Part 136 of the Elfwine Chronicles. The Elfwine Chronicles are a series of one-shots built around the family group of Eomer, Lothiriel and Elfwine. The total number will depend on how many ideas I get for new vignettes.
A/N: Another one "out of the blue".
Hands
(June, 44 IV)
Hands are fascinating things. Though they are ever present in our lives, rarely do we pay them much mind, unless like Elfwine we should lose one. Only then, do we realize how vital they are to everything we do each day.
My son, Eledher, has the small hands of a child. As yet, they have little skill, but each day he learns new things and develops new abilities. His father has taught him to work with wood and his Uncle Theodred has shown him how to manipulate marionettes. Like me, his fingers are long and slender, and some say that indicates he will be an artist of sorts. We shall see if that is the direction he chooses for himself.
My mother, however, has well-worn hands. She has worked hard all her life, and her hands reflect usefulness, yet they are also a mother's hand. Her touch on a fevered brow soothed, and as a child I always felt comfort in her touch. I would hope that the same is true for my children when I touch them.
My own hands are rather small, though they suit me well. Just as Eledher, I have long tapering fingers, though mine are skilled at forming jewels, but more importantly, they seem to fit perfectly into Theomund's hands.
My beloved husband is a study in contrasts. To look at him, he is mild-mannered and gentle, but when his temper is aroused, he can be dangerous. Long hours working in metal and wood have given him not-so-obvious strength in his hands and arms, and only a fool would challenge him lightly. But he is an artisan also, and I have seen the beautiful things that he crafts, or draws upon paper. His hands provide a window to the beauty that lies within him.
When the arms that guide those hands enfold me, I feel protected and safe; yet, the merest brush of his fingertips against my cheek or shoulder, rife with tenderness, can set me trembling with passion.
Earlier in my life, I had learned to fear hands, particularly those of an angry man. That time has passed, and now I am persuaded that I will find only security at the hands of my husband. The hands that caress me in passion have also held our infant child with excruciating gentleness. Yes, hands are wondrous, versatile things. Fear has long kept me from communicating freely with my hands, but now I hope my family knows of my devotion to them with my every touch. I am not good with words, so I hope my hands speak more clearly than my voice ever could what I am feeling in my heart. I hope they speak of love.
THE END
3/9/07
End note: It is best that you read the Elfwine Chronicles in the order they were written. The more of them that I wrote, the more likely I was to make reference to one of the previous ones and something that happened there. If you want to read them in order, go to the top of this page and click on my name (Deandra). That will take you to my profile page. Scroll down and you will find all the stories I have written. The Elfwine Chronicles are in order from bottom to top since ffn shows them in the order they were posted. A few were posted out of number order, but you can read them in posting order or number order since those few won't be affected in the story content.