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 10:41:50 GMT -5
Meleth removed herself to the kitchen smiling, and women’s voices could be heard muffled from the far room. Surely Faeldor’s grandmother had her hands quite full and would enter later, when not disheveled by her dirty apron and doughy hands.
Faeldor let go of Gilwen reluctantly, for she was much occupied with his sisters.
“Fael,” Rosiel said quietly, having pulled Faeldor across the room to a convenient location, far enough so that with the sound of the ladies in the kitchen and the children talking, she could not be overheard by the others, but still well within sight of Gilwen and the others.
“Fael, I do worry for you,” Rosiel said sweetly, her hands resting on his shoulders. “This is entirely inappropriate.” She glanced back across the room at the girls and Gilwen, then to Faeldor again. She slid her hands down his arms, and stopped there, stepping closer to him. “Do you even know where that… girl… comes from?”
“Yes, I told you, she is daughter of Niniel. Her family lives on the third tier. I have only met her mother, but her father is a soldier loyal to the Steward. They are quite lovely,” Faeldor said, upset that he had been tugged from Gilwen’s side.
Rosiel continued, bridging the gap between them. “I’ve heard… that she is rather unstately. How are you even to know what she does with her time? You do not know the people on the third tier. Nobody would tell you different.” Her voice was all of concern for her friend’s brother. “Rumor has passed… well…” Rosiel lowered her voice and leaned near Faeldor’s ear to say the next. “…a sleeper.”
Faeldor frowned pointedly. Well he had heard the same thing, from Miriel countless times, but he was very sure that nobody had ever heard such a thing of Gilwen until his sister had started such a rumor. A few of the families on the sixth tier had probably heard the same thing, right from his own sister’s mouth.
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Meanwhile, Haliel had gladly agreed to help Gilwen place the flowers in her hair. When Gilwen bent to let her do so, she carefully chose to place them right behind Gilwen’s left ear. Yes, a becoming place. However, Haliel had clumsy hands, which had not the skills to run smoothly, and she broke one of the stems before she even managed to get the first flower into place, crushing it’s petals. She made a frustrated whimper and her hand began to shake. But immediately, shy Marileth stepped forward to help her sister fix the other two flowers, guiding her hands as if she were letting the little girl do it herself. “There,” Marileth said quietly, patting Gilwen’s hair lightly to let her know that they had finished.
“Oh, lovely,” Narbeleth grinned at her little sisters as they admired their work, and Marileth took just a step back. Haliel though had made a new friend it seemed, and she was not about to let go of Gilwen. She smiled widely and then pursed her little wet lips and kissed Gilwen, right on her own lips, putting her arms around the woman’s neck while she was still lowered, resting her head on the lady’s shoulder. Faeldor’s family had never been shy in their affections.
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On the other side of the room, Rosiel had been continuing her ministrations of Faeldor. The poor man knew not what to do, for the lady had quite a grip on his shirt sleeves, and she was far too close for his comfort. He could not rip himself away though, for Rosiel and Miriel would cause the biggest stir and ruin the evening if he were not polite, and he did want Gilwen to have a good evening.
“And what other rumors has Miriel fed you?” Faeldor’s gaze was noncompliant, but he did not move from her fixed grip. His voice was even and restrained.
“Rumors?” Rosiel laughed slightly, tilting her head back, and one of her hands slipped back behind Faeldor’s neck, causing his skin to burn in embarrassment. He barely ever showed such an emotion, but this time it was well requited. He did not want to be in this situation. “One does not need rumors to simply look at the girl and know she is a vagrant.” Perhaps she had raised her voice during her exclamation, and Faeldor hoped that Gilwen had not heard those words.
“Come, Fael. You have never even cared to look after ladies. If you are so driven to start courting now, there are plenty of proper women who already have eyes for you.” Rosiel’s breath burned his ears. Faeldor reached up and pulled her hand away from his neck, releasing it at her own side, and doing the same with the hand that was on his chest.
“I cannot stop you from saying such things…” he started, his teeth gritting to control his anger. “But you disgust me by it."
