The Elf and the Man {January 3011} (Adanedhel)
Jan 9, 2018 15:11:38 GMT -5
Post by Ceolmund on Jan 9, 2018 15:11:38 GMT -5
“Thank you. She is the only thing I have. My father is a rather cruel elf. All he cares about is war. Anytime I walked his way, he would turn from me. He still does.. All he wants is to fight and protect Mirkwood. It is a noble thing, but yet my mother grieves because there is no longer love in their marriage and bringing me into the world made it worse for their relationship. I am truly sorry about your parents. One does not need to walk in this world without one caring parent.”
Ceolmund nodded in agreement. A caring parent was the most necessary of fundamentals. He tried to be the best father he could be to his own children, and though he had failures he knew he surpassed his own by far. Though, he hardly had the same struggles that his own Father had gone through with Elin. In Ceolmund's eyes, Runa was the completely perfect wife and mother. Likely the best in all of Edoras, if not all of Arda itself.
“I understand duty to the realm that he has,” he stated. “But duty must come divided when you have a family. You cannot leave loved ones abandoned.” Ceolmund could not understand how bringing a child into the world, even an elf child, could force those apart who were in love. Surely his love with his own wife was stronger for their children than it had even been before. True, they were more tired at the end of the days, and there was not the same time nor freedom; yet it was a good type of tired they had. And they would still have each other when their children were grown and gone from their home.
Ceolmund sighed. “I question more and more my own duty. Leaving them here alone while I go. Runa is nowhere near defenseless, yet…” Leaving her was as if leaving a part of himself behind. The elf would not understand. “She has no fear to challenge opponents that are greater than her. And it worries me.” He had seen Runa in the span of one year reduced to fear and fright from the wraith that called itself Khamul. Then laid out upon the bed at the healing hall from the orcs where she had seemed in her injury so small and weak. Then again she had taken on the wraiths. Their children were within her in all instances, and she had not only fear for his wife but the babies as well.
“Wyn and I, what? She is my friend. There is nothing between us if that is what you are thinking. Her heart belongs to Nurn and once she is done visiting my home she will leave to go back. She simply cannot leave those slaves.”
Ceolmund shrugged, noting the change in Adanedhel's voice. The elf often spoke so calm and level, it was noticeable with the way it had risen. Such a rise even his earlier comments on the wraiths had not brought upon him. “I meant no offense by it,” he offered honestly. “And I thought there were others protecting your homeland in your absence?” It did not sound as if the elf had much in Mirkwood calling him home. “You would let her go to Nurn alone?”
“I suppose you would stand out worse in the Black Land than I even. Orcs do not have height nor grace.” The man thought on the old orcish boots and garments that Wyn had arrived in. Of course between Runa and Amalric, they had been able to fit her in some proper Rohirric garments that she would not stand out like a sore thumb on the streets of Edoras nor be cold through the winter, yet still she was small. No taller than the average Eorlingas twelve year old, and she had told them that this was most often the case for the malnourished people of Nurn. It would be impossible for the elf to disguise himself the way Wyn could.
Ceolmund nodded in agreement. A caring parent was the most necessary of fundamentals. He tried to be the best father he could be to his own children, and though he had failures he knew he surpassed his own by far. Though, he hardly had the same struggles that his own Father had gone through with Elin. In Ceolmund's eyes, Runa was the completely perfect wife and mother. Likely the best in all of Edoras, if not all of Arda itself.
“I understand duty to the realm that he has,” he stated. “But duty must come divided when you have a family. You cannot leave loved ones abandoned.” Ceolmund could not understand how bringing a child into the world, even an elf child, could force those apart who were in love. Surely his love with his own wife was stronger for their children than it had even been before. True, they were more tired at the end of the days, and there was not the same time nor freedom; yet it was a good type of tired they had. And they would still have each other when their children were grown and gone from their home.
Ceolmund sighed. “I question more and more my own duty. Leaving them here alone while I go. Runa is nowhere near defenseless, yet…” Leaving her was as if leaving a part of himself behind. The elf would not understand. “She has no fear to challenge opponents that are greater than her. And it worries me.” He had seen Runa in the span of one year reduced to fear and fright from the wraith that called itself Khamul. Then laid out upon the bed at the healing hall from the orcs where she had seemed in her injury so small and weak. Then again she had taken on the wraiths. Their children were within her in all instances, and she had not only fear for his wife but the babies as well.
“Wyn and I, what? She is my friend. There is nothing between us if that is what you are thinking. Her heart belongs to Nurn and once she is done visiting my home she will leave to go back. She simply cannot leave those slaves.”
Ceolmund shrugged, noting the change in Adanedhel's voice. The elf often spoke so calm and level, it was noticeable with the way it had risen. Such a rise even his earlier comments on the wraiths had not brought upon him. “I meant no offense by it,” he offered honestly. “And I thought there were others protecting your homeland in your absence?” It did not sound as if the elf had much in Mirkwood calling him home. “You would let her go to Nurn alone?”
“I suppose you would stand out worse in the Black Land than I even. Orcs do not have height nor grace.” The man thought on the old orcish boots and garments that Wyn had arrived in. Of course between Runa and Amalric, they had been able to fit her in some proper Rohirric garments that she would not stand out like a sore thumb on the streets of Edoras nor be cold through the winter, yet still she was small. No taller than the average Eorlingas twelve year old, and she had told them that this was most often the case for the malnourished people of Nurn. It would be impossible for the elf to disguise himself the way Wyn could.