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| 5. Wind-Singers Prologue V: The Embassy- Escape from Mirkwood; Fareon and Lerinon begin in their cell, pondering their long fate... | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jan 18 2015, 11:16 AM (604 Views) | |
| Fareon | Jan 18 2015, 11:16 AM Post #1 |
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Fareon's face grew stern, and he slapped Lerinon across the cheek as he wept. The two brothers had met Agarwaenor and his brother Inheroth in the Library of the Halls of Thranduil of Mirkwood. Lerinon had spoken many things about their pasts, things Fareon wished he had kept hidden. They were spied upon by the King's guards and arrested at moments they least suspected. Now they were trapped in the dungeons, their sentence: eternity. Fareon sighed, "What did you tell -him-?" Lerinon buried his face in his arms, "Everything...." Fareon's eyes widened, "What do you mean 'everything'?" Lerinon did not relent in his sorrow, "Our Affirmation, our secret dwelling..... some of our history, the Feanorians, the Noldor.... Aman..... Makalaure........." Fareon struck him on the forehead, "Why? Why would you betray everything? What was spoken in the Library was bad enough..... our Ada warned us to keep hidden these secrets for a reason! And now we are trapped here, because of your lips............ trapped forever in this cell, and Ada will never know what happened to us...." Lerinon muttered, "I felt compelled..... something moved through me, I cannot explain it...... Inheroth and I have become as brothers...." Fareon rolled his eyes, "In only a span of hours, you are meaning to tell me, that you and this ellon passed from being mere strangers to being.... as if kin?! How, not even Auruiron and Makalaure bonded in so short a span of time..... how can this be...." Lerinon sighed, "He was enthused. He was.............." Fareon muttered, "He sounds youthful and naive. I thought the customs of these people were to avoid....... although he did not strike me as one who follows strictly according to custom, and nor are you one such ellon, brother! Well there is no help for it now. We are trapped here forever. Oh brother, I would that you could have held your tongue...... we are not sons of Dior! We are sons of Auruiron of Aman!" Lerinon yelled, "We were adopted!" Fareon yelled back, "And we were more likely the sons of a minor noble, or a stable-master!" Lerinon slapped Fareon. "Do not strike me again, for I am..." Fareon shrank back, unflinching from the pain, "It is hopeless. You are as mad as Ioristion, a different sort of madness, but madness all the same...... and now here I am trapped.......forever......... oh brother, let us not strike each other. It will not befit........ we will have counted every speck of dust and still our sentence will not have ended......." Lerinon closed his eyes, his face still wet with tears. Edited by Fareon, Dec 6 2017, 05:56 PM.
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| Agarwaenor | Jan 18 2015, 05:49 PM Post #2 |
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Agarwaenor
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"Leave us." The posted guards stiffened at the voice, their armour clinking and their spears tapping upon the cold stone floor. In unison they turned, and marched down the dark halls of the dungeons. For several moments it seemed that the twins were alone. Then, heralded by the soft tinkling of an ornamented pauldron, the red-clad Elf Agarwaenor stepped into the light. He wore his disapproval upon his face like a mask, his features frozen in place. His icy grey eyes and shimmering silver hair shone dimly in the torchlight as he approached the cell, before clasping his hands behind his back. Firstly he gazed upon Lerinon, and at the sight of the weeping Elf his mask of disapproval became one of mild distaste. Then, his gaze drifted to Fareon, and he spoke to him. "For over four thousand years I have served the court of Taur-nu-fuin. For four thousand years I have pleased King Thranduil and King Oropher both. Oropher spoke of me with kind words, he called me his Crimson Raven, for there was no word spoken that I could not relay to his ears, whether or not those words were meant for him. Thranduil spoke of me rarely, for that is his way." He leaned closer to the bars, his eyes burning with subtle anger. "You have cost me much, 'Diorion'," he said to Lerinon. "Perhaps in four thousand more years I may regain my King's regards, but until that day comes I wear your folly as a badge of dishonour upon my breast." |
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| Inheroth | Jan 18 2015, 06:56 PM Post #3 |
