Since this was the last part of a much longer log, it is lacking a set. FYI.
Bright green eyes linger on the tents as well a moment longer, ere they shift
swiftly like dragonflies to return comfortably to Lothdaimoth's face. "You
aren't angry with me, but you wanted to talk to me...?" she queries curiously,
head tilting aside.
"Walk with me?" Lothdaimoth invites in response. "I was on my way home when I
stopped here.." He begins across the lawn towards the broad stairs, tugging on
her hand as he goes.
"Of course," Caelwen lilts, and she follows him, fingers tightening on his.
Marble Stairway
Clear as the sky on a summer's day are the white steps of the marble stairway.
Almost at the top of the, one can enjoy a spectacular view over Caras Galadon
and its winding paths. Silver lanterns kindly illuminate the steps, and small
platforms to the side, holding wooden benches assure a warm atmosphere, where
one may wish to sit down for a moment, and enjoy the view.
Down the stairs they go, hand in hand and now and then, Lothdaimoth glances
over at his cousin and smiles. "I love you," he says at last, after many
moments have passed in companionable silence.
Caelwen's skirts fan out behind them on the steps in dark silver like the
shadow of the moon. Her eyes turn up to him, liquid and soft, but her voice
half-attempts to make light of it, with minimal success. "Is /that/ what you
wanted to talk to me about? I oughtn't have worried." A brief silence, filled
with the barely-noticable sound of elven feet on marble, and she lifts their
joined hands. His palm she turns over, and a lingering kiss is placed within,
as her eyes squeeze shut. She brushes her cheek to his fingers.
"I could talk about that forever..." comes his soft voice. And it isn't so idle
a promise as lovers often make; for this pair, forever might come. A kiss
tickles his palm and he lifts his other hand to touch her hair, bright threads
of molten bronze in the moonlight.
Caelwen forgets to walk, her foot hovering over the next step but not taking it
for a while. She turns in toward him, eyes still shut, still rubbing her cheek
to his fingers. "I wish I knew a good way to tell you how I love you," she says
earnestly. "It is /such/ a grand thing, and even more so since you told me
mother spoke to you. I can scarcely breathe when I think about you."
"You did tell me, remember?" Sable eyes rest on her face, fingertips memorize
the feel of her cheek. "You are much better at it than I.. how could I not
know?" His voice is still quiet, hardly above the background whisper of branch
against branch, quiet rustle of woodland creatures and deeper still, the hushed
beat of the earth's heart. And carefully, unpracticed, he shows her again the
wordless feelings in his soul. Long uncounted moments later, he whispers
against her hair, "When shall we be married?"
Caelwen's lips part, tears squeeze from the corners of her eyes and her brow
rests against his collarbone as her own fea whispers secrets back to his. Her
breath stills nearly to stopping, and as she answers him, it is as if she is
trying to remember how to speak again. "When... when..." she whispers, and then
the tears slip into her voice. "You really want to marry me, Lothdaimoth?"
"Yes." Lothdaimoth manages to sound at once faintly surprised that she needs to
ask, faintly worried that she might decide no after all, and triumphant. From
her hair, his arm slips down to circle her thin shoulders. "Did you doubt it?"
Caelwen's hands slip slowly and loosly behind Lothdaimoth as she leans against
him. "No," she says unthinkingly, and then amends. "I mean, yes... a little."
Her head rocks against his shoulder, the bridge of her nose to his neck. "And
we will whenever you want to. You really want to?" A sniffle, and she really
starts to cry, the sounds of it like giddy laughter.
"Why are you crying?" He sounds a little confused.. the deep feelings of joy
emanating from her somehow seeming at odds with tears. Then a chuckle, fond and
indulgent, warms his voice. "Do you still doubt, meldanya? Without you..." he
stops, then shrugs against her head. And his voice deepens to complete
seriousness. "You know," he says slowly, "There will be times our bodies must
be apart. But my soul is yours. I .. do you? Want to marry me?"
"Yes! Yes-yes." Caelwen's head tilts back, the warm and estatic grin on her
face making a lie of the tears that still leak from her eyes. Her hands shift
from behind him to lift and frame his face. "Of /course/ yes." Through the
darkness, liquid green eyes find a sable pair, and she hunts through these in
silence. "By Elbereth!" she swears, all emotions caught in her throat and
choking her. "By Illuvatar, even! Everything I give you, the moment you even
ask for it."
"And I you," whispers the counsel huskily, bending his head through her hands
and kissing her. First tear-wet cheeks, salt catching on his mouth, and then
lips, soft and sweet. His arms tighten around her, one sliding lower to circle
her waist and he loses himself for time unnumbered. Until he lifts his head and
murmurs again. "I love you."
