Disclaimer, I do not own the characters or place I'm using, I'm just
borrowing from a great author, please do not sue me for any reason 'cause
I'm not making any money, just having some fun and when was that made
illegal?;) Thanx.
Realizations Part One
Gwindor swiftly made his way to the garden, walking deserted paths
"For you," Gwindor said softly, handing Finduilas the delicate pastel-pink flower. "Your father said that it is your favorite color."
"Thank you," she said, just as softly, though her eyes were on the flower, not on him.
"Do you know why I wished to talk with you?" he asked.
She looked up. "You only said that it was urgent."
Gwindor almost sighed, but caught himself. "Before I left…I told you I wished to ask your father for your hand." She nodded, already knowing where the conversation was going; Gwindor could see it in her face. "Many things have changed since I left, but I had hoped our feelings would not change."
"Eleven years is a long time Gwindor," she said gently. "And you ask me again so suddenly, though you do not say it, I know something of what you think and I must say this. We must have time to think, to consider and reconsider, allow me that."
Gwindor nodded agreement. He could wait. Finduilas studied his face and looked away, face the color of the pastel flower. "What is it?" he asked, concerned. She looked at him again, took a deep breath and began to speak. "Gwindor, I cannot marry you. Your feelings may not have changed, but mine have. I can no longer honestly say that I love you with my whole heart! We have been separated too long, and in that time many horrible things happened to you, things I cannot bear to think of, you must understand that I cannot love you, you are not fully healed, you may never be and you would not love me if you knew that I only listened to you and spoke to you out of pity!"
Each could not meet the other's gaze for a moment, one out of shock and sudden heartbreak, the other out of amazement that she had spoken so plainly. Finally, Gwindor took her hands. She flinched at his touch as if expecting him to strike her for what she had said, but he made no movement for a long time. Then he spoke just two words. "I understand." He managed to say it so calmly and gently that he surprised himself in a way. He did not know how he could be so calm, except that full realization must not have sunken in yet. He did understand in part, and the understanding seemed to tear at him. "I did not know how you felt until now and I am glad you have spoken to me and kept the truth a secret no longer. Will you forgive me?"
She looked at him, astonished and relieved at his answer. "What is there to forgive?"
"Forgive me for my misimpression."
"Only if you will forgive me for helping you form it."
"I will."
"Then I will also." Gwindor stood, raised her right hand to his lips and kissed it once. She smiled at him, relief still clearly evident in her face. With that, Gwindor left the garden.
The night was beautifully clear, the moon and stars shining brightly above in an ebony sky, but Gwindor ignored them all, too busy with his troubled thoughts.
*She was my only reason to live until I met Turin, then he became my second reason, I had to guide him. She does not love me any more. Why? She says I was away too long, but she knew I could not help it. Every time she looked at me since my return, there was pity in her eyes and I was too foolish and blindly in love to see it! That this should happen is a final gift from the Great Enemy! She loves Turin.*
He stopped walking exactly where he was.
She loves Turin?
"No!" he shouted to himself, then remembered he was in hearing range of others, notably one other, tall, dark-haired and loved by Finduilas though he knew it not. He sat down on a nearby ledge of a wall and covered his face with his hands. He heard footsteps drawing closer. "Gwindor? Are you to rights?" a voice asked. Abruptly, Gwindor took his hands away from his face and composed himself. Turin stood next to him, looking concerned. Gwindor looked around. No one else was in sight. "I am fine Turin," he said quickly, and perhaps over-harshly. Turin did not look convinced. "Do you need a healer?"
Gwindor smiled bitterly. A healer. They all thought he was weak in the mind, they being everyone, his father, Turin and Finduilas included. "There is no cure, friend, save perhaps time, and that may be no cure," he said, not harshly at all this time, just sad. Sad for Turin that he did not know that he was the luckiest man in all Arda, sad for Finduilas because Turin would be her doom, he knew it somehow, and sad for all the elves of Nargothrond, Turin would bring about their dooms as well.
"Shall I see you home?" Turin asked, breaking his train of thought.
"No," Gwindor said, managing a small smile as he stood. "I'm not a child. If I do not know my way home, then I am a poor guide!"
Turin smiled and started off again.
"Where do you go?" Gwindor asked, out of idle curiosity.
"To see Finduilas , she asked me to meet her in the garden," Turin called back and continued on his way. Had he looked back, he would have seen Gwindor sit back down on the ledge and weep softly, inaudibly. At that hour though, the stars of the Valar were the only witnesses, and they would never tell.