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Inheroth knelt at the throne of Thranduil, his face cast down and hands spread outwards, palms open beseechingly, “Please, my King,” he began, only to be cut off by a swift gesture of Thranduil’s arm. He silenced himself and flinched, steeling himself warily against the beratement that would surely follow. His arms fell to his sides. “Your report of the Southern borders.” In his immense surprise, Inheroth dared to look up; his King sat upon his throne, reclined and still, staring at the great jewels adorning his fingers, his face expressionless and timeless as it ever was. He did not seem troubled. Struggling for words, Inheroth swiftly looked away. “The spiders have been dispatched, for the time being,” he replied, slow in his hesitance. “We have encountered small parties of yrrch, but they seem leaderless, and wander in numbers easily overtaken. Our borders remain fortified. I have left a rather large contingent, and…mean to return to my post soon, my lord.” He drew in a deep breath and held it, counting the moments that passed, before Thranduil spoke again. “Very well. You may go.” “My lord?” Inheroth rose and looked upon his King. “But…I would have words with you concerning the fates of Lerinon and F-“ “What is there to speak of?” Thranduil said, lowering his icy gaze to match Inheroth’s. “They are guests within my realm, and their rooms befit their status as my subjects. It is nothing for you to concern yourself over. I am certain they have deceived you with their honeyed tongues, and I can forgive you your transgression of paying heed to their lies, this once. You are young, and know not the ways of this world. Go hence. Return to your outpost, and your duties. That is all.” He wove a hand imperiously, and Inheroth inclined his head, deflating at the rather abrupt dismissal. He turned to go, and stopped only when his King’s voice rose once more. “Mind your steps, Inheroth. I shall know where they take you.” From there he rushed into the Library, desperate to seek his brother, to find comfort in his assurances. Yet it was empty, and Inheroth nearly wept in his frustration, worry spurring the quickness of his pulse. At a table littered with scattered books he sat, and buried his face in his hands, sighing heavily. His options now were few, for Thranduil did not threaten lightly; his movements would be watched, and he could not hasten to the prisons as he wished. Most of all he wished to speak to Lerinon, and comfort him, for he could not believe that the words they exchanged were based in untruths. For many long hours he sat here and pondered, awaiting the presence of Agarwaenor. Then he could make sense of this dire situation. |
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| Lerinon | Jan 18 2015, 07:27 PM Post #4 |
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Fareon's eyes perked. He had stopped weeping, "Be silent Lerinon. Now, Agarwaenor, you are seething. Seething justly so. I am seething equally so. For it was the folly of my brother that has caused this. But attend your ears with care, and listen carefully. You have fallen from your King's grace, as have we all. But I tell you this..." Lerinon's eyes began to glow, "Your brother spoke of a darkness. A shadow gathering to the south. We may know something of its nature... but we would have to investigate it......." Fareon nodded, "My brother speaks the truth. Our father, adopted or not, it matters not- experienced many dangerous, shadowy foes in the years of the First Age. We have our suspicions... Agarwaenor, consider it........ consider it..... you could regain your honour in the eyes of your King, if you learned the truth............ but you need us in order to do it. It could complicate things, but my father was a clever diplomat in the First Age..... and he taught me everything he knew. He escaped from worse. Imagine! To survive so many power dynamics......... so many competing Princes and powers......... he outwitted the Eldar from the Falas to the slopes of Rerir.......... allow me to give you an example, if you would adhere to your greater sense of reason. You are angered, and justly so, and what I may suggest may prove to be that which you might fear the most, and yet it is within that risk that you may yet regain what you have lost........ think on it. I have noticed that the guards adhere to wine-drinking. I have noticed that the wine has a greater effect than many other forms of wine. I saw this at the feast. But there is something else.... I sense your presence here has been noted by the guards. Note my tone of voice, only we can hear. But they see you conversing. Your King will no doubt know. You might find yourself in one of these cells. You have no choice. I promise you that of the number of books and knowledge hither that you may lose, greater still shall you gain......... you