#aynur

Another memory, but not from my childhood

As my grandmother used to say, "First love passes when the guy decides to cut his hair." And I remembered a moment with my brother and his girlfriend

(To understand the dialogue: I am Aynur, Ijichi is my brother, and Naoya is my brother's girlfriend)

Ijichi:😐

Naoya:😭

Aynur:What are you guys doing here-....Oh my God.

Naoya:HE CUT HIS HAIR!

Ijichi:Come on. It's a normal haircut.

Aynur:*touched his hair* You look like a hedgehog.

Naoya: WHY DID YOU CUT YOUR HAIR😭

Ijichi: It's a normal haircut!

Aynur:Tell me honestly, did grandfather (in this case, Usami or Akihiro) cut your hair?

I fell in love with her.

Curufin: But what if their refusal delays us and complicates our task? Perhaps we should consider other options to speed up the process?

Fëanor: We could learn to build ships ourselves. Let Arafínwë try to negotiate with Olwë, and someone else should attempt to approach the sea Maia.

Curufin: That’s reasonable. However, learning to build ships will require time and resources that we might be limited in. Do you think we can find the right teachers among the sea Maia? And what if our attempts to negotiate with them fail?

Fëanor: I believe that if we show patience and determination, we can persuade the sea Maia to help us. As for the training, we must mobilize our forces and resources to expedite the process. Even if negotiations with Olwë fail, we can always find other ways. The main thing is that we must act decisively and not let our efforts be in vain.

Sea Maia: I see that your intentions are serious, and your drive to build ships is respectful. We Maia have the knowledge that can help you, but it requires mutual respect and trust. We are willing to consider your proposal, but first, we need to understand what goal you are pursuing and how our cooperation can be beneficial for both sides. Why are you so determined to build new ships?

Fëanor: Morgoth killed our king Finwë.

Sea Maia: I understand your pain and anger, but this also requires deep wisdom in your actions. Your goal is clear, and the loss of King Finwë is a tragedy that demands a response. We are willing to discuss possible cooperation, but first, we need to ensure that your intentions will not threaten our stability and the peace we strive to maintain. If you can convince us of your honesty and noble intentions, we will consider providing assistance in building ships.

Fëanor: Our intentions are solely directed at protecting our people and restoring justice. We are prepared to offer you assurances that our cooperation will be based on mutual respect and benefit. We understand the importance of peace and stability and strive to ensure that our aid does not disrupt the harmony you maintain. Let us discuss the details and find a mutual solution that benefits everyone.

Sea Maia: After your explanation, we are willing to offer help. We will provide the knowledge and resources needed for building ships, on the condition that you will abide by our agreements and respect our traditions. Our masters can train your smiths and builders so you can create the ships you need. In return, we expect you to maintain peace and not undertake actions that could threaten our people.

Fëanor: Your agreement and support mean a lot to us. We will respect all conditions and ensure that our cooperation is based on mutual benefit and respect. We will prepare our people for training soon and begin working on the ships. Thank you for your help and understanding.

Fëanor: We have begun training our smiths and builders. Our people are working hard to master new skills and knowledge. I see that progress is being made, and soon our ships will be ready. It is a laborious process, but we will not give up and will do everything possible to achieve our goal.

Curufin: How is the training going? What is the reaction of our masters to the new methods and materials? Are there any difficulties we should consider to speed up the process?

Who: Danyell Dwynwen, Danny Harold (mentioned, belongs to @thevoilinauttheory​); NPCs: Aynur, lodging-house proprietor

What: Danny is missing. Danyell holds on. 

Where: The Black Shroud (various)

When: During the sennight after Danny’s disappearance, shortly after Heavensturn. (Concurrent with “Roses” by @thevoilinauttheory​ )

Content:  fire (aftermath), significant angst, minor injury/pain, passive suicidal ideation if you squint

Written for MAHI prompt word MURMUR

Danyell was running in circles - sun following sleepless night following frostbitten sun. 

For almost half a sennight, Danny had been missing. His apartment was locked and dark, with no response to Danyell's knocking any of the times he had tried. 

A singed scrap of soft green wool sat in Danyell's satchel - mud-stained and smelling of burnt hair. After two suns, he had forced himself to bundle it away in a handkerchief in hopes of muffling the keening worry (the chill of false certainty) that shot through him every time he touched it.

In taverns and inns he picked out tunes from a corner, fingers moving automatically over the strings while he strained his ears to catch the murmured shreds of news, and hope, and rumor. 

"Tangled with a Hearer, I heard."

"Nbolo was sayin' it was a thaumaturge."

"I bet the Wailers just got tired of his shite."

"Does it matter? As long as he's gone for good."

Danyell's heart sank with every clink of mug against tankard to celebrate the unsteady peace. 

☙❄❧

His visits to the northern Hedgetree grew more frequent, but still were fruitless. Before, a few words to the trees would summon Danny within bells, and when those failed, music could still reach through the haze. Now, his pleas and questions seemed to be swallowed by dead air: neither Danny nor the Wood responded, the silence growing like a stormcloud on the horizon. 

So Danyell played and sang; he traveled, and he listened. At night, he lay awake. There was no greenery twining about him, no ticklish flowers, no riot of mint and perfume. All was entirely ordinary - and entirely excruciating. The bells ran together until they moved in one glacial, inexorable mass.

☙❄❧

On the fourth sun, his voice began to fail him. 

☙❄❧

On the fifth, his boot split a seam between Gridania and Fallgourd, and he limped his way to the lodging-house. The proprietor, Mistress Aynur, lent him her needle and waxed thread without comment or question, though he avoided meeting her gaze. 

He sat in the middle of the bed, shivering despite the roaring fire as he tried to push the needle through the damp leather. His hands were shaking. 

On the last stitch, the pliers slipped. The jaws pinched the webbing of his thumb, and the caught skin throbbed, searing. 

He grit his teeth to force down a scream. The thin shell of his control was creaking, close to cracking under the weight. Hold on. Hold on.  With his jaw clenched and lips trembling, he finished the knot and pulled his boot back on.

When he pushed out the door again, Aynur's gaze prickled between his shoulderblades. He fled from her silent concern into the midwinter chill. 

Dead leaves crunched underfoot as he hurried toward the Hedgetree, arms tucked around himself and head ducked against the wind. The heat of his frustration drained away, leaving a growing hollow in his chest. 

The earth around the tree bore the evidence of his recent visits: restless footprints, tracking back and forth in the mud beneath the bare-branched canopy. 

Danyell's eyes fell closed with a shuddering sigh as he leaned into the trunk, feeling its carved pattern press into his forehead. 

Please. 

The word had been swirling in his head since he had first laid eyes on the embers of the torched cart, scorched flowers withered around its broken wheels -- since he had knelt and found a strip of familiar fabric trodden into the mud. 

"Please," he whispered, chapped lips brushing against the bark. His hands came up, hovering, closed into trembling fists. "Please, let him be safe." 

Five suns, and no word. 

Five suns, and no answer.

Please.

Danyell sank to his knees, clutching the base of the Hedgetree in supplication. Five suns of sickening dread finally threatened to swallow him.

If you're listening, he prayed, his eyes welling, please. 

Please, take me to him. 

Please, he prayed, all hope collapsing. Take me with him.