her spoils. Calon grinned boyishly. “I think the Valar had them grow so high to reward those that dared to climb. I must say, I have never known any other woman who would dare tread up those cliffs!” Still, he watched her and did not move to begin claiming the various wood and twigs that were strewn unevenly across the sand. He crossed his arms and watched her. He might not have ever told her so, but he was going to make sure she was all right to climb the way. He did not in the least doubt her strength, but even her light cotton summer dress was more inhibiting than anything Calon had ever worn when he had ventured to the top.

Beleth seemed to realize this, too, because the lady promptly tucked the hem of her skirts into her bloomers and began to spider her way up the vines. “I daresay you could have kept up with my brother and I when we were lads!” He laughed, making sure she had at least reached halfway before he turned to gather the wood for a fire.

It had not taken him long to gather enough. And, by hunting instinct and the fact that he had traveled long those past days, he had left some flint rock in a pouch upon his belt. It was not long before the silver cove turned to golden-orange, and the cool night air was warming by a pretty fire that danced and crackled in the silent night air, and before Calon turned around, he felt the warmth of it on his face.

Belfalas was safe—perhaps safer than even the mighty stone walls of the White City. He held no fear that he and his Beleth could lie under the starlight and come to no harm. Perhaps the Pelennor would be more of an issue. Orc sightings had certainly increased in the passing weeks, and quite a few farmers had held their share of problems. Calon, of course, would pack every provision he and Beleth would need for the journey. A sword, a few hunting knives and his trusted bow and quiver of arrows. He would not let them stop for long, nor indeed often. He would make all the haste he had carried when he was seeking Belfalas when it was finally time for them to return home. Maybe even more.

He could hear the lady’s voice waft down from the top of the cliffs. “There now, Bel,” he sang to the quiet air, turning and gazing up and straining against the darkness to try and spy her by the bushes. “Are you done with my shirt yet, or are you still picking?” His voice was cheery. “Right now the only thing I want that is up at the top of this rock is you.” He grinned all the brighter. "I am not so cold, perhaps, as to need a cloak...but I could be warmer," he added a bit suggestively.

[Narbeleth]

“I think the Valar had them grow so high to reward those that dared to climb. I must say, I have never known any other woman who would dare tread up those cliffs!”

“Hmm... Narbeleth commented, readying herself for her climb. “Well then, the other women will not taste such sweet berries, or bring down a basket full for their betrothed. What a lucky man you are,” she looked to Calon for a moment and then winked at him, lighting quickly up the rocks.

“I daresay you could have kept up with my brother and I when we were lads!”

“I would have made certain to do so,” Narbeleth called. In truth, she could almost keep up with her own brother the last time they had all come to the cliffs of Belfalas together, at the tender age of just eleven. She was simply lighter and quicker, and perhaps took to more daring hand holds than would support Faeldor's weight. True, she had fallen a few times as a youth, but she had learned how best to work her climbing.

As the woman determined to have picked enough berries for the two to have a nice, sweet treat, she worked her way carefully back toward the edge of the cliff. Calon had already the fire going! Perhaps she had lost track of time in her singing of songs and happy musings. She had thought, over the gentle sound of waves, that she may have heard a true nightingale singing on the branches above, and wished that she might see well enough in the dimness to spot it, and for awhile, she had stood still, enjoying the peace. Soon though, Calon's voice came to her ears.

“There now, Bel, are you done with my shirt yet, or are you still picking? Right now the only thing I want that is up at the top of this rock is you. I am not so cold, perhaps, as to need a cloak...but I could be warmer.”

“Quite done,” Beleth called down, coming back to the ledge. “I suppose I should leave some for the birds, that they might grace our morning with their music. Do not fear, I shall bring your shirt back, but I dare say, I will not give it to you,” she laughed. “Perhaps I shall warm you myself. You do not need a silly shirt to warm you when you have a fire, and a Nightingale to sit upon your lap and sing to you.”

At that, Narbeleth placed another sweet berry in her mouth, and carefully sat down on the ledge, lowering her body back down the cliff. She took handhold on the vines, and did not even need look for her footholds, as her bare feet told her where she was safe to step. A few feet from the bottom, she dropped back down into the sand.

