Motherly Intentions [Faeldor]

[Faeldor]

“I am glad she enjoys it. Faeldor did notice her fixation on her hands, and I thought she would like such,” Meleth said happily, glad to hear that the girl had truly liked such, and that Niniel approved of her giving such a gift. “And we are entirely sorry for that dress of Gilwen’s. Haliel did not mean such, but the little thing just can’t keep her balance. She was very upset last night, but then she was also very tired. Oh, but I am sorry, it was such a pretty dress.”

“Oh my family,” Meleth said, smiling. She loved to speak about her family. “Well we did start off in Belfalas, my husband and I, Faelon was his name. He was the son of a grand Shipwright, who designed the Prince’s fleet himself. My father was a shepherd. But we did meet in the market of Dol Amroth, and I dare say he was just like Faeldor, and could not keep away from me…” Her voice held a lilt in itself as she thought on the days of her courtship. Faelon had been wonderful to her; whisking her away from her farm to sit with him at nights by the sea, and always singing to her, and playing music. The men of Dol Amroth were well versed in song and harp. “We were wed, and Faeldor was our first child, born in our home in Dol Amroth.”

“But Faelon was never one for ships; he was well knowledgeable in equines. And such it is that we did move to Minas Tirith, and my husband began work in the Steward’s stables. He soon worked his way to the top, a fine horseman he was.” The woman looked to the window for a moment, thinking of her husband. A wonderful man.

“And such the children came! Miriel, our beauty, was born soon after we moved to Minas Tirith, and then sweet Narbeleth, Marileth, and my youngest son Faelon, named for his father.” And this came to the part of her life where her husband had gone. Meleth was not so sure she wished to speak on it right now, for her memories at the time were happy. “Haliel is my last child. She is a sweet little thing, though she is crippled. “

“I do have plenty of children…” she mused lovingly.

[Gilwen]

"It is quite alright, Meleth, dear." Niniel replied quietly. "It was about time for a new one anyway." This would have been true if they could afford to do something of the sort for their daughter. Oh, how Niniel wished they had the funds to buy her a new dress every year, like some of the other girls! Sadly, with her position of care-taker slowly being rendered useless, she could offer no such income.

They'd manage. Her family always did. It was about that time that Meleth began speaking of her own. My, what a story! It warmed Niniel's heart, to know that such love existed! It was quite a tale. And with so many children, this woman had been amply blessed.

It did appear to be like father like son as she finished, and Niniel just smiled gently at the woman. "Yes, plenty of children. That is a blessing." She fell silent for a moment and then finished her thought. "Gilwen adores them all." She had spoken nothing but wonderful things for all of the children, save one.

And as a mother, she couldn't blame her for it; though she would not dare disgrace Meleth by mentioning her eldest daughter's actions toward her own. At certain points, it was no longer the parent's responsibility to make their children's decisions for them. Miriel's treatment of Gilwen had nothing to do with this wonderful baker. Niniel was absolutely positive.

"It must be lovely, to be able to go home and have so many people come and greet you," Niniel mused aloud, with a sparkle in her eye. She fondly recalled a few times when she had left Gilwen with a friend so she could take care of a few things from the market without fussing with a five year old. Coming to pick her up again...it was like she had been gone for days. Gilwen would run up and throw her arms around her legs and smile at her. It was times like those that Niniel had truly known that to Gilwen, she was the world. And the same when her father would return home from drills. Oh, their little girl had made them feel so important!

The woman had gotten lost in her thoughts and quickly cleared her head and returned her attention to Meleth. "Forgive me," she laughed lightly. "I seemed to have left for a moment there." She smiled brightly.

[Faeldor]

“Oh, it is a delight to have so many children. I do love each of them. Even Miriel, I’m sure you’ve heard of her,” Meleth’s eyes shadowed for a moment at the thought of that daughter’s actions, both the previous night, and even some weeks ago. Niniel surely would have heard of Miriel, and the dreadful things her daughter had done to Niniel’s sweet one. “I… I can’t hardly apologize for her. She is her own self after all, an adult that I can no longer control.”

