Last Ride of the Heir RPG

[piosenniel]

The Perky Ent's post

The summer’s sun blazed a gentle beam of light across Arathorn’s face. A cool wind was on the horizon. A peaceful tiding of leaves dancing in the wind as Arathorn walked into the courtyard. Rivendell’s beauty was beyond comprehension this time of year. Finding a small bench, Arathorn pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill. Gazing into the sky, blue with small clouds, Arathorn began to write a letter.

~*~

My dearest Gilraen,

I have reached Rivendell and I couldn’t be any happier. I haven’t located Elladan and Elrohir as yet, but I’m sure they’re around somewhere. How is our beloved baby? I’m sure Aragorn will turn out to be a great man. Something….a deep inner feeling, tells me his life will be a tale of ages. Though I have taken my last look into his eyes for a long time, I could see it. I still can’t believe he’s two years old and can already run so quickly. He’s a great boy. Take care of him, and yourself.

Arathorn paused for a minute, and then concluded:

I’ll be back as soon as the stars will allow. I love you Gilraen, so be careful.

With undying love,

Arathorn son of Arador

~*~

Arathorn took a while to seal the letter, and then summoned a Ranger admiring the Elvish architecture. “Borodun! Borodun! Borodun, come! I have a delivery for you. As I know you know, I said you could head back for The Angle as soon as we departed, but I need to get this letter back as fast as a dragon,” Arathorn said to the stout ranger by his side. “Ay sir! I’ll deliver it post haste. It was good to see you again. I’ll see you on your return?” Borodun said with a grin. “But of course Borodun! Now ride with the blessings of the Lost Kingdom and the glory of men!” Arathorn exclaimed with gusto. And with that, Borodun fetched his horse and departed from Rivendell.

“Now where are Elladan and Elrohir?” Arathorn said as he looked around. “They said they’d meet me in the royal courtyard. What’s taking them so long?” Arathorn pondered as he continued to look around. Just then, two arrows appeared in the ground, at his feet. “Did you miss me?” Arathorn said as he laughed. “Yes. Lucky for you we did miss you! How’ve you been Arathorn?” Elladan asked as he patted Arathorn on the back. “Like a king! How else!” Elrohir said with a great smile. “Not quite, gentlemen. Are you ready for the trip?” This question did nothing more than break the twins out in hysterics. “Ready? Oh course we’re ready!” Elladan said. “If I’m not ready, let’s see if I miss you!” Elrohir exclaimed. And as Elrohir reached back to pull an arrow, he felt something strange. What he felt, was nothing. His quiver was empty. Embarrassed, Elrohir ran to get more arrows. Elladan hit his hand on his face and said, “I’ll go with him, to spare you the trouble of humiliating him!” and then left.

Arathorn waiting for quite some time, became quite restless. So restless that he pulled out his sword and started preparing for the fights. Time waned. After an hour, Arathorn shouted with a great anger.

“Where are my Elves and Rangers!?!”

[piosenniel]

Arvedui’s post

The cool mist that comes before the dawn flitted its way into the locked chamber, blending with the warm musk of the room and the dying embers of the fire in the woven iron grate. In the dew there was a cold sighing feel, as a wet cloth must seem to a fevered man. And the relief the grey air brought was not wasted on the figure sitting in an oaken chair, encircled by tomes and lost in thought. To the unsuspecting eye the form was a man in the middle of his years, seeming very young and hale, yet worn and burdened with the knowledge of age as well, fingering a hansom blue ring on his right hand, his gray eyes gazing to some far away place.

That was, until two soft thumps tickled his sensitive ears and brought his eyes sharply into focus.

Elrond Peredhil let out a groan of frustration at the end of his reverie and was rewarded only by a quiet chuckle from the opposite end of the room where the disturbance has come from. "Diran le (I see you), Elladan." He called out wearily to the lithe already moving out of the shadows behind him.

"Forgive us Adar, but even I must make some noise to enter a barricaded study." Answered a new voice to his right, now coming into the flickering light of embers.

"I wish you would take the hint that a locked room implies." Elrond replied mutinously, but already he was smiling despite himself.

"I believe Elladan received all our lessons on locks and their implications, father." The right-hand figure, a tall and fair looking creature with mischievous gray eyes, continued in a tone of complete innocence. "And you know his hearing can be very selective at times. A most strange affliction."

"Besides," said Elladan, speaking up for the first time, with an amused lilt to his voice, "You enjoy the intrusion."

Elrond shook his head and rose languidly to face the figures. "My perceptive sons, what am I to do with you?"

"Sending us into the wild in the company of a bunch of scruffy rangers seems to be your favored solution." Elrohir remarked offhandedly as he sank unto a polished stool.

"Arathorn is here, then?" Elrond asked, more sternly than before. He frowned and his mind began to work frantically again. It would be soon, but if he them bereft of...

"You are not pleased at this?" Elladan asked with a concerned note in his voice.

"Nay, nay." Elrond answered, sighing and then forcing a smile. "What news from the Angle?"

"Much of the same." answered Elrohir. "There may be orcs massing near Angmar, but otherwise not a lot to note."

"Oh, but he does have a son now," Added Elladan as an afterthought. "Named Aragorn."

Elrond nodded, a mixture of relief and happiness flooding through him. "That is well. Arathorn will need an heir."

"You foresee him being even shorter lived than Arador?" Elladan questioned, and Elrond paused before he answered, knowing of the friendship between his son and the Dunadan.

"A storm is coming." He answered grimly, keenly aware of an invisible weight pressing down on him, and deeply saddened by its presence. "And if it passes, Arathorn will not live to see the light on the other side."

"The darkness may not descend for many lives of men yet." Elrohir said, trying to be optimistic.

"True, but enough of this." Elrond waved his hand and batted away the subject, judging that he could ignore it until he could find another quiet dawn in which to lock himself away and think. "I suppose you both intend to go with him on whatever new venture he's planning?" He asked as a matter of form, sad to see his sons leaving Imladris again but reconciled to their going.

"Aye, so long as there are orcs, we shall hunt them with any who go with us." Elladan answered, a quiet fury evident in his voice.

Elrond gave a melancholy smile, half lost in a memory, and then placed his hands on his sons' shoulders. "Go then. Namarie, iynn nin. Nai hiruvalye man faroth!(My sons! May it be you will find the hunting good)" They embraced, and Elladan and Elrohir left, unlocking the door as they went. Elrond gazed after them, thinking with a sudden, brutal clarity that this hunt would be more than any of them bargained for. He sank back down into the comfort of the books surrounding his chair and knew that for Arathorn, and his son after him, the darkness had dawned, and a war was beginning.

[piosenniel]

Eowyn Skywalker's post

The day was fair in Imladris; the wind rustled the trees and grass. It was fair and bright; all was quiet and peaceful. And in that time, Hanindur, son of Seragon sat, and watched the trees twitch in the wind.

