Gilwen
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There are times when silence has the loudest voice.[Mo0:0]
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Post by Gilwen on Mar 27, 2009 19:05:36 GMT -5
A few weeks had passed since she had met Faeldor by chance in the hallways of the palace. Though, to Gilwen it seemed to prove not by chance at all. At times she felt childish, and foolish though she was beginning to feel that he was to wonderful of a person to have been bumped into at random. The Valar surely had their hand in it. Or at least, this is what she had come to believe the past few days.
Gilwen stood in her small bedroom looking down at herself critically. At times, she wished for a larger looking glass, though she knew she could not afford such things. She sighed, and brought her hands to her face. Was this going to prove to be so fretful?
On one of the days Faeldor had chose to spend his beak seeking her among the palace hallways she had been extended an invitation to join he and his family for supper. She had agreed---it was always an honor to receive a dinner invitation--without really thinking anything of it. Though plenty of thoughts had come afterwards.
Thus she was there, standing in her nicest dress in her small room, second guessing everything. Calling it her nicest dress seemed to imply something a bit more grand than it was. A jade gown, she wore, with a golden trim about the neck and hemline that she had been given nearly two years ago. It was worn often for social events, and the colors reflected it. Still, it was the best she could offer. Is this really decent enough? She thought morosely, dropping her hands to her side in frustration with a small sound of disapproval.
Faeldor would be here any minute to escort her back to his house. She needed something that would give her a good first impression on those of his family she had never before met.
"You shouldn't worry about it to much," her mother's low and even tone wafted from her doorway. "You look lovely in that dress." Gilwen turned to see her mother smiling at her lovingly. She returned the smile, and fingered the folds of her skirt. Of course her mother thought it becoming on her. She and her father were the ones who had saved their wages to buy it for her birthday two years back.
"Thank you, Mama." Gilwen replied. She was not in utter agreement with her mother, though disrespect was not something that she would allow herself to partake in. She walked to the doorway and gave her mother a kiss on the cheek. "He should be here soon," Gilwen murmured nervously, taking a hand to check her hair.
"I wish to meet this Faeldor," Niniel said with a bemused lilt, as she moved into the living area with her daughter, who was now nervously fiddling with her brown locks to be sure they did behave. "Stop fussing, dear girl!" She laughed, moving back to their own kitchen. She still must prepare supper for she and Beregar, the girls father. Though he had not yet returned from duties.
Gilwen dropped her hands. It was no use, anyway. Her cheek was still slightly discolored from the bruise she had received from Miriel, and the dress did not imply in the least she was from an upper-class family. Why should her hair?
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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 Mar 27, 2009 20:10:25 GMT -5
Faeldor was by all means not dressed in his finest, but his hair was neatly combed and tied back with a cord, his beard trimmed, and he did not smell like horse for once. He looked gentlemanly and well composed. A silken tunic, darkly green, with faint silver embroidery around the edges; branches among silver stars; and emblem to his loyalty to Gondor. Along with he wore a black belt, along with hosen and boots of the same coloration. These were clothes that had not been soiled by his daily labor among the stables, and reserved for such occasions as company. It would have been excessive to wear his clothes that were left for social gatherings at the palace. Aside, he did not want his own clothing to outdo that of beautiful Gilwen, for she was the one who would shine tonight, he was certain.
The man had not had a chance to spend an evening with this lady that he was now calling on, since the very first day he had met her. Too many nights he had spent the last weeks on duty, resting on his cot in the stables, and singing to himself and his horses about starlight and moonlight. He did see Gilwen almost daily though, in the palace, and in the stables. And if a day had passed that he did not see her, he missed her terribly. Before this day, Faeldor did not realize how very dear a person could become to another in such a short time.
His sisters teased him over the matter. Narbeleth asked the man of daily events. Marileth listened quietly, and Haliel adored his brother’s new friend, even though she had never met her. “She must be so beautiful,” the little girl had told him, earlier in the day. Miriel was the only exception. She had grudgingly complained about the matter for the first weeks. Although for the past few days, she had suddenly stopped, and her voice had become much sweeter to Faeldor. Perhaps she would relent and give the matter over.
Now! He was off to the third tier,
His mild spirit was not at all nervous, and he walked along the streets humming and singing to himself as he went. He would be glad to see her. And her parents. Or at least she had known that her mother would be home; her father was out training the men this afternoon. Faeldor would be glad to meet them. A charming girl was sure to have equally pleasant parents.
