Written for the Gratitude Challenge for November 2014, which asked for a drabble or multiple drabble (up to a triple drabble) on the subject of somebody being grateful or ungrateful.
This is actually a quadruple drabble (4 x 100 words according to MS Word), but gratitude figures in all four of the linked drabbles.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Erien is an OFC and has previously featured in my stories "The Chief in a Village" and "Naurthoniel".
Erien sighed as she unlocked the door, grateful to be home. In the hall, she kicked off her walking-shoes and pulled on warm slippers. Already, an imperious miaow had notified her that the resident cat, Tevildo the Seventh, had registered her arrival and demanded immediate food and attention. Soon he was winding around her legs, reinforcing his demands.
‘I hear you,’ she said and smiled. However insistent, a grown, healthy feline was still less wearing to take care of than an energetic toddler.
Just a little broth, she thought, and then a nice rest in a chair by the fire...
She loved Ereinion. She had taken over his care at the times when he couldn’t be with Fingon quite voluntarily and she knew, already, that in the future she would look back on that decision with undiminished gratitude.
But Ereinion wasn’t merely a daring and imaginative boy, he was a Finwean. Who would have thought that would become obvious in a child so young? Like Fingon—always a joy initially, but so hard to keep up with—all of the House of Finwe burned a shade too brightly.
And so, when evening came, Erien was glad she could go home.
Tonight, she had thought she would have to stay longer. Prince Maedhros had only just arrived; Fingon would wish to spend this evening with his friend. Instead, he had appeared in Ereinion’s rooms just as Erien was persuading Ereinion to go to bed—with Maedhros in tow.
Ereinion seized his chance. ‘Bedtime story?’
‘If you’re good!’ Fingon promised.
In no time, Ereinion was in bed in his nightclothes. Fingon looked across at Maedhros.
‘You told Father about ungrateful First Cat,’ Ereinion said hopefully.
‘That one was especially for him,’ Maedhros answered. ‘But, listen, Ereinion, here’s a story just for you…’
Renowned war-leaders of the House of Finwe sitting, one to the left, one to the right, on the edge of the bed of a child, telling bedtime stories...
Erien, curled up now at home by the fire, Tevildo purring on her lap, smiled again. But, abruptly, her mood sobered. Caring for Ereinion had thawed parts of her that had been frozen so long she had no longer been aware of it, since the Crossing of the Ice; she was thankful for that.
But we were promised songs, not survival. And I fear one day there will be songs about Gil-galad…
Chapter End Notes:
"The Chief of a Village" and "Naurthoniel" are posted on SWG and AO3.
The ficlet also alludes to an event in my ficlet "Bed-time Story".