Contronyms Challenge; Bound, Cleave, Fast. And Sew it Continues.
Three drabbles, continuing from 'And Sew it Begins'.
Author; curiouswombat
rating; G
Characters Arwen, Aragorn
Source; Lord of the Rings, Appendices.
Arwen had learnt to embroider from her Grandmother.
Sometimes it was simply a case of choosing the right colours and stitches to decorate something to make it more beautiful. But much more often the colours and stitches had meaning; this pattern was for wisdom, worked into a sash for Adar to wear when the White Council met, that one to be used on a bedroom wall hanging to bring healing to someone recovering from injury.
Into each you bound your thoughts; a little of your fëa in every stitch.
All her thoughts as she sewed, now, were of hope… Estel.
.....................
‘Males!’ she thought, like so many other females over time.
Both Adar and Aragorn had said she “must sail” if their cause was lost. Why could neither understand that she had, truly, chosen to cleave to Aragorn when they plighted their troth on Cerin Amroth?
In doing so she had chosen to forever sunder her mortal soul and her immortal fëa, and cast away the fëa to thus become as mortal as her love. It was not a whim, to be reversed, as if she had tucked immortality in her jewel box and could take it out to wear again.
...................
And now the time was fast approaching when she must put in the final stitches. Here pure white silk there, not silver thread, but mithril. She paused only to eat and drink and, occasionally, sleep.
With every stitch she asked the Valar, in her thoughts, to let each one contain a little of her mortal soul as it would have done her fëa. Or to have let a little of her fëa, although cast aside, still give strength and hope to anyone who saw this banner when unfurled, so that, in casting it aside, it had not been truly wasted.
Author; curiouswombat
rating; G
Characters Arwen, Aragorn
Source; Lord of the Rings, Appendices.
Arwen had learnt to embroider from her Grandmother.
Sometimes it was simply a case of choosing the right colours and stitches to decorate something to make it more beautiful. But much more often the colours and stitches had meaning; this pattern was for wisdom, worked into a sash for Adar to wear when the White Council met, that one to be used on a bedroom wall hanging to bring healing to someone recovering from injury.
Into each you bound your thoughts; a little of your fëa in every stitch.
All her thoughts as she sewed, now, were of hope… Estel.
.....................
‘Males!’ she thought, like so many other females over time.
Both Adar and Aragorn had said she “must sail” if their cause was lost. Why could neither understand that she had, truly, chosen to cleave to Aragorn when they plighted their troth on Cerin Amroth?
In doing so she had chosen to forever sunder her mortal soul and her immortal fëa, and cast away the fëa to thus become as mortal as her love. It was not a whim, to be reversed, as if she had tucked immortality in her jewel box and could take it out to wear again.
...................
And now the time was fast approaching when she must put in the final stitches. Here pure white silk there, not silver thread, but mithril. She paused only to eat and drink and, occasionally, sleep.
With every stitch she asked the Valar, in her thoughts, to let each one contain a little of her mortal soul as it would have done her fëa. Or to have let a little of her fëa, although cast aside, still give strength and hope to anyone who saw this banner when unfurled, so that, in casting it aside, it had not been truly wasted.