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 30, 2009 15:56:15 GMT -5
"It seems I am partnered with a gentleman of high demand." Faelor laughed quietly. “I have never lacked a dancing partner in this house of ladies. Neither has Faelon.” He watched his little brother across the room with Beleth. The eight year old was testing his own moves before the music even started, attempting to twirl his sister, who was much taller than him, about the room. Beleth was already laughing and doing the best she could to pass beneath the boy’s arm. “Do make sure you have a dance with that handsome one before the night is over,” he winked at Gilwen. “He is the only man I would not be jealous of seeing you with.”
“Lively it will be then,” Melanir answered from the other corner, and turned to Marileth to discuss with her their song of choice. Marileth was so well tuned to music that Melanir might play anything, and she would hear the pitch and join him. They still had their favorites though, and would probably start with such.
At such time, Miriel stepped into the room, Rosiel in tow behind her. Miriel had in her grasp a small lap harp. It seemed that she intended to play along with the others. This was a surprise to Faeldor, but it also was welcome. “Well, we’ll hear something sweet out of her yet this night,” Faeldor muttered near Gilwen’s ear. He had to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud. She is your sister… he thought to himself and tried quell his own spite. It was difficult though, and the mere presence of the woman in the room seemed to cause him to hold Gilwen’s hand more securely, and he simply stood with her, watching his family as they prepared for their dance.
Marileth glanced to see her sister approaching, and quickly went from her seat to acquire another stool for now smiling Miriel to sit upon. She glanced uneasily at her sister, sitting Miriel’s stool down on the opposite side of her grandfather. The woman sat gracefully, folding her skirts beneath her, and smoothing the front before placing the harp down on her lap, and plucking a few strings to check the tuning.
Rosiel sat upon the couch near Haliel, but ignored the child, and instead fixed her eyes on Faeldor and Gilwen. Soon, Meleth and Tinuves entered the room as well. The mother carried a tray of glasses and another bottle of wine. It was a festive occasion after all. Tinuves also carried a bowl full of sweet cookies to place on the table. The little boy’s interest was soon taken by the cookies, and as he took his sister with them to have a treat, his eyed him.
“Just two for the night, Faelon.” The child looked up to his mother with pleading eyes. “Three?” he asked mischievously. Meleth thought for a moment, and then decided that the young boy having an extra desert would not be the most horrible event of the night. May as well allow him the sugar and let him keep the spirits of everyone soaring. “Just this once,” she finally said, breaking down into a small smile. “But only if you will promise to dance with me.” “Yes, Mother,” the boy replied happily, snatching the first cookie from the bowl.
Just then, Melanir plucked a few strings in tempo, and the music began to fill the room; fiddle, flute, and harp.
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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 17:39:34 GMT -5
At the mention of Faelon, Gilwen's eyes followed Faeldor to the bright and happy young child as he seemed to be warming up to properly twirl his elder sister. It was entirely endearing to see, in truth. It seemed to make both brother and sister very happy. She looked to Faeldor then, and nodded with a smile. "I will surely dance with him if he will let me," she seemed to laugh. “He is the only man I would not be jealous of seeing you with.” Her smile transformed, though did not lessen in strength by any means. From a display of good feelings alone, it seemed to say much more. It was a happy promise, it seemed, that had found its way to her lips. "Then you shall not worry," she said quietly.
She watched Melanir then, as he agreed to play something upbeat and began to speak to Marileth. Finally, the moment had come. Rosiel and Miriel entered the room, the latter ahold of a lovely lap harp. Accommodations were made, and Miriel took a graceful seat beside her grandfather.
She had to keep herself from giggling herself at Faeldor's whispered words, though indeed she found them pleasing. It was going to be nice to be able to attribute something beautiful to Miriel, aside from her natural physical beauty. Something that could at least somewhat counter her personality toward her.
Rosiel, it seemed, was not going to partake of any joy from the family, and simply seated herself to ignore young Haliel and watch the horse master and Gilwen dance. It was highly uncomfortable for the moment, to know she was watching as such. Gilwen would not turn to look at her, though. She did not wish Rosiel to know she was bothered.
Meleth and Tinuviel entered with more red wine, for the Valar knew they still needed it, and lovely cookies that caught young Faelon's attention right away. As the happy boy grabbed his first cookie, Melanir, Marileth and Miriel began to play. Faeldor had not been exaggerating when he said his family was musical.
It did not take long for Faeldor and she to begin to dance. A saltarello. Fine choice. It was a graceful, yet peppy, motion, with quick footwork, and many twirls on the lady's part, and many lifts as well. Fleetingly, she wondered how young Faelon and Beleth were faring, though she would not take her eyes from Faeldor for all of Middle Earth at that moment.
It came as a second nature, having twirled about with her father many times when she was growing up, or even at times on her own. It was such a wonderful thing to do, dance. She was twirled here, smiling grandly, and then pulled right back next to Faeldor once more. He seemed to be quite a dancer, and this pleased her greatly.
There truly was no better man in Gondor.
