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#41 |
Maiden of Tears
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As the discussion heightened around the table, with both Reed and Darian defending her plan, Ros bit her lip and stayed quiet, not wanting to aggravate people anymore. Barak seemed less than pleased with Reed’s further suggestions, and Ros did not want to interrupt his current conversation. Looking around the table, she saw Reed had departed, now standing by the fire, and Eorlyn seemed very interested in Rhys.
Her eyes still roving around the room, she saw one person she hadn’t spoken to yet - a girl a little younger than herself, with her hair as black as night tied back from her face. Jisela, her name was, or so Ros had heard while travelling. Wasn’t she the one who had been playing with the snowballs? Jisela seemed to be sitting alone and as silent as Ros was, and Ros wished the atmosphere at the table was a little less tense. Hoping to break the ice with Jisela, she pushed back her chair and walked over, putting her hand out. “Hello, I’m Rosanna,” she said. “Am I right in thinking that you are Jisela?” The dark-haired girl smiled and nodded, and Ros sat down beside her.
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'It must often be so, Sam, when things are in danger: someone has to give them up, lose them, so that others may keep them' ~Frodo "Life is hard. After all, it kills you." - Katharine Hepburn |
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#42 |
The Melody of Misery
Join Date: Aug 2002
Location: The Island of Conclusions (You get there by jumping!)...
Posts: 1,147
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As the other woman sat next to her, Jisela smiled kindly. Jisela had taken her boots off, leaving them next to her seat to dry. Jisela hated wearing the boots, they were old and hard to polish and clean. Jisela decided to look around the room once before talking to Rosanna. Reed was sitting by the fire with Darian, and Rhys was with the girl Eorlyn. Other people from the group dotted the table.
"Nice to meet you, Rosanna," Jisela began, shaking hands with the girl. "You can call me Ros. You were the one playing with snow earlier right?" Ros asked, watching the other people of the group talk and converse. "Yes. And I had no idea I had been throwing snowballs incorrectly my whole life until I was educated in the art by our companions Almarien and Krosan. Almarien's snowball can knock a strong man off his horse, but I still prefer sending them to the ground with an uppercut. Krosan's technique...well, I hope whoever falls victim to one of Krosan's snowballs has a hanky with them," Jisela replied, and suddenly realized that she was droning on about something truly uninteresting and unimportant. "Sorry. I guess you don't exactly want to hear about snowballs." Ros chuckled. "Are you in the Order?" Ros changed the subject quickly. Jisela nodded. "Rhys got into it first. We needed a way to get off the streets. We were given food and housing and Rhys trained with the Order. When I was old enough I started learning more about hand-to-hand combat, or, fist fighting, which is really what I was interested in. I'm guessing you're in the Order?" Jisela continued, and Ros nodded. "How'd you get involved with it, the Order, I mean?" Jisela asked, hoping to learn a little more about Ros. Nearby, Eorlyn and Rhys had begun to continue their conversation from earlier. Rhys seriously wondered which ranger would take Eorlyn under his wing. Rhys did not believe Eorlyn was...the type to go into such a line of work. "My mother and father died of a sickness when I was young and Jisela was even younger," Rhys began, trying to ignore Eorlyn's fluttering and battering eyelasshes. "And for money I worked in a stable, with a former soldier in the Gondorian army. He taught my sister and me the ways of fighting and such, and when an agent of the Order found us, he offered us a place to stay in exchange for us joining." Eorlyn nodded, and Rhys wondered if she was pretending to be interested. "Are you, by any chance, a descendant of, or from Rohan?" Rhys asked, ending the awkward silence.
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#43 |
Wight
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: With Gambit, ambushing VanimaEdhel, most likely
Posts: 117
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The fire was pleasant, but the company was better and Reed was glad for the company.
"Do you think we will find the people responsible for this?" Reed asked leaning foward in the great chair. "We must," Darian said, "I do not wish to think of what will happen if we are not successful." "Me neither, I've got debts to pay," Reed said and there was a laugh at the end of her voice. "What's it like to be a Ranger? Very dangerous work I imagine?" Reed said settling back into her chair. The phrase "dangerous work I imagine" was said with an air of fluffed up importance. "Oh quite" Darian replied realising that Reed meant to comment lightly, "We are forever trying to keep the dangerous elves off our lands" He finished and now he was the one laughing. "Look at those two over there," Said Reed glancinf toward Rhys and Eorlyn, and Darian followed her gaze. "If she bats her eyelashes anymore, she libel to go blind," Reed said coyly turning her eyes back toward the blond-haired ranger. [ May 26, 2003: Message edited by: DayVampyre ]
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~~Your finger hired the crew? ~No, that's silly. The man who lives in my finger hired the crew, Mr. Bimbol. |
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#44 |
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
Join Date: Dec 2002
Location: Rivendell
Posts: 807
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Cool it down a bit, girl Eorlyn thought. She was collecting odd looks from Reed and Ros alike, and poor Rhys seemed rather... confused. The girl sat up straight and pushed her braids back in a reserved sort of manner.