And there it was; a narrow little home and doorway, near the entrance to the second level. He stepped up to the doorway, and tapped on the wooden door, his hands behind his back waiting for the response.
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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 Mar 27, 2009 20:42:28 GMT -5
The light rap on the door made Gilwen instantly restless. Her hands flew to clasp together in front of her stomach as she peered behind her to see if her mother had heard it as well. "I would like to open the door when he arrives," Niniel had told her daughter earlier when she had been readying herself. "Of course, Mama." She had agreed. But now, Gilwen feared she did not move quickly enough to the door. As if Faeldor would leave without her. She knew her nerves were getting the best of her now, what with silly thoughts like those.
Her mother rounded the division between kitchen and living area once more, her eyes glittering happily. Gilwen was five and twenty, after all. And the servant knew her mother worried over her lack of suitors. Sometimes, Gilwen even got the impression her mother had wished her wed by now. Niniel reached a tender hand to her frantic daughter's cheek. "Gilwen, do not worry. You have blossomed into quite the woman," she murmured soothingly, and moved to the door.
It was opened quickly, and Gilwen watched her mother's reaction quietly from behind. Her smile had stayed even, so that was a pleasing sign. There was, realistically nothing for Gilwen to fear. She had never met a man as docile and gentle as Faeldor; he was the type of man every mother wished to have show up at their daughter's doorstep. Still, the act of him doing so had sent her into a fit of second guessing.
The bruise on her cheek had made her father wary of her daughter's friend at first, for were not both children raised the same? When her daughter would speak about him around the house, he would be silent. After a few days, though, Gilwen's mother had confronted him gently on the matter. They had thought she had not been listening, though the house was to small to warrant private conversations.
Still, it had proven worthwhile. He no longer disapproved, and his mother was all the more joyous, it seemed. Her mother's voice from the doorway sounded cheerful, "You must be Faeldor! Please, do come in. You are most welcome." She stepped aside to let him enter, giving Gilwen a full view of his person.
He looked handsome, as he always did, though with much nicer clothes than the ones he wore about the stables. She dropped her hands to her side, wringing the sides of her dress momentarily in nerves. He dressed so well. Gilwen sighed slightly thinking of her own dress. This old thing would look exactly that: old. Especially when juxtaposed next to his lovely tunic. She smiled at him though, and did not show her self awareness. He was not the one that would be judging her tonight.
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Faeldor
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Post by Faeldor on Mar 27, 2009 21:14:47 GMT -5
The man waited patiently at the door. To Faeldor, the time between his knock and the answer seemed almost instantaneous. There in front of him was a woman with soft smile, and brown eyes the same as dear Gilwen’s very own.
It must be her mother, surely
He was ushered into the house, and his smile did not leave. It was very quaint. Small, and simple. Faeldor’s home had always been rather large, though with the number of people residing within, it seemed small at times. He glanced past, and saw Gilwen standing behind. He looked at her for a moment, bright eyed, but then returned to her mother. “And you must be Niniel,” the man answered, as he entered. He gently took the woman’s hand, and bent to kiss it. It was small as Gilwen’s but perhaps softer, even though she were older. He released the hand as gently as he had taken it. “I thank you for allowing me the privilege of your lovely daughter this evening.”
“Hello, Starlight,” Faeldor finally said, looking now to Gilwen. He was quite fond of this little pet name he had given her. He did not use it all the time, but when he did, he was reminded of Fela Isilme. Perhaps it was not appropriate to use the name in front of her mother, but then, he could not come up with reason in his mind to not. They had named her such afterall. Her parents very well knew her beauty.
He was quite taken for a moment, for he had never seen the woman in anything other than her servants garb. I am foolish, he thought inwardly. To think she would dress the same as ever. Her image was clearly painted in his mind as such, in the black and white dress and apron that she usually wore, but tonight was a different story. Different altogether. Oh just look at her… he thought. To Faeldor, nothing about her looked old. She was young and lovely. She was certainly lovelier than any woman he had ever cared to look at. Though, he had not had much time to look at women in these past years. He was much too busy for such things. But when they stepped right into his life as Gilwen had… oh, what a treasure she was. He awaited her smile, for that would make her all the prettier. It would be difficult to sit by her in his home all evening, he thought, and not kiss her cheeks continuously. He would need have his fill of it before they reached his house. He grinned, extending a hand for Gilwen to approach him and take.