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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 30, 2009 18:45:27 GMT -5
After arranging the glasses carefully on the table, Meleth turned when the dancing and music began to watch the young ones. Her arms crossed in front of her; her somber face began to turn to one of contented happiness. What mother would not be glad for her own son to be so joyous. She had often thought that Faeldor would never have interest in such as he had with this Gilwen. He was far too responsible about his work and family to have much time for anything else, and the sudden spark of interest gave her hope in her heart that he might be happy. Tinuves noticed the change in her daughter’s being, and placed a warm hand upon her shoulder as she began to hum along with the music.
Beleth had noticed the gracefulness exhibited by her own brother as well, and Gilwen was fine and lovely indeed. She slowed her steps until she was out of rhythm, and then stopped, watching as they moved about for some moments. Oh, they were utterly taken with each other! It was a marvelous thought.
Melanir’s eyes smiled, as he held the fiddle firmly against his collar, and the bow danced back and forth, as his grandchildren did likewise. From the side of the room, he could not see their faces, but blurs of jade dress, green tunic, and dark hair mingled as the two lightly moved about the room perfectly in time, and gracefully.
For the first time of the evening, Miriel was quite content. Left hand on the lower strings, and right hand strumming the melody. Her music was beautiful, a combination of triads and arpeggios, along with Grandfather’s rhythms. It was as if she were back in her childhood, playing solo whilst Father twirled Mother, and young Faeldor danced with little Beleth. She sighed a slight to herself, and opened her eyes, tilting her head up to watch the family. But behold, none were now dancing on the floor save Faeldor and Gilwen.
She felt her jaw drop a slight, and her lips parted. She was surprised. It seemed that Gilwen was actually a fine dancer. She had quite expected the woman to be inexperienced in such, seeing as she must not ever have a need to dance. She caught herself shortly, and found her fingers again, playing along rote while Grandfather’s bow led the tune, and Marileth’s flute harmonized. Pressing her lips together, she continued her song.
To save the two the embarrassment of the song ending with all eyes on them, Meleth smiled, and lifted Haliel from the couch, holding the little girl against her and taking to the floor herself while the girl laughed with her arms around her mother’s neck. Meleth twirled with the music and laughed as well; a joy filling her heart for her son. Beleth and Faelon followed in return and resumed the dance; the little boy’s face in utter concentration of his steps, while the young woman laughed and ducked under the boy’s arms to spin.
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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 19:12:11 GMT -5
It seemed that Beleth and Faelon were no longer dancing, though as the room blurred about her, Gilwen was unsure if this was actually the case. Still, it made no difference, she was far too contented with moving about the room in Faeldor's arms. He lifted his arm, and she obediently passed under, twirling about yet again.
As soon as they were back face to face, she felt strong hands on her waist, and she was lifted into the air, her hands planted firmly on his shoulders until Gilwen was once more on the ground with both feet, where their hold returned to the normal.
The saltarello had always been one of her favorites as a small girl. The lifts her father had performed were the highlight of the entire thing, for what child would not laugh with joy at being taller than their own father? Fondly, she recalled him twirling her about their small living area, it had seemed so much larger to her at the time, with no music at all. Just the sound of a pleased young girl, and a pair of merry parents. She always had dreamed of going to a ball in the palace. As a soldier, her father always received an invitation, though Gilwen could only recall one specific time where he and her mother had attended. They had finally been able to afford the proper clothes for them both. Gilwen had been eight at the time. She had clung to her father's leg, begging for him to take her, too.
"No, Gilwen. It will last far to long for a little girl," her father had told her as he left her with a friend for the night. Gilwen had not accepted that in the least and had frowned, which caused her father to laugh and lay a hand on her head. "You will make it to a ball one day, I promise."
She had never forgotten his promise. Though, by the time she was old enough to attend, she was working in the palace. She attended balls, though merely to wait the tables. She was able to see the twirling dancers, hear the lively music, but could dare not join them, nor watch the dancers well enough to truly enjoy them. A cruel twist of fate, it seemed to her at the time.
The others had finally returned to the floor, and Gilwen was turned and lifted a final time before the song did in fact end. She laughed slightly, stepping back from Faeldor to curtsy to him. It was, after all the proper thing to do when a court dance had finished. This was actually the closest the girl had ever come to being an attender of a ball. Yet another reason why tonight should not be ruined.
Gilwen smiled grandly. This was precisely what she needed. She looked to the musicians, all of them, and smiled wider in thanks. All of them, including Miriel were highly talented. It seemed a shame they could not be friends.
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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 30, 2009 20:27:57 GMT -5
As the song ended and Faeldor released Gilwen, he also stepped back and bowed courteously low to her, then grasped her hand and kissed her knuckles before standing straight once more. The dance had hardly even taken his breath, and was sure he could spin about and lift Gilwen into the air all evening; the look of pure joy on her face was similar to that of when he had taken her to Fela Isilme. His thoughts were brought back to the starlight and moonlight of that evening, and her radiance was quite akin to it. “Thank you for the dance, my Lady.”
