A Night There Was When Winter Died (Gilwen) {February 3008}
Aug 20, 2018 23:38:23 GMT -5
Post by Faeldor on Aug 20, 2018 23:38:23 GMT -5
Lumiel nuzzled Faeldor’s arm, and Faeldor scratched the horse behind the ears, then patted her. “The treasure is above us,” The main pointed upwards toward the cliff. Though it was difficult to see in the dark, there was an escarpment, perhaps one hundred feet in the air. It was not far; they would even be able to see the horses from where they came out, but first they must go around the edge of rock to find the path that led upwards. His eyes were crinkled in laughter, but he did not laugh aloud upon her. Surely she was jesting to speak of the Steward’s jewels, but then again it seemed that there were some things she knew little upon.
“Not the Steward’s jewels, but the jewel of Eru Illuvatar,” he answered her. “The moon will be our treasure, and you will have never seen it so lovely as you do from above.”
He looked back to Gilwen, a gleam of joy in his eyes. “I know this well from my youth, though I have not been here often in the past years. It is difficult sometimes to summon enough energy at the end of the day. I’m sure you understand; do tell me if you are too tired to continue. There is no real climb save the last ledge, but there are good footholds, and I should say it is not but a foot taller than myself, and I will lend you my hands.”
By the time the two would make it to the top, the moon should be rising overhead, so even their descent would be more lighted. It also meant that they would reach the top just in time for what he had wished to show her. At the top of the ridge there was a small passage, which led through an old cavern in the mountain. Coming out on the other side of it was a path that led further up, to the top of Mount Mindolluin. They would not take that path now, for it was near a day’s journey to go up and down again. But the cave was to Faeldor’s delight, especially in the evening at this time of day when the moon rose full. He called it Feyla Isilmë, cave of moonlight in the ancient tongue, for when the moon rose and was large enough, the light cast through an opening in the rock and shone down to light one of the larger caverns. It was quite beautiful, and something his father had shown him as a boy. Faeldor looked back at the horses for a moment. Thissel had begun to graze among the grasses, and Lumiel was still watching the two humans. Gilwen’s hand was already warmly captured in his own, blessing of blessings, her dark eyes gleaming up at him in the dimming light. Expectant and carefree, depths piercing him, yet trusting. He began to lead the lady towards the path that followed along the rocky cliff wall.
He would not tell her of the cavern until they had reached the top, for he did not wish to startle her at saying they would enter a cavern in the night. He was pleased that she had trusted him though. He did not notice the roughness of her hand, but only the warmth of it as the chill breeze of late winter gusted over them. A wind which could cause the skin to prickle, and the ears to turn red with cold, though they both were properly bundled and dressed and neither had a thing to fear for it.
The cliff of Mount Mindolluin to the left, and the shadows of lofty fir trees and brush to the right, Faeldor stepped lightly through even the thickest of brush, and made sure to hold back the branches or brambles that covered the trail in places. It was little used, these days, which was a pity, for it was such a beautiful destination, which should be shared.
It was not a long stretch of trail before they came out of the trees to a place where the rock path began to ascend up hill. It was not entirely steep, though one must be careful with their steps if they did not know where the footings were. Night was not the safest time to climb up here with someone who had never been, but Faeldor trusted in his own strength and balance and carefully held Gilwen by the hand. He made the way very slowly up, sure that she had taken each step before he took the next.
The lady was a quiet one, he thought to himself. He was used to his sisters, who could rattle on about anything and everything for ages. Well… perhaps he was no different; they were a talkative family. He liked this though, for even though she were quiet, she seemed very open to him; and perhaps he could say more with actions and this place that he had decided to take her, than he could have said with words anyway. She seemed an interesting woman though, and lovely indeed, for even in the dim lighting, her eyes and her smile shown as the stars. Her face was as lovely as her namesake. He was glad to bring her joy.
