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Age: 118
Country: United Kingdom

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February 24, 2014


01/27/2023 02:41 PM 

drabble: childhood home
Category: Stories

Inspired by some others´ drabbles initiated by the prompt „Childhood home”, here is my take on this topic.
My very own head-canons regarding Iorweth´s Childhood homes (depending on verses, I plan to do at least Witcher verse and Tolkien verse, the two main setting I got SLs going with him)

1st Witcher verse:
The wooden cottage built next to a small stream, after centuries up to this day still were the epitome of what “home” and “comfort” meant for him.
And though the cottage was long gone, another casualty of human against human wars and the destruction they brought with them, he vividly remembered golden sunlight light entering through pointed, stained-glass windows, the happy gurgling of water as constant background-noise, the smell of lilac bushes which miraculously bloomed the whole year in abundance right behind the house.
It was a small place, but it was their place – back then remotely tugged away like about 3 dozen other elven houses scattered along the small valley, almost untouched by humans. A tiny sanctuary for a few hundreds of them.
His parents were part of a community who´d decided to trade a seclusive, simple life away from the big human cities over many conveniences accessible to those of the elves who bent their knees to human rulership. His first few tender years as an elfling the now elven Commander, hated and loved by his own kind, mostly hated by all other races, especially humans, spent in blissful ignorance of what was going on beyond the lush, thick, concealing boarders of the ancient forest surrounding the little elvish settlement.
Glimpses of the old pride of the Aen Seidhe shone through everywhere in this place. Their craftsmanship, their skillful mastery of martial arts, their love for arts and crafts. His father was both, a warrior, passing down his own skills early to his only son, but also a skilled craftsman. His mother held a wide knowledge of nature´s treasures and thus was the highly esteemed healer of the little clan. – Their son lucky enough to inherit the best of both of their merits in terms of skill, talent and intelligence not only showed an overly inquisitive nature, causing him to sponge up everything shown and told to him eagerly, but also early on proved to have a more than average knack for planning and strategy. In his case mostly utilized to prank others or to plot some other mischievous acts with his best friend Ciaran.
Often enough the shenanigans the two of them pulled off caused his mother to mockingly ask his father whether they were raising a genius or mad person, though all with little effort to hide neither amusement nor pride.

This home, those first, unspoiled, carefree years as a young fledgling spent among caring parents and at the side of a brother like friend – surely were the best and warmest memories of his life. Life as it should have been, for all of his people – untouched, lasting.
Probably it was this brief taste of the Aen Sheide´s former glory and freedom, imprinted into him unspoiled thanks to the nativity of childhood which later influenced his self-assigned, stubborn, self-destructive task to bring back to all of his people what he had been able to cherish once and oh so fleetingly.

2nd Tolkien verse …. to come soon….


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