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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 Mar 27, 2009 21:42:40 GMT -5
“And you must be Niniel." Faeldor scooped up her hand and gently kissed it, which made the smile on Gilwen's Mother's face all the wider, if it was at all possible. "So I am." Her hand was released and she let it fall to her side. "It is my pleasure to let you take Gilwen this eve."
In fact, Gilwen would say the privilege was indeed on her family. With one less mouth to feed, they had saved money in cooking. And by the way her mother was glowing, Gilwen imagined that Faeldor was precisely what she was hoping for. This eased a bit of the anxiety the girl felt, though it was sure to rise to new extremes the minute they arrived at his house.
“Hello, Starlight." Faeldor's eyes were now on her, and she smiled widely. Though, it was not simply because he was here, even if that was a large part of it. Behind Faeldor and to his right now stood her mother, hands happily clasped up by her heart smiling so much it looked to about stretch her cheeks! Her mother had been the one to pick her name, so Gilwen imagined that hearing his pet name had given her an immense joy.
Faeldor was lost for a moment. Gilwen had learned to pick up on the times he studied her. Depending on her nerves at the time it warranted different responses. Today, she blushed lightly, her smile not leaving her face, and finally crossed to him to take his hand. It felt odd to grasp his hand when her mother was glowing at them right nearby, though it did not cause Gilwen to falter.
She turned to wish her mother a goodbye. "I shall return later, Mama." Her mother had dropped her hands once more, and reigned in her smile slightly. Her mother moved toward her, and Gilwen dropped the stable-master's hand for a moment to embrace her mother.
"Be yourself, dear. There is nothing not to like," Niniel whispered the final words to her daughter and kissed her on the cheek, and stepped back once more.
As Gilwen once again reached for Faeldor's hand she thought of asking her mother to bid her father a goodnight for her. She faltered, though for Faeldor was there. She wished not to speak of anything that would make him sad, or upset so she simply smiled and turned to look at Faeldor from under her lashes. She was ready to leave, then. However, it was Faeldor's initiative to take, since he did have her by the hand.
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Faeldor
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Post by Faeldor on Mar 27, 2009 22:22:42 GMT -5
As he made his introductions, Faeldor was relieved. Niniel seemed a sweet and joyful woman. Gilwen did indeed come from a good and loving home, he knew that very instant. He was glad for the lady to take his hand, and he was even more joyful to see her smile widen. He did not know of her mother’s expression behind his back, but if he had, he would have been touched by such a thing. He watched as the woman bid her mother goodnight, and they embraced.
“I shall bring her home safely, and please assure her father of the fact as well,” Faeldor said, bowing slightly to Niniel. It seemed slightly silly, to say that he would bring her safely home. The first time he had taken her outside the city, without her parents permission, to a place that may have been dangerous in multiple ways. Well, Faeldor was a strong man, and keeping a lady physically safe would be no trouble. Emotional safety was of another issue, and in some cases could be highly devastating. However, Faeldor had not told Gilwen of the most recent news, and she would come to no trouble this evening. His sister, Miriel, had been his only concern for having her attend a supper at his own house. But Miriel had earlier told him that she would be supping with her friend Rosiel this evening. All the better. He loved his sister, but his sister did not love Gilwen.
Faeldor smiled again to Niniel. He wondered at the woman’s name, for though Gilwen’s namesake spoke of beauty, and the girl was beautiful, Ninel’s name did not seem to capture her image though. She did not seem a woman of tears. Her smile had only widened since his entrance. “Do have a good evening,” he told her.
With that, Faeldor stepped towards the door, his lady’s hand within his own. It was still quite light outside. And they lived the perfect distance apart, he thought. Close enough that it was not a chore to walk to her home, yet far enough that they might have time to converse alone before they entered with the barrage of family at his own home. He gently squeezed her hand; well aware that her mother would probably be watching from the doorway as they left. He could not kiss her yet, but nothing was stopping him from starting their evening with a song as they walked away, quite attuned to the occasion.
“When the shy star goes forth in heaven All maidenly, disconsolate, Hear you amid the drowsy even One who is singing by your gate. His song is softer than the dew And he is come to visit you.
