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#11 |
Everlasting Whiteness
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A nod was all Astilwen received in answer to her question, but it did look as though a weight had been lifted from Tilionwen's shoulders, so she decided not to push it. The other woman sat quietly for a moment, clutching the handkerchief in her hands as she seemed to come to some kind of decision. She let out a long breath and then began to speak.
"You asked previously if my name is Elvish. Well, it is. But it's not my real name...some people just gave it to me." Wondering where this was heading Astilwen turned further towards Tilionwen and made herself comfortable, as it looked as though this tale might take a while. She wasn't sure why the woman had chosen her to confide in, a complete stranger, but she still wanted to help and this admission had certainly caught her interest. "What is your real name? And why was it changed?" There were so many more questions that she wanted to ask, who had given her this name and why she had kept it, but she had seen how fragile Tilionwen was, and didn't want to upset her again. Keeping her curiosity to herself, she waited to see if she would get an answer.
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“If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.” |
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