Post by Admin on Feb 1, 2021 1:38:37 GMT
Author: Adonnen Estenniel
Ranking: 1st place
Summary: Motherhood has its ups and downs and is never dull. With so many little ones demanding her attention, Arwen's nerves are often frazzled. Sometimes the only thing she can do is reteach the lessons that she learned as a child.
Arwen stepped lightly across the courtyard, chuckling to herself. The image of her two eldest children covered head to toe in flour still lingered in her mind. She shook her head wisely.
Cílwen had always been outspoken, even as an infant, and Eldarion allowed his younger sister to lead him by the nose most of the time. When their daughter’s unconventional character had originally come to the surface, Aragorn and Arwen had worried that their gentle, sweet-tempered son would be eclipsed by Cílwen’s vivacity. But instead the unlikely pair had formed a bond that went beyond their parents’ comprehension, and were now inseparable. The Imperishable Flame The Queen shielded her eyes from the harsh light of the sun. Her sharp eyes roved over the pleasant, tranquil scene before her, and for the first time in weeks, she felt like singing.
Her heart was bright, and a song of renewal filled her tired soul. The joys of parenting were not without their compensations, and she often was too exhausted to do more than pay minimal attention to her family, especially with her latest pregnancy sapping her strength. But today was a day unlike any other, and her spirit found respite in it. Her footsteps echoed on the paved walkway, but the sound was quickly muffled as she stepped through the gate of the King’s Garden. Beneath her shoes, the springy turf was emerald green, for the summer had been a damp one, providing more than enough rain to nourish the flowers and plants that Arwen loved so dearly. From a nearby tree came the trilling melody of birdsong, and she laughed, whistling an imitation of the bird’s voice. But hers was a poor attempt, and creature quieted in response.
The sound of girlish laughter replaced the song of the bird, and Arwen approached it with a smile. Rounding a bend in the pathway, she came upon her youngest daughter, Ceveneth, with one of her many playmates. The little girls were sitting in the cool shade of an arbor and talked lowly between themselves. When they heard the sound of Arwen’s approach, they looked up expectantly.
Ceveneth sprang to her feet and ran to Arwen’s side. Her tiny fists latched onto the silky fabric of her mother’s dress and tugged insistently. Her huge eyes, wide as saucers, peered up, and there was a note of worry and distress in them that Arwen had not seen before.
“What is it, Ceveneth?” she asked gently. She took her daughter’s tiny fist in her own.
The little girl frowned, a foreign expression on a face that was given more to smiling.
“Neliel is sad, Mother,” she said. “Come help me make her feel better.”
As Ceveneth led her toward the other child, Arwen glanced at Neliel with interest. Like most children her age, she had not yet lost her baby-roundness and she still wore her frizzed hair in the short-cropped style that Gondorians favored for young children. Above a stubby, rather squished nose, Neliel’s blue eyes were filled with unshed tears, and her dirty hands scrubbed at them fruitlessly.
In on fluid motion, Arwen knelt before Neliel and pulled her close. “What is the matter, small one?” she murmured into spring-scented hair.
“My sisters all went to the market with Papa,” she sniffled, “but I have to stay.”
"And why didn’t you go?” Arwen asked, though knowing children as she did, she could easily guess the answer. “Were you naughty, perhaps?”
The child shook her head. “No. My mama wanted one of us to stay and help her wash clothes, and I wanted. It’s fun, because Mama always lets me play with the bubbles. But I don’t want to anymore. I want to go to the market and see the flowers and pretty fabrics and jewelry!”
Arwen fought back a smile. After all her experiences with her own daughters, she knew that to show any amusement during so “serious” a problem would do nothing but hurt the little one’s feelings.
“Maybe you do, but your mother needs you here with her,” she said. “Think how grateful she is that you were unselfish enough to put aside your own wishes to make her happy.”
Neliel looked at her blankly, and Arwen sighed. “Why don’t I tell you a story I heard when I was a little girl?” Ceveneth and Neliel nodded eagerly, their curious eyes following every move Arwen made. With a smile, she settled onto the cool grass beside them. Placing one girl on either side, she leaned against a tree trunk.
“Once upon a time, a long, long while ago, the Sun, the Wind, and the Moon were three sisters, and their mother was a pale, lovely Star that shone, far away, in the dark evening sky.