Miriel only glared at Gilwen’s smile. If she hadn’t let her temper get away with her at supper, and make Faeldor so upset… well, she didn’t know what she would have done. But perhaps Rosiel would have been dancing with Faeldor. Her plans for the evening certainly weren’t turning out at all. She looked to Rosiel who was sitting upon the couch, alone and forgotten as well, with a dour look on her face. Why was everybody else so pleased?
The flute player could hardly stand to sit still while the others danced, and she looked to her grandfather for a release from her playing. He expected such and he patted Marileth forward, and she skipped out in her slippers and mauve dress to grab ahold of Faelon, who was much nearer her height than any of the others.
“Mama, it is my turn with Faeldor,” Haliel told Meleth. “Well by all means I should not keep you from him then, it appears that he has a waiting list,” Meleth laughed. She hesitated for a moment to take Haliel to the man though, for he was still standing with Gilwen, and she smiled to herself as she watched him step toward the woman and kiss her upon the forehead. Oh blessed Valar… the woman thought. He had certainly learned much from watching his own father, and he had not forgotten. She was glad that they had raised a gentle son, and surely Faelon would turn the same way, for seeing the example his older brother set. She waited some moments still before approaching them.
“You are an excellent dancer,” Faeldor said excitedly after he had kissed the woman’s forehead. She felt warm from all the movement. “I can tell you that I am honestly impressed with such, your parents taught you well.” Even Faeldor had his biases, though they were not meant to be judgmental. He had not thought that those of the lower classes attended as many dances. Though he was certain that Gilwen must have been to many balls, with the skills she held.
“Faeldor!” Haliel called as her mother finally carried her over to the man. Faeldor replied promptly, “I have not forgotten you, little flower.” The girl all but released her mother and jumped into Faeldor’s arms as soon as they were close enough, wrapping her arms around his neck, and her legs about his torso.
“Haliel! You shall fall doing that!” Meleth exclaimed, though she laughed at the same time. The little girl only giggled, “Fael will catch me.” Once securely in Faeldor’s arms, Haliel eyed Gilwen for a moment, and then whispered to Faeldor. The man raised his eyebrows, and then nodded his head in agreement, and a moment later, he had once more leaned close to Gilwen, and she received simultaneous kisses on both cheeks. One kiss little and puckered, and the other warm, bristled, and lingering.
It seemed that the music was starting again, as Miriel was strumming new chords, and Grandfather’s fiddle was making long slow strokes, and it was once again time to dance. Haliel’s eyes lit up, and Faeldor sent a further wink to Gilwen, before setting off about the room with his sister while she laughed in delight. Meleth wrapped a motherly arm around Gilwen’s shoulders, to lead her out of the way of the flurry of dancing feet.
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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 21:03:03 GMT -5
The time she had spent with Faeldor during that dance had been absolutely wonderful, and the bow he gave her sadly signaled its end. Still, she was warm with excitement. It was not often that she would dance, now that she was a working adult. He took her hand and kissed it, with the utmost of politeness and thanked her for the dance. "Thank you, my lord, for asking me." She replied cheerily.
She felt angry eyes upon her, though she shook them off. Harsh gazes could do nothing to her tonight. It had already been to much of a strain this evening. A mauve blur rushed from the musicians and grasped Faelon and moved out to the dance floor. The next song would surely start soon, and Faeldor had promised Haliel that she would be next to dance with him. She turned to face the horse master once more, and was about to leave to join the others who would be watching when he stepped forward and kissed her forehead once more.
She blushed lightly, for she could tell that his family was watching, though it did not dowse her smile in the least. He complimented her dancing and she gracefully replied with a hint of laughter, "Thank you." She was, in fact, slightly surprised that the dance had come so easily: it had been quite a while since her father had been home and rested enough to dance with her. Or that she would have been home rested enough to partake.
Haliel called over to her brother, and so Gilwen knew her time with Faeldor for the moment was over, though it did not bother her. The young girl threw herself into Faeldor's arms, and Meleth laughingly told her to be careful. Gilwen smiled at the woman, who seemed to have all but forgotten the dinner mishaps. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Haliel look at her, and then begin to whisper in Faeldor's ear.
He nodded in response, and before Gilwen turned to leave, she was caught betwixt two kisses. It was easy to tell them apart, though both were special to her. Gilwen was surely beaming now. The music had started once more, and Faeldor gave her a wink before twirling off with the dear girl. She felt an arm across her shoulders, and Meleth began to lead her away from the dance floor. It thrilled her, that Meleth would take to her so. All those years of seeing her in the kitchens! She had never once thought she would find herself in her home, a guest of her son. A son, that until a few weeks ago she had not even realized she had had.
What a pity. She could have known Faeldor for so much longer. They reached the small table, as if Meleth was offering her a glass of wine. Gilwen had not drank to much earlier, so she opted to grab a glass and took a sip, turning to face the dance floor gleefully. Marileth and Faelon were twirling about just about as gracefully as Faeldor and Haliel were. She sighed contentedly and looked to Meleth as if to say, "Thank you."
