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 Jul 19, 2012 10:02:38 GMT -5
"The cookies are done?!" Diore chirped in her little voice, sprinting after Gilwen. Nothing would keep her in the sitting room while the woman went to check on the cookies. She loved cookies... and her stomach was rumbling and hungry as well. She would have run for any kind of food at this point.
The rest of the children followed as well, albeit a bit more slowly as Haliel could only walk a certain speed, and Marileth held Eoric's hand. All of them were hungry, the midday snack time having passed, it was closing on supper time at this point.
"Oh..." Marileth said as she came into the kitchen and noticed Gilwen looking down at the tray of slightly darkened cookies. "The oven must have been a bit too hot..." She frowned. "We better take them off the tray before they stick," she said, coming forth with a spatula. She poked lightly at the cookies, but they appeared to be stuck well! The excess sugar in the dough made them become like a hardened glue on the pan.
Haliel peered over the edge of the pan as well. Even at the age of eight, the little girl could tell a burned cookie when she saw one. "I guess... I guess you probably don't cook much, do you Gilwen?" she asked, a bit disappointed. She was not attempting to be rude, but children are well known to state the obvious, especially in disappointment.
"Well they still look edible if we can get them off the tray," Marileth offered, giving Gilwen a sweet smile. "Hold the tray tight with those cloths and I'll scrape them." The young girl was determined to salvage the cookies. They weren't black... just... a bit tough.
"Oh boy! What's that smell?" a louder voice asked from down the hallway as the sound of the shutting door in the entryway rang through the house. "I'm starving! Mama, is supper ready? We've been working hard today!" Faelon exclaimed. The boy burst down the hall toward the kitchen. "Oh, it's you, Gilwen. I mean... I didn't mean to call you 'Mama'. I was looking for Mother... I... uh..." He was slightly embarrassed with himself as he went to the washbasin to take care of his hands.
The commotion caused the younger children to run to the doorway.
"Brothers home," Eoric smiled, and Diore shot down the hallway, passing Faelon to go to her favorite sibling, Faeldor. "Fael! We made cookies! I helped mix!" Diore did not yet understand the state of the cookies, so she rejoiced that her brother would be able to share.
"You did!" Faeldor laughed. "Well that is wonderful. They shall be a perfect dessert. Are you being a good girl, and helping Mother make supper?" he asked, also assuming that Meleth was the one running the kitchen at the moment.
"No, we made cookies for supper!" Diore stated happily.
"Oh..." Faeldor smiled, though he was confused. Diore must be so exuberant about the cookies that she had not noticed the supper preparations.
The Stablemaster finally made his way to the kitchen an smiled in surprise. He had expected to see his Mother cooking up a storm as usual, but instead it was his pretty Gilwen. She looked quite lovely in one of the pretty day dresses Meleth had made for her with an apron about her slender waist and a pretty ring hanging from a chain about her neck.
"Well, hello there, Sweet," the man's voice was deep and pleased to see his Gilwen. "You must be feeling well today to be working in the kitchen... and watching the children?" Faeldor became a trifle concerned, noticing now that his mother was not about, nor Grandmother or Miriel either.
"Mama and Grandmother are helping with a delivery," Marileth answered. "Miriel is not feeling well, and Grandfather is in the study reading. Gilwen has been looking after us. We did some baking," she motioned to the tray that she was working on. "The cookies are a little stuck... you are much stronger, perhaps you should try and get them off."
"I'll see what I can do," Faeldor smiled, glancing across the room at the tray of dark brown blobs. His eyes widened slightly and he looked to Gilwen but didn't say anything. A brief survey of the kitchen showed that supper had not yet been started.
"Wash up, Fael," Haliel said sweetly, mimicking her mother and older sisters who would tell him the exact same thing each day when he made his way to the kitchen after working.
"Ah! You reminded me. I almost forgot," he looked to Haliel and planted a kiss atop her head as he walked passed her to the wash basin. The man first removed his dusty tunic and sat it atop the stool, then washed his hands. Once he was finished he pulled up his shirt sleeves.
"Mari, perhaps we should start supper. Mother and Grandmother will be hungry when they return... ah..." he was looking at the tray of cookies. "Here, I'll take that spatula."
Faelon stood, looking forlorn.
"Mari, take that bushel to the cellar and bring up some... potatoes, carrots, celery, onions and squash... and whatever else would be good in a stew..." he contemplated. The cellar was absolutely bursting this time of year as the harvest was recent. Diore, go hold the door open for your sister. Hali, find the big pot and cutting board. Faelon, go fill the buckets at the pump and then fill that pot once your sister finds it." With one instruction for each child, all four of them bolted to complete their task. There was no questioning, arguing, or goofing about when Faeldor gave them an assignment.
Faeldor smiled then at Gilwen and offered her a light kiss on the cheek. "You've been too busy today, I believe. Miriel should have been helping you with the children..." he frowned. "Why not take Eoric to gardens and sit and rest for a bit while we finish the supper?" he offered. His stomach rumbled as a punctuation. He looked down at the tray of cookies as he managed to free one, and put it in his mouth. "This is just what I need," he said, hopefully convincing, as he took a bite. It was hard as a rock. His hand flew to his jaw for a moment, before he smiled again. "They are very sweet. If I were to guess you let Diore add the sugar."
"Me too," Eoric looked up to his tall brother. Faeldor looked at the tray and attempted to scrape another cookie off. It broke in two as he did so and he handed the pieces to Eoric.
"Suck on it like candy, don't try to bite it," he offered to the little boy.
"That's wonderful!
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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 Jul 22, 2012 19:34:59 GMT -5
Marileth tried to make it better, but Gilwen was not a fool—she could see the cookies were nothing like the ones Meleth had served to the Steward. Panic set in; the children were hungry, and the cookies were ruined. She would have to get rid of everything. And the ingredients were expensive! Gilwen choked back a groan of frustration and despair; baking had met her with failure.
"I guess... I guess you probably don't cook much, do you Gilwen?"
Gilwen’s sadness instantly swelled, and the young woman looked down to Haliel and tried to force an even expression to her face. “I…I…” She stilled her words, letting Marileth take over the speaking for fear of breaking into tears.
Yes, she needed to get them off the tray. She needed to get them off the tray and get rid of them before anyone saw her travesty. Still, it seemed the Valar was against such luck; Faeldor and Faelon came home—and the young boy was not shy in announcing their arrival. Gilwen bit her lip, barely hearing Faelon address her at all.