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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 11:09:55 GMT -5
As Faeldor moved away, Gilwen's eyes followed absently. All at once her source of confidence had left. Still, Haliel was intent on helping her place the flowers behind her ear, and the servant girl supposed no harm would become of her from such a dear little one. Though the display that Rosiel and Faeldor were offering was enough to cause her to grow uneasy.
Her attention was brought back to Haliel, though. Perhaps purposefully, as the sight of Rosiel touching Faeldor so had unnerved her. The little flowers were going to be tucked behind her left ear, and Gilwen once more offered the young girl a smile. She was having trouble guiding the flower behind her ear, though. And it saddened her to hear her small whimpers. Assistance arrived shortly, in the form of Marileth.
"There." Gilwen's smile widened. "It seems my ensemble is finally complete!" It touched her, that at least the younger siblings liked her. And before the woman had a chance to stand, she found Haliel's arms around her neck, and a quick kiss on her lips. It surprised her, though pleasantly. She wrapped her arms around the young girl in return. Still the overwhelming surge of contentment from that moment was dampened shortly after.
“One does not need rumors to simply look at the girl and know she is a vagrant.” Gilwen heard the words faintly from where Rosiel and Faeldor were speaking. For a moment, a look of pain swept through her eyes, though Haliel's little head against her shoulder quickly forced it away. She closed her eyes for a moment and thought of sighing.
It seemed that Miriel kept company with those who were quite like minded to her. Before she lost all contentment she turned her attention to little Haliel once more. Gilwen positively loved children, probably a product of her being an only child. "The next time I shall bring flowers for you, as well. And then you can wear them in your hair," a gentle tone Gilwen adopted, and kept her voice low.
She dared not look back to Faeldor and Rosiel now. It was apparent the woman had feelings for him, to any and all that would see her fawn on him in such a way. And while she felt that Faeldor was not one reciprocating the feelings, Gilwen was saddened anyway. Rosiel was gorgeous, at least skin deep, and had the same social standing as he and his family. She knew to Faeldor this meant very little. But how did the rest of his family feel about her social stature?
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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 16:22:13 GMT -5
Narbeleth frowned, for she heard the words that Rosiel shared with Faedor. Surely Gilwen had heard them ring out as well. What a way to treat company! And someone who her dear brother cared for too. She looked at the two and glared, disgusted herself by Rosiel’s actions. Would the woman never quit trying? Faeldor had denied her at least a dozen times already, but my, was she being brash now!
The girl turned around, looking back to Haliel and Gilwen. At least the little one was kind to her. It must be so difficult, to have such obstinate people trying to lower the poor lady. Fael was not one to make poor choices, and if he simply adored this lady, she was worthy indeed for her brother.
“That would be lovely,” Haliel answered gleefully. The little girl never travelled far from her home, so the only flowers she was usually about were the little blue ones, growing from the cracks in the stone on the edge of their house.
“But look…” she added, releasing Gilwen’s neck, but still holding onto her with one hand. She reached back, and pulled her braid to the front, showing the woman the dark blue ribbon tied at the end of her hair. It matched her little dress perfectly, and embroidered on the ends of it were little blue flowers of the very same likeness. “See, it is as if we have the same flowers,” she grinned.
“Haliel is our own little flower,” Narbeleth spoke. Haliel beamed. In truth, Faeldor had called the little girl his flower ever since she had been tiny, and the name had stayed amongst the family. Haliel adored to be called such, for even at the young age of seven, she was very conscientious about her appearance, and the way her toes turned in and she wobbled when she walked, or the way her back was curved slightly inward. To be called a flower, which to her was the prettiest thing there might be, kept her content.
“I do believe Haliel and Marileth have prepared a song for later,” she added, looking down to her sister and Gilwen.
“Yes, it is about summertime, and flowers,” the little girl added excitedly. Their Grandfather was a player of instruments, and Grandmother had always given the children singing lessons, so the children were well accustomed to singing for company.
“Marileth, Faelon!” two of the children, were summoned by a call to the kitchen. It was surely their duty to set the tables. The children went quickly when called. Even little Faelon who had quite a mind and impulsiveness of his own, for he always behaved when company was over.
