WHO: Anairë and OPEN! WHERE: Vinyamar WHEN: Forward dated to Sunday morning WHAT: Singing, etc. WARNINGS: TBD, likely low STATUS: Open, ongoing
The party had gone in the most lovely way possible, and Anairë woke the next morning feeling still energized and excited about everything. She stood, bathed, and made her way downstairs to have some breakfast and meet whatever guests had stayed through the night.
She was nearly to the dining room when a strange impulse took her, and she began to hum a little. Such a thing was not strange among elves, she supposed, but the song that burst from her lips was not one she had ever heard before, and was actually quite against her mood, even if it was strangely appropriate.
Here I sit on Buttermilk Hill Who can blame me, cryin' my fill And ev'ry tear would turn a mill Johnny has gone for a soldier
Me, oh my, I loved him so Broke my heart to see him go And only time will heal my woe Johnny has gone for a soldier
I'll sell my flax and my spinning wheel To buy my love a sword of steel So it in battle he might wield Johnny has gone for a soldier.
She blinked as the last notes of her song reverberated through the hall, her face reddening as to could have heard that song that spoke acutely to her heart, or that had, not so very long ago.