"Oh, it's you, Gilwen. I mean... I didn't mean to call you 'Mama'. I was looking for Mother... I... uh..."
“It is all right, Faelon,” Gilwen murmured quietly. “I…I…” Well, she had tried to make cookies. She could not rightly tell the boy that though, he probably would not understand.
She struggled with the cookies a moment longer, trying her best to rid the evidence before Faeldor made it to the kitchen. But she was too late.
"You must be feeling well today to be working in the kitchen... and watching the children?"
“Welcome home, Fael,” Gilwen murmured, deciding to forego answering the question. She did not wish the children to think that they had been a bother or nuisance. If she had been feeling herself, she would have fared much better.
“I…” She looked to the cookies forlornly, and her glum expression darkened even more as Faeldor bit into one of the cookies. Or tried. It did seem he could not quite do so.
"You've been too busy today, I believe. Miriel should have been helping you with the children... Why not take Eoric to gardens and sit and rest for a bit while we finish the supper?"
“She was not feeling well,” Gilwen offered quietly. She scooped Eoric up into her arms and lingered to see Faeldor hand Eoric the pieces of cookie. She was embarrassed, flustered.
She nuzzled the little boy’s cheek with her own and added thoughtfully, “You don’t need to eat it if you don’t like it.”
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Faeldor
Man
Head Stablemaster
Do we walk in legends or on the green earth in the daylight?[Mo0:1]
Posts: 556
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Post by Faeldor on Aug 8, 2012 10:40:02 GMT -5
It was true, Miriel had been feeling quite unwell these past months. He couldn't blame her... well... he could blame her. But he couldn't blame the poor child she was carrying. It was best that she rest when she was not feeling well for the sake of the baby. Miriel would have her work cut out for her once the little one was here, it was certain.
Faeldor glanced at Gilwen as she took the little boy up in her arms.
“You don’t need to eat it if you don’t like it.”
Eoric smiled and sucked on the cookie. It was sweet, and he did like it, and he was hungry! It was simply hard, and he took the incentive to not try and bite it. He knew better than to bite hard things... for he had hurt his teeth before.
"I...ah... have some good news for you," Faeldor started, before the obviouly embarrased Gilwen took her leave. "It was going to be a surprise. I was on an errand outside the city this morning and saw someone familiar on my way out... Your mother is coming for supper tonight. I told her I would go back down to fetch her when I finished work... I suppose I'll get the stew on and then have Mari watch it. She knows what to do. If you could just keep an eye on Eoric, while I go. I'll take the little girls with me. I know they are a handful."
Faeldor smiled, scraping at the cookie tray some more as he waited for the children to bring to return with the water and food. When he was satisfied with the scraping job, he moved about to some cupboards on the far end of the room and opened them. On the top shelf was a variety of baked goods that Meleth had made several days ago during her weekly baking... fruited breads, rolls, cookies. He pulled down a basket of rolls and also a plate of cookies to go with the meal.
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Gilwen
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There are times when silence has the loudest voice.[Mo0:0]
Posts: 593
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Post by Gilwen on Jan 12, 2013 3:15:49 GMT -5
Perhaps Gilwen had intended to pass out of the room quietly and without further event, taking little Eoric to play upon the floor of the sitting room whilst she rested upon the sofa and kept a watchful eye upon him. She wanted to be far from the kitchen, and the disgraceful mess she had made of the cookies. But Faeldor stilled her with seven simple words.
“Your mother is coming for supper tonight.”
Gilwen turned, mouth opened in surprise, perhaps even a hint of disbelief. “W-what?” She was not sure she had heard the stable master correctly—but he had spoken clear and loud. Her mother. Her mother was coming to dinner. “She…she is coming here? Tonight?”
Any depression the woman had suffered at her maimed cookies instantly evaporated into a tempest of warring emotions. It had been weeks since she had seen her family—not since her own father cast her onto the streets. Gilwen had lived now with Faeldor and his family for some time, and while she had not spoken of her grief and pained heart to any, there were times when she sat in the quiet upon her bed before sleep and longed to see her family. Sometimes, she even wept. Tonight; her mother was coming tonight.
And yet, Gilwen could not find it in her to be truly happy and joyous. A part of her curdled in anger, in betrayal. All of this time she had been there, longing and pining for the warmth of the family she used to have, of her small little home upon the third tier and the happy times and memories that lingered there still, and not a single word or whisper had come from Niniel or Beregar. And that stung more than anything else.
Gilwen fell silent, and turned her face away to hide the warring flashes of emotion that swept over her features and the beginnings of tears in her eyes. The children did not need to see how broken she felt, and neither for that matter did Faeldor. He had invited Niniel for Gilwen’s own happiness, and she did not wish to bother him with her slight reluctance.
“Then, I best rest. She will certainly ask many questions,” she added as evenly as possible. Her knees felt shaky and weak, and while the woman had certainly begun to mend and regain her former strength, it was certainly nowhere near normal yet. And what with the baking, the child tending and now the sudden flood of hot and fierce emotions, Gilwen was tired. Perhaps she would not move from the sofa until her mother arrived.
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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 Jan 14, 2013 14:11:37 GMT -5
“W-what? She…she is coming here? Tonight?”
"Well yes, I think that is what I said," Faeldor stated again, looking toward the woman in the doorway. "I told her I would come down to fetch her when I returned from the stables. That is why we must get the supper preparations!" he added joyfully as the the Marileth returned with a bushel of vegetables, and began to sort them upon the counter. Diore trailed behind, eating an apple which she had snagged from the cellar. Faeldor noticed, but allowed her to eat it, as she was likely hungry and there would be a bit more time before supper. At least the time it took to walk to the bottom of the city and back.
“Then, I best rest. She will certainly ask many questions.”
"She certainly will have questions to ask, and things to speak of with you. But... I did warn her that you are not quite back to yourself yet. I know she will not expect you to stay up all night... but I just thought... it best. That we put it off no longer. I know your father does not want to come here, but your mother did seem glad for the invitation. I regret not asking her sooner."