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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 31, 2009 15:42:28 GMT -5
Meleth had hardly time to speak a response to Gilwen’s sigh, before Narbeleth joined them. At eighteen, she was now allowed to partake in the wine, but she had been slowly sipping on the same glass all evening. She grasped Gilwen’s arm lightly with her free hand, and squeezed her gently. “You are an superb dancer, Gilwen!” she exclaimed lightly, and then looked out to the others, all her siblings, dancing in the lovely manner that they did. She glanced in front of Meleth and Gilwen to see Miriel in the corner. For some time her older sister had looked peaceful, but now her eyes held that unpleasant gleam in her eye. Beleth sighed dismissively and looked back to the spinning quartet.
The littlest girl enjoyed herself greatly, the whole time urging Faeldor to move faster, and lift her into the air. Faeldor was obliged and did everything that the little thing wished until at the end of the song he was so dizzy that he nearly collapsed. Too much spinning, for having so much wine, he thought to himself, feeling his head seem to whirl about as if the dance had not ended. He did not physically show such though, and just smiled at the little girl who had cuddled against him in the last moments of the dance, not wanting her turn to be over. “Do not fear, Haliel, you are still young, and I will have many more dances with you.” Haliel smiled, “And you will be lifting me in the air still, even when I am grown up?” Faeldor chuckled. “Did I not lift Gilwen in the air? She is very well grown up.” “You did,” Haliel smiled.
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Rosiel, tired of sitting by herself finally stood up from the couch and approached Miriel, passing the standing trio, and obtaining a glass of her own wine. Then she kneel carefully on the ground by the harper. Miriel looked at her expectantly, but continued to play. She would have had words with her, but Grandfather would surely overhear. Both woman turned their eyes toward Faeldor and Haliel, and then Miriel cast a surreptitious glance on Gilwen.
Her friend would have a dance with Faeldor this evening. She would see to that, and now that Gilwen was otherwise surrounded by her mother and sister, it would be a good time for Rosiel to take her turn. “Go now,” she told her friend, “Just take him, he could not refuse you. You are a guest,” she added.
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“Now, where should you like to go? Would you like to dance with Faelon?” the man asked his littlest sister. “No, Faelon cannot lift me like you do. My cane is over by the doorway, I shall dance by myself until you will dance with me again,” she said obstinately. Faeldor laughed. “Perhaps you might ask Gilwen to dance with you; she will surely lift you into the air ever as much as I did.” Haliel gave her brother an unbelieving look. “Well you are much taller than Gilwen. She is shorter Belleth even! I doubt that she would lift me up as much as you!”
“Nonsense. Gilwen is quite strong and I am certain she can lift you. One who works as hard and long as she does has solid muscles. And besides. You are much shorter than everyone, and lighter too, and that does not keep you from dancing!” Haliel thought about it for a moment, and then smiled excitedly. “How did she get to be so strong?”
“Well ask her yourself, little flower! As we always tell you, it takes practice to be strong.” Faeldor walked towards the doorway where the little girl’s cane leaned against the wall. He placed her down gently, and she took it up, and started her slow walk across the room to the ladies standing by the wine table. The man looked about for his subsequent partner; Beleth was next in line for a dance. He saw her across the room with his mother and his lady, and started off to go and collect her. He was glad that she was with Gilwen, both for the companionship of the lady, and the assurance that she was well adored in this household. And so that perhaps he might gift Gilwen with another kiss on the cheek before he set off to dance with his sister, but before he had barely moved towards the table, a slender hand had taken hold of his sleeve.
Rosiel’s smile was of sweet ruby lips, and her cheeks were quite rosy and warm. “Faeldor, I do think you owe me the next dance,” she said. Her voice was sickeningly alluring. Before Faeldor had a chance with a word, she detained his hands and started to draw him back towards the dance floor. “I am a guest in your own home, afterall,” she repeated Miriel’s words. Faeldor sent a repentant look from the center of the room to Gilwen. Rosiel was right afterall, it would only be courteous to give her just one dance.
Then, as the music started again, Rosiel drew herself uncomfortably close to the man, and placed her arms about his neck. Faeldor could not stand for such, and was quite astounded. The woman seemed heavily intoxicated with her wine; otherwise she would not have done such, would she? Perhaps she did not notice the way he startled though, for she held the man just as closely as he had earlier held Gilwen. It was only short moments before Faeldor attempted to pull himself away from the situation. Rosiel was too far gone though, and said, “Faeldor, you do owe it to me,” and tilted her head upwards to kiss the man full on the lips.
Meleth, watching from the side dropped her hands quickly to her sides. Narbeleth widened her eyes, and shot a sorrowful look to Gilwen, who must have been either tremendously horrified or hurt by such. Tinuves covered her mouth with a delicate hand, and even Marileth and Faelon looked startled and slightly disturbed. Both Melanir and Miriel stopped playing, the latter slyly grinning. It was obviously not Faeldor’s doing, and he had not a chance to get away from the woman.
