"But I Swear By This Song..."
Oct. 10th, 2007 11:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
psalm_onethirtyoneHappy belated birthday, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
eegatland! ^_^ Firstly, because you like the song, here is a bad-quality recording of me trying to pretend I can sing Sweet Sir Galahad. :)
And secondly, Telemakos fic, from A Coalition of Lions (don't hate me!):
In the Broad Ways I Will Seek Him Whom My Soul Loveth
The journey up the cliff was thrilling and sickening at the same time. Telemakos felt his stomach moving anxiously, and held tighter to the sentinel to whom he was bound. The top was not so far away, it was not such a long climb, and he would be there soon, absolutely, and he would carry Goewin's message to Ella Asbeha, and he would do it right, exactly right, and he was not afraid of that part, but he did not want to look down at Goewin's small shape below him. The sentinel laughed softly, less unsure now that Goewin was not speaking to him.
"Hold tight, salt-top."
Telemakos glowered and didn't move.
At the top the sentinel climbed onto the ledge and undid the belt, letting Telemakos slide down onto solid ground. Resolutely he did not look behind him, but went through the stone portal and up the stone stairs, listening to his heart beat with his footsteps, thup thup thup, soft and quick. After the stairs--and he took the stairs slowly, behind the sentinel, walking as respectfully and with as much dignity as was expected of a messenger to the emperor--after the stairs there was the stone city, houses and walls and a tall church. Telemakos looked at all of it quietly.
There were a few clouds lying low, and he gazed at them thoughtfully, but even if he were not on a serious task, they did not look low enough to touch. He wondered what a cloud felt like. Here to one side was a little lake, a very small one, full of smudged water for drinking; and there were goats, absolutely he smelled goats, and looked around for them, caught sight of a few to one side, moving about. A little herd. There were herb gardens, and men working in them. One of them came away from the others and stopped the sentinel, speaking softly. The sentinel nodded and left them.
The monk turned to Telemakos. "You're here to see the lord of the land, little one?"
"Yes, sir," he said.
"I'll take you to him. But he doesn't speak, remember that, you may tell him what you want and surely he will answer you, but he doesn't speak, and hasn't since he came."
Telemakos wondered, breathlessly: Why not? Why does the emperor not speak? But it was a solemn occasion, and he had come this far with no trouble, and he thought to ask no questions or do anything which might make take longer before he saw Ella Asbeha. So he nodded and followed.
The monk led him to a little house set apart from the others, a smaller one, a rougher one. Is this where the emperor lives? he thought, for a fleeting moment, and then reasoned: No, it's where he's meeting me. After all, I'm not important. I'm a messenger.
He could see the figure within. The monk stopped outside and spoke softly to him--the monk didn't seem to speak any way but softly, and Telemakos felt like a lion pricking its ears to catch a sound on the wind.
"In there, little one. Go now. He'll see you."
Telemakos ducked in and threw himself down at once, head to the floor. "Highness! Goewin, Goewin, the princess of Britain, is here to see you, Goewin, the daughter of Artos the dragon, the King of Britain!" The stone floor cool was cool against his face. He could see nothing, but he could hear the breathing.
Suddenly a hand took hold of his hair. It was a gentle hand, but it held hold of him and drew him up so that he was not looking at the floor any more: he was looking at the man in the house, who was absolutely not the emperor, absolutely not Ella Asbeha, a man whose hair was as fair as his was, whose face was as pale as Goewin's. The man's eyes were grey and blue like smoke, and he watched Telemakos' face without saying anything.
He thought, perhaps, it was the man's surprise at seeing his hair that made him look so long, or perhaps it was a test--but he was ready for a test, he was Telemakos Meder, a bold messenger set on a task for a princess, and he made his face solemn and respectful and did not make any sign it hurt to have his hair held like that, in the man's strong, scarred hand.
Finally the man let him go. The man was shaking a very very tiny bit, looking a very small bit uncertain, and Telemakos wondered if he had failed the test, but he did not think he had.
He thought of speaking again, but the man stood up and took his hand, and Telemakos followed. They walked together through the city again, past the lake and the goats--he saw them out of the corner of his eye--and the gardens, back to the stairs, which they went down slowly. The man was very careful of him. He knew he wouldn't fall, but the man didn't seem to realise it--he kept putting his hands out on Telemakos' shoulders to steady him, and offering his hands to be held, and Telemakos did, out of respect, but absolutely not from necessity. The man didn't speak at all.