“Come now, we have barely left the doorway, how rude on our parts. Please, might I show you the sitting room, Gilwen?” Narbeleth asked, eager to be away from the situation on the other side of the room, and besides, now here came Miriel out of the kitchen, her apron removed and hands washed clean, ready to join the crowd.
Miriel quickly saw the situation, Rosiel and Faeldor standing together, and Gilwen with her sisters. She felt rather pleased with herself for her own ideas. Pleased indeed. She looked to Gilwen, but then she chose instead to walk towards her brother and friend. “Miriel, your brother is quite the stubborn one,” Rosiel said sweetly as her friend walked toward them. “But I do believe he will yet come to his senses.” The woman made a step forward, her hands once again on Faeldor, and she kissed the man on his jaw.
“Do not touch me,” he told the woman, lightly putting his hands on her shoulders and pushing her back from him. He then turned without another word, and walked away, back to his lovely lady, and when he reached her he had a particular protective feeling, and encircled Gilwen in both of his arms from behind, pressing a warm hand against her stomach, and drawing her against him. It was quite a dramatic sequence for the man, as he was keen on propriety and had kept himself thus far from embracing the woman, but he felt as if he must shield Gilwen from those coming behind, and from the thoughts they might put into her head. He was unsure of what to say in this situation, for Gilwen had surely seen the way Rosiel had been to him, and had surely overheard some of the conversation. Instead he just looked down and seeing the flowers said, “You are lovely, sweet one.” Then he kissed the top of her head. Narbeleth smiled, and let Faeldor to take the lady instead, reaching down to lift Haliel into her arms and carry her towards the other room.
“Oh, come Rosiel, let us join them, I do think they are going to the sitting room, Miriel said sly, taking Rosiel’s arm and the two women headed after the others.
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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 16:54:01 GMT -5
Gilwen's heart warmed as Haliel showed that she would be eager for the young woman to return and bring her flowers. It seemed like such a small gesture, really, to bring a few for her. Still, one could not ignore the look of glee in the child's eye. “But look…” As the child swung around her braid to show Gilwen her ribbon, she smiled. “See, it is as if we have the same flowers." "So we do!" Gilwen laughed, fingering the ribbon softly. "And they suit you," she added.
“Haliel is our own little flower." Gilwen looked up to Beleth and exclaimed, "I can imagine. What a lovely young lady she is!" Kind, and gentle, Gilwen could tell that Haliel was a wonderful child. And, perhaps simply for her observance of Haliel's love of flowers, she did find it fitting. Her personality seemed as dainty and soft as petals.
"A song of summertime and flowers? My, that sounds lovely!" Gilwen chirped, as she finally stood, keeping a hand reassuringly on the girl's shoulder. She was not standing simply to get away from the child, and she desired for her to know this. The two other children were summoned to the kitchen, both rushing off in full obedience.
“Come now, we have barely left the doorway, how rude on our parts. Please, might I show you the sitting room, Gilwen?” "Of course," Gilwen spoke warmly. That was where Faeldor had said his grandfather would be, and she still needed to make his acquaintance. At the thought of Faeldor she almost turned to look for him, though caught herself. She was sure that it would not be at all a sight she wished to see, and as such had resigned herself to keep eyes with Beleth and Haliel.
Though, it seemed, Faeldor had found her. It had startled her, and caused her to jump slightly as Faeldor's arms wrapped about her, though as soon as she realized who it was she blushed lightly. They had never touched before like this, and it took Gilwen highly off guard. “You are lovely, sweet one.” It was followed by a kiss to the top of her head that Gilwen found comforting. She raised one of her own hands and laid it atop his, as he held her close to him.
While it was highly protective of him to hold her the way he had, Gilwen wished that she could see his face to see if he were alright. His voice sounded even, however, so she did not dwell on it. They began to move toward the sitting room, following Beleth and Haliel. His grandfather would be here. She took a small shaky breath before deciding that the night was not going to poorly. Speaking with his grandfather should cause her no pain, after all.
Or so she hoped.