Haliel approached the women by the wine table, and as she made her way directly towards her newest friend, she sped along on her little intoed feet. Perhaps she was the only who had not witnessed the event. “Gilwen, Fael said that you might dance with me! Will you?” she asked. Her little voice was saccharine, and her eyes were clear and bright. As the last word left her mouth though, and she came close to the woman, she tripped over her own cane, which she had placed too far close in front of her spastic legs. Letting out a little shout, she reached forward to grab ahold of Gilwen before she went tumbling down on the hard stone floor.
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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 31, 2009 16:24:56 GMT -5
A light hand on her arm, and Gilwen knew that another had joined them. She turned to see Narbeleth, and it greatly pleased her that she would come speak with her. Right from the beginning, the young woman had gone out of her way to make sure she was comfortable. "Thank you, Beleth." Gilwen chimed, taking another sip of her wine. Right here, with Meleth and Beleth around her, Gilwen felt comfortable. No fear at all in being rejected lay here.
She turned her eyes back to the dance floor, still smiling exuberantly. It appeared the entire family was well taught in dancing. Marileth and Faelon seemed quite put together on the floor for their age, and of course, Faeldor was spinning Haliel in whatever fashion she desired. The little girl's happy squeals and laughter made the scene all the more merry.
A shadow passed through her happiness, though, as Rosiel passed before her. It was amazing that by simply walking by, the woman had been able to drain some of the warmness of her heart. Inwardly, Gilwen sighed in disapproval to her own feelings. While Rosiel had made tonight difficult, her mother and father had always taught her to be gentle and kind.
"A true lady, Gilwen, should never become angry." Her mother had said to her those exact words when she was young and had become upset at another child for saying hurtful things toward her. She had often wondered how that was possible, and in times like these, it felt like it indeed was impossible.
Faeldor had placed Haliel down, after a short conversation that she could not hear and seemed ready to come whisk Beleth away. It was her turn, after all. Gilwen smiled over to the young woman and was about to speak on the matter, when it seemed Faeldor had been halted by a rather tipsy Rosiel, as she effectively commandeered the next dance.
Gilwen's smile faded slightly, and she turned and glanced at Beleth before taking another sip of her wine and looking back to the floor. She did not know why, but she could not take her eyes away from them twirling about. Everything in her being bade her to turn away and not watch, but she could not find herself obeying them properly at all. It merely resulted in quick glances about the room to see the others' faces or, to focus on the fire burning under the mantle for a moment.
Then, something happened that not even Gilwen would have expected from Rosiel. Her brazen display was accented by a well-placed kiss upon her Faeldor's lips. Her jaw dropped slightly, and a mixed expression of horror and hurt washed over her face. She had not thought it appropriate for herself to kiss him that way. It had taken her this long to brush his cheek! It was torturous, really, and Gilwen seemed unable to even think of looking away. Her heart felt immensely heavy, and her eyes started to sting from tears that she kept hidden. It was truly all she could take!
She did not even look to Haliel when the girl called to her, even with all her sweet words. “Gilwen, Fael said that you might dance with me! Will you?” She had heard, though could find no breath to respond. It seemed to all have been taken from her.
The only thing that had torn her attention away from the scene was Haliel's little cry, and a small hand grasping her arm, in which she held her wine. Taken completely off-guard, Gilwen's grip on the wine glass had been lax. With the sudden force of Haliel's fall, it sloshed right out of her glass and down the front of her dress.
She gasped and set her glass down with her other hand and steadied the girl. "Are you alright?" Gilwen asked softly, with her eyes slightly watering now. The wine had ruined her dress. Not even all the scrubbing in the world would salvage it. Her mother would be distraught when she returned home. And when it truly sunk in that her best dress was now useless, Gilwen would be, too. It had been such an expensive present that her parents got her!
Still, Haliel was more important at the moment, so the woman put her priorities there.
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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 31, 2009 17:13:39 GMT -5
After the shocking surprise of such warm and wet lips against his, and the slender hands behind his head pulling him forward, Faeldor forcefully shifted his head aside, and the woman had another chance to kiss his cheek. In less than a moment though, Faeldor’s hands were on Rosiel’s, pulling them off of him, and then he released them roughly at their sides, and stepped back. Rosiel stumbled for a moment in her place, and seemed as if she would begin to cry.
Faeldor was aghast, and it seemed that all of his earlier anger had returned; he wanted to yell at the woman, and to strike her. If a man had done such a thing to someone, they would be slapped in turn. Did not she deserve it? He held shaking fists down to his side, and he felt his family’s stares burning into them. He could not do such to a lady, not in front of his family. And even if they had not been there. He breathed deeply, closing his eyes for a moment to still his beating heart.
The sobs that ensued though, were not Rosiel’s. At the same time, the man heard his sister Haliel begin to cry sorrowfully. His first thought was that she had seen the event and been heartbroken, for the little girl hated Rosiel, and loved Gilwen. A child might interpret such a thing wrongly. When he turned his head though, he saw that it seemed little Haliel had fallen on her trek over to Gilwen for her dance, and the lady was helping her up.
