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 29, 2009 1:52:02 GMT -5
It seemed to Gilwen that gentle Faeldor had truly been brought to his last nerve. And all over her, she was certain. She would have sighed, though it would have brought to much attention to her discontentment, and she wished not to insult any who had striven to make her feel welcome. The roughly set wine-glass had made it very clear that the horse master was not amused.
As for her response, immediately, Gilwen realized the predicament she had placed herself in as Miriel began to inquire to Faeldor if her father was part of the calvary or not. He was not, indeed they could not afford the proper horse to let him be eligible. So this would be about finances. Had they the money to purchase and keep a fine mount, her father would have been a certain member of the Gondorian Calvary, or at least Gilwen liked to think so.
Her father was brave, strong, and he always had an even head about his soldiers, and surely must have performed well on the field, for he was able to remain in work by training the new members. Surely the Steward would not sacrifice the training of the new foot soldiers when he was so concerned with Mordor?
Miriel's question, and Faeldor's response simply confirmed what the young woman was thinking. Being a member of the Calvary held more honor, for it was there where the prestige lie. Still, there was nothing dishonorable about fighting on foot. In fact, in Gilwen's mind it made him all the more strong. To fight from a horse gave you greater speed, and better chance of striking your opponent, whether they themselves were on foot or mounted. A foot soldier had to be careful of opposing calvary.
Stand in lines? Gilwen's mouth dropped open a bit before she regained her composure. If that was what they wished to call the soldier's drills, then so be it. It was none of her concern anyway. Miriel's next question seemed completely absurd, and Gilwen's hands fidgeted beneath the table once more, trying to regain control of her shaking. "He does march in pattern. Though, when in battle the pattern is broken if need be."
Miriel continued to speak, and as she did, Gilwen's hands balled into tight fists. How dare she imply that her father was a drunkard? She would have corrected the pesky young woman, but Faeldor had placed a cup of wine before her, and briefly touched her shoulder. It seemed like a small gesture, though it brought Gilwen back to her senses for the moment, and she bit her tongue, raising her eyes to Faeldor's as he sat once more.
“Well what other job might the illiterate hold?”
Gilwen's cheeks grew hot, and her face twisted slightly in disgust, though it was very short lived. Composure, Gilwen. She thought to herself steadily. They wish you to break. Do not let it to them. It was a horrid assumption, that all of those who made their home among the lower tiers of the city were illiterate. Her father was well literate, in fact, and her mother, too. Though it was her father that had spent the most time with Gilwen as a child to teach her.
Her mother would have loved to, but her father had always insisted. Yes, there were soldiers that could not read nor write, but it was not something one could blanket the entire reserve with! She bit her tongue, so as to not lose temper--and if Miriel and Rosiel continued, she was sure to draw blood.
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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 11:35:25 GMT -5
Gilwen may not have sighed, but Meleth did, a pitying glance crossed her eyes. The mother had no control over her daughter any longer, and if she were to say a thing in response Miriel would only lash longer and harder. At least she was keeping slight control of her temper about the children; control in the least that only the adults knew what she was speaking of.
Narbeleth was also quiet, on the other side of Miriel, her cheeks slightly reddened and her head low as she slowly picked though the meal. She also said nothing, for fear of making the issue worse. Not to mention, Miriel was would lash out at her later if she were to speak up for Gilwen. She looked to Faeldor incredulously.
Miriel was perhaps the only one at the table that sat with a smirk still on her face. “Oh, Rosiel, do not fret over that matter. There is plenty of employment in the city for the illiterate; the Steward sees to it that his people are fed. Men might be cotters of carters of course, or stone layers; that is an honorable job. And women, well, we are in high need of maids or servants.” Miriel looked to Gilwen, a glint in her eye.. “We should not have dear Gilwen here without a job. Who else might scrub the Captains undergarments?”
Faeldor was at his last here, and pounded table with his fists, standing up quickly. His chair fell to the ground behind him with a clatter, and even the children turned to look now, The wine glasses all shook on the table. “Miriel, that is quite enough!” the man said, his voice raised loudly, and leaning over the table toward his sister. “May your own mouth be washed with lye, and your eyes burned by it. Father would have sent you out of this house years ago for your disgraceful attitude.”