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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 17:41:14 GMT -5
Faeldor sighed feeling Gilwen’s own hand come to cover his, and he tightened his embrace for a moment, leaning his cheek against her thick hair. He released his own emotion in a weary sigh, closing his eyes for just a brief second. Then these words interrupted him:
“If he finds his pleasure in a harlot, what can we do about it?” Miriel said lightly, the two gaining nearness to Gilwen and Faeldor.
Faeldor frowned, hearing the statement, and promptly loosed his arms from Miriel, taking her hand and leading her into the sitting room before the two women had a chance to say more. He would ignore them. “Come, let us have you meet Grandfather.” His voice was light, but his face was set in neither smile or frown.
The sitting room was probably one of the most lovely rooms in Faeldor’s large home. The ceiling was high, up the entirety of the second level, and a stone stairway ran up the side and curved as it came to the upper floor, a beautifully carved railing all along it. A large fireplace was set in the far wall across from them, unlit for it was summer and daytime, but perhaps tonight they would light it for the glow it gave. A carpet was cast over the floor in the middle, and there were two soft armchairs and a couch, all covered in a dark blue fabric, and a rocking chair nearest the fire.
The best part was, that the family did not only use it for sitting. The soft cushioned furniture was often moved to the sides of the room, and the fire lit, and Grandfather playing music in the corner, they would dance. It was almost as a ball of their own, for so many people in the home could make for a joyous occasion. Or at times they would sit around the fireplace at night and sing. Either way, it was a cheerful room.
More cheerful still, was the man sitting in a large armchair near the unlit fireplace. He was simply sitting quietly with his eyes closed, but when first entered Narbeleth and Haliel, soon followed by the other four, his eyes opened, and his many wrinkles turned to a smile to hear them. Melanir’s vision was limited at a distance in his old age, but he knew of who entered by the sound of their footsteps, and Haliel’s giggles. For before they had left the other room she had seen the way her brother had held Gilwen. “Shhh…” Narbeleth shushed her, patting the little girls back, but smiling herself. Faeldor had cared for all of his siblings well, and they all wished for him to be very happy.
Faeldor led Gilwen right up to the side of Melanir’s chair. The elderly man would have stood to greet her, but he had become rather weak in his old age. Faeldor placed Gilwen’s hand right into his Grandfather’s open one, and Melanir kissed it, and then covered it with his other.
“You must be Gilwen,” the elderly man said, a smile on his face, and his bright eyes searching hers. “Come here now, if you don’t mind stoop a little closer that I might have a look at you.” Faeldor’s empty hand had found it’s way to the small of Gilwen’s back, to reassure her at least. Grandfather would never say a word against the tender young lady, though he had heard both Faeldor’s praise and Miriel’s harsh words of her.
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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 19:48:45 GMT -5
The security that Gilwen felt as Faeldor had tightened his arms about her waist for a moment calmed her, though the way he sighed as he pressed his cheek into her hair caused her to frown for a moment. Whatever had transpired between he and Rosiel had certainly troubled him.
“If he finds his pleasure in a harlot, what can we do about it?” Bitter words from Miriel as the two approached. Her core was mixed with feelings upon hearing them. Sadness and a slight anger swelled within her. Sadness that Miriel insulted her reputation once more, and the slight anger that in doing such, had sullied her brother as well.
Faeldor released her and grasped her hand, quickly offering an escape. “Come, let us have you meet Grandfather.” Gilwen looked to him and smiled slightly, thanking him for the care he was taking to make sure she was well. They moved into the sitting room, and the servant girl gaped almost in disbelief.
It looked so grand! The rich blues, and the setup of the room were positively lovely. It was full of furniture that Gilwen had never even dreamed of owning in her own home. In fact, her house was sparsely furnished. This was quite a display, though modestly so. It was if Faeldor lived in his own palace.
She thought she heard Haliel's sweet laughter from ahead, though Gilwen was not aware as to what she was laughing at. She was to busy looking to the man who sat in the armchair aside the fireplace. He seemed the picture perfect image of a grandfather: a friendly air, and a large smile. Gilwen had only met one of her grandfathers, and he had died when she was young. Though the memory she held of him reminded her of the man she approached with Faeldor. Her hand was gifted to the bright-eyed man, and Gilwen smiled as he kissed it and held her hand. It reminded her of the way Faeldor would take her hands, and was instantly at a calm with him.