At the edge of the cliff, Telemakos looked over and saw Goewin and his mother, very tiny below, and shut his eyes tightly. The man put his arms around him for a moment and held him. They didn't know each other, Telemakos knew, because he would remember if he had ever seen anyone who looked so much like him, but it still felt right, so for a long, silent moment he kept his eyes shut and leaned his cheek against the man's stomach, which was the highest he went.
Then the man crouched down beside him and Telemakos climbed onto his back, wrapping his legs around the man's waist and his arms around his shoulders, and the sentinel bound them together. The man went to the edge and began to climb down.
When they reached the bottom, his mother untied him, and he sat down, trying to catch the craziness in his head from the climb. The man knelt beside him. Telemakos looked up and smiled for a moment, though he didn't meet the man's eyes. Telemakos was holding the short grass in his fists, like an anchor to the ground, and the man watched him closely and tenderly for what seemed like a long, good time.
Then there was a sound like a hurt thing, and Telemakos looked away and saw at once that his mother was crying, and Goewin was very, very pale, much paler than usual, and she began to shout at the man, so furiously that Telemakos couldn't make out her words. The man held tight to him and wouldn't let him go to his mother. Goewin was still shouting, as if she expected answers, and Telemakos said,--
"He doesn't talk. The monks said he has not spoken a word since he came to them," and looked around at the man to see him wiping his eyes, and then heard his mother say,--
"Ras Meder?"
Telemakos stopped breathing for a moment, and then breathed again, and then, when his father held a hand to him, almost as though he didn't expect Telemakos to take it, he threw himself forward and buried his face in his father's shamma, holding, holding, holding. Ras Meder put his face in Telemakos' hair, he could feel it.
"Is it true?" he asked.
"Yes, love," his mother said, a whisper much softer than the monk's.
Goewin said, "Telemakos, what happened? What happened when you went to find Caleb?"
"The monks brought me to Ras Meder," he said, holding tighter. His father, his father, his father who hunted lions and had left a skin in the house, so that Telemakos would always remember what he had done. He felt wild and strange.
"But I told them to take you to the emperor. I said--"
"You said lord of the land."
"Meder," Goewin said. "Medraut. Oh, my brother, you must think we came here looking for you. But we came looking for the emperor Caleb, the negusa nagast Ella Asbeha. We did not know you were here."
He felt his father nod. He could feel it just by touching Ras Meder.
"Come with us to our shelter," said Goewin, "and we'll explain."
For a moment Telemakos thought Ras Meder would not, that he would sit there for-ever holding him, but then he sighed and let go, and Telemakos' mother helped him get up and held his hands, and kissed them.
"Come, Telemakos," she said. "Lead on."
For a moment Telemakos thought he would not, either. Then, suddenly, he caught hold of his father's hand and kissed it, pressed his forehead to it, and then he let go, snatched a look at his father's face. Ras Meder's eyes--he looked, for a fleeting second, like a bird there and gone--were just like smoke, just like smoke, and his hair was just like Telemakos'. That was where it had come from. White-gold like salt.
He ran ahead. He was the guide, and he knew his father was following him now.
eegatland! ^_^ Firstly, because you like the song, here is a bad-quality recording of me trying to pretend I can sing Sweet Sir Galahad. :)And secondly, Telemakos fic, from A Coalition of Lions (don't hate me!):
In the Broad Ways I Will Seek Him Whom My Soul Loveth
The journey up the cliff was thrilling and sickening at the same time. Telemakos felt his stomach moving anxiously, and held tighter to the sentinel to whom he was bound. The top was not so far away, it was not such a long climb, and he would be there soon, absolutely, and he would carry Goewin's message to Ella Asbeha, and he would do it right, exactly right, and he was not afraid of that part, but he did not want to look down at Goewin's small shape below him. The sentinel laughed softly, less unsure now that Goewin was not speaking to him.
"Hold tight, salt-top."
Telemakos glowered and didn't move.