O bend no more in revery When he at eventide is calling. Nor muse: Who may this singer be Whose song about my heart is falling? Know you by this, the lover's chant, 'Tis I that am your visitant.”*
His words were low and sweet to her, and he meant every one of them.
"When the Shy Star Goes Forth in Heaven" by James Joyce
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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 Mar 27, 2009 22:46:19 GMT -5
Niniel curtsied slightly in return, and nodded. "Neither of us shall question your care for our daughter, though I shall let him know." The two lingered in her doorway a moment more before he bade her a good evening and whisked her Gilwen out her front door. She closed the wooden door slowly lingering to watch young Faeldor lead her daughter off, and once the door was closed she ventured to the window to peer after them some more.
She meant no harm by it, mind, it was simply sheer excitement that drove her to it. And Niniel did wish to see how he handled her, even though she trusted him.
Gilwen could feel her mother's eyes as they moved up the street. Though, she tried to pay it no mind. Such was the eccentricities of her mother. It was still lovely out, and the people of the third tier were all out and about the streets; yet Gilwen felt as if she and Faeldor were walking alone. He squeezed her hand, and began to sing to her once more.
He had quite the gift for it. His voice was soft, soothing. And the ones he found to sing her always made her feel warm, and special. Gilwen listened, for a moment raising her eyes to look at him. Faeldor seemed to be captivated by the fact her name held a meaning with "star" in it---all of the songs he sang to her spoke of them. Still, it pleased her for she knew that they were intended for her and no other. Someday, perhaps she would inquire as to why he loved stars so, but for now she was contented to listen.
"You have a gift with song," she said softly. The words had eased her anxiety. For the time it took Faeldor to bring her to his doorstep, she would be calm. Until she reached the doorstep of his house upon the sixth tier of the city, Gilwen would not think of the pressure she had placed on herself to compensate for her stature, or dread the bitter glances that Miriel was sure to give her this eve. No, her mind was clear save for her singing companion.
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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 Mar 27, 2009 23:17:12 GMT -5
"You have a gift with song." Hah. A gift. If she did enjoy it so much though it would only encourage him to do so more. “I enjoy song. It stirs emotions. It is what we grew up on. I’m sure you have heard Mother singing in her bakery. Just imagine how she is about our house, and her mother the same way. Grandmother does live with us, you shall meet her as well tonight. No doubt the children will have also prepared the evening’s entertainment. Marileth’s voice is heavenly. She must be a minstrel someday.”
“Do you sing?” the young man asked her. “I have not heard it yet, and I would very much like to.” He urged her, hoping that she might. Of course, he would not ask her to sing here and now if she did not wish. Not everyone could sing on public display without fear of judgment. But Faeldor could not judge her.
How lovely, how lovely, he mused for a space. “My family is glad to meet you. Grandmother and Grandfather, and the children, and Mother is glad to have you as well.” He wondered if Gilwen were nervous. He did not want to sound excited in his next statement, but simply matter of fact. He had not pressed much the issue of Miriel with Gilwen, for it seemed that his sister had mostly left her alone since that horrid day, of which the bruise was still on her cheek to show. “Miriel will be out tonight. She is dining with a friend of hers; she has told me this just this very morning.”
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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 Mar 27, 2009 23:38:09 GMT -5
With a simple compliment, Gilwen had come upon quite a bit of information about his family. So they were musically inclined, or so it seemed to her. Being brought up on song certainly would explain Faeldor's tendency to serenade. She had always loved music: it spoke when other words could fail. Her family was not one to sing about the home, though sometimes she would catch her mother humming something as she sat in front of the fire.
No, she and her father used to romp about when he was not to tired, and play sword fight. He would teach her to handle horses, and take her riding when there was time. Though, her family had not taught her to sing, they had taught her to dance. So that she "feel like a true lady" if she ever found herself at some sort of ball.
She laughed somewhat nervously and turned her eyes back on the street. "I do not sing often, for it is forbidden to speak while working. And when one works is when one wishes to sing." It was going to come up eventually, what with his constant singing--he would surely soon wonder why it was so one-sided. "I also have not the talent you have," she quietly finished.
“My family is glad to meet you. Grandmother and Grandfather, and the children, and Mother is glad to have you as well.” There were so many people that she was to meet! At least two faces would be familiar. And to her knowledge Meleth thought well of her. She could feel herself growing nervous once more, and quickly tried to quell it.