“You must be Gilwen." "I am, my lord." She said softly. “Come here now, if you don’t mind stoop a little closer that I might have a look at you.” Of course she would not mind. Faeldor's reassuring hand upon her back was not needed as much as it was welcomed. Gilwen kneeled beside the chair, smiling brightly and bringing herself as close to the chair as she could.
This was his time to study her, and make a judgement. She hoped immensely that she fared well. Undoubtedly her had heard Miriel's complaints.
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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 21:32:40 GMT -5
Miriel and Rosiel entered the room and saw Gilwen kneeling on the floor before the elderly man. Miriel smirked to the other and leaned in to whisper, “On the floor… right where she belongs. I should say, this is the first dog we have ever let indoors.”
Faeldor heard the soft muttering coming from his sister, but luckily he had not heard the words out of her mouth, for the string of his temper was shortening, and he was sure to burst out in anger any moment if he heard them say another foul thing.
“Well I say, Faeldor. That is the loveliest smile I have seen in all the Third Age.” The elderly man looked up to Faeldor for a moment, nodding in approval for a moment. Then he reached to cup Gilwen’s chin in his hand. His sense of touch was far better than his vision, yet he had no trouble seeing her loveliness, and even in the rough little hand that he held, seeing a bit of her ethic of work and care. “Soft skin, fair face, and strong hands. Faeldor, do take care of her well. She will be an exquisite treasure to you.”
“I will treat her well, and she is a treasure to me already,” Faeldor answered, smiling. There was no question or hesitancy in his grandfather’s voice, and Grandfather was one to judge a person well.
“And you… Lady Gilwen,” Melanir now started, his hand still against her face, and a thumb softly stroking her cheek. “You be sure to gift my grandson with that lovely smile often.”
“Says the man who is near blind himself… How can he even see her smile?” Miriel muttered again coming to sit down on one of the seats, causing Rosiel to laugh and cover her mouth to avoid an outburst.
“But I am not near deaf!” Melanir said loudly, looking sternly at his eldest granddaughter. Miriel bit her lip immediately, realizing her mistake. She should not speak as such around her grandfather. Sometimes his weakness and blindness led her to forget that his hearing was superb.
At that, Melanir took Gilwen’s hand and placed it back into Faeldor’s waiting one.
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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 22:01:42 GMT -5
The words that were muttered were lost, though Gilwen knew that sadly none were good or kind. Still, she remained smiling for Melanir. “Well I say, Faeldor. That is the loveliest smile I have seen in all the Third Age.” The young woman blushed slightly, though smiled wider. Her chin was brushed by the man's hand, and she patiently sat still. “Soft skin, fair face, and strong hands. Faeldor, do take care of her well. She will be an exquisite treasure to you.”
Relief. So he had found her acceptable for his grandson. Faeldor's response joyed her as well. Now, she would simply have to stay away from Miriel's biting tongue to keep her spirits in such a state. For a moment, the young woman wondered why she had been so nervous on meeting the rest of his family.
Then, the aged man spoke to her. “You be sure to gift my grandson with that lovely smile often.” She nodded and answered, "Of course, my lord." And she intended to, no matter what Miriel and Rosiel thought her. Miriel's whisperings had begun again, and once more Gilwen dismissed it, for she heard no actual words.
“But I am not near deaf!” It had startled her, really. Though she did not jump or gasp. She had not expected Melanir to be able to hear what she could not, when one way of sensing had been lost, the others compensated. Or so her father had told her once.
Her hand was placed back in Faeldor's, and the weathered hand the was tucked under her chin returned to the man's side. Her introduction was complete, then, and Gilwen slowly returned to her feet, throwing Miriel a sideways glance before looking up at Faeldor's face, offering him a gleeful smile.
She simply had to meet one other family member, and that was his grandmother. Though, she was no longer nervous for meeting her. If she was anything like Melanir, she would be kind, and gentle. Her mother had been right, mostly. She had had nothing to fear, save for Miriel and Rosiel's agenda for the eve. And at that particular moment, she felt that she could handle it, whatever it may be.