"Oh, my father is from Rohan. I myself have never lived there.. unforunately. I am told it is far easier for girls there. I had to run away from home to become a ranger´s student... If you say you worked in stables, you must be good with horses. Is that so?" He shrugged. "I prefer swords, and having my feet on the ground. But if you are a daughter of Rohan, I guess you´ll eat me alive for that remark?" Eorlyn laughed. "Gondorians have a wierd impression of my father´s people. I wouldn´t eat you alive... though of course your opinion is most unclear to me. That is where my Rohirrim side breaks through. Say, I´ve been curious about this all along. What exactly is The Order of the Black Rose? I mean, do you know what people do there?" [ May 24, 2003: Message edited by: Manardariel ]
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Love is a perky elf dancing a merry little jig and then suddenly he turns on you with a miniature machine gun. Blog :-)|FanFicDream City |
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#45 |
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
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Krosan had been eating quietly. The conversations went on highly on how they where going to do next. He did not care. All he wanted was a clear shot at those betraying rats. Some of the group went to the fire. Others sat by the table to discuss matters of no importants to him.
Krosan went over to Barak. The man had grown upset with the suggestions. It was a stupid idea any way you would place it. The farmers would just see them coming. After a messenger of the king had died, strangers would come and ask if something happened lately. Anyway you would put it, it would be foolish. Krosan twisted a chair and sat down, with his arm resting on the back. Barak seemed to be troubled. He had no idea. Neither did Krosan. He thought up what he could do, but only came up with riding on. "What do you think Barak? I can only think of riding on. There is no way we can find that rider. Unless we have a good hound or something. I suggest we sleep the night over it. The night is always a good council." Krosan said. "I think that is best. We are all to tired to do anything. Sleep is best." Krosan stood up and took some of his paper from his pocket. He always carried some paper around when he was bored. For some reason he was good at drawing. He sat down at the table and looked at the men and women by the fire. He first scribbled down the rough shapes of the mantle piece. He felt inspiration dwelling and drew the people by the fire. The cosy armchairs soon where filled up by a flirting Eorlyn, confused Rhys and the others. Krosan "accidentally" drew Eorlyn while winking. He smiled at the face of Rhys. He was definitely not as witty as his sister. The drawing's process was fast and after an hour or so he was satisfied. He took the other drawings out of his bag and placed the one he just made with the others. The man always had a satisfied feeling when something was finished. It still gnawed on him that he was not sure if he could trust anyone. They all looked very innocent by the fire. But what was innocence anyway? He took out his whetstone and sat by the fire sharpening his short sword. He cut of the short piece of rope holding his white hair together and let it hang loosely on his shoulders. The sneering sound of the stone scraping over the blade caused some annoyance with Jisela, but the man ignored her and was amused by the dancing flames that danced about two feet from his face. Is his sword was sharp enough, he placed the whetstone back in his waist belt and stuck the sword back in it's sheath. He took one of the small tables where people could put their drinks on and laid his feet on it. He sat down back, pulled his cloak over his eyes and fell into a shallow sleep. [ May 24, 2003: Message edited by: Helkahothion ] |
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#46 |
Maiden of Tears
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"How'd you get involved with it, the Order, I mean?" Jisela asked Ros.
“Oh…it’s not terribly interesting. I left home when I was young, and got myself into a bit of trouble a couple of years back. Morgan helped me out then, and this is my way of helping her in return – she told me about the Order, and if I wanted to work for her. I had few other options, unless I returned home, so I stayed.” Ros shrugged, but was unwilling to reveal anymore about herself, until she knew Jisela better. “I see.” Jisela nodded. “A lot of people seem to get into the Order in that kind of way.” Ros laughed. “Rhys still looks a little afraid of that ranger, Eorlyn. Should we wander over and help him out?” “No, let’s watch him squirm a little longer,” Jisela answered, a smile spreading across her face. “I suppose you’re close to Rhys, then,” Ros commented. “Since you lived on the streets together, you must have looked after each other.” After saying this, Ros regretted it instantly, remembering painful memories of her and her two brothers together, before they had left, and were dead and missing. Closing her eyes for a second, she opened them in time to see Jisela replying to her.