shall read texts that were writ in the West itself, preserved by the powers of the Valar, you shall study works that no Sindar has ever set eyes upon...... and the glory of it shall be yours, and more besides......... for none outside our walls save those whom we trust the most shall ever hear tale of it. And you shall aid in the preservation of that secret history, if you seize the chance. Back to the wine... consider it more closely. Many of them were at the feast, I saw them, which means.... I would assume the guards at the gates and other places would be minimal......... so, have someone who might know them... your brother, perhaps..... offer them the Dorwinion, let them drink, do it only when all the rest are at a feast or festival of some sort......... and then, when the guards are asleep, release us..... and we will slip right out the main gates. And we will journey south before journeying west, to determine what this threat is...... for if it is he whom I fear, we may yet supplant him...... and win glory for both the Noldor and the Sindar." He paused, seeing the simmering ellon before him in clearer eyes, "Alternatively, you may allow us to languish here. I dare say my brother deserves it, and me for failing to control his larger tongue. But you will be called before the King, oh yes.... watch your steps closely. I suspect there will be another feast tonight. Watch your steps with care.... for you could come with us, and receive glories than not even Thranduil himself could hope to receive..... or we can remain here, and you can take your risks. Think carefully. Greater honour, or worse shame." Lerinon spoke up, "And your brother had already agreed to come with us. You shall not find him difficult to sway. Forgive me.... all of you...... you are right...... I spoke shamefully and with stupidity.............. I long now only for the halls in which I have lived, for they seem to me now more wondrous than all of Doriath......" Fareon repeated again, "Greater honour, and glory besides.... or what you have now." He spoke tactfully and carefully, and even pleadingly, for it was their only hope to ever behold the West again. |
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| Agarwaenor | Jan 18 2015, 08:27 PM Post #5 |
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Agarwaenor
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Agarwaenor straightened as Fareon spoke. His expression melted into the familiar stoic face they had met before, as the Elf's words washed over him. Then, when Fareon had finished, he remained silent for a while, and turned his back to the twins. "My brother..." he repeated softly, some small iota of disappointment in his voice. "My brother's kindness is his weakness. He is all too ready to see the good in all things, and to give second chances to those who squander their first. I am not my brother." He turned back to the captives. "You ask me this? You ask me to betray he whose father granted me sanctuary from the Shadow's talons? You ask me to do away with my reputation, my position, my very purpose in Middle Earth? You ask this of me?" The torchlight seemed to dim, as his anger smoldered in his eyes. "You ask me to follow you? Nay. Once already you have squandered my trust and good will. You shall not find me so easily led astray a second time." He turned, and with a broad sweeping motion beckoned forth one of the guards he had dismissed. The guard hurried on swift and soundless feet to him, and bowed his head. "Your command, herald?" "Double their guard, and instruct your men to pay no heed to the words of the pauper-twins, and instruct my brother to await me in the library," ordered Agarwaenor. The guard bowed his head once more, and said, "Captain Inheroth already dwells in the library, Herald." Agarwaenor nodded, and sent the warden away. "And there shall be no drinking of wine within these prison halls, by the prisoners or their guards," Agarwaenor added, to the dismay of the retreating Elf. "I will not have inebriation sharpen their tongues against your wits." As the guard vanished down the hall, Agarwaenor turned back to the prisoners. "Enjoy your newfound domain, Doriathrim, while the King sees fit to keep you in such lavish dwellings. You have not fallen as far as you think, for there are cells far darker and deeper than this." And then he was too away down the halls, his crimson and golden robes drifting behind him. As he departed, four guards took the place of the previous two. ______________________ The grand doors of the library opened before Agarwaenor, and towards Inheroth he cut a swift path between the seemingly endless shelves. He stood behind his brother silently, and waited to see what words he would have for him. Edited by Agarwaenor, Jan 18 2015, 08:38 PM.