At the top the sentinel climbed onto the ledge and undid the belt, letting Telemakos slide down onto solid ground. Resolutely he did not look behind him, but went through the stone portal and up the stone stairs, listening to his heart beat with his footsteps, thup thup thup, soft and quick. After the stairs--and he took the stairs slowly, behind the sentinel, walking as respectfully and with as much dignity as was expected of a messenger to the emperor--after the stairs there was the stone city, houses and walls and a tall church. Telemakos looked at all of it quietly.
There were a few clouds lying low, and he gazed at them thoughtfully, but even if he were not on a serious task, they did not look low enough to touch. He wondered what a cloud felt like. Here to one side was a little lake, a very small one, full of smudged water for drinking; and there were goats, absolutely he smelled goats, and looked around for them, caught sight of a few to one side, moving about. A little herd. There were herb gardens, and men working in them. One of them came away from the others and stopped the sentinel, speaking softly. The sentinel nodded and left them.
The monk turned to Telemakos. "You're here to see the lord of the land, little one?"
"Yes, sir," he said.
"I'll take you to him. But he doesn't speak, remember that, you may tell him what you want and surely he will answer you, but he doesn't speak, and hasn't since he came."
Telemakos wondered, breathlessly: Why not? Why does the emperor not speak? But it was a solemn occasion, and he had come this far with no trouble, and he thought to ask no questions or do anything which might make take longer before he saw Ella Asbeha. So he nodded and followed.
The monk led him to a little house set apart from the others, a smaller one, a rougher one. Is this where the emperor lives? he thought, for a fleeting moment, and then reasoned: No, it's where he's meeting me. After all, I'm not important. I'm a messenger.
He could see the figure within. The monk stopped outside and spoke softly to him--the monk didn't seem to speak any way but softly, and Telemakos felt like a lion pricking its ears to catch a sound on the wind.
"In there, little one. Go now. He'll see you."
Telemakos ducked in and threw himself down at once, head to the floor. "Highness! Goewin, Goewin, the princess of Britain, is here to see you, Goewin, the daughter of Artos the dragon, the King of Britain!" The stone floor cool was cool against his face. He could see nothing, but he could hear the breathing.
Suddenly a hand took hold of his hair. It was a gentle hand, but it held hold of him and drew him up so that he was not looking at the floor any more: he was looking at the man in the house, who was absolutely not the emperor, absolutely not Ella Asbeha, a man whose hair was as fair as his was, whose face was as pale as Goewin's. The man's eyes were grey and blue like smoke, and he watched Telemakos' face without saying anything.
He thought, perhaps, it was the man's surprise at seeing his hair that made him look so long, or perhaps it was a test--but he was ready for a test, he was Telemakos Meder, a bold messenger set on a task for a princess, and he made his face solemn and respectful and did not make any sign it hurt to have his hair held like that, in the man's strong, scarred hand.
Finally the man let him go. The man was shaking a very very tiny bit, looking a very small bit uncertain, and Telemakos wondered if he had failed the test, but he did not think he had.
He thought of speaking again, but the man stood up and took his hand, and Telemakos followed. They walked together through the city again, past the lake and the goats--he saw them out of the corner of his eye--and the gardens, back to the stairs, which they went down slowly. The man was very careful of him. He knew he wouldn't fall, but the man didn't seem to realise it--he kept putting his hands out on Telemakos' shoulders to steady him, and offering his hands to be held, and Telemakos did, out of respect, but absolutely not from necessity. The man didn't speak at all.
At the edge of the cliff, Telemakos looked over and saw Goewin and his mother, very tiny below, and shut his eyes tightly. The man put his arms around him for a moment and held him. They didn't know each other, Telemakos knew, because he would remember if he had ever seen anyone who looked so much like him, but it still felt right, so for a long, silent moment he kept his eyes shut and leaned his cheek against the man's stomach, which was the highest he went.
Then the man crouched down beside him and Telemakos climbed onto his back, wrapping his legs around the man's waist and his arms around his shoulders, and the sentinel bound them together. The man went to the edge and began to climb down.
When they reached the bottom, his mother untied him, and he sat down, trying to catch the craziness in his head from the climb. The man knelt beside him. Telemakos looked up and smiled for a moment, though he didn't meet the man's eyes. Telemakos was holding the short grass in his fists, like an anchor to the ground, and the man watched him closely and tenderly for what seemed like a long, good time.