Meleth didn’t know why her daughter hated Gilwen so. She had not even the slightest inkling toward what it was that earned her loathing. She just hoped that she would stop being so difficult shortly. Perhaps Faeldor’s outburst at her the night before would still her tongue. At least, she hoped. If not her tongue, perhaps her actions… oh that day with the lye water. So disgraceful.


She did sigh as Niniel mentioned the joy in the size of a large household. “It is lovely to have so many at home. And my parents live with us now as well. They are quite the help to me. And it is always cheery with so many about. I think I never would have made it after Faelon’s death without the children all around me. And little Haliel to look after. A mother should never be glad for their child to have such a handicap as Haliel does, but she is a life consuming little thing. It is comforting to care for her; and though I would love her to grow and find love and marry, it is also comforting to know that she probably will not, and she will be with me all the days after my other children are gone.”

Meleth was thoughtful; she had not voiced such thoughts aloud to anyone before, but she had seemed to start off with Niniel so well, and Niniel seemed so eager to listen. It was good to speak with someone while working. Meleth had already mixed together another dough and was currently kneading and kneading away as she spoke.

[Gilwen]

"I have heard about her," Niniel nodded in acknowledgment. Miriel had been the one to strike her daughter, after all. It was curious, to see that she had turned out so differently from the rest of her family. Faeldor and Meleth both had hearts that seemed to be made up of pure gold. They were indeed people to be coveted and recognized. It was not often that you could find such good hearted people in the White City as the days seemed to grow dark and dangerous.

"There is nothing for you to apologize for," Niniel added. "Neither I nor Beregar hold you accountable. Things happen, after all." It was a sad fact of life that those who lived on the lower tiers of the city were bound to find opposition in the smallest ways that could make trivial things quite the task to handle.

It was not too ridiculous to think of someone, pleasantly secure in the upper class to wish to keep her family in that state of comfort. Miriel probably thought she was doing her family a favor. It was no pleasant way to live, struggling. Niniel was certain that Miriel just didn't want her family to struggle, too. Perhaps she was doing what was clearly an awful deed for what the girl deemed honorable reasons.

She smiled at Meleth as she voiced her adoration of Haliel. "I can understand," she murmured. Niniel knew that the minute Gilwen was married, she would have nobody in the house to look after anymore. Beregar was never home, he was always training and in truth, Gilwen provided for herself well. It would certainly be lonely about the house, though, without her daughter.

"But with marriage comes other opportunities for joy, like grandchildren!" Niniel exclaimed happily, the glitter coming back into her eyes. Oh yes. The true joys of her daughter growing up! Though, at five and twenty, her daughter would be a bit pressed for time.

[Faeldor]

“Grandchildren!” Meleth exclaimed. “I should like to think of the amount of grandchildren I will have someday. A house full of little young ones come to visit. Oh…” the lady just realized what she was exclaiming, and caught herself. Gilwen and Faeldor, they were speaking of, of course.

Meleth had children who were still little of their own accord, but not babies at least! Little babies to fill the house again would be the most blessed thing.

“They will certainly be wed. And I wonder how long it will be. There is no telling with Faeldor, when he will do things. But it has only been some weeks, and I am certain that he is already fully in love with her. Oh, I hope he should tell me. We shall arrange a lovely gathering to celebrate,” Meleth mused.

“Oh… those two, they are so fair together, they will have such beautiful children…” Meleth grinned. “I do wonder what they will look like. Dark haired and beautiful I am sure. Lovely little things… I am very much excited for such. “And how many, I wonder. Sweet darlings. Oh, I am ever so excited!”

The thought of little bundles of joy filled Meleth nearly to the brim, and her eyes were bright. What a joy it would be! There was nothing in the woman’s eyes now to keep her from believing that all of this would certainly happen. She would look even more fondly on Gilwen when next she saw her, and it would be difficult for her to keep from bringing up this topic.

[Gilwen]

"They will certainly be wed." Those words echoed pleasantly in Niniel's mind, and she smiled widely. Oh, it was so pleasing to know that they both felt the same way! Gilwen would surely not think she was too eager for the two of them if she knew Meleth felt the same way! "As is Gilwen, I am certain. There is nobody in all of Gondor who she cares for greater than him."