Faeldor did the job for her. Miriel would not be dining with them this evening? She sighed, thankfully, though immediately felt horribly rude. "I am sorry," she murmured quickly. They had not spoken since she called her a harlot. Probably all for the better. She was sure it would only be worse if they had continued speaking.
"I am glad to meet your family as well," Gilwen finally replied. She would leave off the fact she was nervous they would think her no good, just as Miriel had.
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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 Mar 28, 2009 0:05:57 GMT -5
“You are rather hard on yourself,” Faeldor said. It was, perhaps, a blunt statement. But he punctuated it with a kiss to the side of her forehead as they walked. In his weeks of time spent with her, Faeldor was beginning to notice simple things about Gilwen, in behavior and action. First, her hands, which she hid from sight and notice as often as possible. And then her loveliness. Perhaps at times it was hidden behind her servants garb and the lye water she worked with, but she was most certainly beautiful. He could only think of one mouth that had uttered against that, and what did Miriel’s opinion of beauty matter anyway? When your loveliness only reaches the top layer of your skin, how can such words be taken as true?
And now of her voice, she stated that she had no talent. Her speech was soft and pretty, there was no suggestion as to why her singing voice would not be the same. “Just know that it would bring joy to my heart to hear you sing. I have already judged you as beautiful, and I doubt you could convince me otherwise.” If he had known that she was a dancer, he would have requested even that as well. He simply took joy in the woman in general, no matter what she might be doing.
His family would think the same as he. He was sure of it. What was there not to like about Gilwen? When she apologized for her hint of gladness that Miriel would not be there for the evening, Faeldor simply kissed the woman’s cheek. He could not blame her for being even the least bit glad of the matter. His sister, after all, had been horrendous to the girl. He did hope that the evening might go well.
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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 Mar 28, 2009 0:28:41 GMT -5
“You are rather hard on yourself." She looked up at him in time to have her forehead kissed pointedly. Perhaps she was a bit too harsh on herself. Still, in a line of work where self worth seemed to be beaten out of you, it did nor surprise her. Come to think of it, she had never once heard any of the women she work with say something positive of themselves. Topics of conversation, though generally stayed well away from themselves.
Sadly, many of the servants spoke to one another about the other servants, or the latest hear-say of the palace. For a while, Gilwen's encounter with Miriel had been prime talk amongst the others. And it always surprised Gilwen how distorted it all would become!
“Just know that it would bring joy to my heart to hear you sing." The words seemed to stand out amongst the rest. And she bashfully lowered her gaze. She wanted to make him happy. Singing was not such an awful thing to do. Still, what would she sing? She knew very few songs well enough to repeat at such short notice.
She received another quick kiss upon her cheek and smiled. It seemed that they were definitely out of eyesight of her mother, otherwise Faeldor would not be so bold. She gazed up at him, and tightened her grip upon his hand. Walking through the street, it was all she could do. For even if it was appropriate to kiss his cheek here, she could not reach it.
Her thoughts went back to what he had said about singing to him. She would not sing in the streets, but perhaps she would find him at work and sing to him then. It would give her time, at least, to find a decent song to sing to him. The ones he sang to her were thoughtful. She should at least return the favor.
They moved rather quickly it seemed through the rest of the city and finally reached the sixth tier. She had walked this path many times, though never to stop amongst the houses here. Until Faeldor, she had known none that lived amongst the elite of Gondor. She took a deep breath and studied the houses. Considerably larger that her own, the all seemed magnificent. She waited expectantly to see which of them was his.
That house would be fondly thought of every time she passed from then on.
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Faeldor
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Post by Faeldor on Mar 28, 2009 1:02:02 GMT -5
There they stopped, in front of a large stone house. It had two floors, and there was a stair to reach the entrance, and Faeldor pushed the door open into a large entryway, where hung cloaks and boots. It was summer though, and they wore no outer clothing that need be removed.
“Oh Fael, it is good to see you!” Rosiel exclaimed. The girl had always been friends with Miriel growing up, and called him the same as his siblings. He had never corrected her, for he was simply used to it. But now he felt a slight ashamed that she seemed on such friendly terms with him. For a time he had thought that Miriel’s turbid friend might have simply given up. She had left him be the last weeks. But now as he came in the door, she came over, along with his siblings, to greet him, embracing him lightly, and kissing him upon the cheek, her hand against his chest as she drew it out.