Then there was a sound like a hurt thing, and Telemakos looked away and saw at once that his mother was crying, and Goewin was very, very pale, much paler than usual, and she began to shout at the man, so furiously that Telemakos couldn't make out her words. The man held tight to him and wouldn't let him go to his mother. Goewin was still shouting, as if she expected answers, and Telemakos said,--
"He doesn't talk. The monks said he has not spoken a word since he came to them," and looked around at the man to see him wiping his eyes, and then heard his mother say,--
"Ras Meder?"
Telemakos stopped breathing for a moment, and then breathed again, and then, when his father held a hand to him, almost as though he didn't expect Telemakos to take it, he threw himself forward and buried his face in his father's shamma, holding, holding, holding. Ras Meder put his face in Telemakos' hair, he could feel it.
"Is it true?" he asked.
"Yes, love," his mother said, a whisper much softer than the monk's.
Goewin said, "Telemakos, what happened? What happened when you went to find Caleb?"
"The monks brought me to Ras Meder," he said, holding tighter. His father, his father, his father who hunted lions and had left a skin in the house, so that Telemakos would always remember what he had done. He felt wild and strange.
"But I told them to take you to the emperor. I said--"
"You said lord of the land."
"Meder," Goewin said. "Medraut. Oh, my brother, you must think we came here looking for you. But we came looking for the emperor Caleb, the negusa nagast Ella Asbeha. We did not know you were here."
He felt his father nod. He could feel it just by touching Ras Meder.
"Come with us to our shelter," said Goewin, "and we'll explain."
For a moment Telemakos thought Ras Meder would not, that he would sit there for-ever holding him, but then he sighed and let go, and Telemakos' mother helped him get up and held his hands, and kissed them.
"Come, Telemakos," she said. "Lead on."
For a moment Telemakos thought he would not, either. Then, suddenly, he caught hold of his father's hand and kissed it, pressed his forehead to it, and then he let go, snatched a look at his father's face. Ras Meder's eyes--he looked, for a fleeting second, like a bird there and gone--were just like smoke, just like smoke, and his hair was just like Telemakos'. That was where it had come from. White-gold like salt.
He ran ahead. He was the guide, and he knew his father was following him now.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
best. birthday. present. EVER.
Date: 2007-10-11 09:10 am (UTC)THANK YOU! It is beautiful. [sniffs]
and you are very sweet to sing to me, as well. Sara says, "Wow, she's a great singer!"
Re: best. birthday. present. EVER.
Date: 2007-10-11 03:26 pm (UTC)Eeeeeeeeeble. ;___; thank you!
Re: best. birthday. present. EVER.
Date: 2007-10-11 07:44 pm (UTC)But I wish I would let myself be a bit more prolific and a little less demanding.
Anyway, thank you again. I really love it. xxx
Re: best. birthday. present. EVER.
Date: 2007-10-12 02:33 am (UTC)/random comment
Re: best. birthday. present. EVER.
Date: 2007-10-15 06:37 pm (UTC)Re: best. birthday. present. EVER.
Date: 2007-10-16 02:02 am (UTC)Re: best. birthday. present. EVER.
Date: 2007-10-16 05:46 pm (UTC)god, no wonder I'm so bitter and twisted.
Re: best. birthday. present. EVER.
Date: 2007-10-17 12:04 am (UTC)Re: best. birthday. present. EVER.
Date: 2007-10-12 08:10 pm (UTC)♥
I'm so glad you do. And--really astonished, really.
Re: best. birthday. present. EVER.
Date: 2007-10-15 06:38 pm (UTC)Re: best. birthday. present. EVER.
Date: 2007-10-16 01:32 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-10-11 09:58 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-10-12 08:08 pm (UTC)Yes. Yes, I am. *dies*
(no subject)
Date: 2007-10-12 08:18 pm (UTC)ahahahahahahaha
just kidding
(no subject)
Date: 2007-10-12 08:19 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-10-12 08:24 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-10-12 08:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-10-13 05:15 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-10-12 02:35 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-10-12 08:03 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-10-13 12:17 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-10-13 12:55 am (UTC)