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'It must often be so, Sam, when things are in danger: someone has to give them up, lose them, so that others may keep them' ~Frodo "Life is hard. After all, it kills you." - Katharine Hepburn |
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#47 |
The Melody of Misery
Join Date: Aug 2002
Location: The Island of Conclusions (You get there by jumping!)...
Posts: 1,147
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"Yes, I suppose. He still hates to admit that I don't need him to take care of me. When we were on the streets we needed all the money we could get just to buy food. It is Rhys' fault that I got into the Order. He was so worried about me that he brought me into the stables he worked at to learn from the old soldier," Jisela replied. She hadn't caught Ros as she tried to recompose herself over something, but did see that Ros seemed let down by something or another after her reply. Jisela, determined to cheer Ros up from whatever had bothered her, stood up in the space between the table and the fireplace.
"One time while the hostler was teaching me something, a tiny parade of acrobats walked by," Jisela was making up the occurance, but decided it would be a funny sight if she imiatated the imagined entertainers. Jisela backed away from the table, towards where her boots had made a medium-sized puddle of melted water. "And this one woman did this split in the air thing!" Jisela attempted to show Ros what she was telling, and kicked her right leg forward until her knee almost touched her head. However, much to Jisela's dismay, her left foot slipped on the wet wood from her boots. Jisela came tumbling down with a crash after her left leg slid on the water. Rhys had been searching for an answer to Eorlyn's question, and decided to change the subject after a long, awkward silence. "Would you like another glass of wine?" Rhys finally spoke, a slightly embarrassed chuckle in his voice. Eorlyn looked a bit put off, and nodded, her eyes squinted in confusion. Rhys picked up the girl's glass and poured wine from a pitcher into it. Just at that moment, a loud thud echoed through the room. Rhys and Eorlyn searched for the search of the noise, and Rhys sighed when he saw that his sister was laying on the ground, rubbing her head. "One day soon I will marry her off to someone rich who won't mind that she always gets into trouble." Rhys said jokingly to Eorlyn. The girl stiffened suddenly, as if what Rhys had said struck a chord of some sort. Rhys hoped he didn't offend her. "Did I say something wrong?"
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...Come down now, they'll say. But everything looks perfect from far away - Come down now! But we'll stay. |
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#48 |
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
Join Date: Dec 2002
Location: Rivendell
Posts: 807
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Eru, are all men the same? Exasperated, Eorlyn studied the young man in front of her. Maybe it was time to tell those men what they did to girls they "married off" as he had called it. But that wouldn´t do, she didn´t even know Rhys properly. She couldn´t just go lecture him about freedom and desires of women! But her lips seemed to form words on their own, without her help.
"You asked me earlier if I was a daughter of Rohan. That I most indeed am, and not only in heritage. I´m sure you heard about the maidens of Rohan to be especially independent. Well, that I am. And so I must tell you that I am appaled by this buisiness of marrying women off, of huckstering them like a prize horse or a precious jewel. 'Someone rich', you say. Tell me, if that someone would be utterly detestable and old enough to be the girl´s father, would any of you men mind? Truly, I´m sure you love your sister, Rhys. But would you stop to consider if this was for the girl´s good? Oh yes, you will say, for a woman can find her true place in this world only in marriage. Do you really think that? Do you really think we girls want to be locked into cages, want to know our purpose before we are even 25? If you really think so, I feel sorry for you. But if you don´t, then don´t act as if you would. It will only cause unhappiness." She looked around. People were staring at her, and she realized her voice must have been very loud. What had she been thinking? They must take her for insane now! "Please excuse me for a moment" she wispered, then fled the room full of staring, bewildred faces. She ran into the stables and sank together next to Storm. "Oh Storm," she wispered, sobbing. "I messed it up again. I messed it all up."
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Love is a perky elf dancing a merry little jig and then suddenly he turns on you with a miniature machine gun. Blog :-)|FanFicDream City |
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#49 |
Speaker of the Dead
Join Date: Oct 2002
Location: Superbia
Posts: 868
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Almarien peered at the events unfolding in front of him over the rim of his mug. His eyebrows raised as Eorlyn muttered a choked "Please excuse me for a moment" and darted out of the room. He counted to one hundred slowly, then stood up and left the inn himself.