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| Inheroth | Jan 18 2015, 09:16 PM Post #6 |
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At the first sound of disturbance to the doors Inheroth rose to his feet, and he stood quietly and motionless, his keen ears and sight ever poised for any sign of his brother. Yet it was not until he felt the weight of Agarwaenor’s gaze upon his back that he did notice his presence. At any other time, he would have cursed his senses for being so dulled, for though he could hear the softest tread from upon the highest boughs of the forest canopy, his brother had the capacity to steal silently thither and away from him. It was of no consequence now – Inheroth rushed forward and gathered his stiff, crimson-clad brother into a hasty embrace. He allowed his mask of serenity to fall away, and there was fear in eyes, urgency in every crease of his otherwise joyous countenance. “They have taken them!” He whispered fiercely, taking hold of Agarwaenor’s forearms and holding him at length. “Brother, they are being accused of supplantation! But I shall not believe it, nay, I cannot!” Abruptly he parted from his brother, and turned, his eyes darting to and fro, unseeing, as he dismantled each moment he had spent in Lerinon’s presence. “He was true,” he said softly, gaze pinching in distress. “They both were. Sons of Doriath, our father’s realm. And their golden cloaks! So much he shared with me, such tales brother! His father, with the light of Aman upon his face. The sons of Feanor, they hunted them! Yet Auruiron loves him still, the singer, Maglor. Why should they come here to spread falseness? I have told you before, our King, he grows paranoid, with each passing year! Instead of welcoming our fair guests, he has thrown them into a cell, to wither unto eternity, and why!” Swiftly he faced Agarwaenor, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “They have made no injustice, no false claims, seek no titles or rewards for their bearings! Brother, Lerinon asked me to join them, to be at his side. How can I now, when they are locked away from my grasp? Please, you must aide me. Speak to our Lord! You have been ever in his favor. He trusts your every word. I have already tried, and he has dismissed me! Already I am ordered South again, why…I have only just arrived! Give me counsel. I have sat here for an hour, and can think of nothing. Oh, but what is this?” Inheroth pauses, and takes in a deep breath, stunned at the expression on Agarwaenor’s face. For it is only now that he sees the anger there, the disappointment etched into the hard line of his mouth, and Inheroth’s heart quails. “Brother,” he says, gathering his soft green robes about him and closing the distance between them, “no, say nothing! I know what it is you would say already. Only give me a moment, let me explain this to you! I know you think me a fool, rash and hasty in my judgments. But you must believe me! I saw it! I saw…everything, when he cast his cloak about me. His mind, his voice! I named him brother, gwador, and I would not do so lightly. Please…” his voice fades, for Agarwaenor remains unmoved as stone, and the tears that gather in his eyes are like to water breaking against the rigid coast, immobile and unyielding. “I see…” he whispers, “your mind has been set. Can I say nothing to change it?” |
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| Lerinon | Jan 18 2015, 09:55 PM Post #7 |
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"A coward and a fool!" Fareon uttered. Now there were four guards at the gates. Lerinon thought pensively, Caught as ever our father in the clutches of Lamaen.... But a fire burned in Fareon's eyes, "Makalaure would not tolerate this." Lerinon wondered, "What are you thinking?" Fareon suddenly pulled forth one of Auruiron's sewing needles from beneath his robes. He began silently picking at the locks. He was careful in his craft, so the guards would not notice, and he concealed his actions. The gate unlatched, but remained shut. One of the guards turned, "What are you doing?" Fareon smirked, kicking back the door, and grabbing one of the guard's swords, "You shall not prevail against a servant of Feanor!" Lerinon's ears were filled in horror at those words. One of the guards drew his bow, but Lerinon grabbed hold of him, grabbing his sword as well. He cut the bow's string. Suddenly, Fareon lunged at the rear of the other guard, whose back was turning. Now, their arrows were useless. It came to swords. Fareon and Lerinon stood back to back, "To think you could have beheld such glory." They clashed to and fro. One of the guards tried to call for aid, but Lerinon