A year ago, also, I would have laughed openly at the suggestion that I should wish for a wife and four children with a greater ferocity than I wished for anything else. My attitudes of that time seem to belong to another person.
Quite true Maglor, in that sense you grew very fast. I remember reading in the earlier chapters of AMC that he indeed could not imagine that. That is also why I think, with his train of thoughts (wanting to know how she looks under the sheets, how to undress her and such), he won't be afraid of bonding anymore :) I find it so hard to read that Vingarië dreads the same fate as Miriel. I feel so sorry for her.
Some parts, eugh, I had tears in my eyes:
Who says we have until the world’s ending?
I shake my head. It is as though Laurelin had dimmed for a moment, but that cannot be. I blink and smile and force myself to forget it.
or
It seems that I belong nowhere. Perhaps I should wander, as do the great bards of lore, with nothing but my harp and the clothes upon my body, singing hymns to the sea.
*snif* This suddenly feels way too cruel to me. Yet, Tolkien does this to him.
Yet again, great moment between Nelyo and Macalaurë, especially this part:
“No, it is just…you were fishing…you weren’t here,” I finish lamely, and the next thing I know, Nelyo has charged me, yelling, and knocked me onto the bed, my wind exiting my lungs in a single, painful gust, and he is sitting atop me, laughing.
LOL!
Oh an this made me laugh so hard: You are a son of Fëanaro, and I believe that Atar might be the person in Aman most dreaded to meet for counsel. I think that Eru has given Atar only sons because he feels sorry for the eventual husbands of his daughters.
So true lmao!
Yet again, I simply love Vingarië's brothers. I sincerly hope you have plans for them as well. This part should come with a beverage alert: Another afternoon I had spent in her brothers’ bedrooms, looking at their new longbows, passing on the way a closed door that made Tindanén nudge me in the ribs and say, “That is my sister’s chambers. Note its location, for the windows shall be reinforced with steel upon your leaving.”
And suddenly Maglor becomes much alike Celegorm when he blurts out: “No,” I say softly, “I did not.” I take a sip of wine for courage. “I love your daughter,” I say.
Those were not the words I meant to say. I meant to be delicate and elusive, as Nelyo would be. I meant to use gentle metaphors in place of the brutal truth of it: That I will choose to live alone if one day Vingarië will not consent to be my wife.
I would have loved to see his look on his face. In this chapter, nothing goes as it should go and this chapter also made me wonder how Lord Lantanén met his wife and obviously could not wait 'bonding' with his wife before they were married... oh! I would love to read that. This is by no means not intended to sic another plotbunny on you by the way.
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A year ago, also, I would have laughed openly at the suggestion that I should wish for a wife and four children with a greater ferocity than I wished for anything else. My attitudes of that time seem to belong to another person.
Quite true Maglor, in that sense you grew very fast. I remember reading in the earlier chapters of AMC that he indeed could not imagine that. That is also why I think, with his train of thoughts (wanting to know how she looks under the sheets, how to undress her and such), he won't be afraid of bonding anymore :) I find it so hard to read that Vingarië dreads the same fate as Miriel. I feel so sorry for her.
Some parts, eugh, I had tears in my eyes:
Who says we have until the world’s ending?
I shake my head. It is as though Laurelin had dimmed for a moment, but that cannot be. I blink and smile and force myself to forget it.
or
It seems that I belong nowhere. Perhaps I should wander, as do the great bards of lore, with nothing but my harp and the clothes upon my body, singing hymns to the sea.
*snif* This suddenly feels way too cruel to me. Yet, Tolkien does this to him.
Yet again, great moment between Nelyo and Macalaurë, especially this part:
“No, it is just…you were fishing…you weren’t here,” I finish lamely, and the next thing I know, Nelyo has charged me, yelling, and knocked me onto the bed, my wind exiting my lungs in a single, painful gust, and he is sitting atop me, laughing.
LOL!
Oh an this made me laugh so hard:
You are a son of Fëanaro, and I believe that Atar might be the person in Aman most dreaded to meet for counsel. I think that Eru has given Atar only sons because he feels sorry for the eventual husbands of his daughters.
So true lmao!
Yet again, I simply love Vingarië's brothers. I sincerly hope you have plans for them as well. This part should come with a beverage alert:
Another afternoon I had spent in her brothers’ bedrooms, looking at their new longbows, passing on the way a closed door that made Tindanén nudge me in the ribs and say, “That is my sister’s chambers. Note its location, for the windows shall be reinforced with steel upon your leaving.”
And suddenly Maglor becomes much alike Celegorm when he blurts out:
“No,” I say softly, “I did not.” I take a sip of wine for courage. “I love your daughter,” I say.
Those were not the words I meant to say. I meant to be delicate and elusive, as Nelyo would be. I meant to use gentle metaphors in place of the brutal truth of it: That I will choose to live alone if one day Vingarië will not consent to be my wife.
I would have loved to see his look on his face. In this chapter, nothing goes as it should go and this chapter also made me wonder how Lord Lantanén met his wife and obviously could not wait 'bonding' with his wife before they were married... oh! I would love to read that. This is by no means not intended to sic another plotbunny on you by the way.
A fabulous chapter Dawn!