A lovely gathering? Niniel's eyes seemed swept away, as if she were imagining it there and then. Oh, her daughter would look so lovely in a wedding dress! There. Niniel's smile became subdued as she finished her thought. How are we to afford such a gown for her? After pondering it a moment, it was chased out of her head by Meleth's mentioning of the children that Faeldor and Gilwen would surely bear.

"Oh, dark hair is certain! I do hope at least one of them has light eyes like your son's. I know Gilwen would want that too, the way she thinks of them herself." Niniel mused lovingly, for a moment seeing little toddlers running about. Not that she would want her daughter's eyes lost, of course. Simply an even mix.

"How many is indeed the question. Gilwen is so small, I imagine about two." Niniel's eyes glittered a bit. "Though, I think she would care for more." Or perhaps it was she who would care for more. At least three. That was a good sized family. And one that would be feasible for a woman of Gilwen's age to have.

Yes. It would please her immensely to have three. "I am certain that I understand you excitement!" Niniel beamed. Oh, it was a good thing Gilwen was not here to hear this. She would have surely been flustered and embarrassed. Niniel didn't entirely understand why. After all, it was a natural thing to do. Children were so precious.

---

All the while Gilwen had been tidying the servant's supply quarter, a sickening feeling had been growing in her stomach. It worried her so that Meleth had offered Niniel a chair! Her mind was hardly focused on her work, and in the silence, all she could do was dwell on the horrific things that might come up in conversation.

She finally could take it no longer, and put down the object she was working with, and turned to another one of the girls. "I shall return shortly," she murmured, walking out of the door, and then racing down the hall.

Oh please, Mama. Don't have said anything too dreadful. She pleaded as she worked her way into the kitchen.

“Oh… those two, they are so fair together, they will have such beautiful children…” This halted her at the door to the bakery, and her face grew quite pale. That had not been her mother's voice at all. She slowly opened the door, though the adults seemed not to notice or mind her. ""How many is indeed the question. Gilwen is so small, I imagine about two." Her mother's reply warranted a rather horrified response.

Her cheeks had turned as red as the could possibly be, her face having paled otherwise. "Mama!" She was dumbstruck, standing halfway into the bakery feeling entirely ill in distress.

[Faeldor]

"Oh, dark hair is certain! I do hope at least one of them has light eyes like your son's. I know Gilwen would want that too, the way she thinks of them herself." Pretty grey-eyed children, yes, that would be lovely. Meleth had always adored Faeldor’s eyes; they were that of his father, and most of her children had grey eyes; against the blue of Haliel’s, and the green of Miriel’s. “And another should have brown at least. Gilwen’s eyes are so pretty; they do remind me of a lovely little fawn. And this will be the first that our family has gone outside the line of Dol Amroth. None have ever had such lovely brown eyes.

Then Ninel commented on the size of the family. Two at most. It did seem a likely number. Meleth mused on the comment; yes, she was quite a small girl, and she was getting older. It seemed that she had waited a time to find herself a suitor, though Meleth was glad for the little girl to be with her son. “She must be careful, for to try and have too many children at her size and age would be a risk to her. We must remember, she is a bit older than most. I was pregnant with my first at the age of seventeen.”

Two was quite a good number, Niniel was correct. For Gilwen’s little frame, and the age at which she would start, she would not have many, nor should she. Meleth had carried both Faelon II and Haliel at a later age in life, and had risked herself as such. Though, she would never take back those children, even if it called her all ill health. The birth of Haliel was her joy, and her way to go onward after her husband’s death.

Her thoughts barely through her mind, she heard a meet exclamation, “Mama!” The woman looked up to the doorway, and surely standing there was the little girl herself, of which they had been talking about. Oh, she must have overheard part of their conversation! They indeed had said nothing ill against her after all, but she did understand that it might be unsettling for her to hear them talking about her children. After all, they were not wed yet. To speak of children implied such behaviors of married couples; Meleth almost giggled to herself, but managed to keep her face straight.

“Gilwen, do come in; the cinnamon rolls are almost done. Would you like one fresh from the oven, dear?” Meleth asked her kindly.