It was the truth that Faeldor had not asked Niniel to visit sooner... though he had stopped by the small cove on the first tier on almost every occasion that he was traveling past. The issue had become that almost certainly the person who was to open the door for him was not Niniel herself, or if she did happen to the door, she was often hovered over by her husband, who detested Faeldor and his family. The man was not entirely sure how he had gotten Niniel's agreement on this trip, but Gilwen's father had not seemed to be present when he stopped. At least, he had not shown himself. Faeldor had it in his mind that Niniel likely would have come by any day if it had not been forbidden of her. Though, he had no idea. He had only spoken with the woman for a moment and thus most of the things in his mind were imaginations that could really only be explained by Niniel herself. He knew not if Beregar would be present when he stopped to fetch Niniel from her home, or if he would make the situation difficult for them. Perhaps he was out for the day? It was entirely possible that he had found work somewhere. This time of year the farms that had not come to damage by foes would often hire extra hands for a few days to bring in the harvest. Faeldor hoped that is what it was... that is... he hoped Beregar was still gone when he approached the first tier home, and he hoped that it was for good reason; work, or family. He didn't want anything dreadful to happen to the man... but he did not want to disappoint Gilwen now that he had told her what was to happen.
"We get to go with you to fetch Gilwen's mama?" Haliel asked sweetly as she overheard the conversation while she rummaged through the cupboard for the aforementioned pot, handing it to her brother who was returning with buckets and ready to take it outside. "Perhaps there are some asters blooming in the stones outside the house still. Gilwen, does your Mama like asters? I shall go pick some for her."
"That would be kind of you, Hali," Faeldor smiled. "You go do that while we get the stew on." It was true Haliel would be no help in readying the vegetables. A girl her age would usually be able to chop, but her delicate and unsteady hands just could not be trusted with a knife, so she may as well feel herself busy outdoors while Marileth, Faelon, and Faeldor quickly added to the stewpot. Diore climbed on a stool nearby to watch and the work was finished quickly, and Faeldor moved the stew upon the big stove.
"Now, I think Diore and Haliel shall come with me," Faeldor said, looking to the littlest girl. She shouted in excitement at that statement. "Mari, would you mind watching the stew, and getting the dinnerware ready? Faelon, please clean up the peelings and then clean yourself. You need to put on a clean shirt," he instructed. "Now... I need to wash up as well, and we'll make a quick exit."
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Gilwen
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There are times when silence has the loudest voice.[Mo0:0]
Posts: 593
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Post by Gilwen on Jan 14, 2013 19:56:09 GMT -5
“I regret not asking her sooner.”
Gilwen shifted Eoric in her arms and offered him a small smile. “You’ve had much to do, Fael. And for a while, I was in no shape to see her.” No, she was still not fully well. Though, Meleth had certainly taken it upon herself to make sure Gilwen gained back the weight she had lost, it was slow in coming. She was still rather thin, with a perpetual exhaustion in her eyes and on her face. Likely, her mother would have a fit when she walked in and saw her. Perhaps, Gilwen thought momentarily, I should fix my hair.
At least then she would not look a whole mess.
“Gilwen, does your Mama like asters? I shall go pick some for her."
“I’m sure she does,” the woman replied. “My mother has always been fond of flowers.”
Faeldor took over the kitchen from there, and so the woman finally took her leave, hearing the sounds of Faeldor’s instructions and the children’s ready compliance echo after her. The sitting room was empty when she walked in, and so she took no hesitation claiming a seat upon the sofa. It felt nice to sit.
She breathed a long sigh, and then looked down to smile at Eoric. “There now, you can play.” She set him on the floor, and handed him the carved wooden horse Faeldor had whittled for him.
Faeldor worked and labored all day in the stables, came home in smiles and readily entertained all of his siblings in turn. And, somehow, he found time to carve toys, give baths, and sit with her. Tonight, he was going to trek all the way down to the first tier to fetch her mother, and bring her all the way back to return her safely. It should have been simple for her to relieve him of cooking, but even that had fallen upon Meleth’s oldest son this evening.
She did not understand how the man did it, but there upon the plush cushion of the sofa, she was thankful he could.
--
“Aunt Niniel,” Verya said, coming to stand in the doorway of the bedroom. Niniel turned, and immediately smiled and crossed to her. “I thought maybe Gilwen would like them. Would you take these to her when you go?” She held in her hand a worn doll, one that she had tucked away when Beregar had exploded in anger. She did not know much about Gilwen, having only spent a few weeks in her company, but she knew the woman was fond of her family. She knew that it had hurt her more deeply than any physical wound could have when her father sent her out of the house.
This doll, perhaps, could remember her the finer things. Times she and her family were sound. Maybe even give her hope they could be once again.
“Anna,” Niniel smiled, taking the doll tenderly into her hands. “I most certainly will.” The woman turned and placed it beside her cloak, lest she forget to bring it.
Niniel’s shyest niece turned and left, leaving the woman alone to think and fret. Faeldor had said she would not be herself. Was she still ill? Was she angry? Nervous fingers worked with her hair, trying to work her hair to be presentable. This was the first time she had ever been asked to dine with a well-to-do family, and while she knew Faeldor and Meleth certainly would not judge her for her stature—they loved Gilwen as proof enough—she somehow felt the need to make herself as nice as possible.
She had not wanted to send Gilwen away, and she would have willingly sought out Faeldor to learn of her if Beregar had not been so cross over the matter. Merilla was doing no favors, either. She was the one who brought home word that Gilwen was with Faeldor on the fourth tier, and Beregar had been furious.
“Well where did he expect her to go?” Niniel grumbled under her breath, snorting loudly through her nose in agitation. Thankfully, he was not home this particular night. He and his brother had found a temporary job lifting the farmer’s crops onto the wagons. She would be gone before he even got home.
Merilla, though, and her mother were still there. Sitting and whispering in the sitting room. The house was small, and Niniel could hear absolutely every single word that passed from their mouths. Her lip curled downward in a frown. Those two had overstayed their welcome.
Hopefully nothing would come from them tonight. And she mused that even if they spoke to Faeldor in a rude or sharp manner, Niniel’s frustrations would be cast aside the minute she could hold her daughter again.
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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 Jan 14, 2013 21:03:24 GMT -5
It was not long before the trio had set out down the cobbled streets to collect Niniel from her home. They did appear slightly different from the usual... a large man walking with two small girls; one of which bore a cane and limped along, dragging the foot of her poor side over the stone. The other little girl would have fit in just fine among the residents of Minas Tirith if it were not for her pale, blonde hair, which stood out amongst the dark haired residents. She skipped and hopped along beside Faeldor. Both the girls and the man took turns singing songs and reciting verses, solo as well as together, as they made their way through the city.
In Faeldor's mind, it was refreshing to see such energy and spirit in the children. When times were growing more difficult and Minas Tirith was growing more dark, the bright little children were a sight for sore eyes.
"Come," said the Wind to the Leaves one day. "Come over the meadow and we will play. Put on your dresses of red and gold. For summer is gone and the days grow cold."