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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 22:30:55 GMT -5
Faeldor’s eyes were on Gilwen as she stood again, and before she looked to him he caught the glance he had given Miriel. It had not been spiteful, but it had seemed a particular look of triumph on her part. The man was incredibly glad for it; she would not let the others ruin her night, nor her introductions. Now Gilwen had met all but Grandmother, and Grandmother was so alike in personality to his own mother, that he knew there would be no issue.
Indeed, Meleth’s family were gentle in nature, and very forgiving of Gilwen’s social status. Meleth, nor his grandparents had not once brought it up to Faeldor in these last weeks, and they need not. Meleth herself had not once been of a status to be considered stately. Neither had Faeldor’s father. Faelon had worked his way to the top of the class with his fine skills, and Meleth had simply been the farmer’s daughter that had loved him along the way. Melanir and Tinuves had spent many long years farming the rolling hills of Belfalas, and only now had they taken up with their daughter and a different lifestyle, for Faeldor provided for them all. Status was nothing that troubled the family; well, with the obvious exception of one.
“Please have a seat,” Faeldor told Gilwen, beaming at her smile. Faeldor looked about the room. On the couch were seated Miriel and Rosiel, and Grandfather took one armchair, so Faeldor led the woman to the other, and gave her her own seat, sitting next to her on the arm of the chair. Narbeleth sat with Haliel on the other end of the couch, and Faeldor had taken his seat, his sleeve was tugged on by his littlest sister.
“May I sit by Gilwen?” she asked quietly and anxiously.
“Of course you may, little one,” Faeldor answered, moving from his seat to lift the little girl from the couch and carry her over to place upon Gilwen’s lap. Faeldor would do anything for his little sisters, and he could already see that Gilwen was affectionate with the little girl and would not mind. When he placed her down, Faeldor returned to his seat on the arm, looking down upon the girl and the lady. Haliel cuddled right against the woman leaning her head against the woman’s chest and sighing. The little girls thumb went to her mouth contentedly.
“Haliel, take your hand down,” Narbeleth said kindly. The little girl was far too old to be sucking her thumb, but it seemed she would not yet break of the habit without reminder. Haliel quickly moved her little hand back, resting it atop 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 Mar 28, 2009 23:04:43 GMT -5
Gilwen was pleased that Faeldor's face lit up so when he caught her smile. He told her to take a seat, though as she looked about the room, it seemed hard to find a place to fit her. Miriel and Rosiel took up two of the three seats on the couch, and she did not wish at all to join them, and she was certain Faeldor would not wish such a thing upon her either.
He led her to the other arm chair, and seated himself on the arm. Though, that was not how it stayed for long. “May I sit by Gilwen?” The voice was soft, and excited, and Gilwen smiled happily. Haliel, it seemed, had taken quite the fancy to her. While she would like to attribute this to just this one night, she had an inkling that her love toward her had begun from Faeldor. Undoubtedly, the way he must have spoken about her around the house had led this sweet little girl to adore her.
And she did not mind it in the least. In fact, she was eager to take the child into her lap, and as soon as she was placed there wrapped her arms about her firmly, and rested her chin upon her head. For now, everything was wonderful.
The family had begun to chatter amongst each other, and Gilwen was not sure how long they had been sitting in the room, but Meleth entered free from her apron and announced that dinner was ready. As a group they stood, some moving slower than others and found their way into an absolutely lovely dining room, with one large table in the center of the room, and a smaller table off to the side, completely set with plates and the like.
Aside from the Dining Hall in the palace, this marked the largest dining room that Gilwen had ever seen. Her own at home was small, for there were at most four people dining, if father brought someone from work, or Arien joined them. Of course, Faeldor's family was considerably larger than her own. As the family filed into the room, they began to span out, taking their seats.
Marileth and Faelon centered themselves about the small table, and Faeldor gently seated Haliel with them, and turned to once again join Gilwen. The rest of the family, and Rosiel begun to seat themselves about the large table in the center of the room. Grandpa took one of the heads of the table, and Meleth the other.
