Onward with the chase! [January 2010] {Calon}
Dec 7, 2017 13:17:19 GMT -5
Post by Narbeleth on Dec 7, 2017 13:17:19 GMT -5
“I’m home.”
“Remlas, dear! We’re in the kitchen. Well, mostly.”
Narbeleth turned and marked the man as he entered the room. “Remy,” she hummed in greeting, though he looked slightly nervous. Never the true bright expression anymore that she had come to know those months past.
“Ah. I should have known I wouldn’t beat Cal and Bel home.”
“You should see the stag we felled,” Narbeleth smiled to the man, though her own grin was slightly in trepidation. She had truly tried with Remlas, but as the weeks went by, it seemed more and more the friendship they had built over the summer and through the warm autumn months until Calon had returned had been lost. “If it were any larger, we might had to start eating it in the wood and summoned the wolves to help before bringing it home,” she jested hopefully.
“They didn’t beat you by much. What’s that you’ve got, Rem?”
“Oh, just some papers. I’ll explain at dinner. I’m going to go change out of these clothes.”
Narbeleth sent Remlas another smile and watched him as he went, but he did not turn to look to her as he went up the stairs. Her smile faltered, and she frowned momentarily, before turning back to plop the handfuls of chopped onions in the pan where Arobes was adding the lard. She would brown them nicely right before the meat was ready to make a steaming hot topping for it.
“I'll draw some water from the spring. I'm sure they'll all be thirsty, and we'll have plenty to clean up.” She was not certain she wished to be indoors when Remlas descended the stairway again. Narbeleth had hoped for months that things would soon smooth out, and he would feel as a brother to her. Her voice was now stilled as she moved for the washbasin once more, taking up a more abrasive soap this time to scrub the onion from her skin, taking the time to shut the window once more and tidy the area in which she had worked, and all the while glancing out the window to eye her husband.
It had been strange at first; she and Calon had spent their first week together sleeping under the stars on clifftops over the seashore, and in the forest; but that had ended when the first of the autumn storms had hit and they needed to retreat to a roof once more to weather out the wind and rain. They had not been quite sure what they were going to do at that point, for they had been making decisions on a whim and a fancy up until then, and they were not about to go their separate ways now! It would not have done to add Calon into the household of Linnon, to deal with all of Narbeleth's five tittering cousins. It seemed much easier to join him in his parents home; though things were strange having Remlas present and also caught in by the storm. It could not have been more strained than if Faeldor had been caught under the same roof with the newlyweds!
Calon had expressed his want to go back to Minas Tirith and his job waiting. He felt a duty of sorts to his grandparents as well. She knew he loved the horses, though she could not exactly understand it for he could have tended horses in Dol Amroth as well in a similar position. He had once told her that he had wished to escape Belfalas, though once she had seen the man there in his elements of freedom... it was apparent that the ocean, the forests, and the cliffs all dwelled within him and he was loathe to leave. They lingered longer than they had planned at his parents home, taking in more of the waves and woods each day. His want to be away did not seem exactly sensible, though, she did not require the man to be sensible to keep her love.
Narbeleth knew she would ache for her family if she carried on her life here without them. Not to mention Gilwen, who was her dearest friend. They had been preparing to depart from the home of Istor when the letter from Faeldor reached them that he planned to uproot everyone. What a relief it was when news from the White City had made it their way that Gilwen was beginning to mend, and that in the springtime the household of Faelon would be moving back to the beautiful shores of the sea. Where they belonged… it had stated. It had taken only a look upon that letter for Calon to decide that the Stewards stables did not need him, and that something better would work out for his grandparents. He was not going to separate Narbeleth from her mother, her friend, and her siblings, even if Faeldor was one of them. He had returned a letter to Faeldor with his notice that very day. Narbeleth had waited another week to reply for fear the letters would arrive together and give them away otherwise.
