| Forum Index
| Forum FAQ
| Log in
Floating as she was, in the lee of her island, bathed in the crystal cool waters of her lake, Joylah enjoyed the sensation of time slipping by without care. The stronger currents of the lake broken by her island, she enjoyed the tactile sensation of her silken hair rippling about her, the lover's caress of the water washing over her tired body. Above, soft clouds rode the gentle breeze, carefree and wispy as they scattered across the bright blue expanse of sky. It wasn't often in the past weeks, that she felt this carefree and unfettered and she luxuriated in the suspension of worry that had been dogging her footsteps. And this time of healing let her, for a moment, forget her troubles and rest in safe oblivion.
Now was a time to forget....
She was glad to have Galen home, again. Though she had hoped Ithilwen could help him with more then his ills, she was doubting how successful the Healer would be. She knew better then anyone how obstinate her Galen could be when he set his mind. It wasn't that he couldn't learn, more that he was inclined to ignore a lesson that upset his particular comforts and his conscious decisions about himself and his place in the grander view of life. Change was difficult for elves, and that was one particular elven trait that Galen had down pat.
Their conversation about his nature and the elven blood he bore had been frustrating for the slight tailor on more then a few levels. But she was slowly accepting that his mind was set, and no amount of valid argument was going to sway him from the choice he'd made for himself. He would continue to view the world from a shortsighted and very human position, thus sealing his fate. And she would begin to prepare herself for the eventuality that choice would one day lay on her doorstep. The very concept of losing him brought tears to her eyes and made her heart ache. A certainty that would not change given his decision to ignore a portion of his elven nature, instead clinging to the harsher reality of a mortal's existence.
But while her worry for Galen and his choices was a large portion of what currently bothered her, it wasn't the entirety of the weight she shouldered.
The night past, she'd spent enjoying the earth's embrace, wallowing in the warm dirt and letting the power of nature rejuvenate her spirit and assuage her tired mind. The time she spent with Deleaduindill was difficult for her. Taxing both her patience and her stamina. She tired more easily, these days, and warring with him over the simplest of things sapped what energy she could store between their conversations. She had long ago put aside the concept of helping him recover from his past, realizing that Deleaduindill (much like Galen) had made a conscious choice to refuse change. His logical nature and analytical way of reasoning had long since made any true and lasting change a near impossibility for him.
She thought perhaps she viewed such things in too concrete a way. Seeing black and white and only the vaguest of gray shades. But it was so frustrating to feel her friend open up to the possibilities, only to slam the door shut on them the next time they talked. The seesaw of emotions and the magick she wove in helping him was beginning to tell on her. She was making strides, his coldness melted more quickly then in times past, but beating her head against the same wall each meeting, simply wasting time to return to the point they'd left so they could continue to move forward was beyond vexing.
The one avenue she thought would help the ancient elf the most was closed to her. Her promise of physical fidelity to Galen she would not break. She didn't regret her promise, she understood the price it carried when she made it, and she thought she understood Galen's need for the reassurance. But it bit harshly against the grain and she chafed under the restriction when it made her Path in life more difficult. She would adapt, it's what she did and it's how she managed to accept and flourish from all the choices, right or wrong, she'd made for herself.
But in her attempts to help Del, she often pushed herself too far, too fast, and without consideration for the costs. The loss of her voice had her worried. Not so much that she feared it was lost to her forever, but that it was lost at all. Unlike most of her magick, her ability to manipulate the Weave with her voice was a gift she rarely shared. The essence of her singing could conjure illusions, thread thoughts unspoken into other's minds, or change reality. The powerful nature of this ability made her hesitant to use it under normal circumstances, preferring instead to rely on her musical instruments and her dexterity as a musician. But helping a friend was never a normal circumstance for Joylah, and she was willing to try nearly anything for someone she held dear. The Healer, Ithilwen, had assured her that it was only temporary, and had mixed up a noxious brew for the abused vocal cords. Time and care would restore her voice, undoubtedly.
But now was a time to remember...
Time for Joy to reshoulder these thoughts, letting the worries they inevitably brought wash back over her as she rose from the calming embrace of her lake. As the water sheeted off her body, she felt stronger, more alive and able to deal with the concerns she'd laid aside while she renewed herself. She was cleansed, purified and a glance at the slowly darkening sky told her that soon the time would be perfect to begin sewing.
You cannot post new topics in this forum
You cannot reply to topics in this forum
You cannot edit your posts in this forum
You cannot delete your posts in this forum
You cannot vote in polls in this forum
Copyright © 2000-2006, The Grey Company. All Rights Reserved.
Send comments and questions to the
Powered by php B. B. © 2001, 2005 php B B Group
Enhanced w/ Moby_Threads