New Challenge: Potluck Bingo
Sit down to a delicious selection of prompts served on bingo boards, created by the SWG community.
Write a story or poem or create a piece of artwork reflecting identification with or connection to one’s land, country or culture.
Wine
Laurefindil likes the country they have settled in. Somewhere on the ice, he ceased being the carefree youth who would chance the disapproval of all Tirion for a tryst, and instead became someone who knows that the survival of his people depends on him, too.
Turukáno is lost without Elenwë, and needs him more than ever. Laurefindil is now a lord of Vinyamar. He names his house for the golden celandine that sprang into blossom when they first stepped onto these shores.
He helps to build Turukáno's halls with his own hands. As if to build a monument to his grief, Turukáno spends long, feverish nights with his architects, and at last the glory of Vinyamar nearly seems to rival the white city they left behind.
Laurefindil builds himself a home on the southward facing slopes. It is a great mansion; he has many men and women now who wear his golden flower on their livery. His garden is large and beautiful, strewn with celandine in spring, ripe with grapes in autumn.
The first wine he bottles is thin and sour. It is too cold here, too close to the sea.
He continues to experiment with the wild vines he barters for with the native Sindar of these lands. Only courtesy keeps his king from spitting out the wine he hopefully serves.
In Gondolin, Laurefindil knows better. He builds his small vineyard facing south again, next to the large baths that serve his part of the city. The earth is warmed by the pipes that lead the heated water to the pools; here, even the heavy reds he favors flourish.
He remembers his father's wine: the touch of oak; the burst of sweet, red fruit; the richness that is the light of Laurelin caught not in a Silmaril, but in the grapes his father so lovingly tends.
At Tarnin Austa, Laurefindil pours his own wine into a goblet of clear crystal, raises it towards the setting sun in greeting. He wonders if far, far to the west, his father does the same.