stifled his mouth, shoving him into the cell. Another shoved at Lerinon, who kicked. They parried to and fro across the hall. Then Fareon shoved another into the cell. All four were in the cell, as Lerinon grabbed the keys. They fought. Tooth and nail. Lerinon finished the latch. The gate to the cell was locked. When they had entered the prison, they had seen their weapons, no doubt brought after their chamber had been searched. They were standing against the guard-room wall. They now proceeded, Fareon gazing ahead, the room was empty. Fareon sighed with relief, It was only those four guards..... I wonder where the others are..... Agarwaenor had the guards doubled, are they at the other end.... They moved quickly, retrieving their weapons. Fareon grabbed his bow of silver, and his silver arrows, re-attaching his thigh-quiver. And he grabbed his sword. "This way," Lerinon yelled, for he remembered some of the passages Inheroth had shown them. And through those more elusive ways, they returned to the Library. They did not know if there was a high feast distracting the other guards. They found their way back to the library, swords drawn in their hands. It was only a matter of time before the guards were caught. Fareon gazed at their surprise, "Since you are so bold, know that I was raised by Feanorians. And if neither life nor death nor Vala nor mortal men nor Yrch nor Sun nor Moon nor Elf nor any creature that crawls upon the earth could stop them at Alqualonde, Doriath, and Sirion, then never shall I be stifled with such ease! You are now my hostages. They will not dare to strike at us as such. We will return to our father, or perish in the attempt. Now is their training come to light. Come, brother, let us make Astarseron with his fiery blades proud of our great fervor, let us make Almareon of the stalwart shield, ever pleased he had raised such soldiers, let us boast of Melimwe's spear before all who dare to strike us thence, let us make ours the sound and the fury, we shall not be held, not this day, nay, not for eternity! For I am no Prince of Doriath! And of Sindarin heritage may I be, but I have exchanged it for a greater one, a noble one, one that is held preserved in Song for all the ages and in Vaire's strands! Feanor son of Finwe, I sing with you! And Findekano upon Thorondor's rear, and Maitimo Nelyafinwe at Himring, and glorious Fingolfin before Angband's Gates, and Finrod and Beren in the depths of Sauron's hold, and Hurin and Huor, and Tuor, and all who fought at Gondolin, and I draw my sword in unison with yours, Caranthir, Celegorm, Curufin... even if against my own heritage. For my heritage is born anew. My heritage is that which I lovest well. And it shall not be reft from me!" Lerinon's heart was chilled at such words. His brother truly would have betrayed all of Doriath and their own father, if it meant that he would gain that which Auruiron and his relatives imparted to them throughout the passing years. Lerinon's eyes blazed, "Then let the Prince of Doriath stand with the Feanorian, to the bitter end. Come, brother. They will find the imprisoned guards soon." Fareon's eyes gleamed, "You will proceed, and silently. As I am spawned from the depths of the First Age, my memories may yet be relived anew. Now, Inheroth, you know these halls. If you would be so loyal, to the title of brother bestowed upon you, if you wish to see such lands and histories as my brother has told you, you will lead us out of here, and to the least-guarded passages. You shall prove your worth to us." Lerinon's eyes beamed, "But he is worthy. Inheroth, your life, at least, is not in danger. Understand something." He grabbed Inheroth and took him aside down one of the aisles, whispering, "Fareon is bluffing. None of you are in danger. He speaks truthful statements, as we are incapable of lies, but the statements are only true in certain contexts. But your brother must believe that we are serious. Listen, he came to us in the cells, we offered him what I offered you, he rejected it wholeheartedly, and he doubled the guards. We escaped, but barely, and we are still trapped within these labyrinthine halls. I would take the cold river or the spiders or the shadows to the south over this. Now get us out of here. The future has come. There are many treasures awaiting you, as reward." They came back from out of the aisle, Fareon was still holding Agarwaenor hostage. Fareon grimly smiled, "Time to move. Speak and beware of the consequences." He flashed his sword. Fareon feared the consequences more for himself and his brother's sake. He never truly considered murder. But neither did he lie. Edited by Lerinon, Jan 25 2015, 01:17 AM.