That was when it seemed their lives immediately began. Calon's eyes had already been set upon a property and it came into their keeping that very day. He began his work at the smithy once more. Narbeleth took up her wifely duties around the home, helped him as often as she could in his work at the blacksmith, and had even acquired a couple clients seeking her midwife services, though they were still in the early days and needed nothing but a check every so often. All things seemed to be exactly as they should be. Of course, but one thing. Even when they had moved from the home, her friendship with Remlas had never reflourished. As much as Calon had denied it, he was very alike his brother in many ways. Not every way… not in the particular ways in which she was so endeared to Calon, but they still shared interests and she had always a fondness for him.
She had avoided the topic since that very day Calon had arrived at Linnon's house to find Remlas there, and she had seen the tenseness between the two brothers. Calon had not imposed to bring it up with her either. Of course it did not weigh heavily on her most of the time, for she was never one to dwell in insecurities, especially when they were not present in front of her, and there were so many fair things to speak on with her huntsman. Yet, moments like this made her wonder. What could she do? The man was her family now, and Narbeleth had always been the one to smooth issues over within her own family. And this was not simply an issue among others… she knew she was at the middle of it. It did not seem her bright and cheerful antics about his family home, nor at the smithy, were helping to improve any relationship she had with Remlas. Nor had she noticed Calon trying to help. Perhaps it was the way he had always been with his brother? Or perhaps not.
Narbeleth plucked up the wooden bucket and took for the back door again, stepping barefoot over the cool earth. “Cold yet? Looks like you're almost done here.” Narbeleth came upon her husband and put a hand on his back, sliding it round him into an embrace from the side and steering clear of the bloody meat he was working with. “Remy's home,” she commented, then pressed her lips and nose into the back of Calon's shoulder, lingering long enough that her unease began to settle. Just the feel of him sent a spark of energy through the woman.
“Get that meat on the spit and come down to the spring with me,” she suggested larkishly. “Your mother won't want you walking inside with blood on your hands, and we'll need plenty of water to wash over this table anyway.” She took a glance toward Istor, smiling, and then muttered toward Calon's ear, a rare serious tone to her voice. “Calon… we need to talk.”
She moved out of the way to let them finish, leaning back against a tree, though her eyes flicked between her husband and the upstairs room of the house where Remlas had retreated.
“Remlas, dear! We’re in the kitchen. Well, mostly.”
Narbeleth turned and marked the man as he entered the room. “Remy,” she hummed in greeting, though he looked slightly nervous. Never the true bright expression anymore that she had come to know those months past.
“Ah. I should have known I wouldn’t beat Cal and Bel home.”
“You should see the stag we felled,” Narbeleth smiled to the man, though her own grin was slightly in trepidation. She had truly tried with Remlas, but as the weeks went by, it seemed more and more the friendship they had built over the summer and through the warm autumn months until Calon had returned had been lost. “If it were any larger, we might had to start eating it in the wood and summoned the wolves to help before bringing it home,” she jested hopefully.
“They didn’t beat you by much. What’s that you’ve got, Rem?”
“Oh, just some papers. I’ll explain at dinner. I’m going to go change out of these clothes.”
Narbeleth sent Remlas another smile and watched him as he went, but he did not turn to look to her as he went up the stairs. Her smile faltered, and she frowned momentarily, before turning back to plop the handfuls of chopped onions in the pan where Arobes was adding the lard. She would brown them nicely right before the meat was ready to make a steaming hot topping for it.
“I'll draw some water from the spring. I'm sure they'll all be thirsty, and we'll have plenty to clean up.” She was not certain she wished to be indoors when Remlas descended the stairway again. Narbeleth had hoped for months that things would soon smooth out, and he would feel as a brother to her. Her voice was now stilled as she moved for the washbasin once more, taking up a more abrasive soap this time to scrub the onion from her skin, taking the time to shut the window once more and tidy the area in which she had worked, and all the while glancing out the window to eye her husband.