It was rare for Faeldor to speak of his father, leastways around the older of his siblings. The little ones would ask questions, and Faeldor would gladly answer with joyful stories of his own time spent with the man. But the older children were still sick at heart, and it brought them grief to think on the matter too well. Miriel had loved her father dearly, and perhaps it was after his death that she became unable to restrain her own impulsive thoughts and actions. She lost her interest in the horses, and the family that she loved.
“If you were not my sister I would have slapped you, for you well deserve such.”
The man had never laid a hand against even one of his siblings, and the thought had hardly even crossed him until today. He wished that Miriel’s pretty face bore the same marks that she had placed on Gilwen’s. He did not even reprimand himself for such thoughts against his own family member. She deserved whatever might come to her. The children were wide-eyed at their gentle brother’s anger. Miriel sat already as though stricken from the comment about her father. It was true; he would not have approved.
“If you wish her to leave the house; do simply say it to her, and I will go with her. I will be with the one I love, and if you think that Gilwen’s class should requite her your bitter insults, you are insulting not only her and myself, but your own mother.” He looked to Meleth for a moment, but the woman nodded, allowing him to speak for her, and he continued. “You know that mother was raised of the lower class. And your grandparents, who were the farmers that raised her. And Father, who married one of that family. You have insulted all of us.”
Miriel was seething, somewhere between her bitter anger for Gilwen, and tears of sadness for her Father. Her eyes were finally lowered to the table. Faeldor had a mind to leave now and take Gilwen with him, but he wished not to cause further injury or embarrassment to his own mother, who would surely be ashamed that her guest had to leave for fault of her bitter daughter. The man went to sit down, noticed his chair on the floor and lifted it, and then finally sat down heavily, finishing his wine, and reaching to pour himself another glass. His eyes met no ones.
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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 29, 2009 12:31:27 GMT -5
Everything seemed quite tense, all but Miriel, whose words seemed to only become more fluid as she seemed to gain momentum in her ridicules. Gilwen could hardly stand to stay so silent, though knew in her heart that speaking in defense of herself would simply make it all the worse. The minute Miriel began to respond to Rosiel, Gilwen understood precisely where this was going. Throughout her little explanation, Gilwen prepared herself for the inevitable: the insult to her own academic background. Tightening her jaw, and staring at her wine glass, she awaited the words that were on the tip of Miriel's tongue. “We should not have dear Gilwen here without a job. Who else might scrub the Captains undergarments?” Immediately Gilwen clamped down harder on her tongue, eyes burning slightly with unshed tears of frustration and humiliation. She could taste some blood, where she had bitten herself, though she did not remove the pressure for fear of losing all control.
There was the sound of a fist against the table, and a large clatter accompanied by a stern and loud, “Miriel, that is quite enough!” Startled, Gilwen finally raised her eyes to see Faeldor leaning over the table, defensively speaking on Gilwen's behalf.
It seemed to have taken everybody by surprise, for the children in the corner seemed to finally take interest in what was happening. It seemed quite unlike Faeldor to raise his voice at all. He was always so gentle, and tender. This seemed to completely go against what Gilwen knew was his very own strict creed of propriety--and yet, it did not trouble her in the least. In fact, she found her heart piteous that he had been pushed so far to act in such a way, and inwardly honored that he cared for her so much.
"I will be with the one I love." Gilwen's lips parted slightly. She knew Faeldor had cared for her deeply, but never once had he uttered those precise words. All at once her shaking quelled, and her brown eyes sought his.
Though Faeldor seemed disinclined to find anyone's eyes, and as he sat down once more, he averted his gaze. A silence fell over the table, and Gilwen uneasily shifted her weight, finally prying her eyes from Faeldor, knowing she was not going to be able to catch his eye at this moment. She had no words to speak either.