Realizations Part One
Gwindor swiftly made his way to the garden, walking deserted paths
"For you," Gwindor said softly, handing Finduilas the delicate pastel-pink flower. "Your father said that it is your favorite color."
"Thank you," she said, just as softly, though her eyes were on the flower, not on him.
"Do you know why I wished to talk with you?" he asked.
She looked up. "You only said that it was urgent."
Gwindor almost sighed, but caught himself. "Before I left…I told you I wished to ask your father for your hand." She nodded, already knowing where the conversation was going; Gwindor could see it in her face. "Many things have changed since I left, but I had hoped our feelings would not change."
"Eleven years is a long time Gwindor," she said gently. "And you ask me again so suddenly, though you do not say it, I know something of what you think and I must say this. We must have time to think, to consider and reconsider, allow me that."
Gwindor nodded agreement. He could wait. Finduilas studied his face and looked away, face the color of the pastel flower. "What is it?" he asked, concerned. She looked at him again, took a deep breath and began to speak. "Gwindor, I cannot marry you. Your feelings may not have changed, but mine have. I can no longer honestly say that I love you with my whole heart! We have been separated too long, and in that time many horrible things happened to you, things I cannot bear to think of, you must understand that I cannot love you, you are not fully healed, you may never be and you would not love me if you knew that I only listened to you and spoke to you out of pity!"
Each could not meet the other's gaze for a moment, one out of shock and sudden heartbreak, the other out of amazement that she had spoken so plainly. Finally, Gwindor took her hands. She flinched at his touch as if expecting him to strike her for what she had said, but he made no movement for a long time. Then he spoke just two words. "I understand." He managed to say it so calmly and gently that he surprised himself in a way. He did not know how he could be so calm, except that full realization must not have sunken in yet. He did understand in part, and the understanding seemed to tear at him. "I did not know how you felt until now and I am glad you have spoken to me and kept the truth a secret no longer. Will you forgive me?"
She looked at him, astonished and relieved at his answer. "What is there to forgive?"
"Forgive me for my misimpression."
"Only if you will forgive me for helping you form it."
"I will."
"Then I will also." Gwindor stood, raised her right hand to his lips and kissed it once. She smiled at him, relief still clearly evident in her face. With that, Gwindor left the garden.
The night was beautifully clear, the moon and stars shining brightly above in an ebony sky, but Gwindor ignored them all, too busy with his troubled thoughts.
*She was my only reason to live until I met Turin, then he became my second reason, I had to guide him. She does not love me any more. Why? She says I was away too long, but she knew I could not help it. Every time she looked at me since my return, there was pity in her eyes and I was too foolish and blindly in love to see it! That this should happen is a final gift from the Great Enemy! She loves Turin.*
He stopped walking exactly where he was.
She loves Turin?
"No!" he shouted to himself, then remembered he was in hearing range of others, notably one other, tall, dark-haired and loved by Finduilas though he knew it not. He sat down on a nearby ledge of a wall and covered his face with his hands. He heard footsteps drawing closer. "Gwindor? Are you to rights?" a voice asked. Abruptly, Gwindor took his hands away from his face and composed himself. Turin stood next to him, looking concerned. Gwindor looked around. No one else was in sight. "I am fine Turin," he said quickly, and perhaps over-harshly. Turin did not look convinced. "Do you need a healer?"
Gwindor smiled bitterly. A healer. They all thought he was weak in the mind, they being everyone, his father, Turin and Finduilas included. "There is no cure, friend, save perhaps time, and that may be no cure," he said, not harshly at all this time, just sad. Sad for Turin that he did not know that he was the luckiest man in all Arda, sad for Finduilas because Turin would be her doom, he knew it somehow, and sad for all the elves of Nargothrond, Turin would bring about their dooms as well.
"Shall I see you home?" Turin asked, breaking his train of thought.
"No," Gwindor said, managing a small smile as he stood. "I'm not a child. If I do not know my way home, then I am a poor guide!"
Turin smiled and started off again.
"Where do you go?" Gwindor asked, out of idle curiosity.
"To see Finduilas , she asked me to meet her in the garden," Turin called back and continued on his way. Had he looked back, he would have seen Gwindor sit back down on the ledge and weep softly, inaudibly. At that hour though, the stars of the Valar were the only witnesses, and they would never tell.