| Subject: Walking in the Garden |
Author:
Laeriel
| [ Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
Date Posted: 16:38:13 05/09/02 Thu
Flowers filled the air as Laeriel walked through the garden. The cool earth felt wonderful under her bare feet, and she was thankful to be outside. The healers treated her as a child. They kept her locked away in that house for days, she had to beg to get a chair by the window. And when she got that chair, she spent everyday sitting there, wishing she were outdoors. Now as the late morning breeze danced through her hair, she was grateful the healers had let her leave her room at the least. She smiled when she thought of them. The main healers were men, but the women took care of her most of the time. They were round happy women, plump and well into their 40's, with many children. They treated her as a child's doll, she had borne many different types of clothing since she arrived, everything the healing maids could get heir hands on. Today she wore a loose flowing silver dress, with a shimmery silver rope around her waist. Her sleeves were long and loose, and moved down her arms when she raised them. They all thought her very beautiful, but somehow, none seemed threatened by her. Either that, or they fancied her for her infectious personality, so much so that her beauty did not frighten them or make them insecure. It could just be that they were all older, lower class women, with happy large families. Either way, Laeriel loved them all. The very thought of them made her smile.
Laeriel felt the wind blow through her hair and rustle her skirt. She smiled, if only she had a friend to talk to. Even someone who wasn't a friend. That made her think of Lómódë and how unkind Laeriel had been. She let her temper get the best of her, again. Sahrien often told her she was too quick to judge. She sighed, everyone always had some sort of criticism for her, something to tell her so that she may "fix" herself. Even her beloved sister and most trusted friend couldn't resist the temptation to criticize Laeriel's quick temper and harsh judgment. Now Laeriel remembered why she was so keen to leave. Perhaps the only person she didn't need to get away from was Rhylin. He never had any harsh words to say to her. Actually, he had few words to say at all, he wasn't much for talking. Laeriel smiled at the thought of him. Poor, dear old Rhylin. He was probably lonely without her there. She was gone and Arracus often became so entangled in his own matters, and Rhylin had few other friends. Slient Rhylin, one of her most dear friends.
A friend, and nothing more.
She didn't think that to be a problem for years. Rhylin was her friend, they had known eachother since before most could remember. They'd always stay that way.
That's what she thought, at least.
Sahrien was the first to point it out to her, how much Rhylin cared. He would seek her out, and only her. He'd do anything for her, at whatever cost to himself. And all the time, Laeriel walked foward, blind to the way he looked at her. She didn't want to see it. It would ruin everything. She, being so beautiful, had had many admires before, but none of her friends. Thinking about it made her angry.
She was so angry that she didn't notice the disterbance in the air right away. It was so subtle. Then she felt it, it moved through the trees, it made the ground shake. The trees screamed and the animals hid. It was coming closer. Not for her, though, for someone near. It was coming closer every second. Beads of sweat formed on Laeriel's forehead. Her breathing became labored and her heart beat a thousand beats a second. She didn't know what to do, she did not want to be anywhere near it. It made her weak, the very thought of it drove her to madness. Why was it here? Who called it? Who in this palace would dare to call Hfäinién? Hfäinién often came to faeries, but never to her. It couldn't come to her. Nor any women before her. The women in her family were too sensitive to it's power, it overtook them. It drove her mother into madness. Laeriel feared it more than she feared the wrath of a thousand armies. She trusted no one here to control it, no one anywhere, save Rhylin, perhaps. She wished at this momment Rhylin was here. She looked around, no where to hide, no where to go. She didn the only thing she could to, she ran.
She didn't know how long she ran, or how far. She just knew when it was over she stopped. It's presence was gone, the air was still. Laeriel was still shaking with horror, how could she have acted so? Hfäinién was not new to faeries, she need not be afraid. Despite that, she still could not stop the tears that blurred her vision, and her shaking hands. All at once she colapsed under a tree, she curled herself up in it's large roots. It was cold, despite the fact that it was close to noon. The autumn air blew, and chilled her to the bone. Then, Laeriel knew why she had been so afraid. When she felt Hfäinién was the only time she remembered her mother. And those memories were one's she'd like to forget.
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
] |
|
Feedback: 