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Faeldor
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Post by Faeldor on Mar 29, 2009 13:24:10 GMT -5
The man was quite humiliated by all that had ensued, and upset that the situation called him to be anything but gentle in front of Gilwen. He felt her eyes on him, though he did not raise his gaze. Miriel did not say another word throughout the course of the meal. Rosiel sat silent as well, though she did consume a great deal of wine, and her cheeks were pink with the warmth of it.
Melanir was the first to break the silence of the table, talking to none of the adults, but to the children instead, at the far end of the room. “Marileth, have you finished your supper? Let us take our leave and warm our instruments, and Haliel and Faelon, come along, we shall need your voices.” Perhaps Melanir and and the children were the only ones that had eaten any of their supper, though the food was delicious, most of the family had been too startled by the course of language of the meal to do more than pick at it.
The elderly man pushed out his chair, then pressing a gentle hand to his wife’s, he stood and walked over to the table, stopping by the corner to pick up a little cane, of which was Haliel’s. He handed the cane to the girl, as the rest of the children stood and pushed in their chairs to follow their grandfather’s instruction. Marileth took Haliel’s other hand, and the children, started toward the door.
“Gilwen, child, are you fond of song and dance?” Melanir asked hesitantly, addressing the woman gently. Faeldor chanced a glanced at Gilwen quickly to see her reaction. He would not have her stay for such a thing if she was not entirely glad about doing so. Meleth’s children were well instructed in dance, as it suited them, but Faeldor did not know if Gilwen had the chance to learn such. He would not have Miriel find another way to humiliate the woman.
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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 29, 2009 13:38:38 GMT -5
It was almost overbearing, though Gilwen did mind herself and stayed in check. Dinner finished, as far as time was concerned, though much to Gilwen's dismay, she still had much of it left on her plate. She did hope the Meleth was not going to take offense. It seemed her appetite had left her early.
The silence was finally broken by Melanir, who stood and addressed the children in an attempt, she thought, to bring the gaiety back with the prospect of song and dance. Gilwen was glad of it, though she felt something gnawing at her heart. A feeling that this would not completely right the evening.
Melanir addressed her, kind words to make sure she was comfortable. "Yes, my lord. Quite fond," she offered softly, but with a gracious smile. Though it was slightly forced, Gilwen had not lied. Dance was something she thoroughly enjoyed, even if she never had a use of it on her own. Besides, Haliel had been so excited about singing earlier, that she really wished for her to have the chance to.
The prospect of moving about a dance floor would surely chase some of tonight out of her thoughts for a while. She had not but sipped at her wine, and her nerves, though softened still seemed pulled taught. Music would be quite the blessing.
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Faeldor
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Post by Faeldor on Mar 29, 2009 15:03:40 GMT -5
“Good,” Melanir said shortly, then followed the children out of the room. It was still quite quiet, only the little click of Haliel’s cane as she walked breaking the stillness. The children did not start to talk amongst themselves until they were some way down the hall, their voices muffled against the stonework. Melanir would surely have to speak with the three of them on the matter that had just taken place, and assure them that their brother was not angry with them, nor about to throw his sister out of the house.
Faeldor had all but stopped eating; he had even lost his hefty appetite. He did however finish his second glass of wine and proceed to a third; perhaps a bit much for him, but right now he welcomed something to lift the heaviness from his spirit. While he was at it, he poured Rosiel another cup, seeing as she seemed to be enjoying the drink as well. The woman thanked him by placing a hand on his arm, which he pointedly ignored.
Gilwen had agreed to enjoying music and dancing, but was she just being polite now? He wondered such, looking back up at her. He watched her for some moments, noting her smile. By this time in knowing her, he was quite adept to tell that it was a forced one. She was still lovely, however troubled she might look at the time.
A few minutes passed, in silence still. Faintly the sound of a fiddle and flute were heard from the sitting room, but the sound was muffled by the walls. Finally Tinuves, the quiet and cheerful grandmother was the next to speak. “Well, Meleth, let us clear the tables. Let the young ones down to the sitting room.” Meleth stood up, morosely, and Faeldor watched his mother as she started to gather first the uneaten food, without a word. It was not the food that upset her, for certainly people could not be expected to eat under such conditions, but it was the words that had been passed.
