Maeglian
In the dark
Registered: Oct 2002
Location: Out of sight, out of mind
Posts: 505 |
I have actually tried to write a vignette.  Inspired by the upcoming holiday season where many probably will be vacationing away from internet access, and by Lily's copyshop incident vignette. 
It’s early evening, and you have retired to your room for a while, to pack the belongings that you will bring along on the journey to the mainland. The small trunk now stands ready outside the still-ajar door. Yet instead of rejoining your sisters in the main hall, you sit down pensively on the bed, feeling excitement and energy draining from you. You have kept very busy, partly so as to hold nagging worries at bay, but now there is time for reflection. You pass one hand lightly over the quilted bedspread. The quilt has a lively and random pattern of wildflowers, all of them in vivid and varied shades of blue: Bluebells, violets, cornflowers, forget-me-nots……
The brilliant colours may not in any way compare to those of the opals you know to be gleaming in the white sands of the mainland beaches. Tomorrow you will travel there. You will see all the marvels: Sparkling jewels in the sand, beautiful gardens adorned with flowers and glittering fountains, the softly sighing trees. Yet the quilt’s many shades of blue remind you only of your reason for choosing those particular flowers for your bed. With every nuance you tried to capture a small part of the brilliance that is Frodo’s eyes.
You look at the quilted forget-me-nots, and feel a lump growing in your throat. You sniffle, and your vision blurs as you look down at your hand, moving over the flowers in a soft caress.
- “Are you all packed? Won’t you……… Oh, my dear, is anything the matter?”
You’re completely taken by surprise. You didn’t hear him approaching in the hallway or pushing the door open; - he moves so silently. Frantically you wipe at your eyes while trying to look happily unconcerned.
- “Nothing; it’s nothing. I’m just thinking through whether I’ve packed everything.” You give a small, shaky laugh. – “I’ve probably packed far too much. All sorts of things and clothes that I won’t even………need…..”
He doesn’t answer, but steps into the room, closes the door, walks quietly over to the bed and sits down next to you. You feel miserable. He wasn’t supposed to see you like this.
He takes your hand, holds it for a moment without speaking, and then asks in that special soft, calm voice: - “My dear, what is wrong? Aren’t you looking forward to your holiday?
- “Yes of course I am! It will be exiting, wonderful!” You realize you are speaking too loudly, a bit too breathlessly and rapidly, and stop, confused.
He starts stroking your hand gently, as if trying to calm a small, frightened animal. – “Tell me,” he says, as if you haven’t responded at all to his question.
You swallow and have to fight that treacherous lump in your throat before you manage to whisper: - “I’m afraid……. I’m afraid that you’ll forget me, if I go away!”
He looks into your eyes searchingly, and continues stroking your hand. His only response is a small eyebrow movement, perhaps signaling surprise. But his face remains serious and attentive. Oh, how will you bear to leave him, to leave everyone here, leave the joy and friendships and love, how will you survive away from that beautiful face, those amazing eyes, even if it’s only for one month?
You move closer to him, leaning your head against his shoulder, burrowing your face for a moment against the clean-smelling cotton of his shirt, and then you dejectedly start twisting his third button down from the collar. If Frodo is worried for his shirt, or if he’s pondering whether this will now become the most common way in which he’ll lose his buttons, he gives no sign. He waits, patiently.
- “There are so many lasses who care for you here, and they are all so beautiful, and talented, and witty….. and inventive….and…and there is always so much happening here….” As you give voice to your worries, you continue to twist at the button, without looking up. He reaches up and places one finger lightly over your lips for a moment. He gives the tiniest shake of his head, and smiles a little.
- “That is all very true. Yet there is even more happening where you are going, and so many new things that you will enjoy, and see, and experience. Isn’t it more likely that *you* will forget *us*?
- “Forget you? Never! Not even if I never were to see any of you again! Not if every elf in Aman spent their long lives delighting, surprising and entertaining me!” Indignation at the very idea makes you bristle.
- “Hush,” he whispers gently. – “We all feel the same. I feel the same. I will not forget you. It doesn’t matter how many lasses live here, there is never one too many. You are all special to me. And whenever one of you is gone, she is missed, and her return is eagerly anticipated by all. Everyone will want to hear you tell of the wonders you have seen, the stories you have heard, and to learn the new songs you will be bringing back. We will be all the richer when you come back to us."
You sniffle one last time, and look him straight in the eyes. You know in your heart that he is speaking no more than plain truth, and reassurance and relief break through you like a wave.
Just then, the button you’ve been twisting comes loose in your hand. Looking at it a little sheepishly, you realize that this in fact gives your hands quite alluring access to his skin, and also that it provides you with an excellent opportunity for instant and complete shirt removal. After all, he *is* sitting close to you on your very own bed. You need only give him a small push, and…….
You feel yourself blushing furiously, and look up to find him leaning in, with that unmistakable mischievous glint in his eyes. He is so close that you can feel his soft breath on your own lips.
- “We shall simply have to think of some way to make our parting especially memorable,” he murmurs, touching your lips with his for the briefest of moments, his hands now moving on your back in a caress that pulls your body up against his. – “Mmmm…..yes; - something that we won’t be able to forget for a very long time.”
You would have spoken your wholehearted agreement, but you find that your ability to form coherent sentences has suddenly and completely left you. And at any rate, your lips are already otherwise and much more pleasantly engaged.
__________________
Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
When you think everything's okay and everything's going right
And life has a funny way of helping you out when
You think everything's gone wrong and everything blows up in your face
~ Alanis Morissette, "Ironic"
Last edited by Maeglian on 06-21-2003 at 09:23 AM
Report this post to a moderator | IP: Logged
|
And Alexi deserved to win...he really did...he was awesome. Actually I got to see Elvis up close and personal at an autograph session.....
06-19-2003 10:58 PM
Not nice!
)
