Kaylee Arafinwiel's Book of Verses by Kaylee Arafinwiel

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Story Notes:

I wanted a separate home for my poems. MEFA 2012 is right around the corner and I want my MPTT page to be a bit more cleaned up. :) Also a temporary home for my drabbles and other bits that don't have a home yet.


Of Fathers and Sons  

Who knew a child could be so mischievous?
I did not just then. But his nobility --
That was ordained from birth. Well-loved,
This scion of Elmo's House, of the blood royal
By virtue of being Oropher's child. His only son.
I have never known a prouder father,  

Than Oropher, my kinsman, the anxious father

Awaiting news, was ready to do himself a mischief

"Oropher!" He flew from the council of Lindon's nobles
Cocooned in their meeting, to his beloved
Felith's room once released. This royal
heir, this lord of the Sindar, Celepharn's son  

 

Quickly adapted to having his own baby son.
And, more slowly, learned to be a father.
As his golden child grew to be a mischievous
Elfling, I saw him often; flashes of nobility
Shone from the little one's fea. Well-loved,
But not spoilt, though of the blood royal.  

 

Argil I called him when I saw him at the royal
Court, presented alongside the Noldorin sons
And daughters that Yule. Held by his proud father,
I vow I could already tell the babe would be a mischief.
It was in his blood, was it not? But so was his nobility
Argil, Thranduil, noble star, always and forever well-loved.  

 

I knew then, as I know now, that the elfling is well-loved
As he stands before the Greenwood's people, his people, in truth royalty.
Standing between his parents, he fidgets; Oropher nudges his son
And Thranduil blushes, casting his gaze aside, away from his father.
This circlet will come to weigh heavily on him, I know, yet mischief
Still lights his sapphire eyes, as he no doubt plans its demise. Nobility  

 

Will demand that he confess whatever he plans to do, he confess...nobility,
Which he has, but wishes he did not. Whatever the consequence, it is love
Behind the guarding and guiding he must and will endure. This royal
Life will weigh heavily on my kindred, but they endure; his parents for their son,
And Thranduil, as best he can, for his cousins, mother and beloved father.
I would be fooling myself, however, if I thought a circlet would end his mischief.  

 

I know that Thranduil and mischief will go together easier than Thranduil and noble

Duties, which the elfling will find dull, well-loved or not. My kin will not find royal
Life easy, and one day Thranduil, too, will have a son just like his father.




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