"Why does the weather play such games, when peace is not to be found, and a shadow roams freely in the lands?" asked Hanindur softly. He sat in the shade of the peaceful trees, and watched. The sun shone brightly, and there was little shadow in the hidden valley, beyond that which lay under the trees.

Birds chirped, as if there was nothing in the world to fear. And they have little to fear, thought Hanindur. Why would they fear, when it is us, the men, and elves that must fear them. Anything could be a spy... who knows what watches in the dark shadows of time?

A cloud drifted over the sun, shadowing the area. It was but a cloud, nothing to be feared, but Hanindur jumped. Shadow... fear and doubt. There was something about the shadows that caused him fear now, ever since the death of his father.

It had been all dark that day, and though the sun still shone, it hung heavily, and darkly in his mind. And evermore his thoughts drifted to shadow, and to darkness... the past that was so dark to him now.
He fell into those dark thoughts, and drifted into a world that no longer existed to him, days before his father's death.

A voice cried out in anger.

Hanindur jumped, shaking himself out of his thoughts, and out of the dark times that he had been recalling. "Where are my elves and Rangers?!?" he heard someone shout. It was the voice of Arathorn.

He jumped up, and walked over to where he had heard the vioce shout, and Hanindur realized that much time had passed, as his shadow grew long as he stepped over to Arathorn. "I am here, if you wish for my help, Lord Arathorn," he said, his voice low. "Your Rangers have not abandoned you."

[piosenniel]

Mad Baggins' post

Beroth was enjoying his stay at Rivendell; he had never encountered Elves before and he loved learning about their ways and customs. The quiet, comfortable rooms were quite a difference from sleeping outside beneath the twinkling stars. He walked down the corridors silently, taking in the beauty of Rivendell as slowly as possible. He stopped to run his hand over an intricately carved pair of doors. The wood felt smooth and was a rich cream colour. Beroth was about to have a closer look when his keen ears caught a noise at the door. He sprang back and pretended to have been examining the wall as a young Elf maiden stepped out of the doorway and walked gracefully in the other direction.

Beroth sighed, feeling extremely foolish. The Elves were so eloquent and fair; sometimes he felt like a clumsy oaf in their presence. He walked further down the hallway, pausing every so often to look at a particular piece of art. Reaching a doorway that led to a balcony, Beroth stepped through it and into the bright afternoon sunlight. He leaned on the balustrade, breathing in the sweet air. Suddenly, his peace was disrupted by a loud roar from below.

"Where are my Elves and Rangers!?!"

Beroth groaned and hurried off the balcony, down the hallway and towards the courtyard from which the shout had come. When he passed through the gateway to the courtyard, Arathorn was indeed there. Beroth reached him and bowed, saying, "I am here, Lord Arathorn. What is your will?" He straightened up and gave Arathorn a winning smile.

[piosenniel]

ArwenBaggins' post

"Papa? Papa!" A small, black-haired girl tugged on the loose leggings of a tall man dozing in a chair overlooking a beautiful, gleaming city. "Papa, lookie wat I drew! See! It's Lord Arathorn an' you fightin' some orcs!" The girl pointed to some crudely drawn stick-men and dog-like crawling figures. The man smiled and rubbed his daughter's head as she continued more solemnly, "Mama 'tolded' me dat you're gonna leave us 'gain ta fight off some baddies… but she's lyin', isn't she?"

Eirian's smile faded quickly from his wrinkling face. He bent and sat the toddler in his lap. A cool morning breeze drifted in through the balcony. It ruffled the silken nightgown of his young tot, making her giggle. He watched as Elves glided across a bridge a little way off- some were in armor. "No Evelyn, she's not lying. It will be two mornings from now, I regret to say. Darkness is stirring…" His deep eyes drifted away for a moment, but a creak of the tree growing through the middle of the room brought him back to reality. "Although, you are only four, you wouldn't understand. Why don't you go find Mama and we'll help her make breakfast," He smiled again and sat her on the dusty ground.

The girl smiled and nodded, waddling past the large tree and disappearing behind a satin curtain. Eirian stood and followed, adjusting the sword at his belt. After pushing back the lavender veil, he was met by a slender woman with a large stomach. "Good Morning Lovely," Eirian kissed the top of his woman's head and started cutting a loaf of bread. The world was good at now, if only then.

~*~*~*~

By mid-noon two days later, a modest pile of supplies was sitting just inside of the room. Evelyn was crying and rubbing her eyes on her mother's skirt. Eirian embraced them both and put his pack over his cloak, stepping out of the door. "Fear not for me, my dears. I will return, and peace will be restored. I love you both," He kissed his wife and hugged his teary-eyed daughter once more, adjusting his knapsack and putting a hand on the hilt of his sword.

He took his time getting to the royal courtyard. While he was ever avid to start killing the blasted beasts, he felt a deep quilt inside leaving his four-year-old daughter and a wife that could give birth to his third child within a month.

“Where are my Elves and Rangers!?!” Eirian heard this shouted as he entered the yard. He saw Arathorn standing with his sword unsheathed and in front of the other Dunadan.

"Come now Arathorn," Eirian unveiled his sword as well and steadied the blade. "We can not have you in a bad mood… have you see Elladan and Elrohir? They passed my door earlier, but I haven't seen them since," He shrugged and swung his sword over his head, practicing his swift killing strokes.

Eirian again sheathed his sword, sighing and finding a nearby stone bench to sit on. He flicked a piece of dark hair from his face and began, "Those fellows must think we are Elves as well; they are taking quite an eternity!"

[piosenniel]

Hama of the Riddermark's post

Owacyn lay on the couch in his room. He looked up at the elf-wrought ceiling and smiled, it was fascinating. He was trying to distract himself with nice things, as he had a bad feeling in his gut about this attack. No matter how hard he tried to dissmiss it it always came back, snapping at his heels and stalking his every step. He constantly thought about Gwendalyne back in Gondor, and his unborn infant. He hoped it would be a son, but right now he doubted if he would be around to see his child born and grow. He wished he could, he wanted to teach him how to ride and fight, to shoot a bow and wield a sword. He sighed as he lay there. So many things were uncertain at this time.

He was just drifiting off to sleep, pondering this venture some more, when he heard Elrohir running past his window, cursing at himself in elvish. He smiled. Elrohir was a good friend and a fine bowman, even if he was prone to make a fool of himself occasionally. He drifted off to sleep, a few of his trepidations were gone, after all he'd be riding with the dunedain's finest, and the sons of Elrond himself. Somewhat content, he closed his eyes...

"Where are my elves and rangers!"

Owacyn sighed as he opened his sleepy eyes, swinging his feet off the bed he slipped his boots on. He slowly walked and stepped out of the door. After all, an hour was a short time really..."I'm here, my Lord" he said almost resignedly. Arathorn scowled at his manner, but did not say anything.

