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Old 04-19-2006, 09:30 AM   #243
Feanor of the Peredhil
La Belle Dame sans Merci
 
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Feanor of the Peredhil is a guest of Elrond in Rivendell.Feanor of the Peredhil is a guest of Elrond in Rivendell.Feanor of the Peredhil is a guest of Elrond in Rivendell.
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After checking the Lčođern for injuries at her fall, Degas allowed himself to be led away, his mind still connected to the music just as his hand was to the enraptured little girl beside him. While the musician had played a few off notes, Degas doubted that any but a practiced ear had noticed. He spotted a hiccup of breath as the man played, his well-experienced eye recognizing a hidden cough when he saw one; the player was ill. The instrument, though, that was of high quality, and that was what caught Degas's eye. He'd spotted a maker's mark just below the mouth piece and wondered at how its owner had acquired it. Degas's own was by the same maker and he'd gone through much to secure it, tracking down the reclusive craftsman and convincing him more through words and play than through gold, that he was worthy of the flute. Degas wondered if the people now surrounding him realized the worth of the instrument they had just heard, or the talent of the man who played it. His own fingers now itched to dance on his own pipes, or to pick a melody from a harp. Music he'd not played in weeks played through his head. He remembered late nights in Gondor's halls as he'd entertained his fellow lords and their ladies.

He was brought from his reverie by Lčođern's excited giggle and a sharp intake of breath from Linduial. A full table of shimmering jewels set within delicate laces of gold and silver had caught their eyes. Degas picked up one necklace, a silver one set with emerald, and allowed the fine chain to fall across his fingers.

"What think you?" he asked Lin. "Does anything catch your interest?"

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A dream. The words would not leave Saeryn's head. They began quickly to take on the rhythm of her scrubbing. I had hoped [scrub] to tell you my [scrub] dream last night. His words could not have tantalized her more if they had been the most irresistible sweets or promises a man could offer. [scrub] Intent to finish her job, she tried to push the words away, but Eodwine's voice filled her ears and his eyes filled her own. She was cold, hidden away in shadows. But the work needs doing, she told herself. [scrub] If I don't, someone else must. Why should they work while I play? Someone must work so that the young ones may escape into adventure for the day. Though she told herself this, she barely believed it. She could not understand her own stubborn refusal to let herself enjoy the fair. His dream.

Saeryn knew that Kara's kitchen was stocked. [scrub] She and the girl had talked over a small breakfast. Saeryn had been nearly unwilling to eat, not in the mood to take breaks or chat, but Kara had insisted and Saeryn was, after all, hungry... once she'd slowed down enough to notice. After Kara left, looking satisfied that Saeryn would not, at least, faint, Saeryn went back to work. Guests sought her out when they were in need... [scrub] she'd discovered it early, and appreciated the gesture. It saved her making rounds as often. Her job as hostess [scrub], keeping things running smoothly and caring for the household came too easily for her taste. She felt as though she were barely working. An oath sworn to her and a home to live in, food at every meal, a warm bed to sleep in, and nearly nothing asked in return. Saeryn felt unworthy, and she was uncertain why.

She'd been given all rights and privileges in the Folde with Fenrir, but she had paid for them several times over with sacrificed privileges of other sorts. Here, in Eodwine's home, she could do any sort of thing she desired. The freedom frightened her, almost, and she set her own limits to keep from merely floating away upon the plains breeze.

I had hoped to tell you my dream last night.

She picked up her cleaning supplies, standing and stretching. Her knees ached and her nose burned from the smell of the harsh soap. Her hands felt raw and looked red in the flickering lamp light. She wanted to hear that dream.

Climbing the stairs carefully, she fought herself for a moment. Decision made upon the top step, she finished her chore, stepping out the back door of the building and tossing her filthy washwater away and placing all else wheresoever it belonged. Disappearing into her room for a moment, she unbelted her breeches and unbuttoned her shirt quickly, removing her damp and dirty clothes. She folded them carefully and set them aside to wash, standing in thought for a moment. A dream... The fair...

She remembered her favorite gown as she washed, one light and scarlet and delicately embroidered with black and gold thread. Curls of careful stitching decorated the dipping neckline. She pulled it over her head and followed it with a soft black corset, fumbling with aching fingers to secure its ties. She untied her hair, finger combing her plait loose. Standing in the warm sunlight she blinked the darkness away from her eyes. She rubbed her cheeks briskly, waking herself to the daylight, and pulled a pair of soft slippers on. She closed her door quietly and went to the kitchen. Much the cook already, Kara tended to know more of each person's whereabouts than did even Saeryn.

"He's gone to the fair." the girl said, seeing Saeryn. She made no comment of the swift change, of the loose curls or the slender waist accented by the gown. Saeryn thanked her, making her way through the halls to the door. She wanted to hear that dream.

Opening the door, she blinked away the sudden burst of sunlight. People were everywhere. How could she ever find him in this crowd?

Last edited by Feanor of the Peredhil; 04-19-2006 at 02:02 PM.
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