Post by gloamingmerle on Apr 8, 2007 14:24:00 GMT -5
I'm working on a story of the events leading up to Eäronóna's decision to leave the Grey Havens and head east. I would very much like feedback. Here's what I have thus far:
"What troubles you, my young friend?" came the gentle voice of Círdan as he approached his apprentice and assistant, Eäronóna.
"Nothing, my Lord..." he replied softly, while his eyes remained fixed on the wide expanse of water beyond the docks of Mithlond, on which they stood alone. For a moment, while each were deep in their thoughts, all that could've been heard by mortal ears was the lapping of water, but for elven ears there was the distant but distinct sound of music and mirth.
"Then why do you hide from tonight's merry making?" Círdan asked skeptically as he folded his arms lightly over his long white beard.
"Hiding?" Eäron chirped with surprise. "Then I hide in plain sight!" he announced, gesturing with arms spread wide as he finally turned to face his Lord, but once he saw disapproval at his attempt to coat the situation with humor, his arms lowered and the short-lived smile died on his lips.
"Forgive me, my Lord. My heart is not glad tonight, even amongst song and laughter. I hoped that watching the gems of Elbereth dance upon water would soothe me," he explained honestly, his head bowed lightly with respect and apology.
"And has it?" ask Círdan as he gathered Eäronóna's slouching shoulders within the half-circle of his arm.
"Some," he answered, lifting his gaze to his old friend and Lord, offering a faint smile of appreciation. When he had crept away from the festivities like a shadow, he knew there was a chance of being followed, for he was often as clear and naked as water before Círdan's wise eyes. Nonetheless, the appearance of Círdan was not wholly unwelcome.
"Tell me now, what has made you seek solitude on this night?" he ventured once more.
Eäron's smile faded as he gazed upon the gentle dark water twinkling with stars.
"How do you stand it, my Lord? So close, yet so far away, awaiting the end of our use in Middle-Earth like an old war-horse," he questioned solemnly.
Círdan sighed, drawing Eäronóna more firmly into the crook of his arm, and looked towards the western horizon.
"I greatly desire to look upon the shores of Aman, yet I am stayed. For although Vingilot glitters now in the twilight and the morning like a star, I do not feel my work here shall be complete until the last ship sails from this haven," he explained with a soft tone.
"You take comfort in your foresight... What then do I have?" he asked despairingly, escaping the shelter of his mentor's consoling grasp to look at him as an equal. Círdan remained calm and patient despite the demand flaring in the other's desperate grey eyes.
"Eäronóna," he said with carefully measured sterness to impress the importance of his next words on his listener, "Either you forget or take for granted the nature of your begetting and birth... After your mother and father wed, they tried and failed to have children, until finally their thoughts turned to other things out of necessity. It was far beyond the traditional time of children for elven couples when, for either desire or hope, your parents reunited in body once more and were gifted with your spirit as if on the eve of doom. It was with such seriousness that your mother declared your name, that all who were glad to behold you fell into thoughtful silence."
Eäron's eyes were instantly free of their previous fire, and promptly lowered in shame. "Ever have I lived in the deepening shadows of the east, feeling it's dreadful weight upon me... Nana compares me to the greatness of the Sea, yet I am utterly unsure of my purpose."
Círdan reached out and gave Eäronóna's shoulder a comforting squeeze, "The depths of the Sea are deep and clouded with mystery. None save Ulmo can comprehend it fully."
***
"What troubles you, my young friend?" came the gentle voice of Círdan as he approached his apprentice and assistant, Eäronóna.
"Nothing, my Lord..." he replied softly, while his eyes remained fixed on the wide expanse of water beyond the docks of Mithlond, on which they stood alone. For a moment, while each were deep in their thoughts, all that could've been heard by mortal ears was the lapping of water, but for elven ears there was the distant but distinct sound of music and mirth.
"Then why do you hide from tonight's merry making?" Círdan asked skeptically as he folded his arms lightly over his long white beard.
"Hiding?" Eäron chirped with surprise. "Then I hide in plain sight!" he announced, gesturing with arms spread wide as he finally turned to face his Lord, but once he saw disapproval at his attempt to coat the situation with humor, his arms lowered and the short-lived smile died on his lips.
"Forgive me, my Lord. My heart is not glad tonight, even amongst song and laughter. I hoped that watching the gems of Elbereth dance upon water would soothe me," he explained honestly, his head bowed lightly with respect and apology.
"And has it?" ask Círdan as he gathered Eäronóna's slouching shoulders within the half-circle of his arm.
"Some," he answered, lifting his gaze to his old friend and Lord, offering a faint smile of appreciation. When he had crept away from the festivities like a shadow, he knew there was a chance of being followed, for he was often as clear and naked as water before Círdan's wise eyes. Nonetheless, the appearance of Círdan was not wholly unwelcome.
"Tell me now, what has made you seek solitude on this night?" he ventured once more.
Eäron's smile faded as he gazed upon the gentle dark water twinkling with stars.
"How do you stand it, my Lord? So close, yet so far away, awaiting the end of our use in Middle-Earth like an old war-horse," he questioned solemnly.
Círdan sighed, drawing Eäronóna more firmly into the crook of his arm, and looked towards the western horizon.
"I greatly desire to look upon the shores of Aman, yet I am stayed. For although Vingilot glitters now in the twilight and the morning like a star, I do not feel my work here shall be complete until the last ship sails from this haven," he explained with a soft tone.
"You take comfort in your foresight... What then do I have?" he asked despairingly, escaping the shelter of his mentor's consoling grasp to look at him as an equal. Círdan remained calm and patient despite the demand flaring in the other's desperate grey eyes.
"Eäronóna," he said with carefully measured sterness to impress the importance of his next words on his listener, "Either you forget or take for granted the nature of your begetting and birth... After your mother and father wed, they tried and failed to have children, until finally their thoughts turned to other things out of necessity. It was far beyond the traditional time of children for elven couples when, for either desire or hope, your parents reunited in body once more and were gifted with your spirit as if on the eve of doom. It was with such seriousness that your mother declared your name, that all who were glad to behold you fell into thoughtful silence."
Eäron's eyes were instantly free of their previous fire, and promptly lowered in shame. "Ever have I lived in the deepening shadows of the east, feeling it's dreadful weight upon me... Nana compares me to the greatness of the Sea, yet I am utterly unsure of my purpose."
Círdan reached out and gave Eäronóna's shoulder a comforting squeeze, "The depths of the Sea are deep and clouded with mystery. None save Ulmo can comprehend it fully."