A Day In The Life by hennethgalad

Chapter 1

Read Chapter 1

Matryoshka Challenge. The Hero's Journey.

 

 

 Prompt 1: A day in the life.

 

 Glorfindel woke to the sound of his father singing gaily, his mother serenely harmonising. He could hear his older sister giggling as they sang the romantic lyrics. He leapt out of bed and pulled on his loose breeches and an old tunic, and ran through the house. They were in the hallway, waiting with smiles. 

 'Do not forget your shoes.' said his father in a mock-stern voice, and they all laughed, remembering the time an impatient young Glorfindel had set off on the morning run with bare feet, and had to be sent back to finish dressing.

 'Do not be hasty !' they all chorused, laughing. 

 

Outside, the air was warm and silvery, Laurelin rested, and Telperion waxed. The garden was full of the bright, vivid flowers of Valinor, and sweet with their fragrances. Glorfindel smiled with happiness and stretched his arms above his head, hearing his back click. He considered more exercise, he seemed to be always on the move, but still was not strong enough to meet his own expectations. His father ran on the spot for a moment, then looked around at them.

 'Are we ready ? Good, then let us begin.' he smiled at Glorfindel 'Slowly at first !' he laughed.

 

 They ran down the rutted drive to the gate and turned into the overgrown lane that the feet of his parents, then later the whole family, had worn into the countryside. Fruit trees overhung them, providing shelter from the occasional rain. Butterflies of every imaginable colour danced in the air, while the purposeful bees flew their straight orderly lines to and fro.

 

 At first the only sounds were the birds and insects, but after a while Glorfindel's father began to sing again. His voice was good, but when the words were emotional, he would lose the note as he sought to convey the emotion. It had been his dream, when first arrived in Valinor, to join one of the great Choirs, perhaps even that of Varda herself, but his tendency to become involved in the emotions had thwarted him. Now he tended his orchards and sang only for his children and his beloved golden wife.

 

 But as they ran, they scrutinised the soil, the trees of the orchards, the weather, and the hundred small signs of the wildlife, to guard the health of the plants, and of themselves. Glorfindel could easily tell that his father was pleased, but his mother, as usual, merely smiled quietly as she ran, her long plait, like his own, swaying and bouncing with the motion. As they ran by the Small Stream, she gestured at the thick green foliage growing in the clear shallows.

 'Watercress soup tonight, if you take Celegorm with you to gather some, Glorfindel.'

 

 His father stopped in his tracks, his mother ran a few steps then faltered and turned back. His sister, further ahead, stopped to wait for them. Glorfindel looked from one parent to another.

 'Celegorm, son of Fëanor, is coming here ?' he asked finally. His father was looking disappointed, his mother apologetic. Finally she spoke aloud.

  'I am sorry, my love, I know you wished to surpise Glorfindel.'

His father smiled regretfully 'I am sure that he is surprised now.' he turned to Glorfindel 'Yes, young Celegorm has been sent by his mother to learn the ways of plants. I hope that you will take him with you as you go about, and show him how we live, and answer his questions as best you can.'

 Glorfindel looked a little alarmed 'But father, I do not know the plants as you do ! Why, even my sister is more learned than I on these matters, surely...' he faltered. His parents were looking at each other with smiles. His mother spoke. 

 'Yes, we hope that your attempts to explain to Celegorm will be beneficial in your own education. Of course you must ask us any questions which you need answering, and refer to the books of lore when in doubt. But we are confident that you can at least show Celegorm which plants are harmful and to be avoided.'

 

 Glorfindel spent the morning weeding in the herb garden with his mother. The high walls kept the wind out, in the peaceful green silence he felt at ease, and let his thoughts drift into dreams of the future. His mother's soft voice woke him from reverie.

 'My dear son, I would offer some advice.'

Glorfindel looked at her in surprise, she so rarely spoke at all, and almost never gave instruction. Her preferred method was merely to do whatever she wished done until the eager mimicry of the child inspired Glorfindel to wish to copy her, or at least to join in. Her deep blue eyes looked thoughtfully at him.

 'You are young, and so is Celegorm, but unlike you, Celegorm has anger in him. He has inherited his father's temper, but not his patience. You will have heard these things already, but I would remind you of them again. I advise that you display patience, and show him that haste is the most dangerous plant of all, and it grows within us all.'

 'The swifter the mind, the hastier the deed.' answered Glorfindel.

His mother nodded 'His mind is swift indeed, but I am told that if he has made his mind up, he will not be dissuaded; which can be admirable, unless the thought was careless and hasty, in which case stubbornly clinging to error becomes a trouble.'

 

 They ate the midday meal together in the large kitchen, rich with the smells of cooking; his sister had made a hearty stew with thyme dumplings. Glorfindel found himself distracted by thoughts of the arrival of Celegorm, whom he had only ever seen at a distance. Clever but impatient, he sounded difficult to get along with, and Glorfindel was expected to teach him. He stared unseeingly out of the window, eating absent-mindedly, lost in thought.

  His tactful parents left him in peace, though after they had eaten his father spoke softly to his mother.

 'You were right to tell him, he does need time to prepare his mind. I admit that I had underestimated him. Perhaps I mistook him altogether. I believe you have made his life so happy that he has never had cause for anger or even fear. But I had thought him carelessly spontaneous and in need of steadying; not from the influence of Celegorm, but in reaction to it.'

 His wife shooke her head 'Not I, my love, but you are the one who has made this home happy. Your singing would bring joy to Varda...' 

 They laughed together, but she spoke again 'He takes after you, my dear, in concealing his subtlety behind laughter and song.'