Haliel finished her joyous recitation from Faeldor's arms, as she had grown tired of walking not far into the journey. Diore was still skipping along aside, boundless energy, dragging Haliel's cane along in one hand. Faeldor's arms were getting admittedly tired after a full days work, but Haliel had learned to hold on well and assist whoever was carrying her as much as possible, so it was not causing him too much difficulty. Aside, she had always been very small for her age. Closer to the size of perhaps a six year old than the big eight year old girl she had become.
“I am wearing a red dress, and you should wear a gold dress to sing that. Fael, can we go play out on the fields soon, like the Wind and the Leaves in the song?” Diore asked excitedly.
“Perhaps we can take one trip to the meadow again soon...” Faeldor mused... perhaps the little ones could go just outside the city walls. No further would he risk taking all of them though, for it was becoming more and more dangerous away from the city. Daylight had not served to be a problem for the Gondorians at this point, but one would not wish to travel too near nightfall anymore.
“You are going to scratch my cane,” Haliel pouted.
“Diore, please carry it upright. The cane will do no good if it splinters, and Grandfather made that for Hali. She loves it very much.”
“Grandfather made me a whistle,” Diore pointed out as she looked up at Faeldor. She was used to walking long distances before she had come to the house of Meleth, and did surprisingly well through the city streets, learning quickly that it could not be helped that Haliel must often be carried on excursions, and she must walk beside.
“I don't remember a whistle,” Faeldor thought a loud.
“He did not make you a whistle,” Haliel corrected.
“Yes he did!” Diore protested.
“He taught you to whistle. Like this,” Haliel whistled a short tune.
“Yes, he made me a whistle...” Diore repeated, puckering her lips to make a few little sounds come forth.
Faeldor laughed. “And here it is. The house of Niniel,” he pointed the children to the little door. The girls had been through the city before, especially Haliel, and she looked in a slight bit of awe at the door.
“How come there are so many front doors?” Haliel asked.
“So many doors?” Faeldor asked confusedly, looking at the one door in front of him.
“Yes, there is one there, and there, and there, and there...” Haliel looked on and pointed at each consecutive door down the street.
“Ah...” Faeldor reasoned that the little girl thought Niniel's house must be made up of all the houses along the street. They were all connected, with very few holding an alley between, and very narrow. “No, just this door leads into her house. Those doors lead into other homes. It was true the child had lived quite a sheltered life, and was not accustomed to the poverty of the first tier. He hoped that she would not make much of an issue to point out her “observations” in front of Niniel. “We shall speak on it later, but now let us find Gilwen's Mama.”
“I will knock!” the sprightly blonde child announced as she ran toward the door and pounded her little fist upon it. “Gilwen's Mama!” she called into the door frame. It was not the most gracious of manners. Faeldor moved to place Haliel back on the ground, and help her situate with her cane, slightly nervous. He had not expected to need to bring the children with him and prayed to Eru that Beregar would not be the one to answer the door and send him away as he had done in the past. The children would not understand at their tender ages, and it was not something he wished them to see. It was, afterall, hardly his fault that Beregar disliked him. Things had come to happen in a way that Faeldor felt responsible for... though at the same time it was nothing that had been intended or thought of.
“You can be the Wind, because you are wearing blue like the sky, and I will be the leaves because I am in red. This is how we will play,” Diore stated to Haliel, not patient enough to simply wait for the door as she bounced about Faeldor.
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Gilwen
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There are times when silence has the loudest voice.[Mo0:0]
Posts: 593
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Post by Gilwen on Jan 14, 2013 21:30:10 GMT -5
It was a welcome sound to Niniel, the light rap at the door. She turned and began to make her way to answer when a small voice called through.
“Gilwen's Mama!”
For a moment, Niniel fell still. She had been expected a grown man to greet her, and to hear a child certainly took her by surprise. Still, she regained herself and shot for the door, narrowly grasping the knob before Merilla could. Still, the older of her nieces lingered over her shoulder, eyes a bit too eager.
She flung open the door, bringing a bright smile to her face. “Faeldor!” She greeted. Then the woman smiled down to Haliel; she remembered this sister. She had come with Beleth during a storm some time ago. “Haliel, it is good to see you again.” The blonde girl, though, Niniel did not recognize. Still, it only took Niniel a few moments to see the girl was brimming with energy, and probably the one her sprightly summons had come from. “And it is always a pleasure to meet someone new,” she offered the girl a rather warm greeting of her own, though Niniel doubted the girl was paying her any mind. She was bounding about.
She took a deep breath for resolve and straightened her skirts, much like Gilwen had done with Faeldor countless times. “Beregar isn’t in tonight,” she added, eyes knowingly marking Faeldor. She could tell he was at least somewhat wary. Truly, he had reason to be. Though, she thought as she glanced over her shoulder, perhaps it was Merilla’s unwavering attention and impish smirk that set him off. “We best not wait here any longer,” she chirped. “I need to see her—oh!” Niniel interrupted herself, for a moment turning back toward her house. “I am sorry, give me just a moment. I have forgotten something. Then we can be off!” In a sudden burst of movement, the woman twirled from the door and vanished into her bedroom.
Merilla eyed the blonde child now, marking her age with careful consideration before casting her eye back to Faeldor himself. It certainly was not hidden that she thought the child to be his. However, before the girl had any chance to open her mouth and say a single word in question, Niniel bolted back to the door Gilwen’s old doll in hand.
“There,” she declared happily, almost shoving Merilla back toward Gilwen’s old room. “I couldn’t forget this.”
“Do tell Gilwen hello for me,” Verya called warmly. “I do miss her.”
“Oh, yes,” Merilla added, her tone not nearly as kind and rather mocking. “Make sure she knows how much we do.”
Niniel’s face hardened for a moment before she stepped out of her home and shut the door behind her. There. All of her problems were hidden—at least for the time being.
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Faeldor
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Head Stablemaster
Do we walk in legends or on the green earth in the daylight?[Mo0:1]
Posts: 556
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Post by Faeldor on Jan 15, 2013 12:10:03 GMT -5
“Faeldor!” “Haliel, it is good to see you again.”
Faeldor smiled. Niniel looked a bit anxious, but who wouldn't... he glanced to the side where it appeared a younger woman was studying him. One of Gilwen's cousins, he assumed... though he wasn't sure which was which, and Gilwen talked so rarely of her family. He hadn't pressed her. It was a difficult subject at the moment.
“And it is always a pleasure to meet someone new.”