[Gilwen]

“Oh, hello, dear.” Niniel exclaimed, pleasantly surprised that her daughter had shown up in the bakery herself. “We were just speaking of you!” It didn’t phase her at all that her daughter seemed so mortified---for there was no reason for such a feeling.

She must be careful, for to try and have too many children at her size and age would be a risk to her. We must remember, she is a bit older than most. I was pregnant with my first at the age of seventeen.”

Gilwen’s heart sunk even deeper hearing that, and she chewed her bottom lip. They were certainly speaking of her, and her age. The color probably had increased in her cheeks, too. Her age was something she was concerned about herself, though she would never have said such out loud.

She was offered a cinnamon roll, but the girl’s stomach hardly felt as if she could handle eating anything at the moment. She looked to Meleth blankly for a moment, trying to compose herself. Was she worried about her age? “No thank you, milady.” She finally murmured. She turned her eyes away, and began shaking from her nerves ever so slightly. Her mother was so insistent.

It would surely drive Faeldor away if he knew her mother was already planning their children. Goodness, she had only known him three weeks or so. She didn’t think it proper to begin pestering poor Faeldor about marriage and children. Pressure was surely not something that would help them.

She blushed even deeper. It seemed to Gilwen she had just admitted to herself that she, too, could see marriage to him. One shouldn’t feel that way! Not with propriety, at least. Oh, how was she supposed to see him today for her break, knowing good and well their parents were discussing the number of children they were to have and the eye colors they were going to have?

While on some level, Gilwen was happy that Meleth would approve of having her in the family, she couldn't fight past the idea that it was not something she wished discussed, or at least with her knowledge. She had known from the beginning that Niniel would complicate matters.

And all she was doing was smiling so grandly. "Are you on break then, Gilwen?" Her mother asked inquisitively. "My, it seems that time has surely flown by!"

No, she wasn't on break. Merely checking the damage done by her dear Niniel. Though, now that she had heard it, Gilwen was not sure it had been such a good idea to come check up on them. She just stayed silent, her hands nervously wringing one another. How was she to explain this to Faeldor?

[Faeldor]

Oh, poor Gilwen had been dreadfully embarrassed; it was not difficult to pick up on the bright rosy cheeks. She declined the invitation for a fresh baked sweet roll, and Meleth frowned. “There now, Gilwen, are you well?” she asked, as the girl seemed to tremble slightly.

She supposed it could be an embarrassing conversation; one’s own mother sitting and discussing such matters as babies and marriage with another. Meleth was not troubled to think of Faeldor as married, and Niniel obviously would not be upset with Gilwen being such. Poor girl though. Meleth frowned; perhaps her observations the night before had misled her, and the two were not so fond of each other afterall.

“Your mother and I were having a splendid time chatting… I hope you are not upset. It does seem that she adores my own son as much as I adore you. We have no objections…” she said. Perhaps she thought that they were questioning the young couple. Indeed, they were not.

Oh, no, she was just overthinking all of this. Two would not sit as such together if it would have been otherwise. Nor would he have kissed her as such after their dance, or spoken up for her at the meal. Faeldor was utterly in love with the girl. Perhaps though, Gilwen was on different accord. She was a mild girl, perhaps she had not wished to be held as Faeldor held her? But no, that seemed a falsity as well, for she would not have allowed it if it was offensive to her; and she would not have held her head upon his shoulder, or clung as so to his tunic.

Meleth was a bit more uneasy now, the poor girl, they had not meant to embarrass her. Meleth did not often have visitors to sit with her while she worked, and had thoroughly been enjoying Niniel and their conversation. The girl was looking away from them, wringing her hands.

“Would you like some water then, dear?” Meleth asked her finally. Oh, what could she say now? She could not very well apologize for their words, because she had not been the only one speaking, and it would offend Niniel if she said so. She would need to catch her alone later to say as such.

The woman doubted that Faeldor would have been as affected by this as she; he simply would have laughed at the two mothers, she felt, and even perhaps joked along with them. Bantering about naming and eye color and other such things.

[Gilwen]

For a moment Gilwen fumbled for words, though she finally found them. "I am fine, Meleth, thank you." She stated, looking at the woman's facial expression quite intently. It seemed that on some level, Gilwen's reaction had troubled the kind woman and Gilwen had surely meant no harm!

