paradisalogs | omne quod dulce est cito satiat

Entry tags:

omne quod dulce est cito satiat

Who: EVERYONE!
When: Dec. 15
Where: Ballroom!
What: Borgia-Mills ~~Saturnalia~~ party, basically, that party!

The garlands and wreaths of leaves decorating the ballroom sure look similar. Almost Christmas trees. Pagan origins for an otherwise religious holiday. This occasion has no purpose, however, aside from merriment, freedom and lots and lots of eating!

The cooks Henry gathered are welcome to place their creations on a long table set to one side, while most of the ballroom is left clear for dancing of any form. Most of the sofas have been pushed against the walls as refuge for tired feet. The wine flows freely, with uncountable goblets here and there!

Oh, one more thing, beware the nutcrackers.

[ ooc; make your own threads, there are no rules except for go wild! ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"You are not." She actually quite enjoys this. So many people are afraid to touch her, as if she's made of glass and might shatter at the slightest touch. "And I am glad to teach what I may. Yet there are some lessons best learned through experience."

Lucrezia's smile drops a little at that last phrase. She has heard that before and during less pleasant circumstances. "Which lessons require experience, Galadriel? Are they only the ones that bring pain?"

"Not all." Her other hand reaches up to brush Lucrezia's cheek. "Love, for instance. I may tell you a great deal, but it is nothing compared to experience."

Lucrezia leans into her hand. "I have loved, I think, and lost, yet I fail to grasp what lesson that serves than to deter me."

"It has taught you what a great power love may be, has it not? The source of our greatest pains and our greatest pleasures."

"It has only taught me to keep it at bay if I have any wish left to go on." She is bitter, yes, and makes no effort to hide it.

"Oh, dear one." Her hand drops back down to her side. "Would that I could heal the wounds of your heart."

"Would you?" Lucrezia takes that hand instead, not quite wanting to let go of the physical comfort. "Was there a reason, Galadriel, a lesson worth my pain that you would be wise not to take from me?"

"I think that each of us must take what lessons he can from his pain. I may give reasons, lessons that I wish you to take to heart, but if you do not feel the truth of them for yourself what meaning is there?"

Hearing something, even agreeing with it rationally, is not the same thing as understanding it.

"But, perhaps, I would wish for you to learn to treasure that which is fleeting while it is within your grasp." It's a very Elven lesson, at that.

Lucrezia hazards that Galadriel has seen far more grief than she, than she can even imagine, but one sees one's own problems as greatest.

"To live in the moment, my Radiant One, is that advisable?"

Galadriel has seen far more grief, but also far more joy. It is the nature of a long life- a burden and a gift.

"I would not advise living solely in the moment. It is always wise to look to the future. Yet I would not allow the fear of future loss to prevent you from enjoying what treasures you have in the present."

"But do you not fear the inevitable?" Though she wonders now how much of that Galadriel would understand, things like death touches her not. "Everything ends, pleasures and treasures fade. Kings die and empires fall."

"And I have watched them do so. I hold with in my memory many precious things that once were but are no more. The partings grieve me and they always shall, but I take the bitter with the sweet. For what is my choice?

This place is unnatural; it is an exception. But were things as they ought to be, I could befriend very few here without bringing grief upon myself. Even you, my dear one. I would watch you grow old before my eyes and I would see you pass from this world. And yet to not know you would be another sort of pain."

They say elves do not age, but that's not precisely true. It's subtle; something that can be seen in the eyes- a weariness and a melancholy that Galadriel usually tries to hide. Speaking with Lucrezia now, it becomes a little more evident.

Lucrezia notices it, something she can't quite fathom hiding behind Galadriel's eyes, though she thinks it has something to do with loss and sadness. Her complaints must seem small to the things the elf has seen in her long life. How can she ever begin to understand?

She takes her hand to kiss her knuckles instead, each of them. "I would not have you grieve even if you did watch me age. You will see, I would be the happiest still when I am with you."

How can she continue to look melancholy at that? She chuckles lightly and leans forward to kiss Lucrezia's forehead.

"You flatter me still, I think, but it is sweet of you."

"Have we not agreed that it isn't flattery if it is true?" said with the cheekiest smile on her face. Lucrezia has a mind that what she said isn't true though, it hardly seems like there is anyway but down from here.

"Am I still sweet to you?" She so does want to know.

"Come now, surely you will find more joy than the company of an old woman." Or at least Galadriel earnestly hoped she would. Lucrezia should have more.

"Need you even ask? My opinion of you has not changed."

"Yet you cannot promise me that it will never change," and it would not be fair to ask that of her, either. It isn't only sadness that has seen her lose the wings on her feet. There is also blood on her hands, murder in her thoughts. Lucrezia wonders how much Galadriel knows.

"And I was told by an old man that I should not seek my happiness in men. Would you agree?"

"No, I cannot- nor can you promise that your opinion of me shall never change."

What Galadriel knows, what Galadriel guesses- it's always difficult to say and Lucrezia certainly isn't the first to wonder, nor will she be the last. But it serves Galadriel's purposes to leave people wondering, so no answers will come from her.

"I would. You must first be content in yourself before you seek to share your heart with another."

Which is why only family lasts in the end, and she even has her doubts about that.

"I am content in myself," as far as she knows. Though there is need there for companionship and protection that drives her to seek out men to beguile. Yes, beguile is a word she likes. "Perhaps it is safer to share my heart only with those I know would never leave me." Could never.

"Safer, perhaps. Yet there is little reward without risk."

"Then I will love again," she looks up with a bright smile like a challenge. "But only those who I know will never pass away."

She laughs a little. "You are impossible, my dear. Little wonder I enjoy your company so." Many had said the same of her, after all.

Lucrezia grins. She likes being liked, thrives on it. "And I hope to offer you my company for a long time yet. I should not like to leave this place."

Galadriel's smile falters a little, but only for a moment. "Then I will hope you will not be forced to do so."

But she still wants to leave-has to leave, to her way of thinking.

(no subject)

heloise - 2013-01-12 12:38 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

inafadingcrown - 2013-01-13 04:30 (UTC) - Expand

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only