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b2mem2017-03-05 12:38 am
kayleelupin.livejournal.com) wrote in b2mem2017-03-05 12:38 am
Entry tags:
Questions and Answers, by Kaylee Arafinwiel
B2MeM Prompt & Path: Red Path: “The Day Is Done” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Format: ficlet
Genre: family
Rating: PG
Warnings:
Characters: Anairë, OCs
Pairings: Findis/OC, Ñolofinwë/ Anairë (though obviously Ñolofinwë’s not here)
Author’s Note: The song being sung is the poem, of course (part of it, anyway.)
Summary: Following “At the Rose and Crown”, we continue the adventure of Glorfindel’s child and her keepers - Valandur begins his investigation..
Valandur entered the common room of the inn to find a new song being struck up. The song was really a poem by some obscure Vanyarin poet, but here it was being sung as a lay in praise of Lord Manwë and Lady Varda. He listened to the first few verses intently before joining Anairë’s table.
The day is done, and the darkness
Falls from the wings of Night,
As a feather is wafted downward
From an eagle in his flight.
I see the lights of the village
Gleam through the rain and the mist,
And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me
That my soul cannot resist:
A feeling of sadness and longing,
That is not akin to pain,
And resembles sorrow only
As the mist resembles the rain.
Come, read to me some poem,
Some simple and heartfelt lay,
That shall soothe this restless feeling,
And banish the thoughts of day.
Not from the grand old masters,
Not from the bards sublime,
Whose distant footsteps echo
Through the corridors of Time…
Valandur’s gaze found the Noldorin minstrel who was performing the lay, and they shared a discreet look. Yes, one of his; he’d thought so. Calamiron would speak with him later, surely. He feigned disinterest then, and turned to the berry tart and cream which had been brought out meantime. He noticed only Anairë was partaking, and gave the child a measured look. “Laurelda – “
“Glóredhel,” the elleth seethed, scowling.
“Glóredhel,” Valandur corrected himself. “Why do you not eat?”
“Auntie Anaire said I couldn’t because I didn’t want vegetables.”
Valandur sighed, exasperated. “Really, hina, and why did you not want them?” he asked.
“Ada said I didn’t have to.” She paused. “I think he said that.” She met Valandur’s eyes with a look that was suddenly filled with pain and loss. “I want my ada,” she whispered. “Where’s Ada? Why was he not there to greet me? Why was no one there?” She began weeping, and Valandur rose, gathering Glóredhel in his embrace.
“Those are excellent questions, hina, and though I cannot answer all of them, I can answer one. But I will only do so if you calm yourself,” Valandur said. He ordered a goblet of warm spiced milk for Glóredhel and one for himself as well, eschewing the wine he had wished for so fervently before.
Glóredhel sipped at the milk, savouring the taste of honey and cinnamon in the frothy drink. “I’m s-sorry,” she whispered once her tears had slowed. “I must be bad. They said I had to be punished for being so bad. That’s why, isn’t it? That’s why no one came.”
Valandur very carefully did not slam his goblet on the table. “O hina, who told you such lies?” he asked.
“In Lórien,” she whispered, sniffling. “The…the…” She shook her head. “Some elves.” She hadn’t known them.
“You are not bad, child, and you are not to blame for what happened long years before you were ever begotten,” Valandur said firmly. “I cannot tell you why none waited to greet you, but I do know this, it was nothing you did wrong.” And he fully intended to find out who ‘some elves’ had been, and to bring them before the Valar, if not the kings.
With that decided, he took Glóredhel up to bed and tucked her in. Time enough to return to the palace on the morrow – tonight, he had a minstrel to speak with.
Format: ficlet
Genre: family
Rating: PG
Warnings:
Characters: Anairë, OCs
Pairings: Findis/OC, Ñolofinwë/ Anairë (though obviously Ñolofinwë’s not here)
Author’s Note: The song being sung is the poem, of course (part of it, anyway.)
Summary: Following “At the Rose and Crown”, we continue the adventure of Glorfindel’s child and her keepers - Valandur begins his investigation..
Valandur entered the common room of the inn to find a new song being struck up. The song was really a poem by some obscure Vanyarin poet, but here it was being sung as a lay in praise of Lord Manwë and Lady Varda. He listened to the first few verses intently before joining Anairë’s table.
The day is done, and the darkness
Falls from the wings of Night,
As a feather is wafted downward
From an eagle in his flight.
I see the lights of the village
Gleam through the rain and the mist,
And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me
That my soul cannot resist:
A feeling of sadness and longing,
That is not akin to pain,
And resembles sorrow only
As the mist resembles the rain.
Come, read to me some poem,
Some simple and heartfelt lay,
That shall soothe this restless feeling,
And banish the thoughts of day.
Not from the grand old masters,
Not from the bards sublime,
Whose distant footsteps echo
Through the corridors of Time…
Valandur’s gaze found the Noldorin minstrel who was performing the lay, and they shared a discreet look. Yes, one of his; he’d thought so. Calamiron would speak with him later, surely. He feigned disinterest then, and turned to the berry tart and cream which had been brought out meantime. He noticed only Anairë was partaking, and gave the child a measured look. “Laurelda – “
“Glóredhel,” the elleth seethed, scowling.
“Glóredhel,” Valandur corrected himself. “Why do you not eat?”
“Auntie Anaire said I couldn’t because I didn’t want vegetables.”
Valandur sighed, exasperated. “Really, hina, and why did you not want them?” he asked.
“Ada said I didn’t have to.” She paused. “I think he said that.” She met Valandur’s eyes with a look that was suddenly filled with pain and loss. “I want my ada,” she whispered. “Where’s Ada? Why was he not there to greet me? Why was no one there?” She began weeping, and Valandur rose, gathering Glóredhel in his embrace.
“Those are excellent questions, hina, and though I cannot answer all of them, I can answer one. But I will only do so if you calm yourself,” Valandur said. He ordered a goblet of warm spiced milk for Glóredhel and one for himself as well, eschewing the wine he had wished for so fervently before.
Glóredhel sipped at the milk, savouring the taste of honey and cinnamon in the frothy drink. “I’m s-sorry,” she whispered once her tears had slowed. “I must be bad. They said I had to be punished for being so bad. That’s why, isn’t it? That’s why no one came.”
Valandur very carefully did not slam his goblet on the table. “O hina, who told you such lies?” he asked.
“In Lórien,” she whispered, sniffling. “The…the…” She shook her head. “Some elves.” She hadn’t known them.
“You are not bad, child, and you are not to blame for what happened long years before you were ever begotten,” Valandur said firmly. “I cannot tell you why none waited to greet you, but I do know this, it was nothing you did wrong.” And he fully intended to find out who ‘some elves’ had been, and to bring them before the Valar, if not the kings.
With that decided, he took Glóredhel up to bed and tucked her in. Time enough to return to the palace on the morrow – tonight, he had a minstrel to speak with.