Siblings - continued (closed)

[duilin]

Duilin was standing outside the house, leaning against the wooden wall, with her arms crossed, staring into the East. She wasn't moving, not a bit. There was a light wind in the air that blew about her hair and pulled slightly on her dress. It was nighttime, nothing and no one was seen or heard, but a small candle to her side gave a little light. The moon and the stars were hidden beneath a thick shield of clouds.

She was beginning to freeze a little. Goosebumps formed on her arms. Yet, she still remained, just staring. She was not staring at anything in particular, for all she could see was darkness. But she knew that, somewhere in the direction she was staring at, he must be. Supposedly, he had gone to Gondor, and Gondor lay to the East. Therefore, she was gazing into the East, not caring that her eyes saw nothing but black. It were not her eyes that were searching to find him, but her heart.

It had been a little over eleven years now that she had last seen him. He had given her a hug and a kiss on her hair and told her good-night. She had given him a smile, sensing nothing to be any different, and had crawled beneath her bed-sheets. And the next morning, after rubbing the sleep out of the eyes, he had been gone. And their mother had been gone, too. Two horses had been missing. Some food and their clothes had been gone, as well. It hadn’t taken the remaining very long to realize that Eleneth, the mother, had left together with Galwion, her eldest son.

Beran, the father, had shown no reaction. Duilin had thought back then that he did not care his wife and eldest son had left them. Now, almost ten years later, she was wiser and understood: Beran had difficulties with showing and especially voicing his emotions. That made him appear cold, when at the same time he wanted to cry or to jump with joy. Understanding how hurt Beran really must have been had made him even more beloved in Duilin’s eyes.

Daerol, Duilin’s second eldest brother, had reacted much differently. He had shown, from the beginning onward, how much he missed Galwion and their mother. He had talked about missing them, had talked about his and the entire village’s assumptions as to where the two had gone to, and Duilin even had heard him cry in his sleep twice or thrice.

Thinking back now, the girl of sixteen did not know how she had reacted. She couldn’t remember it. Had she cried, had she been angry? Had she been passive, like her father? Duilin knew not what she had felt back then. She only knew what she felt now, and had felt for a long time now: a great longing for Galwion, and a lack of understanding and also anger, much anger, toward her mother.

‘Galwion now must be twentytwo’, she thought. She wondered where in Gondor he was. Or if he really was in Gondor, at all. No one knew for sure, it simply had been assumed. Eleneth had come to Rohan from Gondor. So, to the villagers it only seemed natural for her to return there again.

The night was growing even colder. Duilin took a shaky breath, and decided to head back inside. She picked up the candle, holding it close so that the flame might warm her a little. She walked around the edge toward the entrance door to the smithy. Beran was a smith. He had inherited this smithy with attached living quarters for the smith’s family. Duilin walked through the working room, cautiously so not to trip over some leaning axes or helmets, until she reached the door that led to the living quarters. From then on, she moved on tiptoes. She did not want to wake either Beran or Daerol. She even blew out her candle so that the light would not irritate them. Carefully, she moved over to her own room, formerly her late grandmother’s room, and opened the door.

She was blinded by light, and couldn’t see for a few moments until her eyes adjusted to this new sensation. She blinked a few times, then she saw her brother sitting on her bed’s side. She closed the door behind herself. ”Where do you come from?”

[/colour] He asked her. His words were spoken kindly and curiously, with a little worry shining through.

Still feeling the chill of the night’s air outside, Duilin sat beside him and covered herself a little by the blanket. ”Just outside.”[/colour] She told him evasively, not looking into his eyes. She did not like discussing the topic of their brother and mother. Daerol, on the other hand, who always had felt protective over his little sister, wished to discuss it at every chance. Probably he thought it would help her, would she speak of it. Stubbornly, she struggled against this discussion.

”Just outside?”[/colour] He echoed. ”I’ve been sitting here for more than half an hour, waiting for you. What have you been doing outside?”[/colour] Again, this kind but strongly inquireing, adamantine tone. Duilin shivered a little. She did not like lying to him. Usually, the siblings had a very open, close relationship without any secrets, but instead much laughter and love. Just when it came to this one topic, Duilin couldn’t help shutting him out. ”I just took a walk.”[/colour] She told him, already knowing he would not believe her. And she was right, now he was eyeing her suspiciously, obviously not believing one word.

She gave in. She was tired and cold, and at the moment had not her usual strength. With a great sigh, she said: ”Fine, I did not just go for a walk. I was outside to think a little. To have some peace.”[/colour] She admitted.

Daerol, being a very sensible nineteen year old man, caught her drift. He nodded a little, and suddenly embraced her. ”But you mustn’t catch a cold while ‘thinking’.”[/colour] He told her wisely, not deepening the topic of what she was thinking about, but instead rubbing her arms a little to warm her. ”You can think in here, too, can’t you?”[/colour] He asked, standing up to tuck her in beneath the blanket.