Diore stopped hopping and looked up at the woman, hiding slightly behind Faeldor's legs. "She's talking to me," she giggled, big brown eyes studying the new face, as well as peeking behind her to Merilla. The young woman had a foul look on her face and Diore wrinkled her nose at her.
“Beregar isn’t in tonight. We best not wait here any longer. I need to see her—oh!”
A sigh of relief. No Beregar. Faeldor felt himself loosen slightly, though soon enough Niniel had shot away from the door, and Faeldor was face to face with Merilla. He looked at her. She appeared to be looking back and forth between him and Diore. Probably wishing for an explanation. Faeldor managed a weak smile, and patted the little girl on the head. He needed give no explanation to her. That must be the cruder of the cousins. Gilwen hadn't rightly said so, but it seemed that one of them was not the best mannered.
He heard another female voice from the house, another young woman. The other cousin, it must be. “Do tell Gilwen hello for me. I do miss her.”
Niniel had made no response, neither to the other cousin who had also voiced an opinion as well... though it appeared to be sarcastic. The older woman shot out the door and shut it behind her. She appeared relieved.
Faeldor opened his mouth, starting to speak, but Diore cut in first. "I'm Diore. Faeldor named me. Is that Gilwen's dolly? Mama made me a dolly and she is sitting on our bed right now. I had to tuck her in so she wouldn't follow me out to the street. She likes to get in the mud and it dirties her dress so, and then Mama has to wash it."
"I picked you some flowers," Haliel said, aside, gaining some of the courage to speak. Niniel had looked at her warmly when she greeted her, but the other woman inside the house had scared her. She looked back at the closed door, glad the other young woman was not coming with her. She had dark hair, and was pretty like her older sisters... but she looked mean. The way Miriel looked when she was angry, though perhaps worse. Haliel looked back at Niniel, holding out the asters to her.
"I didn't know Gilwen had a Mama. I thought she was like me and had a dead Mama, and my new Mama da-dopted her like she da-dopted me and Eoric."
"Adopted," Faeldor corrected gently.
"Why does Gilwen live with us if she still has a Mama?"
"Because..." Faeldor flushed slightly. He had no idea how to explain anything in a way that the little child could understand. "She... well, she needed a place to stay. So it is like our Mama adopted her, but it is not exactly that way. She is an adult, and adults do not need be adopted." He looked to Niniel and shrugged. There was not much to say.
"Mother has a heart for little children, and Diore and her brother have been with us for a little while," he tried to explain, without referencing how they had been found, for fear that Diore would become distraught. He moved to pick up Haliel, and little Diore offered to take the cane once more. And bigger children too, it seemed... as Meleth had never once complained about the extra work that Gilwen had required in the early days of her stay. Frustrated she had been, yes, but more frustrated that the girl would not mend.
"She might come too... perhaps another time," Faeldor nodded toward the house, referring to the cousin who had spoken more kindly. "Come now. Gilwen will be looking forward to your visit, and I left her watching little Eoric. Mother had an emergency today, and I'm afraid Gilwen had the pleasure of watching all the children. I know it tired her. She looks very tired these days. Morning would truly have been the best time to see her... but... understand, she is much improved. She is feeling much better now than before. She was very unwell for a time, and she does not remember a lot of it, so there is not much to ask her of it," he hinted, hoping Niniel would not pry there and delve up again some of Gilwens fears. The dark, cold, alone-ness.
"Mama is trying to fatten her up," Diore giggled. "Like she fattened me up when I came to her. Look at my belly," Diore giggled, breathing in deep to make her little stomach poke out. "And look how fat my arm is!" she announced, pulling up the edge of her cloak and shirt sleeve to show Niniel her arm. It looked no different than the average child's arm, but it was true she had gained some much needed flesh since beginning to eat a proper diet in the home of Meleth.
"Come now, Diore," Faeldor announced. It was a pity he could not properly offer Niniel his arm in escort to his home, but he must carry Haliel, for he was certain the little girl would tire quickly in walking uphill, and he need not lead her to break down and cry in front of a guest as she was prone to do when she felt inadequate.
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Gilwen
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There are times when silence has the loudest voice.[Mo0:0]
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Post by Gilwen on Jan 15, 2013 13:41:49 GMT -5
Faeldor was relieved that Beregar was not present, and the woman did not blame him in the slightest. It did sadden her, though. This was the man her only daughter had given her heart to, and he was not even comfortable to feel welcome in their home.
Diore introduced herself readily with the same energy Niniel had spied in her earlier, and before she could so much as tell the child it was a pleasure to see her, Diore had inquired about the doll and prattled on about her own.
“Well, Diore,” Niniel finally offered with a smile. “It is good to meet you. And yes—this was Gilwen’s…we thought she might like it.” She did not specify who, precisely, “we” had been, but Faeldor probably understood it was not her husband.
"I picked you some flowers."
This little statement, and of course the lovely petals and Haliel’s evident thoughtfulness, brought Niniel a bit more confidence, and shed her some of her worry and regret. “My, and they are pretty! I have not gotten flowers in quite some time—thank you!” She took them into her free hand, and held them delicately. “Perhaps I will put them on our counter when I get home.”
"I didn't know Gilwen had a Mama. I thought she was like me and had a dead Mama, and my new Mama da-dopted her like she da-dopted me and Eoric."
"Adopted," Faeldor corrected gently.
"Why does Gilwen live with us if she still has a Mama?"
Whatever joy and ease had begun to stretch over Niniel, immediately and thoroughly dissipated as if she had been trampled by a herd of horses. She lost her breath, and dropped both Anna and her little bouquet of asters to the street. Immediately her hands trembling flew to gather the doll and the little blossoms. She was devastated; Gilwen should not have been living with them. She should have been living with her. So completely horrified and ashamed and saddened was she by this, that not even a single tear came to her eyes. However, there was no denying how much she felt tortured by it. Even once she had regained her things into her hands, she clung too tightly to Anna and nearly snapped a few stems of the asters trying to keep the pain in her heart from breaking free.
Faeldor would certainly look to her as he would try to explain, and Niniel made certain he could not see her face. She did not want to look upon him—she felt unfit, and perhaps if she had not wanted to see Gilwen so badly would have decided that Faeldor’s house was far better for her daughter and she should turn away right there and save them both the grief that was sure to come.
Faeldor though spoke in answer, and not even in the slightest did he condemn her. But in her heart, Niniel felt she deserved it. "She might come too... perhaps another time."
