New Challenge: Potluck Bingo
Sit down to a delicious selection of prompts served on bingo boards, created by the SWG community.
A double-drabble where Celegorm remembers his friendship with Oromë before he swears the Oath of the Fëanorians. I often ponder which son went first and which went last; in my mind, I often change their roles and try to develop the motives for each choice. It could make an interesting series of stories someday. In the meanwhile, it's a fun characterization exercise at least!
The torchlight paints shadows upon his face. He holds out a blade, unwavering and pointed to my chest. Your turn to swear.
I wonder how the torchlight looks upon me and hope it hides the doubt carving a frown upon my face. Or eyes suddenly welling with memory of forsaken friendship.
It is my turn.
For Curufinwë went first, son in image of father, then Nelyo, acting the obedient heir; Macalaurë next, in his brother's footsteps; the twins with eager, red-rimmed eyes and Carnistir last, strange motives of a strange heart as ever indecipherable as he spoke our father's oath.
Until only I am left.
Firelight gilds Father's blade; the steel runs red.
Even in Formenos, I remembered Oromë.
But I will not think that. 'Tis not his blood in my veins, nor is love for him first in my heart.
Nonetheless, I hesitate.
Eldar weren't meant to be seen this way, in torchlight, feral beasts drawn to heat of flame. Only once before have I known such fire-streaked darkness, in the womb, with his blood in my veins.
Valinor's plains gilded by Laurelin--and friendships found there--can be no more.
I take my place at my father's side.
Today's word:
factious FAK-shuhs, adjective:
Factious derives from Latin factiosus, from factio, a party, a group of people, especially a political party, faction, or side.