“If I were not growing weary already from our swim and my climb, I might just run out of this cove and down the beach, that you could again come after and catch me. But I think that this time I shall walk myself right into the trap.” She made her way toward the warm glow of fire, and the huntsman waiting, and as she approached she undid her belt once more and pulled from herself the satchel of berries. She placed them lightly on the ground, that they might not be crushed, and next threw her arms about the man, seeking a kiss to mingle with the flavor of her sweet blueberries.

[Calon]

“A trap? A trap?” Calon laughed, crossing his arms. “I daresay if I sought to make a trap, you would hardly notice it at all! You’d be ensnared before you had a moment’s time to wonder what was wrong at all!” Beleth, though, kept coming toward him. And Calon was certainly pleased she did. He was even more pleased when she dropped her satchel of berries to the sand and threw her arms about his neck.

“Did you try one?” He asked pleasantly as he locked his arms about her waist. “I do hope they are as sweet as I remember,” he added as he bent to take her lips up with his own. He could taste, still and very faintly, the salt of the bay they had left behind. However, under that, he could taste sweet juice from the berries that Beleth had eaten just moments before.

He pulled away and grinned. “Well, I must say I have not tasted them in some time, but they do seem to be every bit as sweet as I remember!” He lifted a finger to brush away a strand of hair that had fallen into Beleth’s face, blocking his view of her lovely grey eyes. There, he mused. That was better.

“Still, it could very well not have been the blueberries I was tasting at all!” The man declared pleasantly. “Best be sure.” He stooped again and kissed her, this time very much longer.

“Hmm,” he hummed as he finally broke away. “It wasn’t.”

For a while longer he stood, arms clamped around his nightingale comfortably with a cheery gleam in his eye. Though, his days of hard travel, the energy expended swimming for the first time in ages, chasing Beleth against wind and wave all at once caught up with him, and the man was tired. He dropped his arms from around her, though reached one of his brawny hands to hold fast to hers and draw her down with him to sit aside the fire.

“I must say,” he finally offered with a pleasant yawn. “Today has made all of my toil in those stables these past months worth it!” He chuckled, pulling the lady back against his chest and letting out a contented sigh. “I have hardly had time for any hunting, you know! Your brother kept me quite busy about the stables. Even some of the other stable hands quit asking if I should like to go for a drink at the tavern after work—I think it was out of pity Faeldor finally offered me that promotion.” He paused and raised his brow pleasantly as he looked down toward the lady.

“They warned me, you know! They said the House of Faelon was fair, but to even think about speaking to the Stable Master’s sisters was quite dangerous.” He paused and laughed, the sound quiet, though certainly flooded with warmth and joy and humor. “I am quite glad Faeldor scared all of the others away, I suppose. It saved you for me.”

He slowly lowered himself onto the sands to lie down and sprawl out his legs, stretching like a hound rising from the porch. “I do believe your sister shall be brokenhearted though. Which one was it now? Shy…pretty face. Haliel? No,” he paused and wrinkled his brow. “Well, Bel, I suppose I should have paid better attention to your family’s names that day of introductions. There are a lot of them to remember.”

"No. It wasn't Haliel! Haliel is the little blonde one. It was...hmm...Diore?"

[Narbeleth]

“A trap? A trap? I daresay if I sought to make a trap, you would hardly notice it at all! You’d be ensnared before you had a moment’s time to wonder what was wrong at all!”[/i]

“That is what it was... a trap,” Narbeleth mused, biting her lip, and looking accusingly at Calon. “The day you first took me for archery practice. You put your arms about me, and would not relent your touching, in the name of teaching me archery.” Narbeleth laughed, “Well, I pulled that one over on you. I sprung that trap! And shot you in the midst of it.”

It was not long before Narbeleth received her so desired kiss. Her eyes were bright as starlight, and she left them open to study Calon's face for a time as he kissed her and declared the sweetness of the berries. Though the second kiss, she could hardly stand. It seemed to go on and on, and her breath was taken. Her legs felt weak, and her heart flipped within her chest. She was grateful when the man pulled her to the ground to sit beside him, for standing through a kiss as such again would have been impossible. How silly it would have been to collapse under his touch, yet she might have! Her heart yearned for more, in a way she had never known.

“I must say. Today has made all of my toil in those stables these past months worth it! I have hardly had time for any hunting, you know! Your brother kept me quite busy about the stables. Even some of the other stable hands quit asking if I should like to go for a drink at the tavern after work—I think it was out of pity Faeldor finally offered me that promotion.”