For a moment it took a moment for the lady to understand that he had meant Verya. A smile flickered back to her face, though it did not wholly reach her eyes. “Verya would like that, I think. She’s an angel, that one—” She stilled her words before she spoke ill of Merilla before the children, or before she broke down at how much Verya had kept her from breaking under the loss of Gilwen by being there.
Faeldor turned bright again, and said they should hurry. He said that Gilwen would be happy to see her. Hope kindled in her, and the woman took a shaky breath. She needed to see her daughter. She wanted to hold her and tell her everything was going to be okay—that she loved her.
Those thoughts did not linger long. Faeldor admitted to her that she would be tired, that she had been left with the duty to handle all of the children of the house, that coming in the evening was not going to give Niniel the comfort she would like.
“Understand, she is much improved. She is feeling much better now than before. She was very unwell for a time, and she does not remember a lot of it, so there is not much to ask her of it.”
Niniel looked frightened. “Was it so bad?” She whispered. Perhaps Faeldor could not speak to her on it now, and certainly she was not going to broach the subject with Gilwen, but she had full intention now of pulling him aside and learning of everything. She should have been there.
"Mama is trying to fatten her up."
Diore once more chimed in, and while the child once more meant the words to be completely light, they scathed Niniel even more. She could hardly bring herself to imagine her Gilwen, her daughter, naught but skin and bones and ill.
She fell silent, though treaded along with an even enough pace. They climbed the tiers, and Niniel finally could no longer take the rising concern she felt in her. “Faeldor,” she began quietly. “…Does…does she even wish to—” See me, she finished wihtout words. She lifted her brown eyes to watch his face. She would not trust simple words this time.
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Faeldor
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Do we walk in legends or on the green earth in the daylight?[Mo0:1]
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Post by Faeldor on Jan 15, 2013 17:22:28 GMT -5
“Was it so bad?”
“She was very ill when I found her. She had a very high fever and her body was chilled to the bone. I had been gone from the city for nearly five days and I take it she had been outdoors the whole time in the storm and the cold. She was not feeling well when I dropped her off here. Had I known she was not allowed back in her own home, we would have made a place for her in our house before all of this happened, but I thought I was doing the better by sending her back to her father's house where he wanted her. I assumed her own father would have looked after her,” Faeldor said angrily, not looking at Niniel. He was having a difficult time not losing his temper though. He was not upset with Gilwen's mother... inwardly, he knew a good mother would not send her child away. He sighed. His true anger was with himself, and with Beregar, with Miriel and with Durion.
“You will find her much improved though, from that state. Mother, Grandmother, and the girls all saw to her during the worst of it,” he concluded.
“Mama made Gilwen some new clothes. She has a yellow dress,” Diore added happily. “And now she does not have to sit in bed anymore. She can come sit in the garden and she can listen to music when Grandfather plays, but she won't dance yet. Fael won't let her. I have to dance with Faelon and Marileth and Hali.”
Haliel added quietly, “We baked cookies today with Gilwen. She felt well enough to make cookies with us. They were burned but... I don't think Gilwen knows how to cook very well. We didn't want to tell her...” She felt the need to reassure Niniel as well, that Gilwen was not sick anymore like she had been.
Faeldor nodded in acknowledgment of Haliel. “I'm sure Gilwen had fun baking cookies with you. I hope you were both good girls.”
“Diore was eating the sugar,” Haliel added, “And running near the stove.”
“Gilwen let me scoop, and I was not running. I was dancing,” Diore protested.
“Ah, well there was the mistake,” Faeldor laughed lightly, looking back to Niniel, calmer now. The little children and their little voices did well to calm him.
“…Does…does she even wish to—”
“I think she does,” he answered simply. “I don't... rightly know. I did not ask her before I invited you. I just thought she would like her mother to come visit, and I know she is tired. Perhaps after supper you can simply visit in the bedroom with her instead of with all the family.”
Diore burst, “Gilwen stays in Faeldor's bedroom.”
Faeldor's eyes widened, and he added quickly, “And I stay in my brother's room right now. Gilwen has the room to herself.” He felt the need to clarify. True, at first, Gilwen would hardly sleep alone and so Faeldor would stay with her during the nights, but lately it had seemed more comfortable among the family for him to stay with Faelon, and Gilwen had not needed company during the night. Just deep rest.
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Gilwen
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There are times when silence has the loudest voice.[Mo0:0]
Posts: 593
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Post by Gilwen on Jan 15, 2013 18:18:06 GMT -5
“He…he regretted it, I think—Beregar regretted it,” she whispered sadly. A pain and weight rising in her chest. Her husband had to have regretted it; he was simply too proud to ever admit it. Still, hearing Faeldor speak, it became increasingly clear to Niniel that he was furious, and she worried that she was distrusted as well.
She should have, after all, been more ready to defy her husband and defend her daughter. But she had thought, truly, Beregar would have relented on the matter. Now, though, hearing of her daughter’s fever and weakness, she knew it was no excuse.
Diore chimed of how Gilwen was now able to leave the bed, how she had new clothes and could listen to the music that their family played. A strange mix of emotions took her, then. She was glad her daughter was on the mend, and deeply and irrevocably distressed that it seemed Faeldor and his family could care for her baby better than she ever could.
Anna was clutched a bit closer to Niniel’s chest.
“I think she does,” he answered simply. “I don't... rightly know.”
Her bottom lip quavered, and her mouth fell open as if she wished to speak, though could not. Slowly, she nodded and turned away from Faeldor to focus on the winding pathway through the city that they were following. Intense fire seized her eyes, the burning sensation that resulted from trying to keep her tears under lock and key.
“Well, should she not,” Niniel murmured, voice quavering ever so slightly. “I could not blame her. If she does not, I will go.”
Faeldor offered a private conversation with her in the privacy of the bedroom, and Niniel supposed that could be best. Even if they could not speak, at least she could look at her and not feel as if the house was passing judgment over her and her poor parenting. Things were not supposed to be this way.
Diore thought, perhaps she was being helpful with the bit of information she supplied next. “Gilwen stays in Faeldor's bedroom.”
This certainly had horrified Faeldor, his expression immediately changing in panic and surprise. Niniel’s own brow raised, and wondered, for a moment, if he had married her daughter in secrecy.
“And I stay in my brother's room right now. Gilwen has the room to herself.”
Niniel smiled at him somewhat ruefully. She understood why he was flushed and worried; claims of Gilwen’s and his relations were what had started this whole mess. Perhaps he thought it necessary to assure her, as Gilwen’s mother, that he had not taken her daughter for himself yet, but Niniel already knew that. She trusted her daughter. She always had.
