< Previous Olwë < Previous Comet
Inside his audience chambers, Olwe paces, arms wrapped tightly around old wounds that contniually are reopened by unseen claws.
Ǿυεεŋ Čөмεŧ opens it carefully and peeks in. Malkyte Thorne stays close beside her queen. His back to the door, Olwe whirls around at the sound of it opening. Llyra Constantine slips in quietly. Veronique folllows the Queen, staying close behind her. Ǿυεεŋ Čөмεŧ searches the room for a moment. Her eys rest on a figure that she does not recognize. She steps forward. "Exuse me." Then she gasps.
Slowly, Olwe regards the gathering,. his eyes roving over them, recognition slowly coming ot his eyes. Finally, he sees Comet, and a smile comes across his lips, lights his eyes. "Beloved."
"My dear cousin!"
Olwe takes a few steps forward, hand extending, trembling. "My eyes must deceive me."
Tears come to her eyes as she sees how changed he has become. She extends her hand to touch him. Malakyte Thorne waits, seeing there is only one in the room who is obviously no danger to the queen and not wanting to interrupt this reunion. Veronique takes a few steps foward, following the queen, then stops. Olwe gently reaches out and touches her hair, eyes tearing. "You...your hair." He twirls a strand around trembling fingers.
Powers Constantine silently watches the Queen.
"I had to come, my love..I had to see you." Ǿυεεŋ Čөмεŧ sobs and embraces him.
Veronique casts her eyes down, as if studying the pattern in the carpet. Malakyte Thorne sighs, overhearing the pain in her queens voice. Olwe slips his fingers through her hair and down to softly, tentatively caress her cheek. "No, no, Beloved...no tears."He pulls her to him and wraps his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. Olwe sways gently with her, murmuring quietly in Quenya. "Oh, sweet, sweet Comet...No tears..."
Pulling back, Ǿυεεŋ Čөмεŧ holds his hands and gazes into his face. "How are you, Beloved?"
Olwe gives her a tender smile, which grows a little sad. "I am...as you see me. But you, you, precious Beloved. Where is thy golden locks?"
Ǿυεεŋ Čөмεŧ smiles, sniffles, and dabs her eyes. "They are a bit worse for the wear, and perhaps the ride." Olwe reaches up and gently with his tumbs, wipes tears from her cheeks. Leaning forward, he gently plants a kiss on her forehead. Ǿυεεŋ Čөмεŧ reaches you to kiss his lips and draws him into a deep kiss. Ǿυεεŋ Čөмεŧ's mind reels with all the things that could have been, and never were. The star crossed paths of the royal pair....
Olwe looks back at his cousin. "Has it..." his voice grows very soft, "has it begun?" His hands traces her cheek, and a tear rolls down his own. Then he takes her in his arms and gives her one tender kiss on the lips, murmuring, "For all we could have been to each other." Veronique turns her head away from the display of affection, her eyes full of sorrow.
Llyra Constantine's silvered eyes never blink as she thinks, "No fire, nor water, nor earth." Breathing slowly, she tests the purity of the air. Veronique brushes the back of a hand across one cheek, her eyes focused on the carpet. She schools her expression to be carefully impassive.
Catching the Lady Lyra's words, he reassures her, "Alqualonde is still blessed by the Valar, though its king is cast into darkness, Lady."
"I have brought some friends, some of whom you may know," says the Sylvan Queen.
The King of the Teleri looks down and smiles into Comet's face, his eyes moist. He looks at her hair, and a deep sadness steals across his features. "Some are known to me, yes?" He looks up and greets them. "Welcome to Alqualonde."
Llyra Constantine smiles gently. "Blessed, yes, Sire. Did we not agree it was just Llyra?" She teases him in her melodic voice.
Powers Constantine bows and smiles. "It is so good to see you again."
Malakyte Thorne nods politely. "Well met, your Majesty."
"There is wine and cheese somewhere. I would not venture to try any soup offered. They 'picked' the noodles from the garden." Olwe gives a rueful smile. Malakyte Thorne listens closely.
Powers Constantine laughs. "That might be good for dragons!"