Young Narbeleth was still gaining her breath, as the man prattled on. Her head seemed dizzy and she felt weak still as she sat upon the ground. “Nay, it was for your skill and care with the horses. Faeldor may be silly about his sisters, but he is not about his horses. For some reason he can spot a fair horse charmer much easier than he might a sister-charmer. And he told me himself that he trusted you. But a pity that you worked so many hours!

“Though it is to be certain then, that the stags, the boar, and the great bears of the Firien wood have been able to restock themselves since your last visit. There will be plenty for us to hunt upon our return, unless my brother yet again increases your work load. I doubt that he could though. As of tomorrow I shall no longer be his charge, and I will have a thing or two to say from him if he tries to keep my husband from me in that way!”

“I shall not be kept from my husband,” she almost purred, tilting her head askew back against the man as she looked up at him. “I have spent... well... my whole betrothal, waiting for my marriage. And Faeldor shall not spoil it for me,” she giggled lightly.

“They warned me, you know! They said the House of Faelon was fair, but to even think about speaking to the Stable Master’s sisters was quite dangerous. I am quite glad Faeldor scared all of the others away, I suppose. It saved you for me.”

Narbeleth blinked, “Why, there were never others for me, Calon. My sister Miriel is by far the prettier and older, and has had many requests for time spent with her... at least, until they have met her. You said yourself that the men call her a Witch, yet they were still to seek after her! It is surprising what a pretty face might do for someone. I have always been thin and... flat and... well, not as unkempt as I am at this very moment. But Miriel said I always had a wild look about me. I let myself too long in the sunshine, and did not tidy my hair enough for her. Men are not interested in a wild lady... those are too much work and trouble for them. Miriel has done her best to mold me into a lady, but I'm afraid she has failed miserable. I think she is afraid of it as well... She has always looked nice in the right places, though I could never see how a man would see past her tongue.”

Beleth sighed lightly. “No, they were never interested in me. You were the first interested, and I'll admit I had never looked for a man's interest before you. My sister had made it quite clear that I would never be suitable. I did not even have a suitor to take me to the ball. I'm afraid my brother pawned me off on you. I'm certain he regrets that now.”

"I do believe your sister shall be brokenhearted though. Which one was it now? Shy…pretty face. Haliel? No,Well, Bel, I suppose I should have paid better attention to your family’s names that day of introductions. There are a lot of them to remember. No. It wasn't Haliel! Haliel is the little blonde one. It was...hmm...Diore?"

Beleth laughed lightly, not offended in the least. She knew the names were difficult to remember in a large family, and the young ones were always flitting about so... it was difficult to keep them in order. “No, no, dear... Diore is the little blonde one, she that has the Rohirric name. Haliel has the blue eyes, and walks with the limp gait. You came to her birthday party and brought her the little toy. Marileth is the one who has eyes for you. She is tall but will not be thirteen til the spring. I suppose the boys will be turning for her soon, for she is fair of face and kind, yet the quietest perhaps in the house of Faelon. She has learned to hold her tongue after seeing the downfall in which it leads the rest of us.”

“Aside, she should not be too torn. She knows naught of your love for hunting... I'm afraid she loves the little woodland creatures so, that she would neither respect nor enjoy you bringing them home to the dinner table. Poor little bunnies and pheasants, and gracious, how would she handle a stag! I can see how she would look in disgust at our bear rug... though she is a kind little dear, I know she would never mention it to us.”

Still sitting up, Beleth moved for a moment to fetch her satchel of blueberries, and took a small bunch to mouth. “I wonder how many times as a child you climbed that very cliff for these berries.” She looked down at him slyly for a moment before moving to Calon's side once more, pulling the satchel near her, and moving to press the berries to Calon's own lips. “You doubted their sweetness...”

[Calon]

“Nobody was interested before me? Huh,” Calon exclaimed, more than a hint surprised even through his pleasant tone. “You must not have frequented enough, for I know at least two other hands who will be a little jealous that I shall have a wife that will ride, hunt and swim with me, sing and dance, and still be lovely as a mearas!” It was, perhaps, unfathomable to Calon that Narbeleth, the sister of Faeldor’s who was the most vivacious and fun, would have been overlooked by the rest of the men that worked around the stables. Or, indeed, the men that lived around Minas Tirith at all.

He grinned, though, and pulled her more tightly against him. “Still, I cannot say I am glad they did not pursue you. I might have lost my chance at the perfect woman!”

