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Author Topic: Cold Things in the Water  (Read 567 times)


  • Guest
Cold Things in the Water
« on: May 08, 2016, 10:08:07 PM »
She probably still loved him. He could say it, in the brief moments of clarity, by the gentleness of her motions as she replaced the bloody bandages on his hand, the manner in which she occasionally turned around to make certain he followed her ahorse. She probably... Probably did, he hoped, he trusted, he might have done.
He couldn't remember how it felt to feel. Dead, desensitized, smothered by the stench of athelas and smoke, a still statue of ruined marble. The walking, talking, breathing dead, standing on a very narrow, crumbling precipice all the while wicked swords dotted the abysmal landscape below, glimmering with the blood of a thousand unburied dead. Calling out, to the depth, to take him. Relieve him of that... Burden.
Every motion was a closely measured mechanism of tired muscle and frail bone. The earth smelled of rotting leaves, the sky of night and rain. Cold things. Even the churning little stream sounded strained, too sharp to be cheerful, and anxious to leave these dark parts already; the undergrowth he collapsed into was moist and thick, but none too soft. The bark of the tree behind his back was rough, too; his hair, growing out again, had caught on it, but he seemed to mind little. Once more, his eyes were still frosted glass.

The huntress' hand brushed stray black hairs behind his ear, exposing the perfect marble white that still remained unspoiled. And wished that she would not have to tend to a corpse, releasing the still air from her lungs. He did not even spare her a look. But that meant nothing, this all meant nothing. Perhaps Faindir was right, and things would eventually settle back into their right places, the way they were before.
She pressed her lips on his cheek, letting them linger for just long enough to feel the warmth, and withdrew again, getting about preparing some rabbit for dinner. They had to eat, and food was getting scarce these days, with the coming of winter... The first snows would fall before they would reach the Havens, that was becoming clear. If they were caught too far north, only the Valar knew...
She stirred the flames with a stick, turning the little chunks of meat around as she huddled deeper into her cape. She had sent Faindir off to gather firewood, but forbade him to go further than within an eye's sight away from their encampment. All the while, it seemed that Carnárë had not moved since she helped him from the saddle, curled up in his stained, sable-lined cloak, with his knees pressed to his chest and dark, sunken eyes.
She shook her head, instead facing the woods, and called for her son to come back.

It was indeed getting dark, and the simmering little flame that emitted more smoke than heat did little to avail that. The nights came early, and they would come earlier still with every rise of the Sun. And perhaps one day, she would not rise at all. He could not wipe the image of a world, beset by a starless void, from the inside of his eyelids, seeing nothing but black and red, a crumbling ashen waste under two broken and charred vessels that slowly floated from the skies. His father had told him of the bright days under the light of the Trees, but he was a dutiful teacher, and omitted none of the Darkening, either...
Darkening. The skies were darkening, he saw. Breathed the cool air, the smell of roast rabbit mingling with the wetness of hardy weeds and evergreens, bare-leafed oaks, damp bark and shrill, cold wind. Breathed. Softly ran his fingers over the grass, the edges of his own garment. Watched the two figures by the fire, indistinctly realizing they are his wife and son, but did not speak. Could not muster the will...
Ah, what even was will. He was but a ghost in the mist that slowly drifted through this dreamlike, dull world, keeping his eyes open to try and replace the faces of the dead with that of his son. His own blood and flesh. His, his own, he had a duty, a responsibility, one last thing to do.
When Faindir could find his way through the world, then, then he could die.

Die, die, die, but how could he? Was he not already? He might have been, and this the grotesque dream of a purgatory, it could surely explain... Some things. A great many of them, too. Ah, so very still it all was.
The sight of the fire faded when Faervel's back covered its fading tongues. He knew the routine already; she would remove the sling from his arm, unwrap the gauze, place fresh green herbs on the red ruin of his hand, and silently, softly bandage it again, the same thing she did every evening. He never complained, never cried out, hardly even flinched these days, his hands numb and without feeling from the cold.
Was that the true reason?
And now he smelled blood from wounds that healed too slowly, bones that still ached, skin that took its time to fix things that should have been already dead. He leaned his head back against the tree. The cold air was almost a cruel thing once she removed the wraps. And yet... Stilling, and in a way liberating.
Feeling would have been too tiring.
To sleep, dreamless and forever, would be a more liberating fate.