It was only a moment though, before Faeldor’s mind kicked from the situation, and stepped back quickly. Rosiel fumbled for a moment as she gained her own balance. Since when had she been on such terms with him? Last they met he had politely kissed her hand, but it had only been the proper thing to do. He looked down to Gilwen, abashed that she had witnessed such.
He must be polite though, and words came to the stable master. “Good evening Rosiel. I did think that you and Miriel were dining together tonight.”
“Well I very well had not known that you were having a dinner party, Faeldor.” The horse master hated the flowing way in which the woman spoke his name.
Faeldor said nothing for a moment. Then he spoke. “Rosiel, this is Lady Gilwen, daughter of Niniel.” Faeldor motioned to the woman who was standing with him, her fingers still fully entwined with his, and he made a very profound point of gently drawing Gilwen against his side.
“Hm…” Rosiel muttered to herself. She looked down her nose at Gilwen, and then ignored her completely, saying nothing. Then she called into the kitchen to announce to Miriel that her brother was here. Miriel was preoccupied at the moment, helping her mother finish the cooking, but she smiled nonetheless. Meleth frowned.
“And Marileth, Faelon, and Haliel,” He listed them in order from tallest to shortest, turning slightly to face Gilwen; his back to Rosiel. In front of them stood three more youth; a boy, and two girls, one older, and one younger. Faelon, a little dark haired and bright eyed boy politely greeted Gilwen. Marileth was quiet, but politely said, “Hello.” And Haliel said nothing; but looked on the woman with large eyes. “Narbeleth must be in the kitchen, as well as Grandmother. And no doubt Grandfather is in the sitting room in the arm chair."
Faeldor was confounded, and thought back on the morning. Had not Miriel said she would be out tonight? And what were Rosiel’s presuppositions to the situation? Had she known that Gilwen would be here? And how would he explain to dear Gilwen the coldness of his situation.
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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 Mar 28, 2009 1:26:02 GMT -5
The two story house marked the end of their wandering through the streets. And Gilwen took a shaky breath before climbing the stairway to the large door. If Miriel was not going to be here, her night would be at least much less stressful. Though she still had to meet many of his family. Oh I do hope they like me. She thought one final time before stepping through the doorway with Faeldor.
“Oh Fael, it is good to see you!” A sibling, it seemed had noticed the moment he had arrived home. Or at least that was what Gilwen thought. Still, the young woman who came running up to him seemed about the same age as Miriel. Were any of his siblings twins? No, she thought finally seeing the girl embrace him and kiss his cheek so. She is no sibling.
Faeldor seemed surprised by the greeting from the young woman, and stepped back quickly. Gilwen just seemed to be wide-eyed, much like a deer. This was happening quite quickly for her, all the bodies coming to greet them. And who was this Rosiel, precisely? “Well I very well had not known that you were having a dinner party, Faeldor.” Immediately Gilwen felt underdressed. This Rosiel had quite a lovely dress on, and if it were a dinner party...still. There was nothing at all she could have worn that was dressier than this.
She was pulled into Faeldor's side, and presented to the woman. She smiled and was about to speak, but was completely ignored and the girl turned to call to Miriel. Gilwen's heart plummeted. What an evening this would be!
Faeldor drew her attention to three lovely children standing beside them. Gilwen smiled warmly at them. Perhaps this would not be such an awful experience. His three siblings seemed to at least acknowledge her. "It is a pleasure to meet you all," She said with a small curtsy.
“Narbeleth must be in the kitchen, as well as Grandmother. And no doubt Grandfather is in the sitting room in the arm chair." Oh, yes. There were three others for her to meet. She looked to Faeldor, reminding herself of why she had come, and gave his hand a small squeeze.
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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 Mar 28, 2009 2:06:42 GMT -5
“Gilwen! A pleasure to have you,” Meleth said, standing in the doorway to the kitchen, apron over her dress. She wiped her hands. She was certainly not dressed in her palace work wardrobe either, and the middle aged woman looked rather stunning, or at least her son thought so.
“Yes, a pleasure,” Miriel followed, drawling the words. Miriel had definitely outdone herself, a purely exquisite dress adorning her slender body. She had no smile on her face, and it appeared that she would say something else, butfor another girl broke through the doorway between her mother and sister.