Narbeleth stood as well to begin clearing, but Tinuves told her: “Beleth, let your mother and I take care of it.” The girl placed the dishes of which she had been gathering back on the table. Surely Tinuves wished to speak with her daughter alone, it seemed. She looked at the others for a moment, and then took out down the hall. She wished not to be caught up by Miriel, for her sister was surely seething in rage at what Faeldor had said to her, and she would be sure to take it out on someone.
Faeldor finally placed his wine glass down. His nerves had been completely shot, and he would much rather leave the house than stay for any gaiety. But as much as he cared for Gilwen, he also cared for the little ones, who had been excited for the lady to come, and were ready to sing for her. And what would Grandfather think of him if he let his sister get to his own nerves? He walked silently around the table, leaving Rosiel waiting, and attending to Gilwen instead. He pulled her seat out for her, and offered her both of his hands. He would surely not leave her side the rest of the evening after all of this.
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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 29, 2009 18:56:45 GMT -5
As Melanir left, the rest of the adults stayed silent, and Gilwen's smile immediately vanished. For who would speak now? Miriel it seemed was churning beside her, and Rosiel was not even speaking to Faeldor any longer. Grandmother stood, to clear the table with Meleth, and had even denied Beleth from helping. Such a short exchange it had been! Words seemed to have left them all.
And poor Gilwen could not shake the feeling that this was her fault on some level. She knew not what had offended Miriel so, but something she had done must have sparked her anger to begin with. Gilwen strived to think of anything, anything at all that could have hurt the woman badly enough to make her wish to hurt her back.
And now, it was not just her. Poor Faeldor was a victim now, too. She studied him for a moment as he poured himself yet another glass of wine, her eyes becoming slightly sorrowful. He was being hard on himself, she could tell. The light glimmer in his eyes that she found so comforting was vanquished, as well as his wonderfully friendly smile.
He stood, moving about the table and pulled out her chair, extending both of his hands for her to grasp. Gilwen looked up at him for a moment with quiet eyes and buried her hands in his quickly and stood. Part of her felt selfish at that particular moment; she was eager to have his hands cover her own and hide them, and to comfort her.
She studied Faeldor's face once more, chewing lightly on her bottom lip. He enjoyed music so, earlier that day they had spoken of it, surely his siblings' voices would bring him cheer? Something told her that he was so shot that it would hardly please him as it would normally. She squeezed his hands lightly and offered him a small smile.
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Faeldor
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Post by Faeldor on Mar 29, 2009 20:29:44 GMT -5
“Starlight...” He started, but then recalled that both Rosiel and Miriel were still in their seats. Four eyes watching them. He would not say anything to Gilwen, or make any apologizes in front of the others, in case they were to find something to say on the issue. Faeldor simply stepped closer to her, and pressed a kiss to Gilwen’s forehead, and then drew back.
“Starlight… That must be what they call her at the brothel. Incorrigible sleeper,” Miriel muttered, well loud enough for Rosiel, Gilwen, and Faeldor to hear. Meleth and Tinuves were in the kitchen.
“What does that make me?” Faeldor replied sharply to his sister. She just could not stop, could she? Once Miriel’s mind was set, not a thing could change it, and she was not willing to change. Did she realize that she was not only insulting Gilwen, but himself as well? Had not her whole façade about hating the woman been about caring for her brother? Now that she could see Faeldor was not changing his mind, she was simply striking out at the girl out of spite.
The man did not release his grasp on Gilwen, but led her out of the room, at that, and partially down the hall towards the sitting room. Then he stopped shortly, and drew Gilwen right into his waiting arms, sighing audibly, and burying his face in her hair. “I am so sorry,” he muttered to her. “This was not how the night was supposed to be. I would not have had you here if I knew that it would be as such.”