He made sure that his heavy boots crunched the leaves beneath his feet, and snapped twigs, so that he did not startle the young woman. He found her in the stables, stroking her horse's mane and weeping. He went up to her, making a considerable amount of noise for a Ranger, but she did not look up. Finally he stood beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. She turned her dark green eyes to him, and he smiled gently. She was quite a pretty girl; she reminded him a little of his own Talanna. "Rhys meant no offense," he said, stroking Eorlyn's horse's side. "Men often say things and don't understand the ramifications, especially with women!" He chuckled, thinking of his own problems understanding Talanna sometimes. "But what happened back there was more than just a petty hurt, I think. Would you like to talk about it?" Almarien leaned easily by the wall, waiting for Eorlyn's answer--or refusal. Either way, he would listen.
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"Oh, my god! I care so little, I almost passed out!" --Dr. Cox, "Scrubs" |
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#50 |
Wight
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: With Gambit, ambushing VanimaEdhel, most likely
Posts: 117
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"That was odd. She didn't seem to be the kind of person that would do that" Reed said, having just observed Eorlyn exit.
"The race of Man is sometimes the most confusing," said Darian with mock seriousness which made Reed smile. "I'm going to go get something to drink, do you want anything?" Reed asked, standing up and stretching her arms behind her head. "there's something I wouldn't say no to." Darian said, relaxing back into the chair. Reed walked back over the table were a few servers were standing and inquired about the drinks. A young boy with straw-berry blond hair went to retrieve them. While she waited, Reed struck up a conversation with the remaining two. The boy returned and Reed tipped him two silver coins. "Here you go," Reed said sitting down in the chair and handing Darian a drink at the same time, "I think it maybe wine," she said and then tasted it, "yes that's what it is, a very good one at that." Reed sat for a moment, sipping the wine when she noticed Darian's sword handle glinting in the fire-light. "Beautiful sword, may I see it?"
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~~Your finger hired the crew? ~No, that's silly. The man who lives in my finger hired the crew, Mr. Bimbol. |
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#51 |
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
Join Date: Dec 2002
Location: Rivendell
Posts: 807
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"Would you like to talk about it?"
Eorlyn looked at the ranger. "No." She said flatly. He shrugged and continued to look at her. "Do you think I´m a total lunatic now? And a stupid Miss Priss without a sense of humor?" It broke out of her. My tounge is totally out of control! A hint of a smile crossed her face, before dissapearing again. She stared at the ranger. Did he think she was a lunatic? He shook his head and smiled. "And I´m not! She exclaimed. "I´m not crazy, I´m just- it´s just that-" she broke off, unable to express what she really thought. "I´m sure Rhys hates me now." she wispered. The Ranger laughed. It wasn´t a mean laugh, she didn´t feel he was laughing at her. She felt her own lips turn into a smile. "I´m behaving very daft, I know." "Actually, you remind me of my own wife, and she certainly isn´t daft." He smiled again, busying him with Storm´s mane. "I do want to talk about it." She wispered. It couldn´t hurt. In fact she was sure he would see right through her when she talked about herself as a ranger´s apprentice. She wasn´t even sure if there were such things! So she would have to tell him the truth. Eorlyn didn´t like to lie, and she would like it even less to be caught lieing. "You know, I´m no really a Ranger´s student." She said shyly. The ranger nodded. "I know." "I´m... I´m just a girl from Minas Tirith." The ranger smiled. "And... I ran ran away from home. Becuase my father, he- he wanted to- to marry me to this guy, I think he´s a captain or something, very rich, of course." She pulled a face. "I don´t even know him. He´s forty! And I´m not even twenty... and father said it was the best chance I would get, and everything was arranded... I have a splendid dowery, and of course that man was thrilled... so I ran away. And now I´m here and when Rhys said he would marry off his sister, I thought I was going to be sick. And I didn´t want to say what I did, it just broke out of me... I swear, I didn´t want to! And I´m sure Barak will send me home now, but I won´t go home, never! I´ll go to Rohan, or to Dol Amroth, anywhere where I don´t have to marry that old bloke! Never!" She felt her face cruple with tears, but her rage was bigger. It forced them down again. She dared not to look at the ranger. Now she´d said it. Now her secret was out. And she knew it would be his duty to take her to Barak and send her away. But she wouldn´t go home. Not like this, no! And if this ranger thought he could tell her off, well he was wrong! Defensively she stuck her chin up at him and stared into his face, [ May 26, 2003: Message edited by: Manardariel ]
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Love is a perky elf dancing a merry little jig and then suddenly he turns on you with a miniature machine gun. Blog :-)|FanFicDream City |
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#52 |
Speaker of the Dead
Join Date: Oct 2002
Location: Superbia
Posts: 868
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Almarien pointedly did not look at Eorlyn as she tried to compose herself, concentrating on murmuring soft words to her horse. A beautiful creature, fitting for Eorlyn, who he now surmised was the daughter of some wealthy merchant or lesser noble or some such. Ranger's apprentice indeed. She did not carry herself like a Ranger's student.
