Grey Eyes [Late March 3010] {Gilwen}
Mar 18, 2018 16:39:00 GMT -5
Post by Miriel on Mar 18, 2018 16:39:00 GMT -5
She had at times cracked the doorway of the room to look in when Faeldor had been out, always finding the woman asleep, allowing dreams and rest to heal her physical pains. Her brother had hardly left her bedside for three weeks, though today he had settled enough to part from the room for at least a portion of the day.
The house was still; cousins all about their daily tasks. Her Mother, siblings, grandparents had all moved out to the farm house. Miriel was alone about her business. Nobody would let her help around the house for sake of the baby, telling her to rest when she could. Miriel was restless though. She did not sleep well, even while the baby slept in the nights.
Faeldor had asked Miriel not to disturb Gilwen, when the topic had come up. He had kept all his siblings and cousins from the room, save Beleth who had forced her way in a few times now. Faeldor had not been inclined to argue with that sister in particular, for the role she and her husband had played in allowing them to get this far. Miriel did not test her brother; she wanted none of the fury that had been within him for Gilwen's sake, nor did she wish to drive him further into despair for her own sorrows. They were plain upon her face these days.
Miriel had little Melian curled in arm, her bright eyes seeking upward at her Mother's frowning face, though contentedly silent. Gilwen had been the first person she had given the babe's name to. She had felt the baby move within her, which had seemed like ages past. She would be the last to meet the child now that she was nearing three months of age.
She was always sleeping when she had looked; the curtains drawn and the room dark, though she had seen her Aunt up the stairway not long past to tend to her lunch, and when Miriel looked in from the doorway the sunlight was coming in through open drapes. Aunt Ivren had left Gilwen propped upon the bed, and Miriel's hazel eyes met brown.
It was the first she had seen them wide and open; the look not unfamiliar to her, for the many months Gilwen had spent mending in their home in Minas Tirith. They had become something of… well, not what Miriel could truly consider friends. She had no friends. She did not deserve friends. Though, she had grown a softness for Gilwen; much regret and pity within her.
At this point, Miriel hardly thought herself worth Gilwen's time. She had done too much damage to be worth anyone's time, and most of all the docile woman sitting on the bed. It was the opposite of her feelings of a year past, when Gilwen's worth was nothing to her though… her daughter. She was now Melian's aunt, and Gilwen had been looking forward to holding the baby those month's past. They had last spoken on Yule. Perhaps the babe could cheer her some. Melian's little grey eyes looked upward to Miriel, and she made a small sound, a single coo.
“Gilwen,” she voiced, almost a whisper. “Do you… wish to meet your niece? Melian is awake too.” Then looked behind her as if she were to see Faeldor ascending the stairwell and shooing her away. There were no footsteps however, as her brother had gone to the city some hours past to meet with Grandfather.
The house was still; cousins all about their daily tasks. Her Mother, siblings, grandparents had all moved out to the farm house. Miriel was alone about her business. Nobody would let her help around the house for sake of the baby, telling her to rest when she could. Miriel was restless though. She did not sleep well, even while the baby slept in the nights.
Faeldor had asked Miriel not to disturb Gilwen, when the topic had come up. He had kept all his siblings and cousins from the room, save Beleth who had forced her way in a few times now. Faeldor had not been inclined to argue with that sister in particular, for the role she and her husband had played in allowing them to get this far. Miriel did not test her brother; she wanted none of the fury that had been within him for Gilwen's sake, nor did she wish to drive him further into despair for her own sorrows. They were plain upon her face these days.
Miriel had little Melian curled in arm, her bright eyes seeking upward at her Mother's frowning face, though contentedly silent. Gilwen had been the first person she had given the babe's name to. She had felt the baby move within her, which had seemed like ages past. She would be the last to meet the child now that she was nearing three months of age.
She was always sleeping when she had looked; the curtains drawn and the room dark, though she had seen her Aunt up the stairway not long past to tend to her lunch, and when Miriel looked in from the doorway the sunlight was coming in through open drapes. Aunt Ivren had left Gilwen propped upon the bed, and Miriel's hazel eyes met brown.
It was the first she had seen them wide and open; the look not unfamiliar to her, for the many months Gilwen had spent mending in their home in Minas Tirith. They had become something of… well, not what Miriel could truly consider friends. She had no friends. She did not deserve friends. Though, she had grown a softness for Gilwen; much regret and pity within her.
At this point, Miriel hardly thought herself worth Gilwen's time. She had done too much damage to be worth anyone's time, and most of all the docile woman sitting on the bed. It was the opposite of her feelings of a year past, when Gilwen's worth was nothing to her though… her daughter. She was now Melian's aunt, and Gilwen had been looking forward to holding the baby those month's past. They had last spoken on Yule. Perhaps the babe could cheer her some. Melian's little grey eyes looked upward to Miriel, and she made a small sound, a single coo.
“Gilwen,” she voiced, almost a whisper. “Do you… wish to meet your niece? Melian is awake too.” Then looked behind her as if she were to see Faeldor ascending the stairwell and shooing her away. There were no footsteps however, as her brother had gone to the city some hours past to meet with Grandfather.