Owacyn sat down on a step and took a long, slender pipe out of his belt and stuffed it with weed. He lit it and sucked in deep, blowing smoke rings as he let it out of his mouth. He was slightly irritated that Arathorn had shouted so loudly, he had been enjoying a nice rest. Maybe he was a little too eager. He lay back and looked up at the sky. "Owacyn!" snapped the voice of Arathorn, "Get up!". Owacyn sighed and raised himself to his feet. "Yes, Lord Arathorn." he said as he went over and stood by the banister, looking out at the waterfall in Rivendell. He saw Elrohir running back, his quiver bristling with arrows, and a few even tucked into his belt, he grinned. "A little over enthusiatic, Elrohir?"

[piosenniel]

Phervasaion's post

Paladir looked up through the wavering trees at the sun rays beaming down onto the floor, and he smiled. “It is a beautiful day to start a journey,” he said aloud to himself. “Let’s hope the rest of my days will be as beautiful.” He looked upwards towards Imladris and had to stop for a while to gaze upon its beauty. He had never seen the place before and, to him it seemed that the sun was shining stronger there than anywhere else around and he may have even dared to call the place a heaven.

Paladir shook his head thinking he had strayed into some sort of dream, but the beauty of the place was more real than anything he had seen in his dreams before. The Ranger had been travelling for some hours without rest towards his destination of Imladris and was feeling weary from his trek through the wilderness. He sat down and set his back up against a tree a began to drink some water out of his flask, and after only a couple of minutes he set of again, heading up the slopes towards the gates of Rivendell. Paladir held a great respect for Arathorn and did not want to be late for the beginning of the journey.

He was making great pace up the slopes as he had a feeling that something was drawing him towards the great Elven city. Even as he reached the borders of Rivendell he heard a cry of anger towards the courtyard.

“Where are all my Elves and Rangers!?!”

‘Oh no, don’t tell me im late’ thought Kaladir as he began to sprint up the steps towards the royal courtyard. When he got to the top there were four Rangers standing. One was of course the great Arathorn II, the others were called Hanindur, Beroth and Eirian who were all great Rangers, but Paladir did not know them well.

Paladir walked swiftly to greet Arathorn. “I heard your call sire,” Paladir said as he bowed down. “And I have come to answer that call.” He looked up and smiled at all the Rangers standing about him.

[piosenniel]

Saraphim's post

Smiling good-naturaly, Elrohir went to the armory and stuffed his quiver nearly to the breaking point. His brother stood off to the side, still laughing quietly at Elrohir's earlier embarassment.

"You, dear, brother, should not be laughing," said Elrohir. "You aught to remember Arathorn's impression of you when you eat."

"Are you a fool, Elrohir?" said Elladan, who laughed even harder. "You eat the same way!"

"Yes, but I do not drink like a dwarf after every bite."

This caused Elladan to stop giggling insessently and poke at Elrohir's pride back.

They continued to squabble while donning thier armour and strapping on thier other weapons.

Walking slowly out through the halls, the twins were on the verge of grappling to relieve thier brotherly love when they heard Arathorn's exasparated cry.

"Where are my Elves and Rangers?"

Laughing at something other than each other, they, sped up and met the Chief of the Rangers who was looking impatiently around.

"My dear friend," said Elrohir, "You should not rush Elves, not all of our people are as eager to wander as we are, and Men would stay in lovely Imladris until time ended, if it were allowed."

Arathorn smiled wanly and called again, with an order attached for his comfortable rangers.

[piosenniel]

astarielle's post

For what seemed like the fortieth time Elladan checked once more that he was ready. The day was still, with numerous birds flying in the sky like specks on a carpet of azure blue. Many remained unseen, but not unheard, in the depths of the trees having glorious conversations with each other. He stood in the courtyard amoung many Elves and Men all united by one cause, joined together by single foundation. He turned around an traced every contour of the Homely House, as he had done many times before, as if etching it into his mind, not one arch or doorway to be forgotten.

The twins had entered the courtyard enthusiastically some minutes before. "I do not doubt the honesty of men, for that is the basis of living in communities. What I do doubt is their time-keeping!" He replied to a ranger standing near him.

Elrohir and Elladan had answered Arathorns call readily, and needed no encouragement or persuasion. If there was one sole thing they hated in life, if it is at all possible for Elves to 'hate', in human terms, it would be orcs.

[piosenniel]

Will Witfoot's post

The light of the morning sun gilded the scented garden's of the hidden valley, Imladris, and radiated from the robes of a lonely figure seated under a tree, making him appear as made of light himself. Then the wind granted the gardens it's chill kiss and the figure drew it's grey cloak around itself, dimming the light, and revealling a lithe, gaunt elf staring thoughtfully into the waters of the river Loudwater flowing past Rivendel, the Last Homely House East of the Sea.

Cerímb watched her son, her only child, sitting all alone with the same air of melancholy around him that had marked his life since he was born. When not practising with the sword or poring over the many tomes of the libraries, he could be found seated deep in thought, usually as far away from others as possible. Few were those whose company could provide him with any joy.
Desspite all the years of having to live with the knowledge of her son's dissability, Cerímb could not stop a tear from trickling onto her cheek.
As if sensing the presence of his mother, Eldín turned. Seeing her standing there, he got up from where he had been sitting, his cloak oppening to reveal an elegant blade seathed by his side. Realizing that his mother was crying Eldín embraced her, gently wiping away the tears that fell silently to Cerímb's cheek's.

'Is it time?' Eldín asked, using the peculiar mode of communicating through gestures that he had been taught since he was a small child.

Cerímb nodded. 'Yes, Arathorn is leaving. They will be waiting for you.' She knew that her son could read her lips, but she preffered using the same way of communication that Eldín himself used, when conversing with him.

Eldín leaned forward to kiss his mother on the brow. 'Fear not, mother. I will return as certainly as the sun rises.'

He turned from her and begun to walk towards the courtyard where he knew the warriors would assemble. Cerímb watched her son go, before bursting into tears.

[piosenniel]

bilbo_baggins' post

Angakemion could feel the mists of morning rising before any could see it happen. Imladris was as beautiful as ever, with the snow melting in the Misty Mountains, and the water running down to join the river, and ultimately, the Western Sea.

The Rangers that had come a while back were leaving again, soon. He was going with them. He could hardly remember the frenzied events that had precluded the departure. He could feel the excitement charging the air, and giving it that slightly reddish hue that came just before a great battle.

He was excited about going, and he hoped the departure, which he could feel was entirely to imminent to communicate, would come quickly. He hurriedly went to his room, and gathered his packed things. His father entered.

"Father, I have no time to waste, the Rangers will leave soon. I hope I can still go."

"My son, do not fear. They will not leave without you. Now come and embrace me for the last time, my dear Anga!"

Their joyous hug was cut short as Anga realized he needed to leave, and quickly.

"Father, I hate to leave Imladris, especially since I wish to court a woman. But the time for love and affection has past, and battle looms on out horizon. I must go."

"Then leave with my blessing, son. I shall miss thee, and pray for your return."

With that, Anga left to go down to where the party was gathering.