She turned a defiant glare to him, her chin in the air and her eyes narrowed. She said nothing, but her expression dared him to just try something. He smiled at her, hoping that it looked reassuring, but she only glared the harder. He sighed. "Eorlyn, I understand what you're going through--" "Right," the girl laughed mirthlessly. "I had several aunts who tried to marry me off almost before I had completed my Ranger training, but I was in love with Talanna, whose own father was trying to marry her off. Luckily she had an older sister, and I was able to evade my aunts--" "It's not the same thing at all," Eorlyn snapped, folding her arms. "You didn't have to listen to your aunts. Hypothetically, I have to listen to my father." Almarien nodded. "You're right. But what I do understand is the yearning for adventure. I'm thirty-two years old, and I've been doing Ranger work with my father for fourteen years now, so some of the magic has gone out of it, but I remember being your age and wanting to see the world. Your secret is safe with me, Eorlyn." He clapped her on the shoulder, not too hard, but hard enough to let her know that he did not feel afraid of 'breaking' her--that would probably be the worst thing he could do just then. "Now, we have hard riding before us. Why don't we go and get something to eat?"
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"Oh, my god! I care so little, I almost passed out!" --Dr. Cox, "Scrubs" |
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#53 |
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
Join Date: Dec 2002
Location: Rivendell
Posts: 807
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Eorlyn peered at him. He seemed nice enough, and it was good too know some men had the same problems.
"Yes, I´d love to." She smiled. He lead her into the dining room. To her relief everyone else seemed to have gone into the other room. She didn´t think she could look anyone into the face, especially not Rhys. She was stil embaressed, even though she was also rather relieved. She´d never thought lieing was so hard! It felt better to be honest, she decided. While they were waiting for their food, she studied Almarien closely. He seemed so nice! "Sir? I heard you speak of your children earlier. How old are they again?" The man´s expression brightened. Eorlyn smiled at the fond look on his face. Clearly, his children were the apples of his eye. "Talormé is six now, old enough to be taught shooting and such things. With some luck, I´ll one day pass him this sword. Alanai, who is four..." Fascinated, Eorlyn listened. She couldn´t imagine anyone had ever spoken of his children with such love. In the world she had grown up in, little children were an annyance and bigger children were something to show off with. But never, never, where children just so simply loved. She was amazed at this new picture of childhood. And while she listened to Almarien, Eorlyn wondered if she ever would have children to be this fond of. [ May 26, 2003: Message edited by: Manardariel ]
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Love is a perky elf dancing a merry little jig and then suddenly he turns on you with a miniature machine gun. Blog :-)|FanFicDream City |
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#54 |
Wight
Join Date: Dec 2002
Location: the dark recesses of the mind
Posts: 223
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"Beautiful sword. Can I see it?" Reed asked.
"Sure," Darian replied. It glittered in the firelight as he unsheathed it. The runes of the Dúnedain sparkled. The hilt was of a silver metal, with black leather wrapped around the handle. He handed it over to Reed. "It was my father's." She gazed at it in wonder. "Is it customary for Rangers to pass on their swords to their sons?" "No, but if one's father is slain in battle, than it is," he replied. Darian's voice was somber. Reed must have noticed, because she looked up at him. "I'm sorry," she said. "May I ask, how did it happen?" "Him and some of my kin were near Minas Morgul. They were trying to see if there was a way pass Cirith Ungol, but they were attacked. My father was slain. His body was brought back. Many of my equipment use to be his own." "What are these markings on the blade? They're beautiful," she asked. "They are the markings of the Dúnedain. They are of my kin from up north," Darian answered. "The Dúnedain?" she asked. They sat by the fire as Darian and Reed continued to talk into the night.