“One day their uncle and aunt, who were no more or less than the Thunder and Lightning, asked the three sisters to have supper with them, and their mother said that they might go. She would wait for them, she said, and would not set until all three returned and told her about their pleasant visit. “So the Sun in her dress of gold, the Wind in a trailing dress that rustled as she passed, and the Moon in a wonderful gown of silver started out for the party with the Thunder and Lightning. Oh, it was a supper to remember! The table was spread with a cloth of rainbow. There were ices like the snow on the mountain tops, and cakes as soft and white as clouds, and fruits from every quarter of the earth. The three sisters ate their fill, especially the Sun and the Wind, who were very greedy, and left not so much as a crumb on their plates. But the Moon was kind and remembered her mother. She hid a part of her supper in her long, white fingers to take home and share with her mother, the Star.
“Then the three sisters said good-bye to the Thunder and Lightning and went home. When they reached there, they found their mother, the Star, waiting and shining for them as she had said she would.“
’What did you bring me from the supper?’ she asked.
“The Sun tossed her head with all its yellow hair in disdain as she answered her mother.
"’Why should I bring you anything?’ she asked. ‘I went out for my own pleasure and not to think of you.’
"It was the same with the Wind. She wrapped her flowing robes about her and turned away from her mother. “’I, too, went out for my own entertainment,’ she said, ‘and why should I think of you, mother, when you were not with me?’
“But it was very different with the Moon who was not greedy and selfish as her two sisters, the Sun and the Wind, were. She turned her pale sweet face toward her mother, the Star, and held out her slender hands.
“’See, mother,’ cried the Moon, ‘I have brought you part of everything that was on my plate. I ate only half of the feast for I wanted to share it with you.’
“So the mother brought a gold plate and the food that her unselfish daughter, the Moon, had brought her heaped the plate high. She ate it, and then she turned to her three children, for she had something important to say to them. She spoke first to the Sun.
“You were thoughtless and selfish, my daughter,’ she said. ‘You went out and enjoyed yourself with no thought of one who was left alone at home. Hereafter you shall be no longer beloved among men. Your rays shall be so hot and burning that they shall scorch everything they touch. Men shall cover their heads when you appear, and they shall run away from you.’
“And that is why, to this day, the Sun is hot and blazing.
“Next the mother spoke to the Wind. “’You, too, my daughter, have been unkind and greedy,’ she said. ‘You, also, enjoyed yourself with no thought of anyone else. You shall blow in the parching heat of our sister, the Sun, and wither and blast all that you touch. No one shall love you any longer, but all men will dislike and avoid you.’
“And that is why, to this day, the Wind, blowing in hot weather, is so unpleasant.
“But, last, the mother spoke to her kind daughter, the Moon.
“’You remembered your mother, and were unselfish,’ she said. ‘To those who are thoughtful of their mother, great blessings come. For all time your light shall be cool, and calm, and beautiful. You shall wane, but you shall wax again. You shall make the dark night bright, and all men shall call you blessed.’
“And that is why, to this day, the Moon is so cool, and bright, and beautiful.” Arwen finished her tale and trailed off into silence. Glancing down at Neliel and Ceveneth, she saw that the two girls watched her with rapt attention. Neliel was bouncing eagerly where she sat. “Does…does that mean I’m the moon?” she demanded happily.
“And are my sisters the sun and the wind?” Arwen opened her mouth to speak and explain the moral of the story, but the little girl had already leapt to her feet, dragging Ceveneth with her. “Come on, Ceveneth! Let’s go see if they’re back from the market yet. I can’t wait to tell them that story!”
Without even a backward glance, the two girls ran out of the garden, leaving Arwen alone. She smiled faintly and wondered if either of them had actually understood the point of the narrative, or if they had merely seen it as a way to tease Neliel’s sisters. What sort of impact would the story have on Neliel’s parents, she wondered? The Queen shrugged. She would let her mother deal with it; she was done with the issue for today.
Despite her slightly distended abdomen, Arwen rose gracefully and exited the garden. She made her way towards the King’s House, knowing Aragorn would be there in his study. With a wry grin, she imagined his response to her latest escapade into the joy of motherhood. He always did enjoy teasing her, and this was an prime opportunity of it.
