Snow Tales [one shot] Jul 27, 2019 11:30:59 GMT -5
Post by MITHIEL on Jul 27, 2019 11:30:59 GMT -5
FA 251, Dorthonion.
Fingers outstretched in the night, reaching through the mist. Long tactile fingers, quick and strong reaching. The scent of water, no it was not water, it smelled pungent. Like salt mixed with water surrounding her. It reached in the darkness for her…
Mithiel awoke, sitting up. Fingers grasping the sheet that was twisted up under her hand. A pillow on the floor and the other still on the bed with her. Sleep escaped her, panting in the night as her heart pounded against her chest. The rhythm of her heart erratic and her breaths quickly paced. The mattress plush with goose down and in the hearth was a low fire, Mithiel rubbed her arms through the thick long sleeves of her sleeping gown. It was just a dream, unusual and it meant nothing she told herself. Green eyes flicked upward to the canopy of the bed, the deep blue fabric stretched over the wooden frame to keep mouse droppings of the bed below. Here in the north, the mice retreated indoors for warmth and made their homes along the high beams of the fortress keep. Bare toes found the warmth of a fur rug and her slippers at the edge of the rug. Hanging on the arm of the chair was her robe of deep midnight. Mithiel belted the robe and caught her breath as there around her wrist was the glint of silver, thin silver thread that lead out the slitted window of the tower room. She had not imagined it, she had thought she saw the flash of silver earlier in the day when they had approached the cross roads.
The thin band of silver tugged, pulled as if it wished to show her something. It tugged and urged her towards the window, to look to the east. Yet through the slitted window she saw very little. She could not see the moon to judge if it was truly night outside the fortress or was it early morning before the dawn. Her eyes flicked about her room of stone, hewn by Noldorian hands. Hastily made and lacking in the elegance of Thingol’s cavern halls. There were no enchanted scones on the walls to give off elf light, just tallow candles to burn and they smelled heavily of bear grease.
Hanging in the wardrobe was one of three dresses she brought with her. And several that were being loaned to her by her highness princess Finduilas as she too was from the south and visiting with her grandparents and there was a dancing gown on loan from Lady Eldalótë. The thick woolen dress was coarse against her skin and not the soft silk that Mithiel was used to, but the dress kept out the cold.
ëMithiel found her way in the torch lit hallway that lead to a spiral stairs that went both upwards and down, Up two levels she went and then across a hallway where she felt the air blowing from and the glint of silver flashed, urging she follow. Follow it out into the cold air, where the sky was turning from darkness to light. Purple and blue splashed across the sky with clouds of dark grey hanging above and the snow was beginning to fall.
Flakes melted against flush cheeks as she stared out across the high walls towards a pass. Stared out into the snow storm as the wind whipped her hair and voices were heard on the wind, gloves covered her fingers and she drew her fur lined cloak tighter to her body. Puffs of white kissed the air and she licked her lips as the whipped chapped at her skin.
“My lord, what is that in the shadows, there” Mithiel asked as one of the many grey eyed Noldor soldiers stood watch.
“That is Aglon, Curufin and Celegorm reside there” the soldier reply with a brief glance at Mithiel. Hesitation that he should tell her about Aglon. Not trying to frighten her at the proximity of the Fëanorians yet it could not be helped that she asked, there was a kindness in his eyes. “They protect the pass with their army there and guard the east from Morgoth’s blight”
Mithiel’s lips pressed together and she felt a longing as she stared out across the mountain expanse. “Will Lords Angrod and Aegnor entertain their cousins from Aglon?” she asked and there was a silence, a heavy silence. “The lords are not on speaking terms at the moment. Though Celegorm comes more than Curufin to associate with his cousins” the guard explained.
“I see.” Mithiel said to none save herself as she stared across. For a moment the wind stopped blowing and the snow died down and she was about to see the outline of the fortress in the distance. “You do not mind, if I stay do you. I want to take in the sight” she said, in truth it was a longing she felt towards the east and she did not know yet how to bring up the idea that she would like to travel further east. She did not think Lord Aegnor would agree to taking her to Aglon. He had wanted her here in Dorthonion.
“I think you should return indoors my lady. Lord Aegnor will be ill tempered to find you outside in the cold. I should not let to face his wrath my lady” Mithiel worried her bottom and smiled. “My lord may be cross with me when he comes then. I will wait for him to find me here. Fear not, I will soothe his wrath. He can not stay angry with me” and she turned her attention back towards the pass to wait, the longing in her belly heavy and she felt a subtle ache in her limbs.