[piosenniel]

Potatothon's post

Nuwethion was checking his equipent in front of the mirror and adjust his bracer by fiddling with it for a few seconds. He wiped the braids of his shoulders and went to the hallway where Iarbrethil was waiting for him. They did not need words for this parting, for they both knew it was for just a short time. They embraced and he kissed her forehead. She stroke his face for just a second and then he turned and went out into the open air. He turned around once more and gave her a meaningfull look.

"Abedithon le." Nuwethion said.

His wife's eyes lit up for a short second and Nuwethion walked out into the cool breeze that met his faze. Nuwethion decided to take it slowly, for their was no need to rush trough rivendell. And that way he could see the beautifull landscape, though many times encounter, never boring. The sound of the Bruinen sang in his ear and birds sang their songs. Nuwethion himself sang as he went and as he arrived near the courtyard he heard the heir Isildur raizing his voice above bird, river and leaf.

"Where are my Elves and Rangers?"

A few seconds later, men and elves came and reported to him. And as he was a few steps away from the yard, the sons of Elrond arrived.

"My dear friend," said Elrohir, "You should not rush Elves, not all of our people are as eager to wander as we are, and Men would stay in lovely Imladris until time ended, if it were allowed."

"Indeed they would. And even though some of the elves are eager to go, I for one was listening to the songs of trees and birds. Harsh was the sound that disturbed it, although the reason appolagizes for it. Be at ease. All will arrive at the apointed time. They promized remember?" Nuwethion said with a much-saying smile.

[The Perky Ent]

Almost instantly, ten people answered Arathorn's cry. Five elves and Five Rangers. "Finally, now, let us look upon our party. Elves, these are some of my most trusted rangers. Let's see here. Here is Hanindur and Beroth" Arathorn said as the men known as Hanindur and Beroth gave a small bow. And now, Eirian, Owacyn, and Paladir!" Arathorn said as three men stepped foward, gave a short bow, and stepped back. "Well, there's our men, now tell me twins, who are you bringing?"

"Ah yes." Elladan said as he looked around behind him, "This is Cerímb! But only, she isn't here due to her skill." "Yes. Here's the real warrior! My son!" Cerímb said, revealing a strong, able looking elf. "This is Eldín. He is strong, but there's a catch." Cerímb said with a sigh. "And that catch would be..." Arathorn said. "Well, he's a deaf mute. But just as strong as any other man. Fear not, for he will prove himself." "I'm sure he will, now, who are the others?"

This time it was Elrohir to took a step foward. "This is Angakemion. We like to call him Anga. And last but not least, Nuwethion!" Elrohir said, revealing each elf. Each and every person in the quartyard had a different reaction to each race. It wasn't exactly the best combination, but it would prove.

"Well, there are matters I must attend to with Elrond. Now, why do you men, and elves for that matter, get to know each other a little bit better!" as Arathorn left, the men began to sit down and talk.

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Arathorn went to leave, and stepped away, to speak to the Lord Elrond. Hanindur looked around at those who were to be his companions. Five men, and five elves, himself included.

Hanindur sat down, much like he had sat earlier, beneath the wind-shook trees. And the day was fair and calm still, though a cloud shadowed over the sun, dimming the light a small bit. Shadows seemed to creep from beneath them, though Hanindur knew that it was but an illusion.

A slight wind rustled the branches, and the trees seemed to whisper in the wind; the day was a fine day, and a fine day to set out from Rivendell, the day was worthy of their leave-taking, though Imladris was a lovely place to be on such a fine day.

The clouds drifted apart, setting light once again over the whispering trees, and it's fair beauty seemed to make Rivendell look even fairer then before. The elven kind was lucky to be able to dwell within such a lovely location. It was not the fate of the Rangers to sit in one place for long.

Hanindur studied the faces of his fellow Rangers, Beroth he knew, for they were, as Arathorn had said, his most trusted Rangers. And by sight, he knew Paladir as well. The other two were not known to him, though there was a familiar feel to all the Rangers, as, in a manner, they were his kin.

The elves too, some he knew, others, not. Being that he had spent much time in Imladris, many of the elves were familiar to him, though not always did he know their names, as to their faces.

The others talked quietly, but Hanindur tended to be silent, a quieter person. So he sat on the green grass, and looked around at the others, burning their faces into his memory.

[Potatothan]

"Well, there are matters I must attend to with Elrond. Now, why do you men, and elves for that matter, get to know each other a little bit better!"

Nuwethion smiled at Arathorn's words. He sat himself down on a nearby bench. Hanindur was a bit apart from the rangers. He looked at him and Hanindur smiled.

"So, we are left here like youngsters when the adults are talking about the important matters and we must get to know each other and be friends. Like many of us aren't already that. How are you young master Hanindur?"Nuwethion asked the man.

"Well, as good as you can be in these times."Hanindur replied.

[Eowyn Skywalker]

"So, we are left here like youngsters when the adults are talking about the important matters and we must get to know each other and be friends," said Nuwethion, with a fairly good point, in Hanindur's opinion. "Like many of us aren't already that. How are you young master Hanindur?" he asked, directing the question towards Hanindur.

It took Hanindur a moment to realize that Nuwethion was talking to him. "Well, as good as you can be in these times." he replied. Continuing, he went on: "But is it easy to be good in these times. They are hard upon us all, is that not it? There is always a darkness now." His voice was low, and dark; he spoke the thoughts of them all, for at times, every one of them had thought that very thing. There was always a shadow now.

The trees were obvilious to this fact, they rustled in the wind without any notice of the shadows that always seemed to creep up upon them. Though the day was fair, and the sunlight bright, and unshadowed, there was the seeeming of a shadow that was inevitable to escape. And Hanindur's words just made it seem even darker, though the light was still strong.

Seemingly, it was too hard for even him, a hardened Ranger, to think of, for that was surely was his mind was upon, for too long. "And what of you, master Nuwethion?" he asked, trying to bring a level of cheer to his voice, but failing in his attempt. "How are you fairing in these days of darkness?"

[Will Witfoot]

Not for the first time in his life, Eldín felt like he was all alone, cut off from the world. It would have made no difference had he been standing alone in a withered glade instead of this company of rangers and his kin. Without the presence of his mother, no light would have shone to mark his path.

He turned to her, studying the eyes which had the look of one who had recently wept. He felt a pang of quilt at the sight of his mother's sadness, and like so many times before he pondered if the quilt he felt at his parent's anguish was just. After his early childhood, not a tear had flown for himself. All his pity had been directed at his mother and father.
As if feeling her son's eyes upon herself, Cerímb turned her head to answer his gaze. Their eyes met and she smiled, a loving smile that sent all of Eldín's doubt back into the shadows.
Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder. He whirled around to see Elríng, his father, standing behind him. Eldín bowed to him.

Elríng studied his son with an expression of pride on his face. Born without hearing or the skill of speech, no-one had expected Eldín to ever ammount to naught other but a burden for other's. Yet here he was, a tall and able warrior, as worthy as any to face down any enemy. Elríng smiled and embraced his son. Releasing him, he spoke in the silent tongue he and his wife always used with Eldín.