"Of course dear, no objections at all!" Niniel exclaimed, happily, looking to her daughter. She did not expect Gilwen to take to hearing such conversations immediately. She was so incredibly shy about herself, after all. With time, though, her daughter was soon to grow accustomed to it. "Gilwen, darling, would you like to sit down?" The woman stood and motioned her daughter toward the stool.

"No, Mama. I am fine." The servant girl responded quietly, trying desperately to quell the burning in her cheeks. It was going to be fine. Nobody would have heard. She told herself flatly. Faeldor doesn't have to know. She repeated these two sentences in her head until enough of the color had gone from her cheeks so that she could bear looking at the two women again. She was offered water, but she politely declined. "No, thank you. I should be getting back to work, really. I am not quite on break." The young woman's brown eyes glanced at Niniel once more, and she began to retreat.

"What do you think, dear? Would you rather grey-eyed or brown-eyed children?" Niniel called after her.

Gilwen froze and turned back to them, her shaking still slightly noticeable. She did not want to admit to either of them that she was so striken by Faeldor that she would be confident in speaking of their children. It seemed that it was none of her mother's concern anyway. Deep down, though, Gilwen knew her answer.

She looked back to her mother and smiled slightly, "I imagine I will see you both on my break." She turned and closed the door quietly, and rushed to leave the kitchens. She had to make it back to the servant's quarter to finish her tidying, and it was almost time for Faeldor to make his morning trip to the bakery. After hearing such a conversation, Gilwen was sure that upon seeing him all she would only be able to think of his children, something that would surely cause Gilwen's cheeks to redden uncontrollably. He would surely think her too attached, or mad. Perhaps both. No, it was best to avoid it if she could. At least today.

Niniel shook her head slightly. "I do apologize for that, Meleth. She is quite a shy girl. I know that she is embarrassed by simply adoring your son as much as she does." She turned her eyes back to the baker and laughed. "She used to be quite the opposite, though. When she was younger." Such a timid young woman her daughter had become.

So timid, that it had prevented her from having any suitors at all until Faeldor. Though, now that she had met him herself, Niniel was sure that it was worth her daughter's wait, and her own wait for grandchildren.

[Faeldor]

Gilwen had seemed to fumble with herself; declining food, water, and seating. She was surely uncomfortable in her current situation, and it seemed that she was trying to make an escape for the door. Retreating, as it was. Niniel asked her, for humor, or to lighten the situation perhaps, which colored eyes she would prefer. It only seemed to make the girls cheeks turn from rose to red, and she left quickly, saying that she would see them later.

“Poor dear,” Meleth said in response to Niniel, after Gilwen had rushed out of the room. “No apology is necessary, Niniel. She will come around from it I’m sure. An do just think;” The woman laughed slightly now, lowering her voice again. “It would not have made her blush so if she had not thought the very same things that we had said.”

“It’s true though, I’ve seen the ladies that work here be changed by such. Only the ones that are quiet and invisible stay for so long as Gilwen has. Ten years Faeldor said. She was just a child when she started; it’s easy to lose one’s childhood and joyous manners when you are constantly under strict order to be silent and respectful,” she said thoughtfully. Poor dear; had lost her childhood!

“But I tell you, the glint that shone in her eyes as Faeldor danced with her, and that smile. It will come back to her. There is nothing better than love to bring joy and liveliness.”

“And I do think that she would have said ‘grey eyes’,” the woman mused lovingly.

Meleth laughed lightly, pulling the pan of cinnamon rolls from the oven and letting them to cool on the counter , as she began to make the bread dough for the noon meal. The shy thing would come around eventually, and she would be glad to speak of such things, and to gain advice from experienced women.


---

Faeldor had worked long, and by sure, stressful, morning. But now was his time for break, and as he went he headed up toward the palace. Not only would he see his mother and gain a delicious brunch, but he would also find pretty Gilwen, and he would kiss her, even while she was working.