Duilin simply nodded in response, sleep overtaking her. She did not want to discuss her reasons now. Perhaps tomorrow. She clutched onto his hand for a little time, and after a short while he spoke again. ”Just tell me when to give you some peace and time to think, Duilin. Then I mustn’t worry. Though I would prefer would you talk to me about them, too.”[/colour] He added softly, well knowing she probably wouldn’t answer anymore. Her eyes were closed. He gave her a kiss on her forehead, carefully disentangled his hand from hers and left her to sleep.

Duilin had not yet realized that by missing whom she could not have, she forgot to cherish the one who always had been there for her. [/blockquote][/size]

[duilin]

Daerol shook his head lightly when he stepped out of his sister's room. He closed the door behind himself. Why wouldn't she speak to him, directly, openly, about Galwion and their mother? To him, it would make things so much easier. Speaking could solve so many problems. Speaking brought people together, didn't it? But Duilin was just like their father in this aspect: Don't tell others about your problems. Don't burden them. Yes, that was how Beran and Duilin behaved when Eleneth and Galwion were on their minds. They were shutting everyone else out, believing that at least it would make others feel untroubled. How wrong they were. Shutting their own family members out, the only ones they had left, made it all even worse. Beran was a master at hiding his feelings. None of his children, not even his wife had been able to tell when he was troubled. But Duilin - Daerol knew her too well. he knew exactly when she was not alright, and he himself felt hurt seeing his sister suffering. It also hurt him a little that she would not confide in him - but he was too proud to acknowledge this.

So, this night, after this scarce talk to Duilin, Daerol felt frustrated. he felt worried and unsatisfied and left out and frustrated. Putting his forehead into wrinkles, he entered his own room and shut the door, perhaps with a little more power than necessary. But not as lout as to wake the other two inhabitants of this smithy. He gave a little groan and ran both his hands and fingers through his hair. How could Daerol find sleep now? He was a smith's apprentice, his own father's apprentice, and needed to stand up with sunrise. Yet, although he felt tired, he knew that he would not be able to find sleep for quite some time yet. He would never get enough sleep for tomorrow's work, he knew.

---

When Duilin woke up the next morning, she barely recalled what she had dreamed about, nor what exactly had happened the previous night, so tired had she been. She knew that she had climbed up the stairs to the first floor, where Daerol and her own quarters lay, and that she met her brother and that they had spoken a few words - but there ended her memory. Bright red sun beams were now shining through the little shabby window into her room. It must have been not long after sunrise.

She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and stood up - already dressed, even with shoes on. Apparently she had not made it into her night dress last night. Duilin shrugged and smoothed out a few wrinkles in her simple beige-brown dress, which was scattered with stains. She stretched and moved over to where a small washing basin and a dirty mirror stood on a table. There she cleaned her face and combed her hair before binding it with a brown ribbon. Now, she was ready for the day.

She walked downstairs and already could hear her father and brother working in the smithy, hammering. It was a sound she was well used to. She did not even mind the intensity of those rhythmical metallic clashes. She walked into the kitchen to prepare a little breakfast for them all. She put oat flakes into hot cooking water and boiled them, stirring them clockwise. She cut two apples into little cubes and portioned them into three wooden bowls, and then poured the porridge over them. Porridge with apple was an everyday breakfast to them. It was easy to cook, did not take much time, and gave the energy for the rest of the day. Perhaps it would have tasted even better with cinnamon, but the family had none. They were not very rich. Placing the wooden bowls on the dining table together with spoons, she now only had to fetch Daerol and Beran and get them away from their hammers.

Cautiously, she knocked at the door that led into the smithy, then she opened it. "Breakfast is ready!" She called out, almost screaming so that the two men would hear it over their clashes. And she had been successful, for soon after came in a bear of a man, Beran, and right after him an obviously very tired Daerol, who gave her a look she could not interpret that moment. No words were being spoken while they sat and began eating.

Duilin decided to break the silence. "I thought about chicken eggs and spinach for lunch." She told, hoping for approving reactions. Beran grunted in approval. Daerol stayed silent, but shot her another gaze, one that made her frown a little. "Or do you want something else?" She asked, nervously tapping her spoon against the edge of the wooden bowl. "No, eggs and spinach is fine." Came Daerol's answer. Again followed a moment of silence. Then Daerol spoke again, this time to Beran. "Father, could I have the forenoon off work? It's important. I promise to make it up in the afternoon. I won't disappoint you."

Duilin wondered what was so important for her brother to skip work. Beran, after a long gaze into his son's face, nodded. "But you need to finish the dagger today. Gamhold is waiting for it." He said, and his son enthusiastically nodded. "Of course, that I will do. I will bring Gamhold his dagger personally as soon as it's finished, with special regards." then, Beran agreed, and he finished his breakfast and left again for work. He was no man of many words.