'Hail, Eldín, my son! Tall have you grown and strong is your arm this day, the day you have long awaited. I am proud of you.'

[Potatothan]

"How are you fairing in these days of darkness?" Hanindur asked.

Nuwethion smiled at the man. His sharp glance went to a gaze for a few seconds and then he looked back at Hanindur.

"Well, I'm just what I have always been. Not troubled by the troubles of outside. How can anyone be sad when he dwells in the house of Elrond? No my friend, the evil must have indeed grown very big if it wants to trouble me."Nuwethion said with a wink.

His gaze went of the ranger and looked around at the trees who were wispering all the news they had found in their wize roots. His gaze went from the trees to the sky and Nuwethion's face got a bit grimmer.

"I wonder how long my mind will stay without trouble."He said to himself.

[bilbo_baggins]

"Well, there are matters I must attend to with Elrond. Now, why do you men, and elves for that matter, get to know each other a little bit better!" Arathorn then went to go talk to Lord Elrond. Some time would certainly pass before they would depart.

A while later, Anga saw the touching moment passing between father and son, wishing he could talk to the Elf. He looked like a good person to have as a friend, and a terrible one as an enemy.

Walking up to the pair, he quietly noticed the strange, fleeting expressions on the faces of them both. He noted several, and hoped to remember them so that he could perhaps talk to, what was his name again, Eldín, that was it. Hopefully, they could be friends, as he was a loner in his own right, as well.

Standing with an expression of interest and awe is sure to get you noticed sooner or later, and so it did. The father of Eldín glanced over and saw that Anga was watching them. He came over and talked.

"Hello," he said, "Have we met? I am Elríng, Eldín's father. Have you two met?"

"Hello," Anga replied, "And no, I have not had the pleasure of meeting you or your son yet. I would welcome the opportunity to, though."

As Elríng relayed the information, Anga watched the expression of happiness creep in on Eldín's face. He seemed pleased that someone would like to talk with him. Angakemion could have just burst with pleasure, he was so happy. He and Eldín were going to be friends.

[ArwenBaggins]

"Well, there are matters I must attend to with Elrond. Now, why do you men, and elves for that matter, get to know each other a little bit better!" Eirian grinned contently and found a nearby stone bench to sit on.

Everyone seemed very shy and nervous to begin conversation. Eirian was usually a very talkative man, but he was deep in thought as he had been often of late. I would bet that Arathorn and I are the only married men here…, He was going to call that bet, but in the current quiet state he decided not to- a very rare occurrence for the Dundain.

A brisk morning wind stirred in the trees and open courtyards, momentarily blotting out the scarce voices of his fellow companions. As he stood, Eirian noticed the Elf that was incapable of speech, Eldìn being slowly 'talked' to by another Elf that seemed to be his father. Suddenly, a obstreperous giggle was drifting below him. Turning at the odd noise, he saw little Evelyn standing with a bouquet of flowers near his feet.

"Papa, I wan'ed ta tell ya goodbye one more time, 'fore ya left. Mama told me ta come down here real quick so no one can 'nap me," utter stillness drifted over the men as they noticed the small black-haired girl still dressed in her nightgown. "I picked some flowers for everyone- Mama says dat 'day bring good luck an' happiness in travel. Can I pwease give'm ta all of your friends?" The girl's adorable pucker made it impossible to say no.

Eirian smiled and rubbed the small girl's head, taking her hand and leading her to each of the soldiers in turn. She smiled and said hello to everyone separately, giving them a small blue flower as a gift. As Eirian led her last to Arathorn, her pudgy chin dropped in awe. She blushed as Arathorn smiled back to her while accepting a large purple flower graciously. "Well, I love ya Papa. I hope all of ya come back real soon after killin' all dem baddies," She handed the final flower to Eirian, a daisy.

"Thank you Evelyn. Tell Mama that I will miss her dearly and that I love her. Goodbye, my daughter," the last sentence was drawn out as long as one breath would allow. The girl's bright gray eyes swelled with tears, but she fought them off proudly. Kissing his cheek when he kneeled, she sniffled and ran back toward their dwelling.

Hanindur smiled and said from behind Eirian: "You have a wonderful daughter," with that, the other man turned and continued to converse with someone unknown to Eirian. He watched his daughter disappear in the trees, his hand on the hilt of the large broadsword he called his own. The flower in his hand swayed in the breeze; his family was what he was fighting for.

[The Perky Ent]

A warm light brushed against Arathorn's eyes as he began to talk to Elrond. "Your sons seem ready. They have selected a good batch of warriors. It looked so good I might go so far to say there won't be a single orc left west of the Misty Mountains!" Arathorn said as he gave a smile. Elrond gave a thin grin. "Well, that is why we're here, isn't it?" Elrond said. There was a long silence. In the distance, Arathorn could hear the men talking.

"Well, I must ask that you see us off! It will be a strugle, so please make sure we leave with a bang. I've been talking to the residents, and they think a party is in order! May you grant us the privilage?" Arathorn said, giving a loving face. Elrond was silent, but after a moment gave a loud exhale and said, "Of course!"

[Saraphim]

Elrohir had been speaking softly with Elladan, before something struck his ears.

"A party," he said to his brother, and immediatly looked to his father and Arathorn, who were still talking.

Elrohir came up to them smiling. "Parties are not the best way to go about hunting the minions of evil. Or so it has been my opinion." he said, "But I am certainly willing to see if one can boost the energy and morale of our hunters."

Elrond and Arathorn smiled, and Arathorn said:

"Lord Elrond has graciously allowed us to have a small party, yes."

"Ah Ada, you are kind. I wish you would throw a celebration every time Elladan and I left. We might be hunting much more often!"

[astarielle]

Elladan smiled, for Elrond to allow even a small party was some feat! He gazed around the group assembled, many men united. The Elf was pleased, so many people from so many places yet all seem together somehow. He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, just to make sure that it was still there.

In his heart Elladan was pleased, the strengths of men, coupled with that of the Elves would be an unbeatable force, a purge to all who are unfortunate to stand in their path. He wandered away from his brother into the huddle of men gathered there.

He saw one man, looking as though his mind was elsewhere, deep in thought. Elladan recalled his name as being Eirian. He walked softly up to the ranger, then nodded in polite greeting, "A star shines on the hour of our meeting, well met my friend". He said half in Elvish and half in the the tongue of men.

[Phervasaion]

Paladir watched as Arathorn walked of to talk with Elrond about the setting off of the journey. Paladir did not know how well this new adventure would go, whether it would be just another quest in the many Paladir had already had, or whether it would be his final battle in the growing darkness of middle-earth. Either way, the Ranger knew it would be one of the greatest he ever had.

Paladir looked up into the pale blue sky pondering these thoughts when suddenly he felt a light tug on his right arm. He looked down to see a small girl standing there with a beaming smile and a small blue flower in her hand.

