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alaklondewen · 01-20-2005, 03:12 PM

“Why do you ask questions to which you already know the answers?”

Arlomë pulled back from the General’s embrace and looked up, searchingly, into his face. His graceful features were pale and lined with weariness. Her long slender hand rose and gently touched his cheek, tracing the shape of his cheekbone with her thumb. “Hope,” she said simply to answer his question, and then let her hand drop. As she turned from Elrigon to move closer to his desk, he repeated the word, dripping with sarcasm. Silence settled over the couple once more, and Arlomë let her eyes roam over the length of Morgôs’ desk. He had not left any of his work uncovered, but had quickly stashed his documents when she called him a few minutes ago. She slowly touched the hardwood, then lifted her fingertips and examined the dust which had transferred to her pale skin. Then she quickly rubbed them together and broke the long silence. “When this first began, Elrigon, I thought it was simply a phase that would shortly disappear.” She paused, gathering her thoughts. She could feel Morgôs turn his eyes upon her, but she continued to look at the desk. “As the years passed, I continued to hope that this interest would pass.” Arlomë waved her arm over the desk and toward the surrounding shelves. “Now, each time you let...whatever this is...consume you...” She stopped, taking a breath, then turned toward her husband again. Her eyes flashed with fury. “I can see what this does to you. I ask...and will never stop asking, Elrigon, because I will not give up hope that one day you will surprise me.”

“I have sworn to you that I will not venture here. What else can I do?” The sarcasm had left the General’s voice, and it seem to Arlomë that he was apologetic.

“You swore only to let these pages go for a time. I would wish for you to leave them forever.” Arlomë held his gaze steady, but Morgôs looked away, staring vaguely toward his shelves. “I cannot promise you that,” his voice was low, yet sincere. He held himself straight, but Arlomë could still see the weariness in his limbs from not being used. She hated seeing him like this, and so she answered, “Then I cannot promise to leave you with it in peace.”

“You do not understand...” The General began again, turning his grey eyes on his wife, but she did not allow him to continue. “You are right,” she said softly. “I do not understand. You say this eases your mind, yet it seems to me it places a greater strain on your mind than the other things in your life. Maybe if I could understand.” Arlomë leaned on the desk and scanned it, before reaching for the great tome that took so much of her husband’s time and sliding it across the desk toward her. “May I see?”

01-20-2005, 03:12 PM	#149
alaklondewen Song of Seregon Join Date: Feb 2002 Location: Following the road less traveled Posts: 1,193	Arlomë “Why do you ask questions to which you already know the answers?” Arlomë pulled back from the General’s embrace and looked up, searchingly, into his face. His graceful features were pale and lined with weariness. Her long slender hand rose and gently touched his cheek, tracing the shape of his cheekbone with her thumb. “Hope,” she said simply to answer his question, and then let her hand drop. As she turned from Elrigon to move closer to his desk, he repeated the word, dripping with sarcasm. Silence settled over the couple once more, and Arlomë let her eyes roam over the length of Morgôs’ desk. He had not left any of his work uncovered, but had quickly stashed his documents when she called him a few minutes ago. She slowly touched the hardwood, then lifted her fingertips and examined the dust which had transferred to her pale skin. Then she quickly rubbed them together and broke the long silence. “When this first began, Elrigon, I thought it was simply a phase that would shortly disappear.” She paused, gathering her thoughts. She could feel Morgôs turn his eyes upon her, but she continued to look at the desk. “As the years passed, I continued to hope that this interest would pass.” Arlomë waved her arm over the desk and toward the surrounding shelves. “Now, each time you let...whatever this is...consume you...” She stopped, taking a breath, then turned toward her husband again. Her eyes flashed with fury. “I can see what this does to you. I ask...and will never stop asking, Elrigon, because I will not give up hope that one day you will surprise me.” “I have sworn to you that I will not venture here. What else can I do?” The sarcasm had left the General’s voice, and it seem to Arlomë that he was apologetic. “You swore only to let these pages go for a time. I would wish for you to leave them forever.” Arlomë held his gaze steady, but Morgôs looked away, staring vaguely toward his shelves. “I cannot promise you that,” his voice was low, yet sincere. He held himself straight, but Arlomë could still see the weariness in his limbs from not being used. She hated seeing him like this, and so she answered, “Then I cannot promise to leave you with it in peace.” “You do not understand...” The General began again, turning his grey eyes on his wife, but she did not allow him to continue. “You are right,” she said softly. “I do not understand. You say this eases your mind, yet it seems to me it places a greater strain on your mind than the other things in your life. Maybe if I could understand.” Arlomë leaned on the desk and scanned it, before reaching for the great tome that took so much of her husband’s time and sliding it across the desk toward her. “May I see?”