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In nomini domine saboath sui filique ite ad infernos. |
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#55 |
Wight
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As far as many Gondorians were concerned, there was very little in Harad besides sand and cutthroats. They could hardly be blamed for their error—political dialogue between Umbar and Minas Tirith was nonexistent, never mind educational exchange. Still, Barak had found that the arid land harbored a number of unusual (and sometimes quite useful) animals and objects. Whenever he had a few hours off, the Gondorian could often be found wandering through the crowded markets that dotted the city of Umbar. In the race event that he had a few days off, the knight would often drag Mara into the countryside to observe the wildlife. Some of this constant searching had paid off quite nicely—more than a few people had unexpectedly left the mortal coil shortly after discovering some sort of poisonous animal in their house. Other discovers weren’t nearly as useful, but amusing nonetheless. Pluffy, the black cat that was the center of Mara’s attention at the moment, was a perfect example of such a discovery.
Barak turned his attention away from the energetic ball of fur and back to the map that lay on the table in front of him. They could not possibly cover enough ground to reach the next village today, and the snow certainly didn’t look like it would end tonight. No one had particularly enjoyed the cold ride from Minas Tirith, and the knight was fairly certain that none would want to attempt the same journey in the middle of the night. His hand traced the path of the Great West Road as its traveled south from Minas Tirith. There—a small outpost on the side of the road about halfway between their current position and Arbrook. With any luck, the party could ride the distance before nightfall. The knight cleared his throat loudly. “Ladies and gentlemen. If you’d be so kind to come over here.” Reluctantly, the group gathered around the table. No one was particularly enthusiastic in continuing the long winter ride. “Unless any of you are particularly partial to riding through the night, we’re going to head to the outpost here. At the very least, it’ll be a warm place to spend the night and plan for the morrow. Let’s start moving. I’m sure not one of you wants to be outside after dark.” [ May 31, 2003: Message edited by: Ransom ]
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"The blood of the dead mixes with the the flowing sand and grants more power to the killer."--Gaara of the Desert |
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#56 |
The Melody of Misery
Join Date: Aug 2002
Location: The Island of Conclusions (You get there by jumping!)...
Posts: 1,147
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Jisela shrugged at Barak’s orders. She didn’t particularly mind riding during the day or at night, and she didn’t have any preference to either, for she certainly didn’t fancy riding in the snow at all to begin with. There was no alternative, however, and Jisela was fine with moving on before dusk. Walking towards the fire again, Jisela picked up her boots, which were still damp. She sat down on the wooden floor space nearest to the inn door and began to pull on her boots.
Once she was done pulling on the boots, she clomped (for the boots were rather large on her) back over to the table where she had left her pack. On her way Jisela walked past a gloomy Rhys, who was still dumbfounded about upsetting Eorlyn. Jisela snorted at her brother, remembering how the teary-eyed Eorlyn ran away from him. “Honestly, Rhys! When are you going to stop scaring away all the girls?” Jisela asked playfully. She punched him on the shoulder gently, or as gently as she could. “Really, I don’t know what you said, but if it made a Ranger run out into the cold weather crying, maybe you deserved to get beat up. Maybe I could show that Eorlyn girl a few moves!” Rhys shoved his sister in the opposite direction. He wasn’t in the mood for his sister’s lighthearted and jovial attitude. What had he said wrong? Why would a Ranger be so upset by something he had said in the first place? Rhys sighed and meandered through the group preparing to leave, and finally found Eorlyn. He tapped her on the shoulder, and after looking up and seeing who was there, the girl quickly turned away and avoided Rhys’ gaze. Rhys whistled; he must have done something really wrong. “Eorlyn, I’m not quite sure what I said to upset you,” Rhys began, feeling rather uncomfortable with apologizing without knowing what he did wrong. “But I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I don’t want to have to go through the remainder of this mission with someone being mad at me.” Rhys waited patiently for an answer, hoping that his apology would be accepted. Almarien, who was stood next to Eorlyn as he packed his things, put a hand on Eorlyn’s shoulder and smiled reassuringly to the girl. Jisela continued to stomp around the inn as she waited for everyone else to be ready, and she peered down at the ground as she heard the familiar sound of papers fluttering to the floor. Near a cushioned chair that had been set by the fireplace, Krosan began picking up papers that had been dropped on the floor. Whatever made Jisela feel kind enough to go and help him pick up his papers eluded Jisela, and she instinctively went over to Krosan and bent down to clean some of the parchments off the floor. Lifting a few and seeing what was on them, Jisela smiled wryly as she saw drawings of this and that. They were well drawn, better than anything Jisela could do, and the girl was surprised that Krosan would be the kind of person to draw. “These are pretty good,” Jisela commented, smiling as she picked up a picture drawn of earlier in the inn. Reed and Darian were by the fireplace, and Eorlyn was…winking at Rhys who sat next to her.