“Hello sir,” she said in a shy manner. “I brought you a flower so you an the otha men have good luck on your adventure.” Paladir smiled and accepted the small flower with great happiness. The little girl walked off and Paladir held the flower up to his nose. He could tell the flower was from Rivendell as the scent was more beautiful than anything he had come across in the wild before and he felt that the refreshing scent had lifted his heart.

He looked back to see the girl with tears in her eyes while speaking to her father Eirian, whom he knew he had seen before. The little girl ran off and her father was left standing there, and he seemed to be proud of his daughter for what she had done.

Paladir walked of to Eirian and smiled. “Your child is extremely kind and giving,” he began. “To be honest, if I were you I would find it difficult to take leave of a family in such times. I admire your strength to do so.”

[Potatothan]

Nuwethion looked down at the small child that handed out the flowers to all the men and elves. He looked down as she offered him one. He bowed down to accept the flower. Then he bowed again, took the child at the sides of her head, and gave her a kiss on her forehead.

"Hanon le little one. My son is not yet as old as you are, but when he will reach your age, I hope he will have the same joy and happiness as you posses." Nuwethion said with a kind smile.

The little girl giggled shyly and went to the others to give them a flower. Eirian looked in Nuwethion's direction and gave the elf a meaningfull look. The little girl sobbed when she last spoke to her father. One of the men walked up to Eirian.

“Your child is extremely kind and giving,” he began. “To be honest, if I were you I would find it difficult to take leave of a family in such times. I admire your strength to do so.” Paladir said.

Nuwethion smiled in himself, but he also knew the grief that Eirian was experiencing. He had left many times, but now that his child was born, it was much more difficult. He also felt sorry for the other men who did not have children, for leaving the blessed realm of Rivendell was on itself extremely hard. Leaving behind famely and friends was even more difficult. He also felt sorry for Eirian. His daughter being blessed by all the men must have been his biggest wound so far. Nuwethion promised himself he would see Eirian return, even if it would mean leaving everything behind but his bones.

He was still looking at the flower and after studying it, he braided it in the braid next to his ear. It was good to have a bit of Rivendell with him. A bit of home.

[Hama Of The Riddermark]

Owacyn was standing distant from the group, he looked into the sky, searching for some trace in the heavens that might permit a favourable journey. Seeing none he scowled and turned away, walking back to The group. He turned to talk to Elladan. "Elladan, I've been scanning the skies. Nothing gives us good fortune. I have a bad feeling about this whole enterprise." Elladan laughed, "Don't be such a grumpy old bastard Owacyn. My father knows what he's doing. He wouldn't let us go if he'd seen something bad in store for us." A weak smile crossed Owacyn's face as he nodded. "I suppose you're right. I shouldn't be worrying so much, I'd just rather be sure." Elrohir nodded and interjected, "I agree with Owacyn, it would be better to have a clear mission. As it is we don't have the first clue how many uruks there are, or where they are." Elladan muttered something in quenya and walked off the the balcony.

Owacyn turned to see Elrond and Arathorn talking in hushed voices and a flicker of aprehension crossed his face. Perhaps Elrond had seen something and just hadn't told anyone. But that was crazy, he trusted Elrond more than anyone else and had great faith in his judgement. He looked over to the waterfall and saw Glorfindel riding his horse back. He smiled, he felt reassured that Glorfindel was here, after all he was a great fighter, if a little unreachable sometimes...

[Arvedui III]

Elrond, the last of his resolve falling away, finally abandoned his study to see what exactly Arathorn had planned. It was more or less a formality as the twins had already told him all he needed to hear; But he felt compelled to see the Dunedain, as they were taking his elves with on Arathorn's newest venture, and, he reminded himself painfully, every quest could be their last. He descended a set of stairs and walked slowly into the main garden, his eyes taking in sights already long memorized. However he found there was always extreme joy in walking among the greenery. It made him feel young again. At this, Elrond chuckled to him. I am getting old indeed. He shook his, consoling himself in the fact the Cirdan was probably twice as old as he. "I must see him again" He thought aloud, nodding politely to several passers-by with all the grace and severity of the lord of Imladris. Inside, however, Elrond was thinking of a rather unsavory night in Lindon that he had passed with the shipwright, wanting to forget about the matter entirely.

There were times when he wished the memory of the Eldar was not so keen.

Elrond smiled as he came upon Arathorn and his rangers gathered around him. He looks a little like Elros sometimes. The beard, perhaps. Eru only knows he would never let me forget he could grow one. Stroking his own smooth chin as he greeted the Dunedain, Elrond's smile only widened as he talked with Arathorn. The man was always eager for anything, it seemed. Certainly, if the residents thought he deserved a party, it was the least he could do. Elrond's mind began eagerly taking to the proposal, working it around his brain, ideas and tasks flashing before him that he barely had time to acknowledge. And striding back into his home, Elrond hurried to begin the first of them.
-------------
To his mind, the work had gone off well. Elrond stood looking around the Hall of Fire, his back resting comfortably against the southern wall, waiting for Elladan to herd the Dunedain and the elves going with him into the hall. A veritable sensory of good smells and colorful foods lay spread on the tables in front of him, the warm crackling of fires adding to the lull of the water that flowed through Rivendell. When the troop of elves and rangers entered, it was to his extreme pleasure that their collective jaw seemed to drop open in surprise.

Obviously, they had most the like been expecting just a simple meal laid out before them, and not the long dining tables, good chairs and silverware, candles, servants to procure more food should they desire, and many elves of Imladris dressed in their finest robes to bid farewell to the Dunedain. Elrond warmly gestured them all to sit down at the main table and took his place at the head. The honorary party still showed naught but surprise as they sat; And Elrond detected something that disturbed him in their expressions, but pushed it aside. The many elves gathered at side tables while Elladan, Elrohir, Arathorn and the rest of the hunting party just look and him in disbelief. A silence fell, and Elrond cleared his throat, saying, "I have only two words that would carry any meaning with you all tonight, so I will leave all others aside. Eat well!" There was an appreciative chuckle and most started to doll food onto their plates. A few of the rangers still hesitated, though, and so Elrond called for some of their crude ale to put them at ease.

He would greatly regret it.

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Sudden shock hit Hanindur like a knife. Lord Elrond was hosting a party?! Well, that was a shock to him, as he had been expecting no more than a simple meal before they set out, not a feast! It must've been Lord Arathorn's idea, he thought, knowing well enough that Elrond was not the type to host a party, and certainly not for such a simple time as this. There was no reasoning for the feast, but Hanindur was not going to be the one to complain. He was the first to appreciate a good meal any day.

"I have only two words that would carry any meaning with you all tonight," said Elrond, clearing his throat to catch the attention of the shocked, and deeply un-at-ease Rangers, "so I will leave all others aside. Eat well!"

Hanindur was, indeed, appreciative of the order, as was shown by his low chuckle. Though he was still wary about the whole idea, he began to eat willingly enough. Food took his mind off of the troubles of the world around him, though a mug of ale would've done just that as well. It was a pleasant enough surprise, nonetheless. The wind whistled in the trees outside of the House of Elrond, but within, all was merry, though the faint howling was audible through the stone walls.