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| Agarwaenor | Jan 18 2015, 11:04 PM Post #8 |
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Agarwaenor
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"You are as foolish as you are desperate," said the silver haired brother. "You should have fled, Son of Feanor," Agarwaenor said, and he went to turn to face his captor, if he would allow it. "Perhaps your spirit aches to spill Elven blood, as your kin did long ago." He turned, showing no fear of the blade or its wielder. "But you forget, I have seen your mind, Doriathrim. Your threats are empty. You are no more a kinslayer than I am a Teleri." |
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| Inheroth | Jan 19 2015, 12:21 AM Post #9 |
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"Agarwaenor, please! Hold thy tongue!" Inheroth's eyes darted frantically between the three Elves at his side, and his hands trembled in his indecision. "Peace, brothers," he urged, his voice never raising above a whisper; even with drawn swords the sanctum of the Library he would not break, nor would he alert further guards to their whereabouts. "Lerinon, Fareon. I understand your plight. Truly I do, yet this I cannot condone. Sheathe your swords, there is no reason to threaten! No promise of spilt blood nor rewards may sway me! I would have shown you the path to your freedom without it. Lerinon. Gwador-nin." He turned and rushed to him, grasping his hands tightly. "I have said that I love you, and I spoke in truth. Let me lead you, I alone. I will bring you and Fareon through a secret passage into the forest, where we may pass unseen. That road will lead us south, where your captors will not expect, for I think they believe you would escape westward towards Imladris, or the Havens. Did you not tell the King you were from the Lindon? Please." Earnestly he regarded them all, the color high upon his cheeks, his grey eyes flashing. "I do not do this to prove my worth to you. I seek no payment. You ask much of me, to betray my King, to forsake my home. I ask only this in return - trust in me. All of you. Lerinon." A steady breath calmed him, they had time, a few more moments at least before the guards were found, before the twins would be traced here. This he could do. "Sindar, Noldor, this means nothing to me now, I care not for your names, nor thy legacies. But I would see you home, no blood split between us." To the very image of Thinfiligon he turned, his brother-in-blood, standing proud and tall even with the tip of the sword pointed to him. "Little one," he said softly, reaching up to cup Agarwaenor's shoulder. "I do not ask anything of you lightly, for I know how much you value your honor and loyalty, yet now I will beg, stay here and do nothing. Do not call out, do not alert anyone to where we go. What Thranduil has done...it is wrong, brother. It cannot be borne! Thus I will lead them to their freedom, and you shall be blameless, here amongst your tomes, unshaken from your King's esteem. Will this be enough? May we all part here in peace?" |
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| Lerinon | Jan 19 2015, 12:27 PM Post #10 |
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"You are correct, Agarwaenor. And we are in your power. We are desperate, it is true. But I sheathe my sword for now. I will draw it again only if I must, to parry and ward off attacks. But I am no kinslayer. I applaud you, truly. You remind me of Lamaen of old, renowned diplomat of the Falas. You remind me of him in many ways, and of his son, Aurgalad. But pray, allow us to depart." Lerinon spoke softly, "Inheroth, our words together were true. And for your sacrifice, you shall receive ten-fold, whether you ask for it or not. Yet Agarwaenor, there are mysteries that you could study. You know now that we are harmless. Did I not mention the word 'imprisoned?' We fought tooth and nail, but no Elf was harmed or marred in our escape. And I am sorrowful, for this was all my fault. My tongue spoke too openly. Naive I was, naive... I thought... I thought..." Fareon smiled, "He thought to be accepted by his native Sindar. Clearly, he was wrong. I tried to dissuade him, for him to hold his tongue. But I believe he has learned an important lesson. Inheroth, you are correct. Blood-ties matter not. A lesson my brother has now learned dearly. He knows who are our true kin are, far away to the West. But I saw your mind, Agarwaenor, as well. You forget. Think on it carefully. Your love of history and knowledge, I sensed it. What artifacts you could find in the ruins of Lindon... the old spires of Gil-galad's Kingdom, hidden in some crevice unexplored, for the Eldar seldom search them, for their sadness and their sorrow at the loss of the Kingship nigh the ending of the Second Age... and there they lie undisturbed, the halls where once tread... tens of thousands of Elves.... of the Noldor and of the Sindar.... you spoke to me of marks........ why not explore them....... and it may be, that Thranduil may relent, with the knowledge that you may yet bring on your return.......... think on it. Forlond and Harlond, and all the old estates and towns of Lindon, all for you and my third brother to explore, for he is searching them as well........ and there is not only that realm, but Eregion to the south of Imladris........ Ost-en-Edhil with its marred golden spires and magnificent domes, its ruined marbled streets, preserved by powers older than us all.......... hidden libraries, lined with tomes that have survived the ages, with powers that do not decay, for they have come from the West........... the remnants of Ossiriand....... all of this could be yours, no other scholar of Taur en Fuin could ever hope to find all of this............ all you need do, is come. Will you not protect your brother? Will you -leave him-, or will you come?" Edited by Lerinon, Jan 20 2015, 08:29 AM.
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| Agarwaenor | Jan 23 2015, 06:05 PM Post #11 |
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Agarwaenor
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Agarwaenor cast his cold gaze to his brother for a moment, as his mind began to plot. Perhaps there was a way to adhere to his duties, and yet... "What you ask of me is impossible," he said, once Fareon had said his piece. "You ask me to choose between duty and family, between ambition and loyalty. I cannot do as you ask. But neither can I restrain you three myself." He turned from Fareon, drawing closer to his brother. "You have been quick to abandon your position to aid these twins, brother mine. I wonder what it is you saw in Lerinon that has taken your fancy. Very well, if that is your choice, then begone with them." He turned, gathering his robe about him, and eased closed the doors to the library. Then he turned, and beckoned for them to follow to the winding staircase that led to his study. He began the climb, taking up a torch from a sconce nearby. "No doubt you are aware of the resemblance these halls bear to Menegroth, of your ancient Doriath. As such there are many hidden passages, and one such passage exists in my study. You may escape unseen from there. You must be out of Mirkwood by nightfall, or our scouts will be upon you. As for myself, I will explain to explain to King Thranduil that I have allowed you to escape, in order to spy upon you." He brought the three to a halt in the center of the room, before handing the torch to Fareon and approaching the far wall. "I assume it has occurred to you, brother, that it will not escape our King's attention that you have vanished along with his prisoners? You will become a suspect and a traitor in his eyes." There was a low rumble, as Agarwaenor placed his ring against a matching stone setting in the wall. A section of the floor began to slide away, revealing a dark tunnel that curved through the mountain and out into the forest. |
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| Inheroth | Jan 23 2015, 07:07 PM Post #12 |
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Down into the passage Inheroth stared with wonder, for this was a path he was not familiar with, unlit and cobwebbed with the dusts of time. Pausing, he reached for Agarwaenor’s arm and held it in a firm grasp, bidding his brother to look him in the eye with an earnest tug. “Brother…” he began, his voice wavering and full of tapered emotion. “I feel as though I must reassure you. This is not some….passing fancy of mine; it is not one of my foolish dreams or endeavors. I know what I am doing, and I know that it is right. Heedless you have ever deemed me, perhaps even unwise, yet I must! Even if it means that I leave all behind. All…” It occurred to him suddenly that he was dressed for leisure, no weapon at his hip, no provisions upon his