The man grinned happily to himself as he left his stable duties behind and climbed the stair to the palace. The walk home with her the previous night had been just lovely. They had taken their time for sure, and even when they had come near the house, before they came into view of it, of course, he had stopped her again, and they had spent some lovely last minutes in conversation before letting her go back to her parents. He would be glad to see the woman again today.

Off to the bakery the man went, and found his mother punching away at her dough, and lo and behold, Gilwen’s mother was with her. The two seemed utterly enthusiastic about something. Perhaps it was about him. Seemingly it was about him, for when they greeted him, and Meleth gave him food; they simply told him that Gilwen had just been in, and that she was off cleaning in the servant’s closet, and shooed him out after her. When the door was shut behind, he thought he heard the ladies laughter again.

A lovely surprise anyhow! He wondered how Niniel had come to be in the bakery, but he could simply ask Gilwen when he found her. Upon instruction by another servant, he easily found the room he was looking for, and thought to surprise the lady. He did not knock on the door, but simply entered, beaming to see the his lovely lady.

[Gilwen]

Niniel nodded fiercely. "Oh, undoubtedly she has thought of it! What woman wouldn't have, when finding themselves so infatuated?" It was surely a normal thing to think about. And it pleased Niniel greatly that Meleth spoke more. She was quite fond of the woman, and greatly loved to hear her opinions.

She spoke on how long Gilwen had been working here. "Yes," Niniel sighed. "Ten long years. Oh, it has aged her so." It was sad to think about. At fifteen, her daughter had been quite the lively one. With a smile to share with any and all who would care give her time. Now, it seemed it was special; a gift that rarely made it to those outside of the family. This Faeldor, though, seemed to have brought it out again. And it seemed that even Meleth knew and understood this.

Faeldor himself poked his head into the bakery, and immediately the woman suppressed a smile of greater magnitude, though offered information on her darling daughter's whereabouts. As soon as he had gone, she turned to Meleth and laughed all the merrier. Oh, it was surely meant to be!

--

She had made it back to the servants quarter undisturbed, and had arrived to find it empty. It appeared the other young servants had opted for their break earlier rather than later. Frowning slightly, Gilwen set to work once more. Hoping to finish everything quickly so she could return to the kitchen for serving the Steward his meal.

And see Meleth and Mama. Gilwen sighed. She did love them both dearly---no matter how much they harped and prodded she and Faeldor together. Sometimes, it was best to let events unfold naturally. Although, the concept of 'natural' seemed to be lost on her mother when it came to relationships.

Ever since she had turned eighteen, it seemed Niniel had been trying to find her daughter the perfect match. Eight long years later, progress had finally been made on the subject of suitors; it was no wonder Niniel was so excited when it was thought of in such a manner. Actually, putting it in that light made Gilwen more excited as well. Eight years had been plenty of a wait for her. It was time for her to find someone to settle down with. Don't be brash. She told herself quietly.

The door opened, and Gilwen paid it no mind, thinking it one of the other ladies to pick up her post once more. She stood on tip-toe to place one of the buckets upon the top shelf. Oh, it was such a bother to be so short at times!

[Faeldor]

Faeldor’s smile did not leave him as he quietly shut the door behind himself. There was nobody else in the room, and he was glad for it. She had surely heard him enter, and he wondered that she did not turn around. Perhaps he thought her simply another servant coming to gather supplies. She was a quiet one afterall, not prone, it seemed to speech or song while she worked as he was.

The man paused for a moment, smiling that she needed stand on her toes to put the bucket up, but then walked across the room to where the lady was, and reached up easily to tilt the bucket that she was reaching for onto its shelf with one long arm. His other arm wrapped about her slender waist, and drew her right against him. She surely could not mistake the man, who held her so warmly and smelled of horse.

“Goodmorning, Starlight. Since I have awakened I have counted down the hours until I might see you again, sweet one.” He muttered against her, and then pressed a short kiss to the back of her neck, glad that they were alone in the room, so that he might do such. Their time the night before had changed his affections for her slightly. They had only grown, and he had become quite comfortable with the idea that the lady enjoyed his own touch, even without the presence of wine on his breath.