Gilwen. Lovely Gilwen. His Starlight. She had certainly seen everything. The close dance was foul enough, but the woman had certainly not missed the end of it. Faeldor was ashamed that he had not controlled the situation and kept such from happening. Such a kiss was only reserved for her; yet not at this time. Though he had perhaps wished to kiss her in such away, he had restrained himself from Gilwen’s sweet lips. Though he was quite certain that she would have accepted a gentle kiss in private, neither of them were ready for such. Women were easily swayed by such physical behavior, and he wished Gilwen to know that she was beautiful; yet, he also wished her to know that it was not only her physical beauty that he adored, and that his motives were not wrongly placed.
Haliel was not crying for having been hurt though, for she caught herself well enough against the lady, but she was crying for what she had done. As soon as she had caught herself upon the lady, she had realized her mistake and saw the wine spill over her pretty dress. And after Miriel had been mean to the lady, Haliel had to still ruin her dress! All she had wanted was to dance! The little girl cried out, and was inconsolable by Beleth, who proceeded to grasp her from from Gilwen and lift her up. “Come Haliel, you are not hurt.” Narbeleth tried to soothe her little sister. “No I am not!” Haliel finally sobbed. “But I’ve ruined Gilwen’s pretty dress,” she sobbed. “She will hate me!”
The little girl could not help her exclamations. She was utterly upset, and Beleth’s urging would not calm her. Meleth had already rushed to the kitchen to dampen a towel and try to help, though she knew inwardly that the fine dress would be ruin. Probably her only dress, Meleth though morosely, knowing that the girl was from a poor family. At least this was want to distract Meleth from reacting to the other houseguest, who had fully displayed her obnoxious behavior this evening.
Rosiel stood stock still in the middle of the dance floor. Grandfather sat back and closed his eyes, and Beleth and the other children tried to comfort Haliel. What could Faeldor do now? The man was distraught of his own accord, and could simply watch at the women rushed about. He walked toward the commotion, and simply took another glass of wine, standing to the side. Perhaps the wine might wash the horrible taste out of his mouth.
He had brought a lady to his home to enjoy a pleasant evening, and this is how it had turned out; she had been insulted by his own family, witnessed Faeldor kissed by another lady, and now her dress was ruined. Lovely, lovely night.
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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 31, 2009 17:44:35 GMT -5
“She will hate me!” The little words were cried out, and completely tore the heart from Gilwen's chest. She was stooping now, and put both hands, comfortingly on Haliel's cheeks. "For an accident? Haliel," Her voice was calm, and even, forcing the tears back inside--once more denying them premisson to fall again tonight. "I could not hate you for such a thing!" The wet spots of cloth against her skin made Gilwen feel as if she could feel the dress staining.
She glanced at Beleth, who was also trying to console the young girl, though even with Gilwen's own imploring, the girl seemed to completely be inconsolable. She tried a different approach, though tried to be very careful to not lie to the child. "I have had this dress for years," she began. It was truth: a little over two years now had this been in her trunk. "And, it is not the only dress I own." This was also true, she had one other that was reserved for day wear, and of course her servant wear. "I am not mad at you at all."
Gilwen chewed her bottom lip for a moment as she tried to catch little Haliel's eyes. She could not stand Haliel abusing herself over something that, realistically could have happened to anyone. She lowered her voice a little bit more, and pressed her forehead to the young girl's in a show of affection. "Would you hate me for an accident?"
She hoped that from this close, Haliel could not see Gilwen's glistening eyes---the tears were constrained as well as she could. Though it was not over her dress she was tearing. Perhaps the girl would feel the comfort in the small smile she gave, and understand Gilwen's reaction when thought had been given to the question she had posed.
It seemed futile. If this did not work to quell the girl's tears, than Gilwen was entirely at a loss. Meleth had vanished, and Gilwen mused it was for something to clean up this mess. She glanced about the ground, though, and it consoled her slightly that at least she had not gotten any on the table, or the stone floor. She would have felt horrible if she had made a mess of Meleth's home!
She would have no dress for special occasions anymore. Gilwen examined the damage and almost sighed, though did not wish Haliel any more things to fret over. Nothing pressing was approaching where she would need a nice dress; it would give her plenty of time to save some of her wages to go to Arien and seek another. The part that saddened her most was she was going to have to explain it to her parents.
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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 31, 2009 21:31:57 GMT -5
Beleth caught Gilwen’s eye for a moment, apologetically. Haliel had always been clumsy, and she always would be. She had also always been rather dramatic and emotional, and that would probably fix with her as well. The little girl was hurt easily, though often the hurt was inflicted by herself, and her own guilt for being different. It was not her fault though, that she had not been born blessed with grace. She was just Haliel.
When Gilwen bent to the little girl, and came to forehead to forehead with the little girl, she stilled her sobs for just a moment. Streaks of tears had fallen down her face from shining blue eyes. She could not see Gilwen’s own tears for the blurriness of her own eyes, but she was still upset. Her nose was starting to run as well. “No…” she answered softly, when Gilwen asked if she would hate her for an accident. But after she had answered, she reversed back into her sobs.
“Oh, it’s taken her now. It’s been a long night for a little girl, you understand,” Beleth said; she was speaking to Gilwen with a forced smile. Beleth bent to pick up the girl. “Now, you need to go to bed,” she said softly to Haliel. “You are just tired. We’ll have to save your song for next time.”
