Paint Brush In the Sand
Jan 1, 2019 13:07:16 GMT -5
Post by MITHIEL on Jan 1, 2019 13:07:16 GMT -5
Alqualondë
Spring, 2510 T.A.
A Meeting of Ruivo and Mithiel’s Families
Fëalasso and Awaldanis
Having taken her mother Jirel’s advice, Awaldanis had managed to drag Fëalasso away from court and painting long enough to heavy handily force him into a carriage. “Why are we going towards the sea Awaldanis?” Fëalasso asked as he looked out the window, on the second day of traveling through the pass of mount Ololossë towards the sea. “I do hope you’ve picked someplace worthy of painting. I do need some fresh inspiration. Perhaps We should venture to Tol Eressëa. Though I would not wish to stay more than a few hours. You know how the smell of the sea gets into the fabric and does not come out!Fëalasso earned himself a glare from his wife, sitting across from him who crossed her arms and looked rather miffed. Mimping that he knew very well where they were going and that he should not act so surprised by the journey. “Danis you are fussing where fuss is not needed. She is old enough to decide for herself what she wants” Fëalasso kept trying to implore and Awaldanis would hear none of it. “She should marry a prince, I can think of several available that need a good wife. A wife that knows the courts and could help her husband.”
A shake of dark hair and a tune upon his lips. “Stop that” Awaldanis hissed at Fëalasso as he hummed in the carriage next go her, sharp grew her expressive almond shaped eyes as she stared at the home across the way. Taking in the sight of the house situated near the shore. Awaldanis was appraising the compound that was likely generational housing that was normal for elves to live in. Living in community and close tied family homes. Her husband sitting across from her and he tried not to roll his eyes as river rock lenses stared at the dark amber caramel blonde across from him. Smiling at the way the light played through the curtains of the carriage and shone upon her hair. He was not concerned with why she furrowed her brows. She was being overly dramatic as her namesake
“Is this truly necessary?” Fëalasso drawled with heavy boredom and a sigh upon thick lips, glancing out the window as well. Long fingers of an artist steepled together as he flicked his gaze over the exterior of the large house with it’s twelve front facing windows and two sets of double doors, one on the lower porch and the second an upstairs balcony. All facing towards the street. Appraising eyes sliding over the fountain in front of the tan and white sandstone colored structure with grey shingles.
“They have a nice home, they probably do well for themselves, see. We can go. I am sure this Ruivo’s family is nice enough and we need not to impose on them. Over your ridiculous concern that our daughter may or may not be his vellyn.” Fëalasso grumbled from deep in his seat as he laid his head back and closed his eyes. The spring air growing warm at the sea coast and heavily scented with salt.
“Do not do that” Awaldanis snipped as her fan flicked open. “Do not make a mockery of our daughter being the vellyn of a mere jewelsmith” hissing as the fan lifted her caramel tendrils which escaped from the perfectly drawn up curled coif she had styled her hair in to reveal the delicate tapers of her ears and slender shape of her throat. Showing off her softly curved jawline and while the coif pulled hair back from her temples and highlighted the prominence of her arched eyes that she had passed on to her daughter yet Awaldanis’ eyes were not the same misted sea color. More winter sky blue and lightly flecked with metallic shavings.
“Oh for Manwë’s sake Awaldanis! There is nothing wrong with him being a jewelsmith! Was Fëanor Finwëion not a jewelsmith himself and a prince! You are overreacting to this. Overstepping your boundaries as her mother. I say leave it be and let us go back to Tirion before the carriage reeks of fish” sniffing at the air. “Why anyone would be paralian when Tirion is a far better option is beyond me. There is nothing exciting about ships and boats. And fish tastes rather terrible from the sea and should only be from the rivers if you ask me”
Giving little care to what her husband wanted or even thought, Awaldanis pushed open the carriage door and descended down the two small steps. Not waiting for her coachman to help her. Her slippered feet crushing seashells into the gravel walk away, crunching under her feet and she cringed at the sound. Sea elves. Ugh.
Fëalasso sighed as he looked out the open door, his wife on a march towards the curved staircase that flaked the home on either side. “Danis, wait!” he called, lazily rolling from the plush bench seat and out into the bright sunlight. Blinking as sunlight stung his eyes that needed a moment to adjust from the shaded carriage to full spring morning coastal sunshine. Where Awaldanis was quick in her steps, Fëalasso was leisurely and made no haste to chase his wife up the steps in a hurry. No, he tarried by the fountain a moment, marvelling at the mosaic work at the bottom of the shallow fountain and curious as how the fountain worked.
“Fëalasso!” groaning as his name was called and he had not the time to deeper inspect the fountain, though his mind whirled with the colors he was going to paint with. He was going to recreate a painting of the home’s exterior. Awaldanis already at the door, impatience showed on her face and she smoothed away any shell dust that had collected in the folds and creases of her elegant dress. The dress was billowed around her lithe frame, layered was her attire. A bright tangerine silk chemise cut close to her frame, trimmed at the collar, wrists and hem in golden honey. A sleeveless robe layered over the chemise, brilliant peacock blue with a belt of gold that tied the robe shut at her middle, splitting the robe in a V shape so the orange undergown was seen peeking at the center. Though her hair was drawn up and coiled, there were ornaments in her hair that displayed her wealth, along with the golden bangles on one arm.
Impatiently Awaldanis knocked on the glass door, of the home. She did not want to admit that yes, the exterior was nice. It was nice for a family of jewel smith’s. It was not her residence in Taniquetil that she kept, nor was it the palace of Noldor. It was nearly as nice as the town home Fëalasso kept in Tirion, as both partners maintain separate residences. Due to personal reasons and Awaldanis preferred to be closer to her Vanyar kin than that of her Noldorian ones.
Strolling up the stairs, Fëalasso casually swept dark bangs from his eyes, the grey rock hued eyes that lent the grey to Mithiel’s eyes. Tongue wetting his bottom lip as Awaldanis reached for the knocker once more. “His parents are Ñaltanáro and Fallinel” Fëalasso reminded his wife against the edge of her ear, before he felt the sharp sting of her elbow in his ribs. “I know their names, I know his entire tree” a low warning in her voice as she fanned her fair face and smoothed it into pleasant lines. The door of the house opening. “Do not make a mockery of me Fëalasso, I am warning you. You so much as imply you agree with this match. I promise you that you will never paint for the great lords of the Noldor or Vanya. You will find yourself here and smelling of salt and fish as you paint in Olwë’s court!” Awaldanis snarled under her breath to her husband.
Fëalasso’s fingers skimmed up the back of her gown and a barbed threat lay on the edge of his lips. “If you put a wedge between her and his family, before they have had chance to meet her for themselves, I promise you Awaldanis that you will never be welcome off of Taniquetil again. I will ruin your name in all the courts of the Eldar. Do you understand me. Be nice. These people are the kin of our daughter’s vellyn and I will not have you besmirching Telpëhísimë.”
Reflecting in polished glass was a sneer on Awaldanis’ eyes at her husband as he stood behind her and all traces of her sourness vanished when the inner door began to open.
“Good morning!” Awaldanis began, hoping that the elf before her did not exclusively speak the language of the Teleri. Awaldanis did not want to admit that her Telerin was lacking from her lack of presence in Olwë’s court though she had been in Elwë’s but his tongue had been that of the Sindar which was removed from the language spoken here upon the shore of Aman.