“I did see your mother visiting with mine in the bakery; they seemed to be having a delightful time and ushered me out after you right quickly,” he stated. His breath smelled of cinnamon from the roll that he had eaten on his walk over from the bakery. “It is good for both of them, I am sure.”

[Gilwen]

Gilwen had been rather surprised that the bucket seemed to find its place on the shelf on its own, and she quickly withdrew her hand from it. As it was easily set, another arm encircled her waist and drew her against the tall, strong frame of the hose master. It was unmistakably him, his arms having become quite recognizable the night before, and with him so close, she certainly smelt the stables.

If that weren't enough to tell the servant who was with her, the first two words from his mouth gave it away. "Goodmorning, Starlight." There was no other who called her that. It was uniquely his own; something that greatly calmed her. If he was this warm to her this morning, he had not seen Niniel and Meleth. Surely there was nothing for her to worry about yet. He told her how he had counted the hours to see her. It warmed her heart, though she also felt horrible for not having done the same. She had been far too preoccupied this morning with her dear mother to really look forward to seeing Faeldor. She felt a kiss to the back of her neck and she shifted herself so that she was facing him now.

Her immediate security vanished, though. For poor Faeldor had been to see them in the bakery. Oh, what news! Gilwen's heart began to race a bit, and she bit back a groan. How many times today would she have to bite her tongue today? He did not seem too distraught, she mused as she studied his face. His eyes were certainly not upset in any way.

His eyes. She blushed deeply, catching her breath as her mind turned to muse on the part of Meleth and Niniel's conversation concerning eye colors. Looking into them now, her mind turned to those very children---something she was highly embarrassed over. Even more so that the thought had come as he held her in such a way. The more she tried to correct her thoughts, though, the more she was thinking of it, and the rest of the things their mother's had said.

She dropped her gaze, so that she was staring straight at his chest, absently playing with a fabric fold on the front of his tunic. "They are having quite a wonderful time together." Gilwen murmured after a time, in a voice that possibly hinted at her embarrassment more than she would have liked. Her mother did deserve a friend; it wasn't their companionship that was making her so uneasy. Could friends not speak of things other than the superb match their two children had made?

Yes, she thought. They could think of the reasons why it was not perfect. Gilwen's mind turned to her age and size once more. Meleth and her mother had meant no harm by it, the way Meleth had assured her that she still approved of the pair of them had told her that much. Still, it bothered her more than Gilwen would have liked it to and worried her slightly. Faeldor seemed like the type of man who would wish for a large family, and after hearing such things, it did not sound like it was something she could offer.

Her blush increased slightly, once again catching herself. On some level, it seemed indecent for her to think such things! And she knew Faeldor well enough now that she was certain he would ask her about flushed cheeks. Then what would she say?

[Faeldor]

"They are having quite a wonderful time together."

Those were all the words she had to say to him? There was no greeting or affection on Gilwen’s part whatsoever, and it saddened Faeldor the slightest. He had hoped to find her lively and excited to see him again, but it seemed not the case. Perhaps her mood at the end of the evening the night previous had left her, and she was upset by something. She had looked away from him now, staring, it seemed, forcibly at his tunic instead of his face.

“Yes, it is good that you brought your mother with you, for my mother does enjoy company while she works. And either way, she often likes to have another taste her baking before she sets it before the Steward, so your mother does have the fine end of the deal if I might add.” Fine then, they would simply talk about their mothers if that was the case.

Faeldor’s disappointment did not last very long though, and it instead turned to simple concern.

“Why are such beautiful brown eyes so morose this morning?” he mused lovingly as he turned the woman’s chin up to look at him. He had since the first day they met asked her to look him in the eye as they spoke, and she had neither looked at him for more than a moment, and had barely spoken at this meeting. He did not know of the forbidden subject that speaking of eyes had become.

“And where also did such rosiness come from? I should say that I did hold you much more closely last night, and you did not object; and this simple closet is much more alone than even we were ‘alone’ in my own sitting room. Come, Gilwen, you must speak with me and not simply be upset. Do tell me if I have done too much.” As the man spoke, he dropped his arms sadly to his sides, assuming that he had perhaps been too brazen for her own liking. He frowned slightly. Perhaps she had allowed such last night simply because of the situation.