May. 8th, 2005

theravenboy: (thoughtful)
Everything is routine at the Davies household, and in the Davies routine, Monday night is for cleaning.

Bran changes the linens on his bed, folding the sheet corners under the mattress and laying the quilt Mrs Evans made for him neatly on top. He lifts the rug off the floor and shakes the dust out through his second floor window. Turning to hang the rug on a chair, Bran notices Owen scrubbing the staircase banister. He says nothing, though. They have hardly spoken in weeks.

Bran closes his bedroom door and kneels on the bare floor to pull two sheet-wrapped bundles out from under his bed. He unwraps them, first the harp and then the horn, wiping them reverently. When the footsteps creaking on the stairs demonstrate that Owen is too far away to hear, Bran plays a soft, testing arpeggio on the harp. Every string is still perfectly tuned, of course -- Gwion's work. The instrument cries out to be played longer, but Bran can't, not now. He wraps the harp and horn up again, sets them on top of the clean bed, and proceeds to sweep the floor. When the floor is clear, Bran carefully slides the instruments back under the bed. He opens his door.

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theravenboy: (Default)
Bran Davies

November 2009

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