It had been strange at first; she and Calon had spent their first week together sleeping under the stars on clifftops over the seashore, and in the forest; but that had ended when the first of the autumn storms had hit and they needed to retreat to a roof once more to weather out the wind and rain. They had not been quite sure what they were going to do at that point, for they had been making decisions on a whim and a fancy up until then, and they were not about to go their separate ways now! It would not have done to add Calon into the household of Linnon, to deal with all of Narbeleth's five tittering cousins. It seemed much easier to join him in his parents home; though things were strange having Remlas present and also caught in by the storm. It could not have been more strained than if Faeldor had been caught under the same roof with the newlyweds!
Calon had expressed his want to go back to Minas Tirith and his job waiting. He felt a duty of sorts to his grandparents as well. She knew he loved the horses, though she could not exactly understand it for he could have tended horses in Dol Amroth as well in a similar position. He had once told her that he had wished to escape Belfalas, though once she had seen the man there in his elements of freedom... it was apparent that the ocean, the forests, and the cliffs all dwelled within him and he was loathe to leave. They lingered longer than they had planned at his parents home, taking in more of the waves and woods each day. His want to be away did not seem exactly sensible, though, she did not require the man to be sensible to keep her love.
Narbeleth knew she would ache for her family if she carried on her life here without them. Not to mention Gilwen, who was her dearest friend. They had been preparing to depart from the home of Istor when the letter from Faeldor reached them that he planned to uproot everyone. What a relief it was when news from the White City had made it their way that Gilwen was beginning to mend, and that in the springtime the household of Faelon would be moving back to the beautiful shores of the sea. Where they belonged… it had stated. It had taken only a look upon that letter for Calon to decide that the Stewards stables did not need him, and that something better would work out for his grandparents. He was not going to separate Narbeleth from her mother, her friend, and her siblings, even if Faeldor was one of them. He had returned a letter to Faeldor with his notice that very day. Narbeleth had waited another week to reply for fear the letters would arrive together and give them away otherwise.
That was when it seemed their lives immediately began. Calon's eyes had already been set upon a property and it came into their keeping that very day. He began his work at the smithy once more. Narbeleth took up her wifely duties around the home, helped him as often as she could in his work at the blacksmith, and had even acquired a couple clients seeking her midwife services, though they were still in the early days and needed nothing but a check every so often. All things seemed to be exactly as they should be. Of course, but one thing. Even when they had moved from the home, her friendship with Remlas had never reflourished. As much as Calon had denied it, he was very alike his brother in many ways. Not every way… not in the particular ways in which she was so endeared to Calon, but they still shared interests and she had always a fondness for him.
She had avoided the topic since that very day Calon had arrived at Linnon's house to find Remlas there, and she had seen the tenseness between the two brothers. Calon had not imposed to bring it up with her either. Of course it did not weigh heavily on her most of the time, for she was never one to dwell in insecurities, especially when they were not present in front of her, and there were so many fair things to speak on with her huntsman. Yet, moments like this made her wonder. What could she do? The man was her family now, and Narbeleth had always been the one to smooth issues over within her own family. And this was not simply an issue among others… she knew she was at the middle of it. It did not seem her bright and cheerful antics about his family home, nor at the smithy, were helping to improve any relationship she had with Remlas. Nor had she noticed Calon trying to help. Perhaps it was the way he had always been with his brother? Or perhaps not.
Narbeleth plucked up the wooden bucket and took for the back door again, stepping barefoot over the cool earth. “Cold yet? Looks like you're almost done here.” Narbeleth came upon her husband and put a hand on his back, sliding it round him into an embrace from the side and steering clear of the bloody meat he was working with. “Remy's home,” she commented, then pressed her lips and nose into the back of Calon's shoulder, lingering long enough that her unease began to settle. Just the feel of him sent a spark of energy through the woman.
“Get that meat on the spit and come down to the spring with me,” she suggested larkishly. “Your mother won't want you walking inside with blood on your hands, and we'll need plenty of water to wash over this table anyway.” She took a glance toward Istor, smiling, and then muttered toward Calon's ear, a rare serious tone to her voice. “Calon… we need to talk.”
She moved out of the way to let them finish, leaning back against a tree, though her eyes flicked between her husband and the upstairs room of the house where Remlas had retreated.