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...Come down now, they'll say. But everything looks perfect from far away - Come down now! But we'll stay. |
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#57 |
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
Join Date: Dec 2002
Location: Rivendell
Posts: 807
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Eorlyn barely managed to look Rhys in the face. She was still very embaresssed, and even worse, Rhys seemed to think it was his fault!
"No, no, it totally wasn´t your fault. I- I´m sorry, I shouldn´t have... really, it´s not your fault. It´s something... something personal, you couldn´t know. Please, I hope you´re not mad!" she finally managed to say. He seemed relived, and Eorlyn noticed his mouth curl into a small grin. Eorlyn couldn´t help but be relieved. Her didn´t seem to be mad at her. She smiled a little, and was suprisingly glad when he returned it shyly. The girl tried to maintain the rest of her pride. She remebered how she had carelessly flirted with him only an hour ago... that was the Eorlyn he should know! Her grin widend a bit. "Would you mind me accompaning you in this dark ride?" she asked, looking him straight in the eye. What nice eyes he had! And while Eorlyn waited for an answer, she wondered where in Arda that thought had come from...
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Love is a perky elf dancing a merry little jig and then suddenly he turns on you with a miniature machine gun. Blog :-)|FanFicDream City |
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#58 |
Speaker of the Dead
Join Date: Oct 2002
Location: Superbia
Posts: 868
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Almarien shouldered his pack, then went out to the stables to saddle Lacho, his bay gelding. He grabbed a handful of hay and let Lacho eat it, then leaned over the stall's divider and fed Eorlyn's horse some. A very pretty horse, as he had noticed before. He smiled as he stroked Lacho's neck. The horse whickered softly, and Almarien threw the saddle blanket over his back.
"We've a while to go before dark tonight," Almarien whispered as he straightened the blanket. The horse seemed to understand, and dipped his head sagely as Almarien put the saddle over his back and tightened the girth. He slipped the bridle over Lacho's face, easing the bit into his mouth. After adjusting the stirrups and whispering a few more words, Almarien led him out of the stalls. They had miles to go before they slept. [ May 29, 2003: Message edited by: Orual ]
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"Oh, my god! I care so little, I almost passed out!" --Dr. Cox, "Scrubs" |
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#59 |
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
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"You are ever to kind Jisela. I have had a long time to practise on them. Drawing is my way of expressing." Krosan replied, surprised by the help he got from Jisela.
"That might explain this." Jisela said while looking fixed on a paper. It showed a drawing of a woman. But she did not look like one in a weird way. She had her arms, but they where not attached to her body. She was reaching for a baby. But the baby seemed to be blown away by the wind. Krosan saw the drawing and quickly took it from her hands. He stuffed in his bag and Jisela looked surprised by this. He had taken the drawing from him briskly. She just helped him with the other drawings. One of them pictured the same baby, killing an Orc. This man had some real bad memories, that was for sure. Jisela gave the last papers to the man and Krosan stood up. Jisela suddenly blinked a couple of times. Had she seen correctly? Was the man crying? What she did not know was that Krosan was indeed crying. His mother had been killed in an Orc raid. He had witnessed her being burned in their cabin. He had found the Orc. He hunted the beast down and killed him with his bare hands. The monster begged for mercy as he choked, all Krosan saw was his mother burning in front of his eyes. Her arms reaching for Krosan, but he was only a boy and too young to help him. It always was his weakness. And he hated the Orcs more than anything. [ May 29, 2003: Message edited by: Helkahothion ] |
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#60 |
The Melody of Misery
Join Date: Aug 2002
Location: The Island of Conclusions (You get there by jumping!)...
Posts: 1,147
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Rhys let out a relieved sigh. All was well, and Eorlyn was not mad at him for something he was still clueless about. Bowing gallantly and dramatically sweeping an arm in the direction of the door, Rhys smiled.