Hanindur stroked his chin thoughtfully when Elrond choose to call for ale to be served out. This was completely unlike the elven lord, but Hanindur did not mind one bit. No, not one bit at all.

[Mad Baggins]

Beroth was elated to find that Lord Elrond was putting on a party in honour of their quest. He stepped into the Hall of Fire and his breath was taken away by the beautiful decorations, silverware and food. He was filled with a sense of anxiety and nervousness, feeling too rough and unclean for such gorgeous surroundings. Elrond bid them sit at a long table covered in plates of delicious-looking and -smelling foods. He then said, "I have only two words that would carry any meaning with you all tonight, so I will leave all others aside. Eat well!"

Beroth chuckled, feeling all nervousness wash away, and reached for a platter heaped with slices of thick bread. Taking a bite of one, he realized that it was the best bread he had ever eaten. He hungrily devoured the rest of the slice and reached for another. While he was eating, he heard Elrond call for some crude ale. A wide grin spread across his face as Elven servant appeared with tankards of ale. He gratefully accepted his and silently toasted Elrond before draining it dry.

The ale coursed down his throat and settled in his stomach, filling it with a kind of happy warmth. Beroth smiled, feeling his cares disappear, and thought what a kind and generous man - er, Elf - Elrond was.

[The Perky Ent]

A large amound of food plummited down Arathorn's throat. Seven different meals were on Arathorn's plate as he guzzled down some ale began to laugh. Although it was just a dinner, the participants were cheery. Arathorn watched as several of the men gorged down their food. The elves, although posessing better manners, quickly ate as much as the men.

As Arathorn stuffed a large piece of meat into his mouth, Elrond stood up. He had much poise as he got up and, as it seamed, glided over to a group of elves. The group moved foward, with their hands behind their back. As they moved in, Elladan gave a great laugh. "Now this is a real treat!" he said as the elves revealed instruments. They were a band. Elrond waited for silence, and when there was, he noded.

At once, an uproar of music came across the table as the party watched their entertainment. One of the elves were even singing. It was a soft melody, although a fast tempo. As Arathorn listened to the music, he began drinking more and more ale. But not just Arathorn. All the men began drinking, as if hypnotized by the music. As a fiddle began to play, Arathorn began to clap to the rhythm.

Arathorn, being consumed by the music and the ale, got up and began clapping. When the elf started singing again, Arathorn started to sway. Observing Arathorn with confusion, Elrond looked up at Arathorn. He was puzzled why he was stopping this nice dinner of his. After a minute of clapping, Arathorn had another drink, and then began to dance.

As he danced, the other men watched. Some of them even clapped. It went on and on and on, until Arathorn went to one of the elves, and asked curtiously, if she wanted to dance. "I promise i'm not a bad dancer. I just want to put more fun in the party." Arathorn said. The elf maiden looked at him, and then at another at her side, and then got up. "Ok, I'll dance." She said as he began to dance with Arathorn.

After a breif time of dancing, Beroth, also being consumed by ale, got up, and asked an elf maiden to dance. Now there were to people dansing, which Elrond did not like. Elrond forseed the night wouldn't end the way he planned it!

[ArwenBaggins]

Eirian took a deep drink of his ale, washing the glorious tasting food down his throat. The prospect of Lord Elrond throwing a party baffled him, but he decided not to ruin a good thing.

The music started to pick up, so Eirian he stood and rounded the table. A few Elf-maidens were standing or sitting i na few various places in the room; he laughed heartfully and approached one, telling himself that he was just dancing with her for fun. "May I have this dance m'lady?" he asked in a false-snoddy tone, making the beautiful woman giggle. She took his hand and Eirian led her onto the floor.

While not completely drunk, Eirian was a little full of the beer. He danced happily with the woman, every once and a while switching partners with another one of the Men. He saw Lord Elrond sitting with another group of Elves in one corner, talking solemnly with a grim look on his face. He knew this wasn't what Elrond had originally planned.

[astarielle]

Elladan chuckled to himself, not thinking much of the rangers' dancing. He thought he could do much better himself. So, he turned to Lord Elrond and inclined his head in the direction of the dancers asking for permission. Lord Elrond gave a slight nod and at once a grin appeared over Elladan's face. He took one more gulp of ale, stood up proudly and walked over to the group of Elves.

He bowed politely to a fair-haired elf in a blue shimmering dress. Then extended his hand and asked her to dance, “Would you do me a great honour and join me in this dance?” The question needed no answer as the maiden took his hand and he led her to a space in the hall.

They moved as if the music was made by them, spinning away to returning once more. Their feet barely touched the ground and not once did their gaze’s part. The dance was more akin to that of birds, gliding and soaring were the air would take them. As the music stopped, the pair came gracefully to the end of their enchanting dance. He bowed once more, a smile on his face. Elladan turned to his brother almost inciting him to do better, then to his father looking for that recognition of achievement.

“No eagle could have been more graceful than you fair maiden, I thank thee once more.” Said Elladan as the pair smiled and parted. Elladan resumed his place at the table.

[Saraphim]

Elrohir watched the rangers and soon the elves stand and invite nearly every elf-maiden in the hall to accompany them to the music. Even his brother was caught up in the revelry, a rarity indeed, and was soon in the middle of the floor, slashing down the dance floor with a beutiful elven girl.

The song stopped and Elladan met his eyes, with an unspoken challenge in his smile.

It was: Go ahead, dear brother. Best me, if you can.

Elrohir smiled and drained his flagon of the odd tasting mannish ale. He knew what the challenge was simply because, had the positions been reversed, he would have issued the same one.

The problem was that the elf-maidens who had not already danced were in short supply. Elrohir scanned the hall and settled on a rather young one in a yellow dress.

She blushed as he came up to her and bowed.

"My lady," He said, smiling his best charming smile, "I am afraid that my asking you to dance has rather a selfish tryst in it. You see, my brother over there..." He gestured to his double, who was sitting at the table laughing with a group of rangers and elves. "...has set a rather high standard for me. It is my challenge, dear lady, to defeat him in a test of dancing. And to do that requires a strong, suitable partner. Will you help this poor elf defeat his brother in a petty game of footwork?"

The elf-maiden smiled and took his outstreched hand. "I would be honored, my Lord,"

A new song began as the pair stepped onto the dance floor. It was a spirited song, full of exuberance that enlivened Elrohir's heart and set his feet into motion. The elf-maiden was just as good a dancer as he, and soon the two felt as if they were the only ones in the room, with the music watching over.

Elrohir almost thought that he had grown wings on his feet, and his partner as well, she seemed to glide across the floor and responded to his every movement with a likewise beutiful one of her own. He twirled her and she looked like a flower, her gown flowing around her.

The song ended and the two bowed gracefully.

"My lady,"said Elrohir, "I must say that you are the best dancer I have met in a long time."

"Thank you, my Lord. And you are the best dancer I have ever met."

"Well," Elrohir replied, leading her back to her friends, "You are quite young. You will meet better dancers than I in your long life," he bowed again, "Thank you, my lady."

