The Hills of Evendim RPG

[Elora]

Uien

It was as though an icy gale ripped through her, colder even than those that had pulled at her upon Caradhras. Swallowing pain, confusion and pride, Uien rose in that moment away and left Falowik to his solitude. For that was what he wanted, was it not? She did not know the answer to that question as she walked to where her horse nipped at the turf.

As she ran her hand over Thallion's neck, Uien could feel the seeping melancholoy of Fornost sink into her. She knew the tales of this once jewel of the Numenorian's northern kingdom. Arnor, it had been called upon a time, and Fornost like Annuminas had been filled with the light and music of the people who carved their cities from stone in the manner of Elendil's folk. For a time, all too brief as recounted by those in Lothlorien, the people of Arnor and the Elves had free traffic.

When war had fallen in the Second Age to darken the northern lands, Elves had stood beside the Men of Arnor to fend it off and hold it at bay. Yet time and darkness had crept past and Fornost had fallen into abandonment with the spreading malignant influence of Sauron's host. It was a lament, the all too brief life of Fornost and her people. Yes, Uien knew the tale of Fornost well.

Never had she thought to upon its doorstep now. Her mind and heart was restless and troubled. With a sigh, she retrieved the curry brush she had taken with her from her saddle pack brushed out Thallion's coat. The gelding whickered in delight, shivering and stamping at the care. The long, fluid strokes in a way also soothed Uien's mind as her brush passed time and again over his coat. She took her time about it, needing silence herself, and the simplicity of brushing down her horse.

Behind her, by the fire, people spoke. The evening meal was being taken, a watch was being ordered. Uien let it all pass without a word as she sorted through her thoughts. When she had finished with Thallion, she replaced the brush in her saddle pack and straightened. The sun was all but gone now, a ruby smudge upon the western horizon. Her mind drifted back to the withdrawn coldness in Falowik's eyes when last she had looked upon him and a great restlessness once again took her.

Without a glance back to the fire nor even a word, Uien slipped away into the growing twilight. I will not be long, she told herself. She could almost hear her brother's frustrated comment on her wandering feet even as she told herself that. I will not wander far. She let her feet carry her through the desolate lands into twilight's calm. After a time, she came to where she could make out a tumble of stones, twinned in battered ivy.

She stopped, on the outskirts of the ruin of Fornost. Then, and only then, did she let the silence and stillness slip from her. What was revealed was the full turmoil of her heart. To the weathered stones she spoke into the emptiness. Perhaps they held answers, shaped by mortal hands as they were. Perhaps they held some memory of the people who shaped them, some lore of their hearts.

"Is that he does not love me? I know it is not that he cannot love. Was that not what I saw in his face and heard in his voice? Was that not what I tasted upon his lips?

It must be, for I bring nothing to him of value."

The stones did not answer. Neither did the stars that flickered from the sky overhead.

"Is it my weakness, when I should be strength? All I possess is memory, and what use is that. Glad or grim, all I am is memory. All he has is the future, I am the past pulling him back. I do not know how to do this, only that I wish to above all else.

And that is not enough, clearly, to love him. He seeks more and should have it."

Her voice fell flat with despair. Uien's hands washed over her face, taking away the tears that sat upon her face, mocking her foolishness and ignorance. She fell silent, mind churning. The twilight seemed diminished as she absorbed it, empty and hollow. Uien knew why. It was becase it had been filled by the joy of a heart dearer to her than all else and now that joy pulled away and closed in.

Uien stood with her arms tightly wrapped around herself, cold as the stones nearby.

"In this mission will he find his future and be set free to follow it. I, who loves him dearer, will see to that. Even if it he depart. That is the path I am set upon, and I knew it long before now. I will not falter now, for he is my beloved though I am not his."

Beneath the mantle of her hair which spilt down her back and lifted on the evening breeze, Uien's shoulders quivered and her eyes shone with unshed tears. She should go back, but not yet. Not just yet.

Falco

The Shirrif had found himself warming to the business he was about. Individuals in the group seemed to be thinking for themselves, a promising sign. There were still some that adhered to Falowik and his word, predictably Uien amongst them. The business with the crow had tested his patience also.

The Elves had murmured amongst themselves about the import of the crow's strange behaviour. Falco, on the otherhand, remained determinedly practical.

"If it's a sign," he snorted in mild amusement that was a little forced, "then it's that the crow thought his talons needed sharpening for his next meal." That people wondered much as he did was a comfort to the Shirrif. Afterall, the prospect of being deep in the wilds with a group of gullible innocents was not a comforting one.

As the day had passed, Falco had been keenly observing Falowik. As Uien was often nearby, his observation extended to her also. What he noticed was truly curious. He had not seen words exchanged between the two, but clearly they were drawing apart. Was it some ploy to disarm the doubters or something else. He had unsaddled his pony with the rest of them at the end of the day. Uien had turned suddenly away from Falowik, pulling her horse with her.

The Elf had then busied herself with a desperate energy, unsaddling and then brushing down her horse. Then, with what could only be described as a sad sigh, she had simply walked off. If Falowik noticed anything of this, he gave no indication. To Falco though, despite her Elven nature, she seemed the picture of feminine upset. He could tell, from the way she carried herself as she walked away.

Either she was hurt and upset over something he had missed, or it was a fine act and the pair were up to something. Falco tethered his pony and stationed himself near the camp fire. The wolf pup gambolled blithely nearby and he idly played with it as he pondered things.

"Where is Uien," he heard someone ask as they neared the fire. Falowik had glanced up and around hastily at the question. It had been asked by Lira, Falco realised.

"She headed off over there," he furnished, pointing in the direction he had seen her walk off in. "She had a fair speed about her too, if I dare say so. Not running, nor strolling either." Falco threw that in for good measure, watching Falowik curiously. Falowik was watching the fire guardedly, it seemed to Falco. What was going on here? Those two have been as thick as thieves since they met.

"It's not wise to wander alone. Did she say where she was going," Thoromir said, brow furrowed.

"Not to me," Falco said. The rest of the group shook their heads. The wolf pup nipped lightly at his fingers in protest at the Shirrif's cease to their play. He ruffled the pup's fur between his ears by way of apology.

"Maybe she didn't think she needed to, this being an Elvish Riding Party after all. There's been no sign of trouble. Perhaps she doesn't appreciate the danger of wandering in a land reputedly filled with violent brigands, despite Falowik's earlier illustration," Falco said.

"I'm sure she'll find her way back safe and sound," the Shirrif said. "She seems capable enough, being a Big Tr... Folk and all."

Falco maintained a relaxed demeanour, smiling pleasantly, for behind it he watched the other Elves and Falowik closely. If there was something afoot, and the camp was unsettled enough to suggest Big Trouble was coming, then likely Uien would be in cohoots with her kindred and Falowik. He'd not be fooled by the pretense of cool distance between the two. The Shirrif prided himself on his powers of observation and for good reason, it had to be said. He'd seen the expressions on their faces when they thought noone was paying attenion. That sort of sentiment did not cool so quickly.

The pup tumbled over his hand, stalking it and pouncing in it's game. Falco watched through it all, as the Elves glanced at each other and Falowik stared at the fire.

"What's for dinner," he asked, inwardly pleased with his cleverness in appearing to not be taking any note of anything. Thoromir was still frowning and Lumiel looked at the Shirrif in surprise at the sudden change of topic.

"I think we'd all feel better with a full stomach," he added. Gorby and Anson nodded at his traditional and well founded hobbit wisdom.

[ November 22, 2003: Message edited by: Elora ]