Lovers, Lore and Loss [Elrohir/open elves][winter TA 2711]
Jul 19, 2018 20:30:32 GMT -5
Post by Fenion on Jul 19, 2018 20:30:32 GMT -5
It was that Elrohir had a smile upon his face for Fenion, and Fenion beamed right back at he, a chuckle for the small affection that he paid the elleth who was to be his bonded wife this day. At the end of his tune with Aradeth he offered a wave off of his hand to those who had thought to clap for it, palm raised to the Lady Tauriel as she asked of whom was the fox and who the wolf.
“It was merely a note to your hair, my Lady,” he grinned. “In my imagination it was the blackest of wolves and the reddest of foxes though now that you mention...” he placed a thoughtful finger to his chin. “I have not known Elrohir a lifetime but to realize he does bear the slyness of a fox, and you I hear… Tauriel, if I may call you, I hear you are nothing shy of of a wolf yourself when it comes to your work in the armed guard. Perhaps I should think twice before naming a song on something so egotistic as the color of your hair.”
Fenion glanced as the Prince of the Woodland Realm himself stepped toward them, bringing greetings from his Adar to the east. Sullen was his face, and Fenion held his breath for a moment, still beaming in smile though inwardly growing uneasy as he saw the looks passing between the other three elves.
“Well, I shall be back to my music. We shall have plenty for you tonight. Any requests for the couple do bring to me,” he breathed quietly, a quick and hesitant nod to Elrohir even as he he watched the greeting Tauriel gave Legolas. The kiss the cheek. His brow raised slightly; he could not control himself, and sensing the tension in the air he turned quick on his heals, breathing sigh as he moved back to where his wife sat at her harp.
Aradeth was waiting there for him, and a kiss to her own cheek as she laughed airily, he felt his tension ease. A friend no finer than a wife, indeed his words to Elrohir had been true, for he shared just that with his own, and he plucked his flute from his pocket. A whispered word from he to her and the room was soon filled with the soft background music of harp and the flute of Gondolin played in tune.
“It was merely a note to your hair, my Lady,” he grinned. “In my imagination it was the blackest of wolves and the reddest of foxes though now that you mention...” he placed a thoughtful finger to his chin. “I have not known Elrohir a lifetime but to realize he does bear the slyness of a fox, and you I hear… Tauriel, if I may call you, I hear you are nothing shy of of a wolf yourself when it comes to your work in the armed guard. Perhaps I should think twice before naming a song on something so egotistic as the color of your hair.”
Fenion glanced as the Prince of the Woodland Realm himself stepped toward them, bringing greetings from his Adar to the east. Sullen was his face, and Fenion held his breath for a moment, still beaming in smile though inwardly growing uneasy as he saw the looks passing between the other three elves.
“Well, I shall be back to my music. We shall have plenty for you tonight. Any requests for the couple do bring to me,” he breathed quietly, a quick and hesitant nod to Elrohir even as he he watched the greeting Tauriel gave Legolas. The kiss the cheek. His brow raised slightly; he could not control himself, and sensing the tension in the air he turned quick on his heals, breathing sigh as he moved back to where his wife sat at her harp.
Aradeth was waiting there for him, and a kiss to her own cheek as she laughed airily, he felt his tension ease. A friend no finer than a wife, indeed his words to Elrohir had been true, for he shared just that with his own, and he plucked his flute from his pocket. A whispered word from he to her and the room was soon filled with the soft background music of harp and the flute of Gondolin played in tune.