“I’m sorry for the arrangement,” Niniel said aside, not wanting Faeldor to think she even faintly considered his intentions. Though, honestly, he had tried to take her hand for weeks now, and by her own husband’s stubbornness been denied. If anything had happened between them, she reasoned she could not blame them. Not anymore.
--
Gilwen sat, watching the little boy play with his horse-toy in he golden light of the fire. She marked, for a moment, the window and the light left in the sky. Surely, she mused, Faeldor would be returning soon. She drew a shaky breath, and lifted her fingers to fiddle with her silver ring upon her silver chain.
She did not know what was going to happen that night, nor indeed, how long she would have the energy left to really sit and speak with her mother the way she wanted. Or, in fact, if she wanted to speak to her at all. Still, she knew that whatever did happen, that ring Faeldor had given her was not going to be taken away, and he would certainly sit with her afterward should things go ill, and he would help her feel better.
For not the first time since she had found herself in the House of Faelon as a sickly resident, she wished for Beleth. She would know what to do.
“They should be here soon,” Gilwen whispered to Eoric. He looked up to her and tossed aside the toy to once more ask to be lifted into her lap. Slowly the lady smiled and bent to take him up in her arms and set him in her lap once more. His little hand touched her cheek, and Gilwen pressed her forehead to his.
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Faeldor
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Do we walk in legends or on the green earth in the daylight?[Mo0:1]
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Post by Faeldor on Jan 15, 2013 23:41:35 GMT -5
“He…he regretted it, I think—Beregar regretted it.”
“He best have,” Faeldor muttered angrily. Haliel patted his back, knowing her brother was upset, though not entirely sure of what he was speaking of. “To leave her out there like that... I am still not entirely sure what happened to her over the course of those days that she was alone, and she does not remember. It could have been anything. But most likely it was that she sat alone in the rain wondering why her life had turned out the way that it did. I do take some of the blame for her situation, that I could not have done more to dissuade my sister's rumors... but I cannot forgive her father for making the decision to cast her off. If he had regretted it, he should have gone out in the rain himself to search for her. Or he should have visited her after he had learned what had happened.”
What if it happened that Gilwen never did regain her strength? It was possible. There could be lifelong trauma after such a traumatic event. Likely the physical trauma was past... she would not regress now, as she was greatly mending. But her health just might never be stable again.
“I’m sorry for the arrangement.”
“The arrangement does not bother our household in the least,” Faeldor answered. They were always used to having many people about. Perhaps Miriel had been distressed by it at first, but she had calmed down considerably. Though he hadn't witnessed it, his Mother even mentioned that the two had spent some time together. Gilwen had a sweet demeanor that offended nobody in his household.
It was true. Faeldor would have rather the arrangement be different. He would not mind sharing his room with Gilwen. They might have been married. His mother would have allowed them to stay still with her until they found a place of their own. It would have troubled nobody. But it was put off now due to unfortunate circumstance. She would have been much happier living with him as a married woman as well. It would have done more for the situation and the talk that had stemmed from having an unwed woman living in his household. It would have looked better even for Gilwen's father and mother, to have her married. If image was all that Beregar was concerned about.
“I would rather it have been on better accord though. Perhaps she might have been healthy. We might have been married already. If I had known that Beregar was so intent on sending her away, I would have married her immediately and taken her into my home. She might have been healthy and happy. You might have visited on better terms.” It was clear that Faeldor had slightly lost track of his control... though it was true, Niniel seemed the perfect person to speak to about it. He hardly wished to riddle his family with his intense dreads and misgivings... but perhaps Niniel would understand.
True, he had proposed an engagement upon Gilwen, and she had accepted. They were waiting until her health returned, and until they had been able to notify her family. At least to invite them... whether they decided to show up or not was the question, but Faeldor would marry her. He was beyond waiting for such a time. He almost stated so, but decided that perhaps Gilwen would like to make the statement for him. She indeed had the ring on a chain around her pretty neck, and had not taken it off since his proposal. He knew his promise was important to her. It had become the one thing she could truly depend on in her bitter life at the moment.
The little girls were quiet, and looking at each other. They had heard much of this before. It was too difficult to truly understand, other than they both knew that Faeldor wished Gilwen to be his wife, and that they were going to be married soon. --
“Mama is home?” Eoric asked, misconstruing the comment Gilwen had made to him. He had come to be incredibly attached to Meleth since his stay had begun a couple months previous, and was almost certainly at her side during all his waking hours when she was home. The separation was difficult, but bearable, if only for the fact that he also adored Gilwen.
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Gilwen
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There are times when silence has the loudest voice.[Mo0:0]
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Post by Gilwen on Jan 16, 2013 15:50:38 GMT -5
Niniel flinched as Faeldor had continued, and dropped her eyes to the stone cobbles below her feet. She tried her best to retain her composure, but it was certainly not working very well anymore. She felt so horrendous, so awful, she had half a mind to turn around and just go back to her home. Faeldor was right; Beregar should have left their home to find her. Though, so she should have too. Neither of them deserved Gilwen’s love now, and she had more than a passing notion now that Faeldor might believe so as well.
“If I had known that Beregar was so intent on sending her away, I would have married her immediately and taken her into my home. She might have been healthy and happy. You might have visited on better terms.”
She took a shaky breath, but did not speak and did not once look to her escort. Niniel could not bear the weight of the guilt in her chest. If Faeldor had just simply been given Gilwen’s hand readily, this never would have happened. Her daughter would have been healthy, happy, and wed, not sick and sorrowful. Niniel could feel the air in her lungs transform to lead as she tried to breathe. Faeldor said she was mending, but Niniel had spent her life as a caretaker. Fevers sometimes left horrible things in their wake. Gilwen could remain weak forever, unwell and fragile. This sickness could have robbed her of a long life, of her ability or strength to have children. It could have taken away everything her daughter had ever even wanted, and it was her own parents’ fault.
She looked up, eyes faintly glistening to mark the houses. This was the sixth tier—Niniel recognized the house they were approaching. It was the same two storied structure Gilwne had pointed out to her those months ago when Niniel had trailed at her heels and followed her to work. Somewhere inside that house, the one with the pleasant windows and spacious rooms, was her Gilwen. And it was possible she did not even wish to see her.
They approached the house, though Niniel fell back a few paces. Faeldor, certainly, would have to go in first. If her daughter was as meek as she sounded, he would certainly not just send Niniel in and hope for the best. He would probably go speak to her, warn her and steel her for her mother’s presence. Perhaps judge if now was the right time, or if Niniel should only see her after dinner. Or, if she should see her at all.