Tight as she can hold him, Caelwen curls one arm behind his neck and the other
over the crown of his dark head, kissing the counsel as long as long as he
kisses her, while the stars seem to spin by faster than their wont. His murmur
pulls another sob from her, and her eyes fly wide open. "When? How? Right
away?" Eagerness begins to slip into her voice.
Dark eyes open with astonishment only inches for excited green ones. And then
comprehension floods through them. "Well," he says slowly, teasingly. "It is
customary to have a time of betrothal first, you know... And mother will
probably slaughter me if I don't give her a chance to make a silver ring.
Unless, of course, you don't want one..." He grins at her.
Sable eyes open right above hers, and Caelwen forgets how to speak again,
smiling foolishly as she falls into something like a trance. Time trickles by--
maybe minutes, maybe hours-- and the night slips silently, furtively closer to
dawn. Finally she moves, lifting her face higher for her mouth to find his
again, all replies forgotten.
There is no response to his teasing question, except a pair of lips that brush
his and warm breath on his cheek. Lothdaimoth gives up on speech and lowers his
head again. One hand tightens on her waist, the other slides up her neck, under
the silky masses of hair and slowly twines itself in curls. His eyelids fall
shut again and in his turn, he forgets the passage of time (what is time
anyway, to one who will live until it ends?).
Caelwen wriggles herself a little closer to Lothdaimoth (if such a thing were
possible) and kisses him fervently for a while, breath synchronized, heart
thumping a tattoo against his chest. Finally, she pulls back, and her brows
furrow as if she is trying to recall her thoughts. "How quickly can they make
rings? Do you know?" So much for not caring how time passes. Her eyes have
opened again, and they twinkle, corners crinkled in a smile. It seems the tears
have dried from her face.
"I don't know," says Lothdaimoth. It doesn't sound as if he cares much either.
The endless silver stream pouring down from above dims and brightens as a wisp
of cloud floats across the moon and then away. "I could ask mother, I suppose."
Thought scatters while he watches her, and then he adds somewhat vaguely, "The
betrothal is a year."
"Well, I know /that/," comes Caelwen's amused reply. Her lips drift across his
chin, his cheek, and they move against his skin as she speaks. Her words jump
from her mouth as if they are given life the moment the thought strikes her
mind. "Lothdaimoth, beloved, belegil-nin, do you suppose anyone will say this
is too quick?"
"I don't know," he says again. And this time it can be certain that neither
does he care. A soft skittering touch brushes across his face, and he shivers a
little, moving his hand through her curls to trace the curve of an ear. "It is
no one's business save our own, and our parents have said yes as well." He
gives her a slightly apologetic smile. "Though I think I would not have cared
much had they said no.. only that it would have distressed you." A vagrant
breeze shuffles through black hair.
The same breeze lifts curls gone auburn in night, and tangles them with long,
dark hair. "Really?" she asks, pulling back a little to look for his face,
trembling as he touches he ear. "What would.... you mean, you would have
continued on anyway?" A fragile smile curves into her mouth.
Memories of the last time he defied his father, and the years of heartache that
followed, shadow charcoal eyes. Still, "yes," he says steadily. For he has also
known the anguish of heart denied, love repulsed and of the two, one can be
mended; the other cannot.
Caelwen's smile falters, then dies. "Aiya, Lothdaimoth," she murmurs, then
lifts to her toes to kiss his nose ere dropping down to the marble step again.
"I have a worry, melda. What if I am not enough for you? Sometimes-- well, all
of the time, now-- I do not know what to do when you are sad. The things I used
to do are not right anymore."
"What did you used to do?" Curiousity shoulders out some of the old pain. "You
are enough. Just you, that is all I need. And if you know not always what to
say," he smiles at her. "Think of all the years you have to find out in. I
don't always know what to say either. I am afraid sometimes - you are Indiri of
your house and you.. we have such different thoughts on some matters. It will
not turn you against me, will it?" A little worry appears again in his face.
"You don't?" Caelwen asks, surprised. "But you always say the right things,
beloved. Right when they need to be said." Her hand lifts, to shift and comb
through his black hair. She starts to laugh, gently, "And this I was worried
about you. That you would turn against /me/. Could you even imagine it? Caelwen
turning against Lothdaimoth. You are life to me, and..." she stumbles for
words. "When you did not want to see me in Imladris I just wanted to die. You
could invite dwarves over for supper and I'd still be devoted to you."
"Dwarves?" And Lothdaimoth's voice is loud with amazement. He looks about
rather sheepishly, but no one seems to have noticed; at the moment, there is no
one around to notice and he lowers his voice quickly, laughing a little.
"Father truly would disown me did I try any such thing." Untangling himself
from her embrace, he catches at one hand and pulls. "But I think, if I
remember, if I can still think, that we were on our way somewhere. Once upon a
time..."