“No, no, dear... Diore is the little blonde one, she that has the Rohirric name. Haliel has the blue eyes, and walks with the limp gait. You came to her birthday party and brought her the little toy. Marileth is the one who has eyes for you. She is tall but will not be thirteen til the spring. I suppose the boys will be turning for her soon, for she is fair of face and kind, yet the quietest perhaps in the house of Faelon. She has learned to hold her tongue after seeing the downfall in which it leads the rest of us.”

Before Beleth had even got halfway through her explanation, Calon was laughing. My, he had made a mess of names! Still, he had been introduced to them nearly all at once—it was hard to tell them all apart by vague nods and waves of hand. “Oh, I have it now,” he mused aloud, turning his face into a mock frown of pensive quality. “Faeldor, then, was the young one with brown hair, of course! And Eoric certainly is your eldest brother. Meleth is your oldest sister, and Miriel is quite lively for being a mother of so many children!”

He then adorned a small pout. “Fond of the forest animals? Why, Bel, I am ever so offended. I am fond of them, too. I like them over fires and dressing my floors and walls!”

He could hardly contain his laughter by then. Perhaps he would learn them all quickly, and perhaps young Marileth would see it in her heart to forgive him of his compulsive need for hunting excursions, venison and boar! “It is best, I see, that we do not have a formal ceremony tomorrow. Certainly I would offend at least one member of your family by my lack of skill with names and faces or perhaps the meal that I would have procured by my bow. My family is quite simple, really. There aren’t that many of us—and we will all answer to the same names anyway.” He smiled even wider. “It used to be that if Mother called for Remlas, we both would come running. And there is not a one of us who doesn’t like a good trip to the wood for some good sport!”

“I wonder how many times as a child you climbed that very cliff for these berries.”

Calon shrugged playfully, and smiled all the wider. “Oh rarely, of course. It was only every other night or so. Mother did forbid us, after all.” He chuckled warmly, recalling for a moment Remlas and he as children, standing before the rocky crags with nothing by determination and hope. Fearless! “We vowed to never tell her, you know. But Remlas fell once, almost broke his leg.” Calon sighed as if sad. “Couldn’t avoid telling her after that. But Remlas couldn’t be kept down for long! As soon as he was healed we were back at it again. And running wild through the trees!” He twisted and pressed a kiss to her forehead, smiling against her skin.

“Which reminds me, if you ever hear the neighbors here speak of the feral children of the forest, do know that it is just a rumor. We have both matured and started jobs by now!”

“You doubted their sweetness...”

Calon took the berry into his mouth and chewed, making a face of exaggerated consideration as he rolled the fruit from one side of his mouth to the other before finally swallowing.

“Yes, I did,” he agreed. “And for good reason! These are not that sweet at all! In fact…” He leaned over and pressed his lips to hers again, this time with a bit more passion behind his motives then he had previously allowed himself. It lasted long, and it was certainly the deepest of the ones they had shared. “I do think I have found something better than those berries!”

[Narbeleth]

“Nobody was interested before me? Huh. You must not have frequented enough, for I know at least two other hands who will be a little jealous that I shall have a wife that will ride, hunt and swim with me, sing and dance, and still be lovely as a mearas!”[/i]

“Two others!” Narbeleth exclaimed. “Why I never knew. Be sure to keep an eye on those for my sake, for I should not wish another man to look upon me again in my life. Never again. Unless they be looking at me for the sake that I have helped them to save their prize winning chicken from a dangerous fate,” she prattled on, bemusedly. “If they look upon me, they shall bear the wrath of the greatest Huntsman in all of Arda looking upon them. And they should not wish for that, for his look would be as fierce as the broad head arrows with which he knocks his bow.”

Calon laughed and amused himself by creating in grand detail a deliberately mistaken account of her family. Narbeleth laughed aloud as she pictured her family members with switched roles. It certainly would never fit as such! Surely, it would not be long and Calon would have them all down by name and face, but such was always a joke among her family as it had expanded. She mused, perhaps it was not completely filled yet. Mother might very well bring more children into the home, as others grew and moved on. Mother would never manage an empty household.

“Oh rarely, of course. It was only every other night or so. Mother did forbid us, after all. We vowed to never tell her, you know. But Remlas fell once, almost broke his leg. Couldn’t avoid telling her after that. But Remlas couldn’t be kept down for long! As soon as he was healed we were back at it again. And running wild through the trees!”