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Gilwen
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Post by Gilwen on Mar 29, 2009 20:56:53 GMT -5
Her beloved nickname that Faeldor had bestowed upon her broke the silence. It seemed to Gilwen that he was adept in choosing the right things to say; every time he so much as murmured her nickname she felt beautiful. He stopped speaking, though she understood his motivations for doing such. Miriel and Rosiel's eyes were on them, and they seemed to burn her with hate.
Still, Faeldor stepped closer to her and kissed her forehead. Something that no matter what state Gilwen was in, calmed her. Though it's effects were immediately countered with another snide remark from Miriel. She had always taken great care of her reputation, for it reflected on her parents as well. Now, it seemed that two very loquacious young women deemed her a dirty harlot, and it would not take long for some sort of rumor to spread about her "indecent" actions. And Faeldor was correct; it would undoubtedly hurt his name as well.
She was whisked from the room, much to her relief. She did not think she would have been able to keep it together much longer. Halfway down the hallway she was pulled tightly into Faeldor's arms, and their walking ceased. At first she was taken by surprise. This was her first true embrace with him, after all. Though, with the way he buried his face in her hair and spoke to her softly seemed to break down a bit of the front she was trying so desperately to hold up.
She gripped his tunic tightly, and tried to hide her face in his chest, thankful for the warmth and care. She would have cried, if she had not been fighting so hard to keep a collected air about her. Still, her hands gripped at him all the tighter, as if she were holding her tears back with them, until her hands were shaking slightly.
"I would not have wished to miss tonight," she whispered. While Miriel and Rosiel had been absolutely dreadful, the rest of his family had been lovely. She could not have regretted tonight, for when would she have met dear Haliel? Or Beleth? Or Melanir? While it was true she would have preferred that the hurtful words had been absent, if it meant having never met the rest she would have gladly done it again.
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Faeldor
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Post by Faeldor on Mar 29, 2009 21:38:29 GMT -5
“I don’t know why she says that to you. I have only spoken well of you to them, and she sees you at work, she knows you are gentle. She knows nothing against your name, or your family’s. What does she want of it?” His questions were rhetorical, and he did not expect an answer. His voice was even, but it was on the verge of angry still. He tried to keep it gentle for Gilwen’s sake. She had heard enough of frustrated voices for the day.
“Oh, sweet one, you are shaking,” he muttered, and held the woman all the firmer. Her face was hidden in his tunic, but he tilted his head and started to kiss her atop her hair, and her temple, and just above her ear. He could not restrain himself, and he kissed her for each foul word that Miriel had said of her tonight. How could his sister be so vulgar to this sweet woman? He did not understand it. Looking down at the woman he could see the trace of bruise along her cheek still, and he got all the more upset, kissing her upon the healing skin.
Faeldor was quite upset, even moreso by Gilwen’s obvious distress. She held so tightly onto his tunic, and it seemed that she might cry. Perhaps it would be better if she did, she was surely full of emotion. He might take her out back to the garden for some moments if she wished. Perhaps the cool night air would tend to his own anger.
After a time, he muttered into her ear, “Will you dance with me tonight?” Perhaps the energy expended in dancing would make her feel well. If anything, he would at least be able to keep her close to him while doing such. If she did not seem so ready though, he would lead her outside.
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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 29, 2009 22:10:54 GMT -5
The questions he asked seemed to throw her into thought on the matter. Though many times since her first run-in with the young woman did she find herself on the same exact questions. And never once had she found an answer. In his voice, she could hear that something was still off. She would not expect his frustrations to have been released so quickly, for she could not bring herself to forget her troubles quite yet. Though, if she stayed with Faeldor long enough, it would surely happen.
“Oh, sweet one, you are shaking." His arms wrapped around her tighter, and Gilwen felt him begin to shower her with small kisses. It was as if each one took away more of the tension within her. She closed her eyes and slowly loosed her grip upon the fabric of his tunic until it was as if she barely held it at all. She sighed, a mix between contentedness and sadness. For she felt both at that very moment, though how she could not guess. Never once had she thought it possible for both of those emotions to exist together until now.