As soon as the door shut behind Beran, Duilin asked nosily: "Since when do you take off time from work? What is so important?" Daerol, still chewing and then swallowing on his last bit of porridge, gave her a long glance yet again. "You are." And with that, he stood up and put the bowl near the washing area.

[duilin]

"What do you mean, I am?" asked Duilin with a frown while moving all other wooden bowls and the spoons over to the sink to wash them. She was not looking at Daerol, who was standing behind her now. She did not understand what could be so serious for him to take time off work. "There's nothing wrong with me."

Daerol's left hand rested against the backrest of one of the chairs, and he was watching her intently. "I am speaking about yesterday night. And about the past ten years which we have spent spinning in circles, over and over again." He began, apparently preparing for a longer speech. "Father has shut himself off, and you needed to follow his example - but you did that poorly. You forgot that I know you too well! That I know you inside out. Yet, you leave me out when it comes to mother and Galwion! Why? Why, Duilin? Why can't you speak to me about it?"

There he stood, breathing very heavily, and clutching the chair with all might, as if he would fall would he let go of it.

Duilin stopped in her tracks, one wooden bowl still in her hand. For several moments she knew not how to reply. She would have been lying, saying she had not very well known that one day, Daerol finally would have had enough of this silence and secrecy about this one topic, and that he would have confronted her directly. It was just as he had said: They both knew each other too well. They were too close not to know how the other felt. Over the years, Duilin just had tried to convince herself she could keep her troubles from him just in this one aspect. Apparently, she had been wrong, and it did not surprise her. Now that this moment finally had come, she was unprepared.

She reacted evasively. Evasion, though, usually was not Duilin's manner. Duilin was an open girl, speaking her mind very freely. But speaking of Galwion, and coming closer to the very touchy subject of her mother leaving them - It was Duilin's defensive mechanism to turn to evasive methods. "I... I have so much to do today, Daerol. Can we not speak about this at a later time?" She asked, already knowing the answer. She put the bowl aside and turned to face him, pleading him not to confront her in this moment, letting her prepare a little more for this conversation.

He didn't give her the time, though. A fist slammed onto the table they had just eaten on. "No, Duilin!" And Daerol surprised himself with this outburst. Duilin jumped, stared at her brother and swallowed hard. She couldn't deny that now she was a little scared of him. Usualy, he was calm, sensitive and collected. Daerol never before had raised his voice against her, or against anyone else before. He usually only spoke when he had well thought of his words. but now, it was frustration speaking out of him, and he was shaking slightly.

"No." He repeated, more calmly now, and he stepped towards his sister, taking her hand in his. "As I said, it is important. I want to finish this topic, for now and for always. I don't want to hear their names anymore, see their faces in imagination, and keep up hope for them to return. It's been over ten years! I don't want it to be mentioned anymore!"

Well, now Daerol had said something Duilin had not known before. Something he probably did not even realize he had said in between the lines, but Duilin understood it now. While Duilin held up her hopes, no, while she was convinced that Galwion, and probably her mother, too, would return to them one day, Daerol did not want them to return. He wanted peace, and the only way he felt to accomplish this goal was by forgetting about the two. While Duilin held on fast on the memories of her brother, Daerol inwardly cursed them, suppressed them and forced himself to forget. And Duilin realized even more. Where her brother was so convinced that talking could colve problems, he had not been able to talk about this one, because neither Duilin nor Beran wanted to listen.

So, again after several seconds of silence and just looking into each other's eyes, duilin spoke again. "Alright." She said. "Let's talk about it, only this once. Let's sit down, or let's find a peaceful place -" Duilin considered their father's hammering and thought it too loud "- and let's talk there. We could take a ride..."

[duilin]

“A ride does sound good.“ Daerol said, his voice now calm and low. Duilin thought she knew that now, Daerol regretted his burst out, and therefore acted so sheepishly, subdued. So therefore, she put even more energy into making it right for him. She did not want to see him unhappy, and if it was so important to him to talk this topic out, one time and never again, she would do so.

So, the more eager now she said: ”Alright, a ride then!” And she smiled at him brightly, hoping that her overly large smile would bring him to smile as well. It didn’t. All she got was a small jerk at the edges of his lips. ”Then, let’s pack a few snacks… two apples, some bread and cheese, perhaps?” And while talking, she already was on the way to begin packing. She fetched a loaf of bread, a little bit of cheese, and the two apples, put them into a small bundle and wrapped it up so that they could easily transport it. Then, Duilin turned around to find Daerol still standing in the same spot, not having moved a bit, but he was watching her.