I don’t think I will ever learn everything there is to know about being a parent, she thought.
Ranking: 1st place
Summary: Motherhood has its ups and downs and is never dull. With so many little ones demanding her attention, Arwen's nerves are often frazzled. Sometimes the only thing she can do is reteach the lessons that she learned as a child.
Arwen stepped lightly across the courtyard, chuckling to herself. The image of her two eldest children covered head to toe in flour still lingered in her mind. She shook her head wisely.
Cílwen had always been outspoken, even as an infant, and Eldarion allowed his younger sister to lead him by the nose most of the time. When their daughter’s unconventional character had originally come to the surface, Aragorn and Arwen had worried that their gentle, sweet-tempered son would be eclipsed by Cílwen’s vivacity. But instead the unlikely pair had formed a bond that went beyond their parents’ comprehension, and were now inseparable. The Imperishable Flame The Queen shielded her eyes from the harsh light of the sun. Her sharp eyes roved over the pleasant, tranquil scene before her, and for the first time in weeks, she felt like singing.
Her heart was bright, and a song of renewal filled her tired soul. The joys of parenting were not without their compensations, and she often was too exhausted to do more than pay minimal attention to her family, especially with her latest pregnancy sapping her strength. But today was a day unlike any other, and her spirit found respite in it. Her footsteps echoed on the paved walkway, but the sound was quickly muffled as she stepped through the gate of the King’s Garden. Beneath her shoes, the springy turf was emerald green, for the summer had been a damp one, providing more than enough rain to nourish the flowers and plants that Arwen loved so dearly. From a nearby tree came the trilling melody of birdsong, and she laughed, whistling an imitation of the bird’s voice. But hers was a poor attempt, and creature quieted in response.
The sound of girlish laughter replaced the song of the bird, and Arwen approached it with a smile. Rounding a bend in the pathway, she came upon her youngest daughter, Ceveneth, with one of her many playmates. The little girls were sitting in the cool shade of an arbor and talked lowly between themselves. When they heard the sound of Arwen’s approach, they looked up expectantly.
Ceveneth sprang to her feet and ran to Arwen’s side. Her tiny fists latched onto the silky fabric of her mother’s dress and tugged insistently. Her huge eyes, wide as saucers, peered up, and there was a note of worry and distress in them that Arwen had not seen before.
“What is it, Ceveneth?” she asked gently. She took her daughter’s tiny fist in her own.
The little girl frowned, a foreign expression on a face that was given more to smiling.
“Neliel is sad, Mother,” she said. “Come help me make her feel better.”
As Ceveneth led her toward the other child, Arwen glanced at Neliel with interest. Like most children her age, she had not yet lost her baby-roundness and she still wore her frizzed hair in the short-cropped style that Gondorians favored for young children. Above a stubby, rather squished nose, Neliel’s blue eyes were filled with unshed tears, and her dirty hands scrubbed at them fruitlessly.
In on fluid motion, Arwen knelt before Neliel and pulled her close. “What is the matter, small one?” she murmured into spring-scented hair.
“My sisters all went to the market with Papa,” she sniffled, “but I have to stay.”
"And why didn’t you go?” Arwen asked, though knowing children as she did, she could easily guess the answer. “Were you naughty, perhaps?”
The child shook her head. “No. My mama wanted one of us to stay and help her wash clothes, and I wanted. It’s fun, because Mama always lets me play with the bubbles. But I don’t want to anymore. I want to go to the market and see the flowers and pretty fabrics and jewelry!”
Arwen fought back a smile. After all her experiences with her own daughters, she knew that to show any amusement during so “serious” a problem would do nothing but hurt the little one’s feelings.
“Maybe you do, but your mother needs you here with her,” she said. “Think how grateful she is that you were unselfish enough to put aside your own wishes to make her happy.”
Neliel looked at her blankly, and Arwen sighed. “Why don’t I tell you a story I heard when I was a little girl?” Ceveneth and Neliel nodded eagerly, their curious eyes following every move Arwen made. With a smile, she settled onto the cool grass beside them. Placing one girl on either side, she leaned against a tree trunk.
“Once upon a time, a long, long while ago, the Sun, the Wind, and the Moon were three sisters, and their mother was a pale, lovely Star that shone, far away, in the dark evening sky.
