Swing It

Swing It
by Eldraug

Story Notes

Title: Swing It

Author: Eldraug (mirkwoodwolf@hotmail.com)

Rating: R – Rooning… lots of rooning. Some language.

Beta: The usual suspects… Tol and Tae. What would I do without you?

Summary: A hammock in Saltrock records its history

Author’s notes: Completely AU, as always. Gets mushy at the end. Please mind the rating. If you are under 18, don’t clicka. You have been warned.

Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing – all characters, locations, and backgrounds belong to Storm Constantine. I’m only playing with them as it’s all the lease-to-own brain seems to want to do.

Swing It

Summer is coming to an end. The wind is getting colder and the leaves are beginning to turn. Fewer hara are visiting with me as they are beginning to spend more of their free time inside. Soon one of the househara will come and take me into the storage shed for another season to be stored with the outdoor furniture and Seel’s badminton supplies. Such is the life of a hammock.

The Freyhellan, master craftshara at seafaring items, made me. I was too large to be used aboard ship so I was sent to market in Immanion where Seel found me and brought me back to Saltrock. He found two lovely trees in his backyard, strung me up, and proceeded to take a nap. I was his little secret for a while. He would lie, cradled in me, as the breeze gently swung him to and fro. He would sleep away the afternoon, tucked away from his work and the others in Saltrock in our grove of trees. It’s really too bad that I didn’t remain his little secret. Seel, however, never was any good at keeping secrets.

Being I was a rather large hammock, Seel decided one afternoon to bring a friend to visit with while he rested. What a whiney, annoying har! He whined about it being too hot and too salty and having to wait too long for his little roon pillow to be incepted and that Flick didn’t know how to make waffles right and . . . he could have gone on forever. Honestly, he probably would have if Seel hadn’t shut him up with a kiss. Good, I thought, now that he’s shut up, we could go back to a peaceful afternoon. Oh, how wrong could a hammock have been!

It started off playfully, Seel and Mr. Calanthe Whineyhar snuggling and kissing. However, things took a turn for the worse when I noticed their clothes beginning to be slung over my sides. Then the moaning began and the tossing and turning. I could feel myself beginning to list dangerously to the left. Those two idiots knew nothing about hammocks! You can’t lie too much to one side or you’ll end up flipping. Which is exactly what they did. Really, I didn’t feel all that bad about it. It was actually rather funny – Seel with waffle-butt from being pressed into my ropes and the Whineyhar squished beneath him. Calanthe made a funny noise when they landed and then began moaning that his “ouana-lim had better not be broken”. It would serve him right if it had been. Unfortunately for the dirt beneath me, it wasn’t broken so they finished right there. Better in the dirt than on me.

After being dumped in the dirt, one would have thought that Seel would have learned his lesson and passed it on to the others. Don’t roon in the hammock or you’ll end up getting flipped out. However, it seems that the learning curve for some hara is steeper with others. Not only did Seel not learn his lesson, but several other hara decided to come and try their luck too.

After a week or so, Flick, Seel’s roon-friend and cook, brought a young, pretty, dark-haired har to the grove of trees. They were tentative and clumsy while standing and it only got worse once they lay down in me. However, for all their uncoordinated and inexperienced fumblings, they had figured out that if they lay crossways in me that as one of them rooned, I would sway gently and no one would fall out. Two good swings then the dark-haired har, who I assumed was Pellaz as Flick kept saying that over and over, cried out and they stopped moving. Well, I suppose it takes all sorts, but that little speed demon had better get control over his ouana-lim if he ever wanted to roon again. Maybe that’s why, when he and Calanthe came to me, little Pellaz was the one with waffle-butt. At least until I flipped them out into the dirt again because Calanthe won’t listen to anyhar. Stubborn idiot.

Every now and then, Thiede came to Saltrock for a visit with Orien. Every time, he arrived in the woods and lay in me until night came. He’d rock back and forth slowly, sleeping off and on while listening to the wind in the trees. Once the moon was out, Orien would arrive and they would roon, slowly and languidly within my ropes. First Thiede would be ouana, then Orien, then Thiede again. It amazed me how well matched those two were – their movements were always in perfect time with each other and never once did they get dumped out of me, even though they didn’t lie cross ways. Even after Orien was killed, Thiede would still come and lie in me at least once a month, when the moon was full. I think he missed Orien and felt closer to him on those nights.

For a very long time, things grew quiet around Saltrock. Seel came to visit only sporadically, Flick had left entirely and Calanthe har Whineybutt was gone. I can’t say that I missed most of them, but Seel . . . my beautiful Seel. I did miss him – terribly.

Finally, finally, Seel came home, but with a chesnari in tow. A Parasielian named Swift. An aptly named har if there ever was one. Poor Seel. Quick aruna can be nice and Seel always was a busy har, but this was ridiculous! Yet, as time wore on, Swift seemed to gain better control over his ouana-lim and could make Seel howl with pleasure all afternoon. It was in the comfort of my ropes that their second pearl was made.

I have since been relocated to Megalithica in a corner of the gardens of Forever. A whole new set of hara have found the pleasures of a afternoon of sleeping in the sun and gently rocking in a well-worn hammock. Tiahaar Cobweb spends a great deal of his time within my ropes. He sleeps or just listens to the gardens around him. He is so very alone.

Many afternoons, however, I am the only way Seel has to settle a cranky harling into a nap. Azriel will snuggle down into my ropes and Seel will gently rock him until the harling goes to sleep. He’s such a sweet little harling and he doesn’t toss around like most little ones. We have spent many a long, quiet afternoon – just Azriel and me.

Tyson is quite another story. That har needs something; I would suggest a swift kick in the seat of his trousers, but no one has asked me. Needless to say, I wasn’t overly surprised to find out that he was Calanthe’s son. The splinter doesn’t fall too far from the branch I suppose. He has rooned himself and his friends out of me far too many times to count. I swear it has to be genetic! Tyson and his hostling are genetically incapable of rooning in a hammock. Or they are just too stubborn or too dumb to listen to the others around them who don’t get dumped in the dirt.

Much to my chagrin, Calanthe har Whineybutt has been to Forever a few times. One particularly memorable evening, he chased Pellaz out of Cobweb’s party and into the gardens. After an hour of playing hide-and-seek, they finally collapsed into me. Clothing began to fly over my sides and the shifting and rolling came soon after. As did the inevitable dumping into the dirt as neither one of those har can remember that you either roon crossways or you don’t roll around so much! They’ll never learn. I can almost guarantee it. Maybe Seel needs to put up instruction on of the trees close to me entitled “How to Roon in the Hammock and Not Fall Out.” It would probably save Calanthe and Tyson from getting dusty backsides and bruises. That is, if they chose to read the instructions.

Tonight, as the full moon rises, I feel the familiar weight of an old friend. Thiede appears from the trees and settles within the confines of my ropes. He takes a few shuddering breaths and sniffles rather loudly. I know he is thinking of Orien. Another familiar weight is upon me as Cobweb lies down, holding Thiede close. The Sulh whispers and soothes the other har as one would soothe a harling. They will stay like this all night – Cobweb holding Thiede close and Thiede clinging to him. Cobweb whispers old lullabies and becomes lost in memories of his own lost chesnari. Soon, the red-haired har will fall asleep and allow dreams to come to him, allow Orien to come to him and they can be together once more in the comfort of a hammock in the woods.

The End


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