Not long after they had set off, they were nearly to the top of the incline, and when they approached the ledge of which he had told her. The stone was black in the night. Faeldor let down Gilwen’s hand, and felt along the wall for the grips, and finding them, he pulled himself easily up to make sure they were secure. Faeldor looked over the ledge, then dropped down again. “Come, I will help you up ahead of me,” he said, grasping both her hands. “If you do not mind, I will assist you. And there is an old root at the top to pull yourself up with. I will help you with your footing and you will not fall. It’s not difficult.” Then he laughed to himself. “Although, I have never attempted such while wearing a dress. I’m sure you should manage though, and our treasure awaits!”
“Not the Steward’s jewels, but the jewel of Eru Illuvatar,” he answered her. “The moon will be our treasure, and you will have never seen it so lovely as you do from above.”
He looked back to Gilwen, a gleam of joy in his eyes. “I know this well from my youth, though I have not been here often in the past years. It is difficult sometimes to summon enough energy at the end of the day. I’m sure you understand; do tell me if you are too tired to continue. There is no real climb save the last ledge, but there are good footholds, and I should say it is not but a foot taller than myself, and I will lend you my hands.”
By the time the two would make it to the top, the moon should be rising overhead, so even their descent would be more lighted. It also meant that they would reach the top just in time for what he had wished to show her. At the top of the ridge there was a small passage, which led through an old cavern in the mountain. Coming out on the other side of it was a path that led further up, to the top of Mount Mindolluin. They would not take that path now, for it was near a day’s journey to go up and down again. But the cave was to Faeldor’s delight, especially in the evening at this time of day when the moon rose full. He called it Feyla Isilmë, cave of moonlight in the ancient tongue, for when the moon rose and was large enough, the light cast through an opening in the rock and shone down to light one of the larger caverns. It was quite beautiful, and something his father had shown him as a boy. Faeldor looked back at the horses for a moment. Thissel had begun to graze among the grasses, and Lumiel was still watching the two humans. Gilwen’s hand was already warmly captured in his own, blessing of blessings, her dark eyes gleaming up at him in the dimming light. Expectant and carefree, depths piercing him, yet trusting. He began to lead the lady towards the path that followed along the rocky cliff wall.
He would not tell her of the cavern until they had reached the top, for he did not wish to startle her at saying they would enter a cavern in the night. He was pleased that she had trusted him though. He did not notice the roughness of her hand, but only the warmth of it as the chill breeze of late winter gusted over them. A wind which could cause the skin to prickle, and the ears to turn red with cold, though they both were properly bundled and dressed and neither had a thing to fear for it.
The cliff of Mount Mindolluin to the left, and the shadows of lofty fir trees and brush to the right, Faeldor stepped lightly through even the thickest of brush, and made sure to hold back the branches or brambles that covered the trail in places. It was little used, these days, which was a pity, for it was such a beautiful destination, which should be shared.
It was not a long stretch of trail before they came out of the trees to a place where the rock path began to ascend up hill. It was not entirely steep, though one must be careful with their steps if they did not know where the footings were. Night was not the safest time to climb up here with someone who had never been, but Faeldor trusted in his own strength and balance and carefully held Gilwen by the hand. He made the way very slowly up, sure that she had taken each step before he took the next.
The lady was a quiet one, he thought to himself. He was used to his sisters, who could rattle on about anything and everything for ages. Well… perhaps he was no different; they were a talkative family. He liked this though, for even though she were quiet, she seemed very open to him; and perhaps he could say more with actions and this place that he had decided to take her, than he could have said with words anyway. She seemed an interesting woman though, and lovely indeed, for even in the dim lighting, her eyes and her smile shown as the stars. Her face was as lovely as her namesake. He was glad to bring her joy.
Not long after they had set off, they were nearly to the top of the incline, and when they approached the ledge of which he had told her. The stone was black in the night. Faeldor let down Gilwen’s hand, and felt along the wall for the grips, and finding them, he pulled himself easily up to make sure they were secure. Faeldor looked over the ledge, then dropped down again. “Come, I will help you up ahead of me,” he said, grasping both her hands. “If you do not mind, I will assist you. And there is an old root at the top to pull yourself up with. I will help you with your footing and you will not fall. It’s not difficult.” Then he laughed to himself. “Although, I have never attempted such while wearing a dress. I’m sure you should manage though, and our treasure awaits!”