“One day their uncle and aunt, who were no more or less than the Thunder and Lightning, asked the three sisters to have supper with them, and their mother said that they might go. She would wait for them, she said, and would not set until all three returned and told her about their pleasant visit. “So the Sun in her dress of gold, the Wind in a trailing dress that rustled as she passed, and the Moon in a wonderful gown of silver started out for the party with the Thunder and Lightning. Oh, it was a supper to remember! The table was spread with a cloth of rainbow. There were ices like the snow on the mountain tops, and cakes as soft and white as clouds, and fruits from every quarter of the earth. The three sisters ate their fill, especially the Sun and the Wind, who were very greedy, and left not so much as a crumb on their plates. But the Moon was kind and remembered her mother. She hid a part of her supper in her long, white fingers to take home and share with her mother, the Star.
“Then the three sisters said good-bye to the Thunder and Lightning and went home. When they reached there, they found their mother, the Star, waiting and shining for them as she had said she would.“
’What did you bring me from the supper?’ she asked.
“The Sun tossed her head with all its yellow hair in disdain as she answered her mother.
"’Why should I bring you anything?’ she asked. ‘I went out for my own pleasure and not to think of you.’
"It was the same with the Wind. She wrapped her flowing robes about her and turned away from her mother. “’I, too, went out for my own entertainment,’ she said, ‘and why should I think of you, mother, when you were not with me?’
“But it was very different with the Moon who was not greedy and selfish as her two sisters, the Sun and the Wind, were. She turned her pale sweet face toward her mother, the Star, and held out her slender hands.
“’See, mother,’ cried the Moon, ‘I have brought you part of everything that was on my plate. I ate only half of the feast for I wanted to share it with you.’
“So the mother brought a gold plate and the food that her unselfish daughter, the Moon, had brought her heaped the plate high. She ate it, and then she turned to her three children, for she had something important to say to them. She spoke first to the Sun.
“You were thoughtless and selfish, my daughter,’ she said. ‘You went out and enjoyed yourself with no thought of one who was left alone at home. Hereafter you shall be no longer beloved among men. Your rays shall be so hot and burning that they shall scorch everything they touch. Men shall cover their heads when you appear, and they shall run away from you.’
“And that is why, to this day, the Sun is hot and blazing.
“Next the mother spoke to the Wind. “’You, too, my daughter, have been unkind and greedy,’ she said. ‘You, also, enjoyed yourself with no thought of anyone else. You shall blow in the parching heat of our sister, the Sun, and wither and blast all that you touch. No one shall love you any longer, but all men will dislike and avoid you.’
“And that is why, to this day, the Wind, blowing in hot weather, is so unpleasant.
“But, last, the mother spoke to her kind daughter, the Moon.
“’You remembered your mother, and were unselfish,’ she said. ‘To those who are thoughtful of their mother, great blessings come. For all time your light shall be cool, and calm, and beautiful. You shall wane, but you shall wax again. You shall make the dark night bright, and all men shall call you blessed.’
“And that is why, to this day, the Moon is so cool, and bright, and beautiful.” Arwen finished her tale and trailed off into silence. Glancing down at Neliel and Ceveneth, she saw that the two girls watched her with rapt attention. Neliel was bouncing eagerly where she sat. “Does…does that mean I’m the moon?” she demanded happily.
“And are my sisters the sun and the wind?” Arwen opened her mouth to speak and explain the moral of the story, but the little girl had already leapt to her feet, dragging Ceveneth with her. “Come on, Ceveneth! Let’s go see if they’re back from the market yet. I can’t wait to tell them that story!”
Without even a backward glance, the two girls ran out of the garden, leaving Arwen alone. She smiled faintly and wondered if either of them had actually understood the point of the narrative, or if they had merely seen it as a way to tease Neliel’s sisters. What sort of impact would the story have on Neliel’s parents, she wondered? The Queen shrugged. She would let her mother deal with it; she was done with the issue for today.
Despite her slightly distended abdomen, Arwen rose gracefully and exited the garden. She made her way towards the King’s House, knowing Aragorn would be there in his study. With a wry grin, she imagined his response to her latest escapade into the joy of motherhood. He always did enjoy teasing her, and this was an prime opportunity of it.
I don’t think I will ever learn everything there is to know about being a parent, she thought.