No philosophical arguments for your WIPpet this week. For the 10th day of June, I give you 10 paragraphs from EoD — plus one bonus paragraph just because. This will be your first look at Ferris, a new character that insisted I include him. He (thankfully) did not hire Berk’s agent, and so does not have his own POV. Unfortunately, that won’t save him from just a bit of torment. In this scene, however, he and Ciara are relaxing at the house of a friend. I did have a different scene picked out, but since I’ve been including some music in my posts of late, I decided this one was far more apropos. (Just a side note, Mercien and his son Engel are very minor characters. They’ve a bit role, nothing more.) And, again, this is very first draftish so go easy on me.
That evening after dinner Ferris finally wore Mercien down and convinced him to bring out his lute, and Ciara got to see a totally different side to the Lord of High House. The instrument transformed him from the chill, stiff lord into a passionate, animated man who — given his choice of songs and the emotion he poured into them — clearly loved his children and mourned both his wives — even the living one. He proved to be quite an excellent musician, with a rich voice. His youngest son, Engel, paired with him on several songs including a comical tune that had them all clapping along and laughing at Engel’s acting out of some of the lyrics.
“Turn about is fair play,” Mercien said after his fifth song, holding the lute out to Ferris.
“Ah, you should have let me go first, then,” Ferris said, trying to wave him off. “I’m not fit to follow your performance. Perhaps her ladyship –“
“Oh no!” Ciara threw up both hands, shaking her head. “I know nothing of the lute, and my singing is more likely to set the dogs howling and scare the horses out of the barn.”
“Come on, Ferris,” Engel said. “Do The Legend of Khonrah and I’ll join in on the chorus.”
“The Legend of Khonrah, with no time to practice? You’re mad, boy.”
But even as Ferris teased Engel, he picked up the lute and began moving his fingers across the strings, humming softly to himself.
“That’s not it,” Engel complained.
“Hush.” Mercien leaned back in his chair, a smile lingering on his lips. “He’s taking the long road.”
“Haven’t touched the strings in quite some time,” Ferris said absently, eyes half closed as though he needed to concentrate on his chording. “I need to find my way back.”
The room fell silent save for the crackling of the fire and the gentle tune lifting from beneath Ferris’s fingers. Ciara had never heard anything like it before. The music started quiet and halting, as though Ferris was searching for just the right song to play, but his voice drew all the notes together. He sang in Cearnease, barely loud enough to be heard, and though Ciara didn’t know the language, images flooded her mind, sounds and smells claimed her senses — waves crashing, the scent of sea salt and lush grass and blooming heather, the feel of the wind — through it all spilled a feeling of longing, as well as great joy tempered by deep grief.
I couldn’t find any specific lute music that fit the bill, but here’s a bit to listen to if you’ve a mind.
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