Gloaming: Evening twilight; shade or dusky light; or even as an adjective as in: gloaming-sky, gloaming-hour, etc.
If you are of Scots heritage, you may recognize this word. I first heard it at one of my husband’s family gatherings. It was part of a poem: ‘roamin’ in the gloamin’. At the time, I’d no idea what it meant, but it sounded cool.
Our wonderful Old English Dictionary has ‘gloaming’ blossoming into written usage sometime in the eleventh century, possibly even before, which means it’s quite possible the characters in Avelynn, set in 869, might have looked up and admired the gloaming-sky. Or perhaps they took a walk in the dimming of the gloaming-hour.
Here’s a wee excerpt from Book #2 in the Avelynn series (still untitled because coming up with titles is hard! 🙂
Alrik laughed, seemingly amused at her antics, and let her perch on his lap for most of the evening. Gil tried valiantly to engage me in conversation, but as the candles burned lower, my discord grew. Incensed by Marared’s grating laughter and the deep rumble of Alrik’s voice, I pulled Alrik aside, feigning a need for fresh air.
We walked side by side under the weak light of a waning gibbous moon. The wind was sharp, and the damp chill from the sea sent shivers down my spine.
“What is it, Hjartað?”
“Marared desires you.”
“I have known her for several years. We are good friends.”
Friends my ass. I scowled at him, the force of my displeasure obscured by the gloaming around us. “I’d just as soon you not fawn over her so much.”
He roared with laughter. “The vixen is threatened by the mouse!” He reached out and played with a lock of my hair, his fingers brushing the skin above the kirtle’s neckline.
To be continued … ;D