”Come on, brother dear! Saddle the horses for us!” She told him, took his arm and pulled him out into the sunshine. ”And before we go, we need to feed the chickens. Otherwise they won’t bestow us eggs tomorrow.” She tried to joke, but still it was in vain, for no smile would come on Daerol’s lips. And while she threw the chickens some grains, he saddled the two horses without a word.

---

It was a long ride they took. It seemed to be even longer than it actually was, for they spoke no word to each other. Slowly, they rid into the direction of the Entwash. First, they crossed the few streets of the village, and then they rode cross-country, over the brownish grass that was so typical for Rohan. A rough wind blew and whipped both their hair about. It was spring, almost still winter, and therefore they had taken their warm mantles with them, made out of fur and thick wool. Duilin froze and shivered, and covered herself in the mantle after only a short time of riding.

Then, after half an hour’s ride – a slow ride, though – they reached the river’s shore. There they paused, staring into the water, again without exchanging words. Duilin pressed her lips together. She was a little in unrest, finally wanting Daerol to begin talking. After all, he had wanted to talk, so it should be him to begin their talk. She knew not what exactly it was he wanted to discuss. It frustrated her, but she did not show it. She also knew that Daerol sometimes needed the time to phrase words, and to prepare for a difficult talk.

Finally, Daerol dismounted his horse. He took it by the reins and stepped closer to the shore. ”Let us stay here. It’s nice here. Calm.” He told his sister. Duilin followed his example, and they bound their horses’ reins to the nearest tree. Daerol now had the lead. He sat down, and Duilin sat down beside him. He pulled his knees up to his chest, and she moved a little closer to him, and not only because of the chilly wind.

[duilin]

Again there was a terribly long silence. Duilin and Daerol both looked out onto the water flowing by. That calm whooshing of the waves meeting with the shoreline made that quietness between them comfortable. Without knowing it, both of them shared the same thoughts: The Entwash, the greatest rivers of Rohan, rushed past them, into the East - to Gondor, where he flowed into the Anduin. Gondor, again, was closely connected to thoughts about Eleneth and Galwion. So while neither Duilin nor Daerol found words to communicate their thoughts and feelings to each other, or neither of them knew how to find the words to begin, they had come very close to just that now.

”I wish they wouldn’t exist.”

[/colour] Daerol broke the silence. Duilin jerked a little, after all this time of quiet not being prepared for words spoken so suddenly. And she frowned, too, for those words troubled her. She did wish for them to exist, even if missing them was tough and hurtful. ”I wish they wouldn’t exist, so we could not miss them. And think about them so often. And keep up the hope for them to return. I just want that to stop.”[/colour] It seemed as if those words burst out of Daerol. He had never said anything even close to meaning this, so he must have suppressed those thoughts, and now they burst forward like water from a broken dam.

Duilin put a hand onto his left shoulder and rubbed it lightly, in circles. She did not speak yet, for she did not know what to say. And she felt that he was not finished yet, anyways. ”And I feel guilty about thinking that way. I shouldn’t! I ought to miss them, like you do. But I can’t help it. They left and caused us pain and I just wish we could put this behind us, finally.”[/colour] Now his voice seemed a little broken, as if clouded by swallowed tears and frustration. It was that frustration, Duilin assumed, that caused him to pick up a stone and throw it into the water, harshly.

Duilin finally understood. For years she had thought Daerol felt just like her, or how she pretended to feel, missing their mother and brother. She never had realized, not until today, that he had turned from missing them to holding anger against them, burdening them with blame, while at the same time he felt he did them wrong. Duilin took a deep breath. There lay something in his words that mirrored her own feelings. She had never admitted it to anybody, feeling just the same guilt as Daerol did now. But she felt now that he ought to know it, to relieve at least a little of that guilt, and to make him feel not as alone and secluded.

”I understand that.”[/colour] She told him, never stopping to rub his shoulder. She struggled to find the words. ”I… Daerol, you’re not alone there. I don’t feel so very different. I mean…”[/colour] She sighed. Her hands were getting sweaty now, so she folded them in her lap now. ”I mean, I miss Galwion. I would like to know if he is alright, and if he is happy, and what he has grown up to be.”[/colour] As far, this was not difficult to admit. It was obvious she missed her eldest brother. What Daerol did not know about, though, was the deep grudge Duilin held against their mother. And to phrase this into words made Duilin’s speech get stuck from time to time again.

”I do, however, not miss… not miss our mother.”[/colour] There. She had spoken it out. Now she simply needed to explain and hope for Daerol to understand. ”She… I mean, Galwion was only twelve at that time! And she took him away, carried him off to anywhere, separated us. Left without reason. Broke father’s heart!”[/colour] Duilin was tensing up now, tears forming in her eyes. ”That was such an unfair thing of her to do!”[/colour] She broke out, leaning closer to Daerol now, who wrapped his left arm around her. ”Yes, it was.”[/colour] He murmured, now rubbing her shoulder in return. [/size][/blockquote]