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[personal profile] narva
Title: Under a tree
Rating: G
Notes: Can be read as both friendshippy and romanticshippy.

"Russandol, I know that you are there." He puts the book down in his lap and crosses his arms, leaning forward so that he can look around the tree a bit. "You may think that you are being subtle, but if you intend to not let the prey which you stalk know of your presence, you might wish to ask Tyelko for a few lessons."

There is no answer, and he leans back against the tree, looking up towards its leaves high above - it is a beautiful tree, older than himself perhaps, with a wide trunk and still vibrantly healthy. He comes here often when he needs to think or simply desires to be alone (or be alone with someone whom he wishes to be alone with). "I was wondering when you would come."

"I have come before." The disembodied voice that floats around the tree is amused and a bit impatient, but more than anything hesitant, and Findekáno curses yet again their circumstances which have brought on all of this in the first place. "Is simply did not choose to show myself."

"I know." It has gotten more frequent, lately, that the fights of their fathers would extend to the sons, and the words that such confrontations bring have grown harsher and harsher over time... "You are not showing yourself even now."

"I replied to your words."

"..." And then he abruptly jumps to his feet, book falling by the wayside as he scrambles to make his way around the trunk of the tree, and perhaps it is not so much the sudden nature of his ambush as that Maitimo wishes to be overcome, but he succeeds in tackling his friend to the ground.

And then just crouches on top of him for a long moment, hands holding the taller elf's arms down and legs pinning his thighs to the ground. And then leans forward to touch their foreheads together. "You are a fool, Russandol."

"As are you."

"Of course I am." And there is sadness in his smile. "I do not wish to be separated from you, and yet I made you come for me. I am sorry."

"Well," the knock of Maitimo's forehead against his own is minimal, more a shove, because there is not much ability to move around left to the taller of the two, "then you will have to come for me next time."

"I will." It is a solemn answer, but then Findekáno laughs and moves to climb off the other, which is promptly rewarded with Maitimo reversing their positions, grinning down at him.

"Is that a promise?"

"You bet it is. Don't even try to run from me."

(But then his father explicitly forbids him from it, because Maitimo has gone far away, to the border of where the light of the trees reaches; and after that, when Maitimo is gone again, Findekáno hears his brother's curses and his people's lament, and he closes his eyes and thinks of a tree, back in a place that seems so far away and long ago, and a promise made under it.

And he shakes his head. This is not what he had in mind, and he will not remember it now.

He remembers it years later, and takes up his bow and harp to leave behind his brother's curses and people's ire.

Because there was a promise which he made to a friend, and he is not a man to break such a promise, even when the situation has changed like this.)
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narva: (Default)
Narva // Kira // Su-chan


Kira, also known as Narva. Can be contacted at plurk:narwa and aim:janteslaw. 24, European, student of theology, Lutheran. Likes Hetalia, Dark is Rising, various others. RPer. Currently single.

When the Dark comes rising, six shall turn it back;
Three from the circle, three from the track;
Wood, bronze, iron; water, fire, stone;
Five will return, and one go alone.

Iron for the birthday, bronze carried long;
Wood from the burning, stone out of song;
Fire in the candle-ring, water from the thaw;
Six Signs the circle, and the grail gone before.

Fire on the mountain shall find the harp of gold
Played to wake the Sleepers, oldest of the old;
Power from the greenwitch, lost beneath the sea;
All shall find the light at last, silver on the tree.

On the day of the dead, when the year too dies,
Must the youngest open the oldest hills
Through the door of the birds, where the breeze breaks.
There fire shall fly from the raven boy,
And the silver eyes that see the wind,
And the light shall have the harp of gold.

By the pleasant lake the Sleepers lie,
On Cadfan’s Way where the kestrels call;
Though grim from the Grey King shadows fall,
Yet singing the golden harp shall guide
To break their sleep and bid them ride.

When light from the lost land shall return,
Six Sleepers shall ride, six Signs shall burn,
And where the midsummer tree grows tall
By Pendragon’s sword the Dark shall fall.

Y maent yr mynyddoedd yn canu,
ac y mae’r arglwyddes yn dod.

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