She just stood there, wrapped in his arms in silence for a few moments until he finally spoke again and asked her to join him in a dance later that night. She lifted her head to look at him and smiled slightly. "Most certainly," she whispered softly. She did love to dance. Perhaps the songs would be merry enough to lighten all of their spirits. More than this, though, it would be all the easier to keep out of Miriel's path and avoid further confrontation.
She looked into his grey eyes for a moment. She did wish him the same comfort he was gifting to her. Cautiously, Gilwen rose to the balls of her feet and kissed him on his own cheek. She did not wish to seem brash, and so she quickly planted both feet on the ground and looked away. It was, in fact, the first kiss she had gifted to another that was not related to her, and to show initiative like that embarrassed her slightly. She did not quite know how Faeldor would react, though she comforted herself in the knowledge that he cared for her enough to forgive her if it was indeed out of place.
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Faeldor
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Post by Faeldor on Mar 29, 2009 22:40:54 GMT -5
Slowly, the woman seemed to relax against him, and Faeldor was glad for it. Some of his own nerves seemed to calm as hers did. She did not blame him for the evening’s events, he could tell that quite right. He only hoped that the woman did enjoy the rest of his family. She seemed to utterly adore little Haliel, and he was glad for it. Haliel already loved the woman, and had showed her show affectionately. Narbeleth had as well seemed to get along with her nicely, and he was glad for such, because Narbeleth was an adult now afterall, and made her own decisions, which seemed much more well thought than Miriel’s.
The man was caught in his thoughts as he held Gilwen, and was quite surprised when Gilwen shifted suddenly in his grip. Ever so much lovelier than the brazen kisses of Rosiel, was the feathery soft kiss left upon Faeldor’s cheek. Ever the modest woman, she quickly retreated and looked away from him. Faeldor though received the treasured gift with a smile, and could not stand to let her avert her eyes from him as such, releasing her with one hand to place it beneath her chin, and return her pretty gaze to him. Perhaps his eyes were all the brighter for it, and they thanked her. It was the first only that she had gifted him with, and even the dourness of the evening could not take away his joy of it.
“Let us see to that dance then,” he finally said, as he reluctantly released the woman from his warm grasp. He might have stood with her the entire night, if Miriel and Rosiel had at least been not likely to come into the hallway. They surely would leave the dining room soon enough though, and Faeldor did not wish to be standing in any compromising position with Gilwen, that might give them more incentive to continue their wrongful taunts of calling her harlot and sleeper. What insidious girls they were!
Faeldor took Gilwen’s hand again, and led her into the sitting room. Narbeleth had already seen to moving the furniture from the way, probably with the help of Faelon and Marileth. He smiled to himself, imagining the clumsiness that must have ensued with the moving of such. Marilet was back sitting on a stool near her Grandfather, who was sitting in the same chair as he was earlier, though it had been moved nearer the wall. A fire had been lit, and the carpet rolled and against the wall. The room looked rather cheery, and perfectly suitable for dancing. Marileth was playing a few soft notes on her flute, while Grandfather sat with his fiddle resting on his knee, waiting for the others to join them.
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Gilwen
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Post by Gilwen on Mar 29, 2009 23:13:11 GMT -5
Her small kiss had not been received poorly by any means, and it relieved her immensely when Faeldor gently brought her gaze back to his face. He was smiling, and it warmed Gilwen's core to think he was happier. His eyes seemed brighter as well. It seemed for the most part that her dear Faeldor had returned, and she smiled gratefully.
It seemed that their time in the hallway ended to soon, though she figured that Faeldor was a better judge of the time Miriel and Rosiel would wait before they inevitably followed the rest into the sitting room. It seemed just as well, Gilwen mused. She was now looking forward to a dance; her spirits seemed to be in the proper mood.
Faeldor took her hand once more, and she followed him into the sitting room. It was the same room that Gilwen had come into earlier that day, though now it looked entirely different! So much room there was, now that the furniture had been moved back. And Gilwen had never thought the room small before. She looked about the room quietly, and saw Marileth seated with her grandfather close to the wall.
