I am Gabriel Galadriel~
I have more time on my hands now, than I ever imagined possible. It is odd when one is cursed, how we never once think we may be in the situation in which we end up. For me, I think, maybe just a pinch of forethought would have revealed I traveled a tortured road. But I can't think back on that now. What is, is. What will be, etcetera.
I have more time on my hands now, than I ever imagined possible. It is odd when one is cursed, how we never once think we may be in the situation in which we end up. For me, I think, maybe just a pinch of forethought would have revealed I traveled a tortured road. But I can't think back on that now. What is, is. What will be, etcetera.
Still, with so much time on my hands, I've time to consider the missteps of my youth. I was a rebellious older son, as children go. Oft times, my father would comment on the oddity of my behavior and that of my brother's as he compared us with royalty of other lands. The eldest son was always considered responsible. The younger, the risk taker. But for my brother, Cian and I, our characters were a complete opposite. Truly, I was the stronger and smarter of the two, but intelligence does not always translate into good decisions. I was first to reciprocate a punch in a fight, first on the front line of any battle, first among my friends to lay with a woman. I threw my life and caution to the wind and demanded God throw life back at me full throttle.
Cian plotted out every move he made. He worked not on instinct but with discipline. I oft admired his ability to calculate and manipulate those around him. Not for foul, mind you, but to accomplish his diplomatic goals. It is too bad our father did not so appreciate our strengths. So many droll meetings of state did I sit through, my gaze passing through the tall stately windows of my father's meeting chamber. I felt as if my soul wished to fly out into the glorious blue sky... but I was trapped just as my spirit companion, its large Eagle wings stretching to take me farther, spread wide.
As if it were yesterday, I could feel the fresh air on my face. The sun shone down on my soluble form. Freedom was close. One moment more and I would be gone from this place! The drone of my father's advisors faded away behind me. Then the inevitable jerk. Brown and white wings were suddenly trussed up into a shamble of mauve-colored drapes. My soul was pulled taut, stretched and stopped forever from escape.
And what would I see in my captured state then my brother sitting on a stone bench in the quiet garden below, book in hand. His face was turned up as if he could hear me calling to him. There was longing on his face. And sadness. I knew his thoughts though I could not have heard any words he might have uttered from there. Were he me, he would not escape. He would relish the game I call country running. Yes. That was longing tinging his face.
And then he would look down once more at his book. I, in my body once more, would be called to pay attention. And I would turn to my father, his long gray beard swinging with those words of chastisement, and whisper a tired, "I'm sorry, father." His gold crowned head would nod.
Oh yes, I do so wish my father had seen then that I was fitted to be the adventurous son and Cian, to rule. I might not have run headlong into the danger to prove myself a knight. Still, looking back now stuck as I am in this infinite hell, I feel a sense of loss. I did not wish to be the ruler of a kingdom. I did wish to be my father's son. I did embrace life in my father's castle. I remember the smell of lavender incense, the softness of pelts padding the chambers, even the sweet soft burn of scented candles in tapers along the walls. I might try to look up now and can almost envision the beauty of the tall arched ceiling above me. So old and austere. So beautiful. So confining yet still my home.
But those are fast fading memories. I have been trapped in this cabin a year with no hope of escape and only my sanity to keep me company. I fear that too shall flee me in time. Yes, and I have time... I have time to keep me company as I never age, never love, never have sons of my own to chastise. I am truly cursed! Anger overcomes me.
Cian plotted out every move he made. He worked not on instinct but with discipline. I oft admired his ability to calculate and manipulate those around him. Not for foul, mind you, but to accomplish his diplomatic goals. It is too bad our father did not so appreciate our strengths. So many droll meetings of state did I sit through, my gaze passing through the tall stately windows of my father's meeting chamber. I felt as if my soul wished to fly out into the glorious blue sky... but I was trapped just as my spirit companion, its large Eagle wings stretching to take me farther, spread wide.
As if it were yesterday, I could feel the fresh air on my face. The sun shone down on my soluble form. Freedom was close. One moment more and I would be gone from this place! The drone of my father's advisors faded away behind me. Then the inevitable jerk. Brown and white wings were suddenly trussed up into a shamble of mauve-colored drapes. My soul was pulled taut, stretched and stopped forever from escape.
And what would I see in my captured state then my brother sitting on a stone bench in the quiet garden below, book in hand. His face was turned up as if he could hear me calling to him. There was longing on his face. And sadness. I knew his thoughts though I could not have heard any words he might have uttered from there. Were he me, he would not escape. He would relish the game I call country running. Yes. That was longing tinging his face.
And then he would look down once more at his book. I, in my body once more, would be called to pay attention. And I would turn to my father, his long gray beard swinging with those words of chastisement, and whisper a tired, "I'm sorry, father." His gold crowned head would nod.
Oh yes, I do so wish my father had seen then that I was fitted to be the adventurous son and Cian, to rule. I might not have run headlong into the danger to prove myself a knight. Still, looking back now stuck as I am in this infinite hell, I feel a sense of loss. I did not wish to be the ruler of a kingdom. I did wish to be my father's son. I did embrace life in my father's castle. I remember the smell of lavender incense, the softness of pelts padding the chambers, even the sweet soft burn of scented candles in tapers along the walls. I might try to look up now and can almost envision the beauty of the tall arched ceiling above me. So old and austere. So beautiful. So confining yet still my home.
But those are fast fading memories. I have been trapped in this cabin a year with no hope of escape and only my sanity to keep me company. I fear that too shall flee me in time. Yes, and I have time... I have time to keep me company as I never age, never love, never have sons of my own to chastise. I am truly cursed! Anger overcomes me.