The food was displayed upon the table-top, still hot from the oven and stove. It smelt divine, though Gilwen had expected as such. Meleth was an exquisite cook, and the rest of her family was sure to be as well.
As the seating arrangements worked out, Faeldor and Gilwen sat across from each other, close to Meleth, Rosiel having eagerly snatched up the empty seat next to the horse master, and Miriel placing herself next to Gilwen, and beside Miriel was Narbeleth, and across from she, grandmother.
It caused Gilwen to fret for a moment. Though, it was not all bad, she mused. As she would dine, she would be seeing Faeldor's face. Perhaps Miriel had enough decency to let dinner be.
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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 29, 2009 0:04:31 GMT -5
Faeldor grumbled to himself for a moment at haven been taken from Gilwen’s side again. This whole supper idea had been to have him bring her here. He grumbled more about being seated next to Rosiel. All his grumbling was only expressed inwardly, though he had a bit of a pained look on his face. At least pretty Gilwen was across from him. He fixed his eyes on her, and looked at her for a long time as the serving began and all took their seats.
The meal commenced, and the heavenly smelling food began. Meleth glanced off and on at the table of children, but Marileth was well capable of making sure that the younger ones had their proper servings, and helping Haliel to cut her meat. At least, about the supper table there would seem to be a bit of peace. Miriel would not be able to speak to Rosiel across the table without being heard by everyone, so it should at least still their insidious gossiping.
However, at the first touch of Rosiel’s hand to Faeldor’s leg, the man’s pained look became one of anger, and his brow furrowed. He might not raise a scene though. He must be civil. She was a guest afterall, in the home of the horse master. And he did not wish Gilwen to see his anger. Faeldor’s own anger was very like that of Miriel’s, and most of his family for that matter, but he simply was much better at restraining himself and shrugging things off than his sister was.
Upon passing a bowl to Gilwen, Miriel had a slight contact with her hand. It was matter of factly unintentional, but it gave Miriel a start. “Gilwen, dear, what is wrong with your hands?” she asked sweetly, sitting the bowl on the table and lifting the girl’s hand up instead. “They do seem rough and cracked. You might take better care of them… a lady should not look as such. Perhaps not so much water and lye.”
She added the last sentence with a little smirk to her face, recalling the day she had given Gilwen her little bath in the lye water.
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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 29, 2009 0:20:53 GMT -5
It had begun civilly, for the moment that Faeldor's brow furrowed Gilwen had not seen. It seemed light enough in atmosphere, however nervous she was that Miriel was in close proximity. She took a glance to the children's table. Dear Haliel was so far away! Gilwen mused that if the young girl were here she would feel less lost and anxious. Still the bowl was passed, and soon it came to her.
She reached to grasp it, accidentally brushing Miriel's soft hand with her own coarse one. Instantly Gilwen recoiled, though not quite fast enough. “Gilwen, dear, what is wrong with your hands?” Her heart hammered for a moment, as she tucked her other hand under the table so as to keep at least half of her shame hidden. "I-i-i," she fumbled for the right thing to say, as she was held up, as if on display.
A few of the family's eyes had turned to her, to make matters even more unbearable. A flush came to her cheeks as she downcast her eyes. “They do seem rough and cracked. You might take better care of them… a lady should not look as such. Perhaps not so much water and lye.” Did she dare? Gilwen's head snapped to Miriel defensively, and withdrew her hand from her grasp and hid them under the table with her other. "Yes, perhaps not," she had responded civilly.
Though she was right. Miriel's own hands were akin to flower petals, just like her younger sister's. The only reason Gilwen's little hands did not feel the same was that she did deal with water and lye for hours at a time, scrubbing rough stone floors and walls and laundry.
And it was no way for a woman's hand to be. A servant yes, a proper lady, no. Though Gilwen had not the option of being a proper lady. She threw her eyes once more to her lap, hands now shaking slightly under the table. Had she no mind to give them a moment's rest?
