Buckets and Babbles (June 3010) [Orodreth]
May 14, 2018 14:17:24 GMT -5
Post by Miriel on May 14, 2018 14:17:24 GMT -5
Miriel saw the shake of his head, and waited; as it seemed he would speak, and indeed he did.
“No, I do not. I do not have a wife and children. I..have never married. I don’t believe anyone would marry a man who cannot work because of lost sight.”
She paused, her lips a thin line. “It is unfortunate,” she decided to state. Though, indeed she found it no wonder. A blind man could not provide; it was true, there were few tasks one could do while blind.
“My grandfather is blind,” she added. “A disease of the eyes, most uncommon. He always struggled. He plays music now. Sings. There are a few things one could do.” A glance about the room had told Miriel however that Orodreth had been a soldier. Remnants of his past were strewn about.
“I had hoped that one day I would have a child, but I think the gods have something else in mind for my fate.”
Miriel scoffed. “We make our own fates; by our actions. The Valar no longer intercede in the lives of the Faithful. If ever they did. Curses on the Valar.” Her face was set in pallid grimace, and she turned back for the hall to fetch her buckets and haul them sloshing back into the room, glancing back down the hall, and shutting the door behind her.
Never would she have said such a blasphemy in front of her family, for they were wholly devoted in their minds to Eru Illuvatar and his Valar, but to Miriel's mind they were far off; a fabrication. Perhaps they had never been real at all.
Melian reached up her hand seeking the dark beard of the man, tugging with small fingers at the hair upon his chin. Miriel settled the buckets on floor and looked over, frowning. Then took two steps forward to reach and loose the baby's finger's from his beard, taking a moment to untangle them. “Don't let her do that. Faeldor lets her; she'll catch a bad habit of it,” Miriel chided.
The baby laughed, and her hand waved and flailed in the air as she grabbed again, this time catching Orodreth's finger, wrapping her whole tiny hand around it, and squealing. Miriel spun to hastily grasp hold of her cleaning rags and set to work scrubbing the walls.
“No, I do not. I do not have a wife and children. I..have never married. I don’t believe anyone would marry a man who cannot work because of lost sight.”
She paused, her lips a thin line. “It is unfortunate,” she decided to state. Though, indeed she found it no wonder. A blind man could not provide; it was true, there were few tasks one could do while blind.
“My grandfather is blind,” she added. “A disease of the eyes, most uncommon. He always struggled. He plays music now. Sings. There are a few things one could do.” A glance about the room had told Miriel however that Orodreth had been a soldier. Remnants of his past were strewn about.
“I had hoped that one day I would have a child, but I think the gods have something else in mind for my fate.”
Miriel scoffed. “We make our own fates; by our actions. The Valar no longer intercede in the lives of the Faithful. If ever they did. Curses on the Valar.” Her face was set in pallid grimace, and she turned back for the hall to fetch her buckets and haul them sloshing back into the room, glancing back down the hall, and shutting the door behind her.
Never would she have said such a blasphemy in front of her family, for they were wholly devoted in their minds to Eru Illuvatar and his Valar, but to Miriel's mind they were far off; a fabrication. Perhaps they had never been real at all.
Melian reached up her hand seeking the dark beard of the man, tugging with small fingers at the hair upon his chin. Miriel settled the buckets on floor and looked over, frowning. Then took two steps forward to reach and loose the baby's finger's from his beard, taking a moment to untangle them. “Don't let her do that. Faeldor lets her; she'll catch a bad habit of it,” Miriel chided.
The baby laughed, and her hand waved and flailed in the air as she grabbed again, this time catching Orodreth's finger, wrapping her whole tiny hand around it, and squealing. Miriel spun to hastily grasp hold of her cleaning rags and set to work scrubbing the walls.