He turned and met his brothers eyes, with a challenge in his smile as he headed back to the table.

Best that, dear brother.

[Mad Baggins]

Beroth twirled about clumsily with the beautiful Elf-maiden in his arms. The song ended and he bowed, nearly falling over. "Thank you, m'lady, for that lovely dance," he hiccuped, straightening and smiling what he thought was a charming smile.

The Elf giggled, placing her hand over her mouth, and curtsied gracefully, saying in a soft voice, "You are most welcome, Ranger." She then turned about and went back to her seat. Beroth smiled and turned around, stumbling back to his place. Not wishing to fall on the floor, he sat down carefully. When he had accomplished this feat, he looked around and saw that other Rangers had begun to dance, and that most of them were completely consumed by the ale as well. Beroth sighed, leaning back in his comfortable chair, and grabbed a piece of bread from the table to eat. He nibbled on it as he watched the dancers twirl and fly around the room. The Elves moved with a beautiful grace that was wondrous to the eyes, and the Rangers...well, you couldn't say the same for the Rangers.

Beroth finished his bread and got up quickly, which was a bad choice. He reeled and almost tripped over his own chair before he gained control of his body. He wobbled across the hall to a lovely young Elf-maiden and bowed, saying, "Pardon me, miss, but may I have this dance?"

Although he lacked coordination, none of Beroth's pleasantness had been affected by the ale, and the maiden smiled and accepted his invitation. Sweeping her onto the dance floor, Beroth felt that he was on the top of the world.

[astarielle]

Elladan watched Elrohir dancing, focusing only on them the rest of the room was a mere blur. Elrohir was certainly profficient to say the least, he demanded admiration. But, thought Elladan, so do I. He smiled to himself. This ever ongoing battle to better the other had been going on since they were young, from climbing trees to mastering the sword. As the years went by the brothers accepted that somethings they were better at and some weaker. Yet dancing was not one of them.

He walked up to his brother and slapped him on the back, "You dance well brother, how about a contest - you versus I and.....the rangers can decide who wins?" He miled to himself and knew that Elrohir would accept the challenge.

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Hanindur was quite hungry, so, even when the others got up to dance, for quite a while he found himself sitting still, and eating. The food served in Imladris was quite good, he knew that for a fact. And he was rather tired anyhow, not feeling up to dancing with the light-footed elf-maidens drawn by the music. He watched as some of the others stood up, and danced with the elves drawn nearby, and had to force himself to stop laughing at the grim expression on Lord Elrond's face. Hanindur knew that he was slightly drunk then, for there was no reason to be giggling like a young child.

That ale was a bad idea, he decided, forcing himself to his feet, only to stumble right back down, and fall into his seat. Not good.

He gave up trying to stand up, and went back to eating. At least with the slight dizziness brought on by the ale, that was one thing that he could do easily enough, and not have anything to worry about. Shrugging, he picked up his knife, and went back to his food, trying to keep his vision straight. He never had had a good head for beer or ales of any sort. "I think I'm going to regret this," he said under his breath, trying his best to keep his mind focused, and not fall under the influence of the beer.

[Saraphim]

"Elladan," said Elrohir, "You know me all too well. I cannot deny a challenge of any sort, especially when it comes to something I am obviously so much more gifted at."

This remark fulfilled it's purpose of goading Elladan, who bristled. Some of the elves and rangers around them tensed, expecting the twins to begin a fight. But Elrond and Arathorn knew them too well, and, although Elrond was not thrilled at the prospect of his sons having yet another competition, both agreed.

The musicians, hearing of the oncoming duel, seemed to play with a new energy, and Elrohir had found his partner, the same elven-maiden who had so enchanted him with her dancing abilities before.

Instead of moving onto the nearly empty dance floor, Elrohir bowed to his brother.

"As I and my beautiful partner here have so recently had a turn, it is only fair that you should be given a half a chance to show me up. As if a head start would help you win over me, that is."

Elladan smiled. "We will certainly see, dear twin."

[astarielle]

Elladan smiled. "We will certainly see, dear twin."

He thought to himsel for a second. "I was thinking brother, too make the contest truly fair, shouldn't we both dance with the same maiden?" Although this was being presumptious on behalf of the maiden, thinking that she would agree to this though she would be well within her rights to refuse, he asked anyway.

"If that is your decision brother, then I am inclined to uphold your wish. However, I would like to ask the opinion of this fine Lady on the matter."

"As you wish Elrohir. To be noble surely the Lady should have a rest first?"

Elladan returned to his seat briefly, and took another gulp of ale and waited for his brother to join him.

[Phervasaion]

Paladir sat down at the long table with the other Rangers and admired the beautiful patterns upon the table cloth and plates. He then glanced at all the food and his eyes widened. The quantity and quality of the Elven food seemed to be the most excellent that he had seen, or tasted for that matter, in a long time. All the Rangers ate and drank until their hearts were content, and Paladir was thoroughly enjoying himself.

After a while, Paladir looked up to see that a lot of the Rangers were beginning to dance. They’ve had too much ale, he thought to himself. Paladir looked across the table and saw Hanindur climbing out of his seat, only then to fall back into it again. Paladir let out a loud laugh and Hanindur turned and looked.

“I’d like to see if you could stand with no trouble from the ale, Paladir my friend,” he said with a slight smile on his face.

Paladir rose from his seat with a confident expression on his face, and as soon as he stood he tripped over the leg of the chair and fell flat on his face. He landed with a thud and half the people in the room turned and looked. Arathorn and the others laughed as he climbed to his feet again, and he gave Hanindur a look as if to say to say, okay you were right.

Paladir could now see everyone in the room, and he noticed a fair Elven maiden in the corner sniggering at him. He walked towards to her, this time without tripping over and being the laughing stock of the party.

“Care for a dance, milady,” he said to her in a low, not so confident tone.

The Elven maiden sniggered again. “Only if you don’t trip over my feet,” she replied. Paladir stuttered slightly. “Well…err… I did that on purpose, so… err… Hanindur over there wouldn’t feel left out,” he said as he led her to the dance floor.

[Will Witfoot]

Eldín dug into the food with a will, but drank only little of the served beverages. He had never understood the attraction of alcohol, and drinking it couldn't help him loosen his tongue and poring over his cares with a faithful friend.
He glanced up from his plate and saw men and elves on the dance floor. This was more to his taste. Although he couldn't hear, Eldín was accounted an excellent dancer, even by elvish standards. No-one knew how this could be, save Eldín himself. He simply felt the swirl and flow of the music, relying it for guidance.

He rose from his seat and made his way to the dance floor. Most of the others were dancing with a partner, one of the fair maidens of Rivendell. Eldín approached none of the ladies, prefering to dance alone, as he always did.
Slowly at first, he begun to dance to the unheard tune. Faster and faster he danced, lithe as a moth in the night and beautiful to watch. He could not hear the tune, could not take joy from the sweetness of the music being played, but took comfort in the swirl of the dance.