"I would be honored to have your company on our ride in the darkest of dark nights, fair maiden!" Rhys replied, all formality ringing in his voice. Eorlyn giggled, and the two made their way out the door and towards the stables. Jisela shrugged off the feeling of being uncomfortable as Krosan snatched the papers away and turned away. Putting her hand on his shoulder reassuringly, Jisela smiled. Whether he wasn't crying or was, something tormented him; it was easy to see. "You were meant to live life," Jisela said calmly. "Are you happy with today if tomorrow is the end? When you're old, will you have regrets then?" All the questions were rhetorical, and the two made their way out towards the stables to get their horses ready, like everyone else already had. The two prepared their mounts while everyone else waited, whether paitently or impatiently. Rhys and Eorlyn talked as if they were old friends, as did Reed and Darian. There was little or no tension within the group, which would be good if the heat of battle were brought upon them and they should have to work together. Horses bridled and saddled, riders ready to fight through the storm, the group headed out into the freezing wind and the biting snowflakes. The inn was a happy memory as they forced their horses to trot against the wind. The snowflakes danced around the group wildly, nipping at cold, red noses and melting on any uncovered skin. The snow grew deeper as they went on, and even Jisela kept herself from daring to try and start a snowball fight again.
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...Come down now, they'll say. But everything looks perfect from far away - Come down now! But we'll stay. |
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#61 |
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
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Krosan cursed himself for letting his tears flow. As he was riding next to Jisela, he tried to shake the memory of her disturbed face of him. He looked side wards and saw her urging to get another snowball. Krosan's mood enlightened a bit at the memory of the snow he had sent up her nose. He raised himself to his full length again and looked at Jisela.
"Sorry about earlier. I will not mind if there is no tomorrow, for death itself is only a new adventure in my eyes. Wherever we go after dying, I know not. But I do know that my mother will be waiting there." "Glad you take it that way Krosan." Jisela said with a little smile. Krosan could not see it trough the snow and the dark. He just rode on for a while and said nothing. His horse was a bit warm from the stable and the man leaned over and patted his neck. Jisela was still riding on and sometimes Krosan caught her looking at him. He smiled, and apparently, she saw him and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "It will be fine Krosan. We will get those rats and finish em of for good." "Let us hope that it is allowed to kill them Jisela. Diplomacy can be a horrible thing." |
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#62 |
Maiden of Tears
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Riding alone, and thinking silently to herself, Rosanna looked around her. Although having talked to Reed, Eorlyn and Jisela, she hadn’t talked to any of the men on this journey yet. Strange, Ros thought to herself, since she generally preferred the company of men to women, Morgan being her only real female friend. Ros’ horse continued to walk through the falling snow – this was no time to be riding, surely. Ros still felt it would have been best to stay and ask around a bit, but seeing some of the tension this idea caused, she had felt it a good idea not to mention it again.
The snow kept whirling down, biting at Ros’ skin, despite wrapping her cloak tight around her. Her cheeks were soon tinged with pink, getting redder as the snow continued to drive at her face. It seemed the rest of the group were equally worse off, as they all seemed to be huddling from the snow, and desperately hoping to reach somewhere warm soon. It seemed a terrible thing to have been so warm back in the cosy inn, and then forced to go out into the freezing cold. Still, Ros consoled herself, trying not to grumble too much to herself, it was for good reason. In any case, the journey to the next inn could not be very long. A long journey in this weather would be suicide. Appeasing herself with this thought, she stared straight ahead of them, peering through the snow, and contented herself by thinking of the meal ahead of them, and hopefully a warm bed.
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'It must often be so, Sam, when things are in danger: someone has to give them up, lose them, so that others may keep them' ~Frodo "Life is hard. After all, it kills you." - Katharine Hepburn |
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#63 |
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
Join Date: Dec 2002
Location: Rivendell
Posts: 807
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By midnight, they had alread made a great distance. Eorlyn rode along next to Rhys, her breath appearing in front of her like smoke. It had stopped snowing sometime ao, and by now the sky was almost clear. Stars twinkled overhead, and in front of them the moon shown like a perfect fingernail. "What a beautiful night!" the girl exclaimed, sighing. The conversation had died out, most of the company was deep in thought, pondering and remembering alike. She studied Almarien´s face, who was clearly with his children now; his tender, proud look gave him away so easily. There was Ros, riding alone, musing and frowning from time to time. Krosan, looking proud and the same time odly vulnerable.
"Unless I am mistaken, there is a story behind all of us, Storm. I wonder what yours is?"she told her horse. Storm neighed softly, swiftly walking alone. Her mane blew into Eorlyn´s face, like a caress. Eorlyn felt her eyes fill with tears, tears of sadness, of shame, of love for this tall, beautiful animal, shaken by this simple gesture of understanding. Moments later, she noticed Rhys studying her. She wiped her eyes, smiling shyly. Please, let him smile back. I need a smile in this night. A smile....
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Love is a perky elf dancing a merry little jig and then suddenly he turns on you with a miniature machine gun. Blog :-)|FanFicDream City |
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