By this time, Miriel had started over to see the situation, stifling a bit of her own laughter. “Now come, Haliel, it is not so bad. Gilwen must have another dress. It is quite lovely; black and white. I have seen it. Surely she can afford another for dancing. Am I correct, Gilwen?” Her voice was soft for the sake of her sister, yet seemed to hold an obviously sarcastic lilt that any adult would have noticed.
As Miriel walked past him on her way to Beleth and Gilwen, Faeldor grabbed her by the wrist. She jerked her arm. “Faeldor, that hurts,” she complained. He was holding her tightly, though it was nothing that should have hurt or left a bruise. “Go see to your friend, Miriel. Leave Gilwen alone.” Rosiel was indeed still standing distraught in the middle of the dance floor. Miriel made a little grumble after Faeldor released her, and started back toward Gilwen anyway. Faeldor stepped to grab her shoulder, and firmly stop her, stepping in front of the woman. He grasped Miriel’s chin determindedly in his hand. “Little sister, you will listen to me this one time.” His voice was no longer even, and beginning to reach the temper that it had earlier.
He turned his sister right by the shoulders, and patted her on the backside, urging her toward Rosiel, as if she were a small child being sent off to do her chores. Miriel turned and flashed her brother a sharp look. “Do not demean me,” she said, her tongue as harsh as her look had been. Faeldor’s brow was furrowed, but he shrugged to her. “Do not demean me,” was all he said to her in response, and he turned his back to his sister.
“I…should… be taking Haliel to bed,” Beleth said hesitantly, then quickly, clasping the child to her. Her sobs had become muffled whimperings against Beleth’s shoulder. “If I do not see you again tonight, it was wonderful to meet you.” The young woman touched Gilwen’s arm.
Miriel made a noise of disdain, and walked heavily across the floor to Rosiel, grasping the woman by the hand and leading her out of the room. Melanir made a point to take his own wife by the hand and lead her out, ushering the other children with them as Beleth and Haliel retreated up the stairway.
It seemed just Gilwen and Faeldor alone now, once again. Faeldor was feared to step toward the woman; would she reject him for what had just transpired? Would she be angry? She did have all right to be hurt. He felt as if Rosiel’s flowery scent was left on him, though perhaps it was just his own imagination. He turned his eyes back to his drink, sipping the last of it, and letting it sit in his mouth for a moment before swallowing, yet again trying to wash that sickening taste away.
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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 31, 2009 22:03:40 GMT -5
For a moment, Gilwen felt as if she had done something well. For a few seconds, Haliel had stopped her crying and had seemed to catch Gilwen's reason. The girl was far too exhausted though, and immediately began to cry again. Dolefully, Gilwen pulled away, just resting there, on her knees looking at the distraught little girl.
Beleth apologized for the young girl, and Gilwen offered her her own weary smile. Aren't we all? She thought lowly. Nobody would blame the child for such a display. In fact, Gilwen felt like one much like that was rising in herself, and she was pushed further when Miriel decided to finally stand and join them all, tossing pseudo-comforting words to the young one, and slapping her with their harsh undertones.
"Am I correct, Gilwen?" What was she to say? No, and the girl would know that what she had been led to believe was false. Yes, and the servant would be lying, and she detested that so! Say nothing, and ignite more to come from Miriel on rudeness. Say anything at all, and lose control.
Faeldor, it had seemed, stepped in once more. It seemed that they were to fight as well, and Gilwen just kept her eyes downcast, and closed. Things had been going much nicer, and it sickened her that now the end of the night should fall on this. It seemed the tension was tangible, so Beleth announced that she was to take Haliel to bed. “If I do not see you again tonight, it was wonderful to meet you.” Gilwen looked up at her and tried to smile. Though, it did not seem like it was genuine. "It was lovely meeting you, Beleth." Her voice was low, and seemed too flat to be truthful. Though, if there was one person tonight that she was sure would be a friend to her, it was Narbeleth. It was a pity she could not muster the proper farewell for her.
The room emptied, rather quickly, and she dropped her gaze to her lap once more. Faeldor stood toward the side of the room, and had undoubtedly finished his wine. The tension, to Gilwen's surprise had lingered. Neither of them spoke either---and it unsettled her more.
She raised her eyes to look at him, and took a staggered breath as the tears finally came. This would mark the first time that Faeldor had seen her cry, though at this point she could not stop it from happening. She was too tired, too drained to care if he thought her weak. She crossed her arms across her, to try and stop her shudders, and lowered her eyes once more.
Her cries were silent. Growing up in a house where it was too small to have anything unheard, one learned to cry without a sound. If one did not wish to answer questions put forth by a parent, it was best to make it so they had no idea you were bothered.
"I'm sorry," she finally whispered in between silent whimpers. And she was. For what had happened to night. For what Rosiel had done to him. For not being kind enough to Beleth in wishing her a fair night. For her own pitiful display, kneeling on his floor crying like a child. She hugged herself tighter, still trying to regain control. Though, it seemed to be a losing battle.
