A Perfect Motion, by Himring
Mar. 22nd, 2019 10:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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b2memB2MeM Prompt, Card and Number: O68: perfect commotion of silk (127. Mary Oliver (1935-2009))
Format: teaser
Genre: vignette, character study
Rating: General
Warnings: none (except for a very vague veiled allusion to Thangorodrim)
Characters: Maedhros, OFC
Pairings: n/a
Creator’s Notes: This is a scene that had already been planned for one of my slow-moving chaptered WIPs. I'm glad that I could find a b2mem prompt to push me into writing it.
Summary: Maedhros has persuaded a Sindarin healer to accompany him to Himring to treat one of his people. This is a scene that takes place on the journey. Maedhros and the healer have only recently met and do not know much about each other's backgrounds yet. (The healer goes by the name of Auntie, but this is a bit of a joke on her part, not a sign of venerable age.)
After a bite of food, Auntie remained sitting just a little longer, needing to rest her backside, which was complaining at bit, she said, at the unaccustomed horse-riding.
Maedhros, idle for the time being, became sharply aware that he had now missed his daily morning exercise for several days running. Strange how habit-forming such a thing could be—as soon as he recalled that he had not taken the time, on this journey, he also felt the lack, as if it were, ever so slightly, impairing his balance.
He hesitated. He had, he thought, so far succeeded by amusing Auntie and convinced her he was not likely to be dangerous. Would he put that success at risk, if he started to wave a sword about? But surely she was far too much of a realist not to believe in self-defence or in keeping up one’s skills?
He said nothing, but stepped a little to the side, out of her direct line of view, and began, falling easily into the rhythm of the first set of moves. Neither of his companions interrupted him and soon he lost his sense of self-consciousness, speeding up. He quickly ran through the shorter version of the exercise and came to a halt with a final flourish of his sword arm.
‘Very nice,’ remarked Auntie.
He saw that she had turned around so as to be able to watch him better. There was an appreciative gleam in her eyes that Maedhros had not encountered since Valinor and, without considering the question in any depth, had not expected to see ever again.
Surprise at her observation transported him to the once-familiar halls of Tirion’s palace where he used to move, fully aware that he was the centre of attention with everyone’s eyes on him, through celebrations and balls among the nobility of the Noldor in a perfect commotion of silk. He swept her a courtly Tirionese bow—thank you—and found that he had startled her in his turn. Such elaborate manners were rarely seen on this side of the Sea, let alone out here in the Marches, he supposed, nor did they exactly match his travel-worn clothes, let alone the state of the rest of him.
But Auntie did not remain startled for long. The smile and the appreciative gleam—not flirtatious, something a little more impartial, he thought—soon returned.
‘That’s very nice, too,’ she said.
Format: teaser
Genre: vignette, character study
Rating: General
Warnings: none (except for a very vague veiled allusion to Thangorodrim)
Characters: Maedhros, OFC
Pairings: n/a
Creator’s Notes: This is a scene that had already been planned for one of my slow-moving chaptered WIPs. I'm glad that I could find a b2mem prompt to push me into writing it.
Summary: Maedhros has persuaded a Sindarin healer to accompany him to Himring to treat one of his people. This is a scene that takes place on the journey. Maedhros and the healer have only recently met and do not know much about each other's backgrounds yet. (The healer goes by the name of Auntie, but this is a bit of a joke on her part, not a sign of venerable age.)
After a bite of food, Auntie remained sitting just a little longer, needing to rest her backside, which was complaining at bit, she said, at the unaccustomed horse-riding.
Maedhros, idle for the time being, became sharply aware that he had now missed his daily morning exercise for several days running. Strange how habit-forming such a thing could be—as soon as he recalled that he had not taken the time, on this journey, he also felt the lack, as if it were, ever so slightly, impairing his balance.
He hesitated. He had, he thought, so far succeeded by amusing Auntie and convinced her he was not likely to be dangerous. Would he put that success at risk, if he started to wave a sword about? But surely she was far too much of a realist not to believe in self-defence or in keeping up one’s skills?
He said nothing, but stepped a little to the side, out of her direct line of view, and began, falling easily into the rhythm of the first set of moves. Neither of his companions interrupted him and soon he lost his sense of self-consciousness, speeding up. He quickly ran through the shorter version of the exercise and came to a halt with a final flourish of his sword arm.
‘Very nice,’ remarked Auntie.
He saw that she had turned around so as to be able to watch him better. There was an appreciative gleam in her eyes that Maedhros had not encountered since Valinor and, without considering the question in any depth, had not expected to see ever again.
Surprise at her observation transported him to the once-familiar halls of Tirion’s palace where he used to move, fully aware that he was the centre of attention with everyone’s eyes on him, through celebrations and balls among the nobility of the Noldor in a perfect commotion of silk. He swept her a courtly Tirionese bow—thank you—and found that he had startled her in his turn. Such elaborate manners were rarely seen on this side of the Sea, let alone out here in the Marches, he supposed, nor did they exactly match his travel-worn clothes, let alone the state of the rest of him.
But Auntie did not remain startled for long. The smile and the appreciative gleam—not flirtatious, something a little more impartial, he thought—soon returned.
‘That’s very nice, too,’ she said.