“Oh, poor Remlas,” Beleth mused lightly giggling. “How desperate he must have been to be down for those days. You his little brother certainly only made matters worse, as he was bedridden and you were about the forests and cliffs on your own, I am sure.”

“Which reminds me, if you ever hear the neighbors here speak of the feral children of the forest, do know that it is just a rumor. We have both matured and started jobs by now!”

“Feral children... you? I see no child affront of me. Only a grown man. A man brave and strong. Perhaps had someone mentioned a fierce and undomesticated man, I would believe them, but a child... no... not this man.” Narbeleth smiled, her fingers skimming lightly over Calon's skin, glad that she had turned his shirt into a bag. “A wild man of the forest I have in front of me. A great huntsman.”

Narbeleth's berry was taken in full and closely examined then by the huntsman. Certainly one who had been a feral child would know how to test a berry properly, and it seemed that Calon did!

“Yes, I did. And for good reason! These are not that sweet at all! In fact…”

Narbeleth knew what was coming, for their light banter was continuing as it had throughout the whole evening. Though she did not predict the intensity of it! She was taken up yet again, but this time, Calon did not relent! No, she was drawn into the bliss of the moment, and her thoughts failed her completely as she allowed pleasure to overcome her. She hardly heard his voice as he spoke again, such was the sound of her beating heart within her chest.

“I do think I have found something better than those berries!”

He was so smug. “Cal...” Beleth managed, breathlessly, allowing her hand to trace over Calon's chest. She took a deep breath, leaning down and for a moment resting her head over the man's heart. Steady beating.

“You shall make me faint,” she said shortly, catching her breath. “I shall not make it to the end of eternity in this experiment I am afraid, for I shall be lost long before.” She closed her eyes, momentarily, listening to his heart. How it remained so steady within his warm chest.

Suddenly, she opened her eyes and was bright once more, sitting up slightly to look at her huntsman. “Do that again,” she stated, bluntly. “Though, don't let up so quick, if you will,” she teased, soft hands caressing his torso. She bit her lip slightly, looking to his own, and leaned down to him once more, pressing herself firmly against the warm body, and slipping her hand about the back of his neck.

[Calon]

“Oh, they will never look upon you now!” Calon declared pleasantly. “They know me well enough to fear incurring my wrath. I have proven myself the hardiest competitor in feats of strength, you see. It is a tavern game to wrestle and flex your strength.” He grinned lopsidedly. “They would not wish to test their luck should they look upon my wife!”

After their kiss, the way Beleth lost her breath fueled the man’s sudden surge in his feeling of masculinity. And, when he pulled away finally and saw her so disarrayed and gleeful, he could not keep the smug smirk from coming to his face. “You shall make me faint.” Calon’s smile widened. “Shall I?” He hummed in reply, letting his fingers trail through her long, dark hair with feigned apathy. “It does sound quite terrible,” he drawled. His eyes glinted.

“Do that again. Though, don't let up so quick, if you will.”

Calon snapped his eyes back to hers, and gladly allowed the woman to readjust her hold upon him and press herself against him all the more tightly. “Let up so quick? Oh, Bel,” he dropped his voice low and let one of his arms snake about her waist and hold her tight, and the other hand bury itself in her hair. “You won’t have to worry about that.” And then, the man once more took her lips.

He pressed them against hers with passion this time, taking special care to deepen it in every way the man could think of. One hand nearly clung to her dark locks, his other hand tried to find ways to pull her closer. His lips were eager, and he parted them to draw her breath further. Calon rolled, pressing her down into the sand and sliding his hand up her side to brush her cheek. Still he did not stop.

He could feel her fluttering heart, tell that she had lost her breath. But he was thirsty, and his Beleth was the only drink he desired. Finally, though, he quenched himself. It felt a pity to remove his lips from hers, but even as he pulled away and smiled down upon her, he knew that it was not in vain. He could now see the lovely whirl of emotion he had felt in her all the more clearly. “Now, do tell me,” he whispered as he came back in close and took her lips one more time, this time light and quick. “Was that still soon? Or should, perhaps, it last more like this…?”

Then again, the huntsman swooped in. This time, the man did not stop until he felt the burning in his lungs for air too. He was breathing heavy through his easy smile. “I would hate, after all, to have you think me too fast for your liking.”