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Faeldor
Man
Head Stablemaster
Do we walk in legends or on the green earth in the daylight?[Mo0:1]
Posts: 556
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Post by Faeldor on Mar 29, 2009 0:38:39 GMT -5
“Oh, don’t be embarrassed, I was simply worried for you. I thought you had perhaps been cut or scalded or something of the sort. Never mind my exclamation, I was simply just disturbed,” Miriel said after fair Gilwen had turned her eyes down and hid her hands beneath the table.
Faeldor agonized over the fact that he was not near enough Gilwen to hold her hands and comfort her. She was not enjoying herself, and Miriel was not helping the woman’s already low self image. She was utterly lovely, and she would never see it if people were to constantly cut her down in this way.
“Come, you do not talk so very much. Brother said that we would meet you tonight but I feel all I have met is your shadow. Do tell us about yourself.” Miriel continued to pry the woman into speech.
“Is it true, your father is a soldier?” Rosiel asked indiscriminately. Miriel had told her all such information that she knew about the young woman.
Faeldor knew that the conversation was in fact already taking a turn for the worse. He made himself responsible for standing to pour the wine for each of the adults. He did not know what Miriel had in store for saying, but perhaps the wine might dull Gilwen’s nerves at least. He would need apologize to her attentively after this night. What a pity! He thought that for sure inviting her to his home would be lovely indeed, but it was turning out to be quite the embarrassment for him. Perhaps the wine would dull his own nerves.
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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 29, 2009 0:54:09 GMT -5
Gilwen's heart felt as if she had been stabbed. Disturbed? She had known her hands were in a poor state, though she had not thought that they would warrant such wounds as burns and cuts. She wrung her hands together beneath the table, their shaking growing worse. And for Miriel to say she should not be embarrassed! "Thank you for you concern," Gilwen managed to murmur with a tone of mortification beneath the sweet words.
She could not even bring herself to look up---she knew her cheeks were pink. And still Miriel persisted, claiming that she was not lively enough to have made any conversation. Tell you about myself? Gilwen thought sternly. It would be of no great importance to you! Still, her face remained as calm as she could force it to be.
“Is it true, your father is a soldier?” The color finally left her cheeks, and she looked up at Rosiel, with a veiled look of perplexity. What would one such as Rosiel care about this? Gilwen had half a mind not to answer, for she could not predict what was to be done with the information she offered.
"Yes, my father is a proud member of the army," Gilwen finally replied. Her father was proud of his service, and his daughter would not deny it, even in attempts to save herself from whatever ridicule was sure to come. She could not dishonor her father that way.
Faeldor stood, and she watched with a quick glance as he began to serve the adults wine. This had not at all turned out the way she had envisioned it. Still, she was a guest in their house, and would do nothing to debase Faeldor's hospitality.
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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 Mar 29, 2009 1:24:43 GMT -5
Now that they had humiliated dear Gilwen, Faeldor did not know what to do. Calmly, he thought to himself. Perhaps it was not so bad. She had not broken down at the table. If Gilwen could handle herself, he surely might handle himself as well.
Gilwen poured each wine glass in turn, and placed them in front of each person amidst the table. At Miriel’s his hands were impulsive, sitting the glass down roughly, a few of the droplets of red liquid spilling over the edges and creating little puddles on the table in front of her. Miriel looked at the droplets, a little glint in her eye and smirked, continuing her conversation.
“Hm… the army. I have always wondered about the soldiers. Fael, he is not among the mounted soldiers is he?” she asked.
“No, I have not yet met him. He is of the foot soldiers,” Faeldor answered shortly, attempting to stay out of the conversation and to keep from offering information that they might use to abuse the girl.
“Oh, the foot soldiers… I see. They do stand about making lines on the field all day. Gilwen, does your father march and battle in pattern?” she asked the woman yet again smirking slightly and, urging her to speak.
“I must say, I enjoy the company of soldiers, but perhaps not the foot soldiers. It seems that all they do for entertainment is come from training, and go to tavern. Never find more passed out men in the morning streets than the soldiers. The Steward really does need something to keep them in check.”
Faeldor came to Gilwen now and served her a glass of the specialty red wine. After so, his hands touched her for just a brief moment before he had to return to his seat
“Well what other job might the illiterate hold?” Rosiel added, making the obvious observation that most soldiers were of the lower class who might not read or write.
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