The soft notes that emanated from her flute were joyful, and added to the merry scene of the newly transformed room. She did recall Faeldor telling her the girl was gifted enough to be a minstrel. How exciting! Gilwen smiled over to her, and then turned to Faeldor once more.
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Faeldor
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Post by Faeldor on Mar 29, 2009 23:51:10 GMT -5
Gilwen’s smile had certainly returned. Quite lovely. The man admired her, and the soft glow of the firelight on her pale skin. It gave a warmth to her that reflected about the room… on everything he saw. What pure loveliness. Faeldor stood for a moment, raising a hand to lightly touch the woman’s cheek. The soft lighting did well to hide the bruise, and her silky hair with the flowers Haliel had placed seemed to shine as it had in the moonlight.
“What utter sweetness you are,” he said softly to the woman. Then he looked to his sister, listening to her warm up the instrument. She had surely improved over the last years, and it was
“Are you ready for the music?” Grandfather asked. Raising the bow of his instrument to show the two that he was certainly ready. His eyes were caught in a smile, seeing that both Gilwen and Faeldor now smiled. If only to keep it as such, he thought to himself. He was fond of the quiet and lovely young woman that Faeldor had found among the palace halls.
“Faeldor, will you dance with me after Gilwen?” Haliel called laughingly from across the room. She had already forgotten her brother’s show of anger, and was ready to be loved by him again.
“Of course, little flower,” he told her, smiling. “And yes, Grandfather, I think the both of us are quite ready for something cheerful.”
“Aye to some cheerfulness about this house. Let us show Gilwen what our family is meant to be seen as,” the man stated. “I do agree,” Beleth added with a laugh, grasping her little brother. “You shall be my first partner, Faelon. But I do hope Faeldor will dance with me as well.”
“And I as well!” Marileth said joyously. “Grandfather will have to play some on his own, for I do wish to dance as well.”
“Of course, of course,” Faeldor answered the girls.”
Faeldor’s siblings cheered him immensely. Though he wished not to loose his hands from Gilwen for the entire evening, she would surely not mind him to dance with his sisters. Rosiel by all means, he would not touch. That was a rude thought, perhaps, but the woman was utterly hopeless and he had no mind to encourage her, nor lay his hands on her, when they would rather be upon Gilwen.
“What do you fancy to start, Gilwen? Lively or slow?” Grandfather asked cheerily, it seemed that the lilt in Faeldor’s voice grew by the moment.
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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 30, 2009 0:15:12 GMT -5
Gilwen simply smiled as Faeldor caressed her cheek and once more showered her with a compliment. It was getting easier for her to accept them from him, she mused, as the night wore on. Perhaps she had taken his words to heart when he told her lovingly that she was to hard on herself. Even Gilwen was coming to realize that when one man such as Faeldor graced you with eyes of adoration and spoke of your loveliness, it was nigh impossible to think him false.
Melanir asked if they were ready for music and Gilwen's smile widened as she turned to see the man sitting lively in his chair with the fiddle ready to play. Was she ever in the mood for music! She shifted her gaze to Haliel as she spoke though and grinned upwards toward Faeldor. He assured the little one that a dance would be promised to her, and then told Grandfather the answer he had been waiting for. Yes, cheerful! Gilwen thought enthusiastically.
A claim was set from each of the sisters, each eagerly snatching their dance with Faeldor. Faeldor agreed, and with each new sister being added to his list, it seemed to Gilwen his smile grew even more. "It seems I am partnered with a gentleman of high demand," she joked laughingly. Of course she had no troubles with him dancing with his sisters, and fancied that she would love to see them twirl about the room completely merry with one another. It was easy to see how much they all adored him. Something Gilwen could clearly understand.
“What do you fancy to start, Gilwen? Lively or slow?” "I think, my lord," she began happily, "I would like something lively!" Now that her spirits were so high, she needed music to accompany them. In a room so warm, there was no space for foul feelings.
Faeldor would surely make his rounds this evening with the ladies of the house, though as she turned to him once more she cherished the fact that he would begin with her.
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