He almost didn't notice when Faindir came closer, taking note merely by the slight shift of light in the corner of his eye.
« Last Edit: November 19, 2016, 08:15:06 PM by Caranor »


  • Elves
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  • Alias: Loki
  • Application: Plotter
  • Plotter: Plotter
Re: Cold Things in the Water
« Reply #1 on: January 19, 2017, 07:39:30 AM »
Things... had certainly changed, and it was looking like they had changed for the worse. Faindir was young yet, bright and smart for his age. He could see these changes within his family, within his atya. Though he didn't want to think of the worse, he wanted to bring some assurance that things would be alright within their family. Fai had tried all he could to raise his parents spirits however he could. It wasn't easy, and everything he tried didn't seem to necessarily work. But he didn't want to give up, even if he fully didn't understand the things that happened to his father, the things that he has seen. All he could do is hope for the better, and try to keep that hope instilled in his mother. She was working hard in caring for them both, as Carnare, the love of her life, was going through some hard times.

Faindir tried his best to help her in whatever ways he could, always offering a helping hand in hopes to lighten the weight that had been on her shoulders. He wasn't sure when his atya would be better, but he had hopes in him recovering through the tough times they were facing. He had to, for it seemed he was the only one with hope left and he tried to share that childish hope he clung to.

With them settling for the night, he had been asked to find more firewood, which he didn't complain about. He was here to help his mother best he could and if finding firewood was what he could do for her right now, he did. He had lingered around the tree lines, picking up what wood he could find and ignoring the cold that bit at his fingers. Sure, the weather was getting colder by the nights but he knew that this was nothing compared to what his father had gone through. Sometimes he wondered exactly what had happened that made his father this way, though he never spoke of these wonders. He knew some things were better left unsaid and if whatever had happened had his father in a state like this, it was nothing good nor anything he should want to know.

But sometimes he had to wonder, simply because he wanted to find a solution, something that could bring hope to their family again. Often at times like this, seeing his father in the state he was, he felt that his own hope was going to fade away like the fires that were left behind. But no, he couldn't let that happen, not if it meant there was a chance he could possibly change all this. And oh how he wanted this to change; the silence, the heartache and the doom that quietly lurked over them, doom he didn't yet see nor wouldn't know until later.

He could smell the rabbit that had been cooking, and this reminded him of the hunger he didn't really pay mind to. His mind was far too wrapped up in what he could do to change this dreadful night that food was the last thing on his mind. With the darkness coming, he was beckoned back to camp and he grabbed what firewood he could manage to find and carry and moved along back. He placed the small pile down, those bright blues looking up towards his mother. "This is all I can find, nana..." His soft, meek voice finally broke the silence that always seemed to loom over them. It started to feel like if he wasn't the one talking, silence would haunt them. He wasn't sure if silence was good, if it was what they needed but he often felt telling stories or singing a little song he learned would raise spirits more.

They didn't, no matter how hard he tried, they never did...

With it time to change his father's bandages, moved to sit closer to the man he loved more than anything, watching his mother change the bandages quietly. He wasn't sure what to say, as often his stories felt unheard, his voice unnoticed at times. But he wanted to do something.. There had to be something, something that would, if not cheer up, at least lighten up his father. But what? No poem, no song, no story he's heard has worked and they were all things his father has already heard time after time after time.

Right now, he felt all he could do was stare at his father with a sadden gaze, a gaze that felt like giving up despite the fight he was putting out. He couldn't give up, not when it came to his family.

"Tata..." His voice finally rang through, addressing his atya now as those jewels stared up at him with whatever hope he could muster. "I saw a deer today... It was running through the forest when I went to go get the wood." A small smile crept up on his features as he thought of the creature that pranced away at the sight of camp. "It was small, smaller than I expected but it was probably young..." He wasn't sure how this would help but at this point, he wanted to talk about anything he could, anything to keep his mind off of the sadness that dwell deep inside.

(Sorry for the wait, Ana darling! I wasn't sure where to go with Fai's post but I do hope this is alright. ;u; )

Played by Loki

Tags: loki faindir beleriand