Also lovely in appearance and just eighteen years old, Narbeleth came completely out of the kitchen, and gave Gilwen a proper welcome. “A pleasure indeed,” she said, her voice more bright than any. “I am Narbeleth, but you can just call me Beleth. And I am glad to meet you, for Fael speaks so fondly of you,” She grasped Gilwen’s free hand in both of her’s, and embraced her with a sisterly kiss on the cheek. She glanced at Faeldor over the woman’s shoulder, giving him a pitying look. Faeldor raised his brow in agreement, and thanked Narbelelth with his eyes. The girl continued, “I do like your dress, the color does suit you well.” Perhaps the dress was not as fancy as the dresses of the girls, but she was very truthful about the pretty jade green. It suited Gilwen’s eyes. And her hair was lovely as well.
Narbeleth was now, of course, making her own judgments, for she had heard both sides of the story; from Faeldor, and from Miriel. She released the girl finally and stepped back with the other three younger children. She placed a hand on little Haliel’s shoulder. “Go on now,” she whispered to the girl. Haliel stepped forward now, her awkward step very noticible, and she walked unsteadily over to Gilwen’s side as well, stumbling, but catching herself with fistful of Gilwen’s dress in her little hand. She steadied herself, and then held out her other hand, which contained three small blue flowers. “I did pick these for you today. I asked Fael if you were as pretty as a flower, and he did say yes, so I thought you might wear them in your hair.” Haliel smiled shyly, looking up at the woman, and clinging to her for balance as well.
Miriel made a sound of disapproval and an obnoxious sigh, but moved back to the kitchen so that she might finish her cooking and go on out with the others. She frowned, a spot of flour had dropped on her dress from her mother’s hands, when Narbeleth had lightly pushed through them.
There now, that was more like his sweet siblings, Faeldor thought. They were not all as daft as Miriel, that was certain. Then Rosiel came up behind the man. “Fael, I do need to speak with you,” she said lowly, in his ear. She was brash enough to grasp Faeldor’s wrist and insist that he go with her, pulling him from his comforting handhold on Gilwen.
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Gilwen
Man
servant
There are times when silence has the loudest voice.[Mo0:0]
Posts: 593
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Post by Gilwen on Mar 28, 2009 2:28:18 GMT -5
Gilwen smiled at Meleth and replied, "It is an honor for you to have me." Meleth was dressed quite lovely, and it was clear to Gilwen that she was careful of her appearance. Still, Meleth seemed to be a lovely woman inside and out. Her words had rang honest, unlike the ones that had followed from Miriel's tongue. She offered her a smile nonetheless. She was not going to be rude. Miriel's dress was absolutely exquisite. Something that was definitely one of Gondor's finest garments.
With her free hand she grasped a bit of fabric from her own jade dress. Surely she was underdressed! A woman parted the way between the two ladies and came rushing up to her. “I am Narbeleth, but you can just call me Beleth. And I am glad to meet you, for Fael speaks so fondly of you." She had grabbed her hand, and so her dress was released, though she felt considerably better now. She kissed Gilwen's cheek and hugged her, which the young woman returned. "Beleth, it is a pleasure to meet you." She smiled genuinely, one that seemed to say she was relieved that not all of his dear siblings did dislike her. If she had not been so overwhelmed, she probably would have blushed to learn Faeldor spoke of her behind her back so well.
She received a compliment on her dress from Beleth, though it did seem a tad strange she would beget such words. Still Gilwen smiled, "Thank you." Beleth moved away to go stand behind the other siblings she had met, and seemed to coax the young girl, Haliel, forward. Upon seeing her stumble, Gilwen reached to steady the child, though she did well to catch her skirts. Her hand she laid atop the girl's pretty head and smiled as if to be sure she was alright. Blue flowers were extended to her. Forget-Me-Nots. An absolutely beautiful little bouquet.
“I did pick these for you today. I asked Fael if you were as pretty as a flower, and he did say yes, so I thought you might wear them in your hair.” Gilwen leaned down slightly to be at eye level with the young girl and smiled widely. "He said that, did he?" She looked sideways up at Faeldor and then back to Haliel. "I would love to wear the flowers in my hair. Would you like to do it for me?" She asked kindly.
Next to her she could hear Rosiel whispering to Faeldor, and a tug at her arm. It seemed that Faeldor was being drug off somewhere while their hands were still intertwined. Curiously she looked to him. Did he wish her to drop his hand? She would not mind if he did. Haliel was about to make sure her hair looked lovely.
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