Niniel squeezed again the ragdoll that she carried. She prayed to the Valar, to Eru himself, that her daughter would not turn her away, that she would be well soon, that her life had not been ruined by Beregar’s fiery and rash temper or by Niniel’s own confusion as to what to do. That her daughter could forgive her. Niniel was sure her heart would not be able to handle any rejection from her daughter.
Still, she said nothing, and tried to keep her face as even as possible. Her stomach was clenched, though, and there was nothing in all the world she wanted more than to embrace her daughter and tell her how sorry she was. She wanted to kiss her cheeks, and make everything up to her. Maybe if things went well, maybe if she was not immediately turned away, Niniel would take Faeldor aside and tell him to marry her precious daughter even if Beregar would not approve. Faeldor and Gilwen deserved every happiness.
--
“Mama is home?”
Gilwen caught her breath. “Oh, no, sweetheart,” she whispered and kissed his cheek. “Fael,” she corrected. “And Hali, and Diore…” Though, perhaps Meleth would get home soon. How long had it been since she had been taken from the house on emergency? She leaned back, sinking into the plush cushions and drawing the little boy against her gently. She almost closed her eyes; she could, so easily, sleep. But if she did, Faeldor would certainly send her mother away, or worry and put her to bed, or both. Gilwen did not know how she felt about seeing Niniel, but she knew she wanted to.
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Faeldor
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Do we walk in legends or on the green earth in the daylight?[Mo0:1]
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Post by Faeldor on Jan 16, 2013 21:35:36 GMT -5
When the house came into view, Faeldor placed Haliel back on the ground, and Diore handed her the cane.
“I am hungry,” Haliel stated, wobbling along beside her brother. “I hope the stew is ready.” Faeldor slowed his steps slightly for the last bit, to not leave Haliel behind and when they reached the steps, lifted her to the top, where Diore was already pushing open the heavy door, and calling into the house to announce their arrival.
“Gilwen! Your Mama is here, and she brought you your dolly!” she announced gleefully in her small and oddly un-Gondorian voice. As the blonde girl raced into the house, and the dark haired one did her best to keep up so that she might also gift some of the news, Faeldor stopped and looked at Niniel.
He had definitely upset her, as he had upset himself. It had not been his intention, but it had been bound to happen. He could not lie about the condition in which Gilwen had been found, or the difficulty she had come through.
“Come then,” Faeldor said gently. “I know she will wish to see you, and we will all have some supper. Perhaps then I will be able to walk you back home before the dark is upon us.” The latter comment was not because he wished to rush her out of the house, or because he thought Gilwen would be upset at her presence, but mostly for the sake of the danger at night upon the first tier. Things seemed to be getting worse and worse in that area of the city, as more people of the south ventured near, and more people from outlying lands were forced into the city for safety. With more people always came more trouble.
Niniel looked so much like Gilwen in her sadness. There it was... he had always thought of Gilwen as her namesake... star maiden. Though Niniel's name was a sad one. Woman of tears it was, and now she was so. The Stable Master put a warm hand on the older woman's back to lead her up the stairs with him. “I do regret this is the first time you have been to our home. Certainly Mother would be a better hostess, but I will do my best.” Faeldor frowned slightly, a smirk curling his lips. “As a host. Not a hostess.”
Upon entrance to the house, Faeldor found Marileth coming down the hall to greet him. “I think the stew is ready, should I put it upon the table, brother?” She added shyly, “Hello,” to Niniel, glancing at her face, and Faeldor's for assurance that all was well. They both appeared slightly upset.
“Yes, please,” Faeldor answered, not sure how hungry he actually was. “This is Mari, one of my sisters,” Faeldor stated to Niniel. “I have many,” he smiled. It was not uncommon that the households of the upper class had servants to cook and clean for them, but Faeldor's house was not one of those, and he wished Niniel to know. They did their own work.
“Gilwen's Mama, Gilwen is in the sitting room,” Diore announced, down the hallway, with Eoric trailing happily after.
“Ah! Let us not delay then!” Faeldor answered to the little girl happily. “Diore, get Hali then, and Mari, please take Eoric. You may all start supper without us, and we will come in soon to join you. Perhaps... perhaps you can all think of a song to sing together for our guest. And be good.” Faeldor looked directly at Diore for the last statement. “Listen to Marileth, you are in her charge right now.”
“Yes, Fael,” Diore answered, looking up at him with a smile, but then down to her feet when she realized the firm voice. She would be good for Faeldor. At least for a time.
“Well then,” Faeldor said, looking back to Niniel as the children took back down the hall toward the dining room.
There was only one more disruption, and that was Faelon, sprinting down the hall as he heard the voices speaking of supper. He had removed the filthy shirt he had worn at the stables, as Faeldor had asked him to, and washed up... but failed to redress himself. The eight year old boy was chastised for this and sent to retrieve his shirt, for company was here, and as finally he went about to do so, his stomach growling in protest for the extra minutes he must now wait to eat!
Faeldor had determined that, at least at first, he was going to stay with Gilwen for her meeting with her mother. He was uncertain as to how she would handle it... but assumed that perhaps she would handle it better if he were with her. For all the ruckus in the hall, he needed not announce their coming, and so he entered the sitting room quietly, smiling truly at Gilwen as he entered and going to her at the chair to offer her a hand in standing. He mused that she did look nice. She had improved greatly. The deep circles of exhaustion beneath her eyes had lessened, though not completely disappeared, and her skin had a light glow once more. As he took her hand, he mused, for lack of lye water and hard labor, it was softer than he had ever felt it. Her hair, though slightly mussed, was clean and dark, and she wore one of the simple dresses that Meleth and Tinuves had quickly made for her when she had arrived. The one that she had come here in had been discarded to rags. Faeldor never would wish to see her in that again, and so he had made it clear to Meleth that it need not be mended. If only she might wear a smile on her face, Faeldor thought, her mother would certainly be pleased.
As the man drew her against his side, he noticed again the glint of her ring on the chain about her neck. Surely, Niniel would see, he thought proudly. Things would be well for Gilwen, as Faeldor would always care for her, no matter the things that had already happened, Gilwen would never find herself in such a dark place again. Perhaps...
“I have asked my Starlight to marry me, and she has accepted,” Faeldor said, looking to Niniel for approval, and kissing Gilwen upon the side of her face.” Perhaps... that was the best place to start. On a note of happiness. The sadness had already been spoken of, and now for the happiness.
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