Another bit of Sildil Whimsy
Jun. 25th, 2004 11:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sildilThis evening, middle son, who sings bass in the madrigal group at school, took part with the choir in a concert at a local and very pretty church. They performed Faure's Requiem which is one of my favourite pieces of choral music, and as I sat there I mused on Sildil's current plight at EOAS and came up with this.....
Sildil sat listening to the music. A group of elves, enjoying the fine midsummer evening had gathered together to sing the praises of Iluvatar, their voices blending with the sounds of the evening. Other passers-by had paused as well, quietly smiling where they stood. Occasionally one would step forward and join in with the music, while now and then one of the singers would fall silent and leave the choir.
Sil had not intended to stop. He had been running around in barely suppressed panic. One minute he was practising his archery with Taelin and the next he had a sword in his hand and was sparring with first Mirien and then Celebrimbor. And there was the ‘promise’ that Lord Maedhros himself was intending to give him some sword-fighting practice. Sildil did not know whether to be glad or sorry.
Just underneath the surface bubbled a genuine feeling of terror. How did he get into these messes? Why in Arda did he challenge that elf to a fighting contest? He was going to get thrashed, he knew it. But the trouble was, he believed the wretched elf when he said that Sildil was not worthy of his lover Taurnil’s affections.
It seemed that every male elf in Imladris, and some of the female ones, could wield a sword and shoot with a bow, and Sildil had felt rather ashamed of his lack in fighting skills. He used to be quite good when Tuor had sparred with him and taught him moves. But Helm’s Deep and the loss of his first love had taken away any desire he once had for combat. But now he faced this contest. Next week. Actually, less than that, in barely a few days.
He had risen to the challenge before he knew what he was doing, and now he was doomed. Sunk. Dead.
The music had begun to get louder, and the notes and melody wove in and out of each other. In the swell of the sounds, Sildil could suddenly hear the rise and fall of the waves and the call of the sea and he felt the tug of Valinor in his heart.
His re-awakened sea-longing, never completely absent, brought tears to his eyes and for a moment he was back wandering lost along the shore where Mirien had found him a few weeks ago, listening to the plaintive cry of the gulls.
All thoughts of his impending walloping faded as he closed his eyes and allowed himself to be carried along by the song, until he felt that if he opened them again he would see the white shores of his longed-for home.
Instead, when he opened them he saw his love coming towards him and seeing him reminded Sildil of the Taurnil’s promise, that when the call got too painful for him to bear the elf would sail West with Sil. He smiled. He was an idiot. He didn’t need to prove himself to anyone, not with someone who loved him enough to follow him to the ends of Arda and beyond.
Suddenly it didn’t matter one bit whether he won or lost. He already had the prize and it was not something that he would ever lose. Surprising himself he got up, took Taurnil’s hand firmly and led them both to join in the singing, raising his voice in love and joy.
For those of you who don't know, Sil (not exactly the most skillfull elf with a weapon in Imladris, unless you count sharpened pencils) challenged an elf to an archery and swordfighting contest when said elf cast doubts on his ability to look after himself.
Sildil sat listening to the music. A group of elves, enjoying the fine midsummer evening had gathered together to sing the praises of Iluvatar, their voices blending with the sounds of the evening. Other passers-by had paused as well, quietly smiling where they stood. Occasionally one would step forward and join in with the music, while now and then one of the singers would fall silent and leave the choir.
Sil had not intended to stop. He had been running around in barely suppressed panic. One minute he was practising his archery with Taelin and the next he had a sword in his hand and was sparring with first Mirien and then Celebrimbor. And there was the ‘promise’ that Lord Maedhros himself was intending to give him some sword-fighting practice. Sildil did not know whether to be glad or sorry.
Just underneath the surface bubbled a genuine feeling of terror. How did he get into these messes? Why in Arda did he challenge that elf to a fighting contest? He was going to get thrashed, he knew it. But the trouble was, he believed the wretched elf when he said that Sildil was not worthy of his lover Taurnil’s affections.
It seemed that every male elf in Imladris, and some of the female ones, could wield a sword and shoot with a bow, and Sildil had felt rather ashamed of his lack in fighting skills. He used to be quite good when Tuor had sparred with him and taught him moves. But Helm’s Deep and the loss of his first love had taken away any desire he once had for combat. But now he faced this contest. Next week. Actually, less than that, in barely a few days.
He had risen to the challenge before he knew what he was doing, and now he was doomed. Sunk. Dead.
The music had begun to get louder, and the notes and melody wove in and out of each other. In the swell of the sounds, Sildil could suddenly hear the rise and fall of the waves and the call of the sea and he felt the tug of Valinor in his heart.
His re-awakened sea-longing, never completely absent, brought tears to his eyes and for a moment he was back wandering lost along the shore where Mirien had found him a few weeks ago, listening to the plaintive cry of the gulls.
All thoughts of his impending walloping faded as he closed his eyes and allowed himself to be carried along by the song, until he felt that if he opened them again he would see the white shores of his longed-for home.
Instead, when he opened them he saw his love coming towards him and seeing him reminded Sildil of the Taurnil’s promise, that when the call got too painful for him to bear the elf would sail West with Sil. He smiled. He was an idiot. He didn’t need to prove himself to anyone, not with someone who loved him enough to follow him to the ends of Arda and beyond.
Suddenly it didn’t matter one bit whether he won or lost. He already had the prize and it was not something that he would ever lose. Surprising himself he got up, took Taurnil’s hand firmly and led them both to join in the singing, raising his voice in love and joy.
For those of you who don't know, Sil (not exactly the most skillfull elf with a weapon in Imladris, unless you count sharpened pencils) challenged an elf to an archery and swordfighting contest when said elf cast doubts on his ability to look after himself.
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(no subject)
Date: 2004-06-25 03:20 pm (UTC)As for singing, well, that the elf can do. Very nice!
(no subject)
Date: 2004-06-26 02:12 am (UTC)A Contest Won!
Date: 2004-06-28 01:02 pm (UTC)Re: A Contest Won!
Date: 2004-06-29 08:45 am (UTC)