Veronique looks up and smiles warmly, then looks at the Queen. "We have met, though I do not know if the king was of a mind that he might remember me now."
Čөмεŧ takes his hand and draws him to a chair. Llyra Constantine curls a hand. A light breeze stirs in the room. Scented with lilies and the smell of the warm ocean, it travels the air, bringing their words to her ears. "Please, sit, Beloved."
"No, no, beauty before age." He watches her, so she sits to please him.
Malakyte Thorne watches quietly, the emotions in the air not lost on her.
Olwe beckons forth the company. "Need I more chairs?" He looks about. "Come, sit."
Veronique turns her gaze back to the pair and then nods politely, moving toward one of the seats, she sits. Llyra Constantine moves to a chair and sits down. The Sylvan queen speaks to her cousin. "I have brought Lady Llyra, Lady Mala, and her grace, Veronique. Healers all. Lord Powers, I believe you know as well." Malakyte Thorne smiles and steps carefully on the beautiful thick carpet, enjoying its rich softness. She settles onto it in appreciation, careful to keep her talons sheathed.
"Dear Lady, "he smiles to Llyra and bows his head. "Well I remember thee, with great affection." He also bows to Mala and Veronique. "Greetings, once more, beloved of my Beloved Cousin." He gives Powers a warm regarding look and smile. "Well met, Powers."
"My hope was that they might comfort you and improve your condition if possible"
Powers Constantine nods. "It is always good to see you, my friend."
Veronique smiles at the King and nods to him politely, "I thank you for your welcome."
Malakyte Thorne looks up and smiles, whileLlyra Constantine rests uncomfortably in the chair. Shifting her skirts, she calls the air and bids it to warmth. Smiling widely in a rare smile, she asks, "Sire, what may we do to aid you?"
Olwe gives an old familar open smile before it fades and a quick wince of pain sweeps across his features. Veronique glances at Llyra, settling back in her own chair. Ǿυεεŋ Čөмεŧ fidgets as she observes Olwe. "Always, you have shown me such kind regard. Dear are you all to me, nearly as dear as my own beloved."his voice falters..."Teleri."
Powers gestures to the remaining chair. "Please, King Olwe, take the seat."
Malakyte Thorne senses some of the pain in the elven king and studies him closely. Llyra Constantine moves forward in her seat, her eyes at once attentive to his pain shown so openly. Olwe blushes a little and slowly lowers himself to the seat, wrapping an arm around his stomach as he does so and gives a small hiss of pain. Veronique rests her hands on the arms of the chair, sinking her fingers into the arms, as she watches the King's discomfort. Ǿυεεŋ Čөмεŧ hides a nervous jump at his pain.
Llyra looks to the Queen. "Might I assist him, Majesty?"
"Please."
Powers Constantine sighs heavily, seeing the King in such pain. Llyra Constantine nods and rises, moving to the King's side. Veronique's eyes follow Llyra's actions carefully and she inhales slowly, as she centers herself to observe. Olwe shake his head a little at the Lady and pulls back a bit. "Nay, nay...I...there is nothing you can do."
Ǿυεεŋ Čөмεŧ pleads, "Please, Cousin, let them try."
Llyra Constantine gently holds a hand out. "Let us try to ease the pain, Olwe."
Ǿυεεŋ Čөмεŧ gently pleads again. "Indulge my efforts.
Olwe bows his head and takes in a ragged breath. "I.." He tries to speak and then bends over a little, gasping and cluchtching himself. His face drains of color, and a violent tremor takes his body. "No," he moans...."no, not now."
Veronique still holds the arms of her chairs, looking almost as if she wishes to rise to support both Llyra and the King. She whispers a soft prayer under her breath to gain focus. Ǿυεεŋ Čөмεŧ rests her gaze upon Olwe. Her mind travels across the memories of her girlhood. His beauty took her breath when first she saw the Teleri king.
Olwe whispers, "It's always here, always. My waking, my sleeping, it never stops, never stops. " He raises his head to look at his cousin, the pain etched on his features. "It is real, Comet. It is real."
((to be continued))