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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 31, 2009 22:59:46 GMT -5
Haliel’s sobs had been one upsetting thing, but Gilwen’s were an entirely different matter to Faeldor. He felt his own heart tear. Perhaps it was because before this moment she had contained herself so well. She was very well in control of her emotions, and tonight had made her lose such. It hurt him to think that his family had done this to her. Well, Miriel, and Rosiel. Rosiel was only one of Miriel’s little puppets though; for the girl had once been nice before his sister had corrupted her. It were as if Miriel had multiplied herself tonight, for the purposes of doing this to Gilwen. The woman alone could not break her, but together that dreadful duo worked well on their own ploys.
Faeldor seemed stricken, just looking at her for a moment. She was certainly not crying about her dress. That, he thought, was the least of her concerns, for what did a dress truly matter compared to other things? Faeldor placed the empty glass back down on the table, and slowly walked to Gilwen, lowering himself down to the ground. ”I’m sorry,” she had told him. He did not know what to do. For all his training in women, and even crying women, he was at a loss now. The woman’s sobs were different; for they were quiet, and made of deep gasps and shuddering breaths. She did not cry out though, and it was disconcerting.
The man raised a hand to touch the woman’s cheek tenderly, but when he felt the wetness of it, and the shudders through her skin, he was torn even more. He bit his lip for a moment, before continuing. He unlocked Gilwen’s arms from about her body, and placed them around his own neck. Then he simply picked her up from the cold stone floor, an arm behind her shoulders, one beneath her knees. She was not heavy for him, and it was only a few steps to the nearest chair, where he sat down and held Gilwen right upon his lap and against his chest, pulling his arms tightly about her. What was propriety anyhow, when one was so distraught? She must see how he cared for her.
The man hoped faintly that he did not smell of Rosiel. He surely smelled of wine, but in fact, she did too. It was spilled all over her pretty dress.
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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 31, 2009 23:32:31 GMT -5
His hand touched her cheek, though Gilwen hardly acknowledged it. She was trying so hard to subdue her shaking frame, and to stop herself from crying. He still did not speak, and Gilwen worried that she had done something wrong. She closed her eyes, and looked down once more. Though the thought did not stay in her for long.
His strong hands pried her arms away from her body, and wrapped them about his neck, and proceeded to pick her from the stone floor. While it did not relinquish her tears and quakes, it surprised her how easily he had done it. While twice tonight she had felt his arms around her, she was not aware of how strong he really was.
Gilwen was not sure precisely where the man was taking her, though at that point it did not matter. She was utterly broken, it seemed. He sat, and pulled her close. Another boundary that Faeldor was forced to cross from himself for her. It saddened her more, though she did lay her head on his shoulder, pulling herself into him even more.
She rested a hand on his chest, and once more gripped at his tunic. In a few minutes, Gilwen managed to fight her sobs back, though could not wrangle in her trembles. She was a right mess at the moment. She took another deep breath, looked up at him for a moment.
She could smell the wine. Half, she assumed, was from her own dress. Though Faeldor had certainly drank a few glasses himself. She finally brought her hand from his tunic, and touched his cheek. "Are you alright?" She asked, laced with quiet concern. Rosiel had abused him more than her tonight. It had driven him to grab his last glass of wine, or so it seemed to her.
How selfish it was to cry like that, when he had been equally as beaten tonight!
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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 Apr 1, 2009 0:18:11 GMT -5
Over some minutes, Gilwen’s sobs had quelled, but her body still seemed to tremble. She had held through a tiring evening, and such was understandable. The man just wished that he could do more to simply comfort her. “Yes, I am quite fine now,” Faeldor answered slowly. He should not trouble the woman, when she was clearly more upset than he. Then again, he wished to be utterly truthful with her, that she might see his own heart and not judge him for what Rosiel had done. “Though I have a fierce resentment toward my sister and her friend, of which I know will not leave me this evening.” The man did not even wish to say their names, such was his anger.
He calmed himself for the moment though, before getting irritated again at the thought. Though one arm was still tightly about the lady’s back, the other had moved, his hand resting upon her wet cheek, and tracing the tears down her neck to where his hand met the collar of her dress. Then, back across soft skin, to bury his hand in the silky hair, and draw her head back against his shoulder where it felt as if it belonged.
“I am sorry that you have been hurt tonight. But please, sweet one, do not take those horrible words upon your heart. You are far lovelier than my sister knows… even lovelier than the rest of my family sees. Though they adored you, they simply do not understand what a treasure you are to me.”
“I will take you home soon, for you are weary and need such rest. But for now please stay right where you are. I wish you to be right with me, and securely here in my arms. Look, the room is empty, and they have left us alone finally. I shall have you to myself for some minutes now if you will let me. All you need do is stay right here.” Perhaps the man had let the wine loosen him enough to say such a thing. It did not feel wrong coming from his own mouth though, neither did It feel wrong to hold Gilwen. Perhaps it was too much wine in him, but even through that, he was sure he would feel the same. He leaned back his head against the chair as his fingers softly continued their caresses within the woman’s hair.
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