person, every one of his possessions abandoned in his rooms. Lerinon and Fareon were better armed, though they were no doubt stripped of most of their belongings when tossed into their cell. Such a complication stunned him into momentary silence, and he hesitated. This passage would lead them into the forest, where there would be no turning back, and along that road they would surely battle spiders, orcs, hunger, and time. “Listen,” he said, renewed in purpose and energy, his eyes ablaze. “You are right in assuming that I will be counted as a traitor. Thus I would ask this of you; go to my rooms, and take what heirlooms of our family we have there. Keep them safe. My armour, my weapons, leave them. Let Thranduil believe us to be defenseless and without aid. And for a time we shall be, yet I believe in our abilities; we will overcome all. When you are free of suspicion, travel hence and meet us…” Sharply he looked towards Lerinon. “What say you? If we travel south, for a time, whoever should follow us may assume we head for the Golden Wood. We can make an abrupt turn for the North, perhaps towards the Gladden. From there we may reach Imladris, and safety. It will be a long journey, and full of dangers, yet what else can we do now?” To his brother, he suddenly pulled into an embrace, ignoring the stiffness of Agarwaenor’s frame and reveling in their closeness. “I am sorry,” he whispered into his ear, “if I have disappointed you. If I have tried your patience for a final time. Yet what is this but another adventure? And Agarwaenor, what would our father have us do, if Elurin and Elured were found? For his honor, for our own, I must see this done. I would not have the last of Doriath’s heirs wither from jealousy and spite. Please understand this.” Pulling away slowly, he looked Agarwaenor in the eye. “We must go,” he said to the twins. “I know these woods well. Night shall come soon upon us, and the dark will not hinder us.” Edited by Inheroth, Jan 23 2015, 07:12 PM.
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| Agarwaenor | Jan 25 2015, 01:14 AM Post #13 |
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Agarwaenor
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Agarwaenor pressed a hand to his brother's cheek, and there was some trace of a smile on his lips. "You will always have my patience, and my loyalty," he said quietly. Then he turned, vestments spinning around him, to face the twins. "Do as my brother says, for there are few keener or more swift. I offer this advice primarily to you, Lerinon. The deep woods are perilous, and a wagging tongue even more so." He went back into the study briefly, and when he returned, he held two twin daggers. They were exquisitely ornate, their silver blades shining like the moon on a clear night. He held them out for each of the twins. "These are among the finest artifacts of ancient Eregion in my possession. I wish to have them back when your use of them is done. Be sure that you keep them safe." |
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| Lerinon | Jan 25 2015, 03:24 PM Post #14 |
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"How came you by these?" Lerinon gazed at them quizzically. "So you have ventured outside of the realm of Greenwood after all," Fareon slowly smiled. "I do not recognize these daggers. So, I congratulate you, with the blessings of their former owners, who either perished in its Fall, passed into the West, or fell in the Last Alliance. Keep them with our good graces, for you may have need of them in days to come. This is not a threat, but a gnawing portent in my heart. We may yet see each other again. And, in actuality," He took the daggers from Agarwaenor, "They are yours, but we will keep them safe, ere you return to find your brother, and these, the treasures that you have found." And Fareon flipped back his double-cloaks, revealing his own sword. He nodded to Lerinon, and they placed the swords they had taken from the guards onto Agarwaenor's desk. "These belong to your guards. We are not thieves. We will take only what our most gracious King has given freely before our capture, which he did not rescind. There may be cold and lonesome nights upon our road. I thank you, sincerely." It had arched between the muscles of his back, hidden beneath the weight of the cloaks. It was slender and of silver, with ancient Tengwar runes engraved throughout. He had hidden it with precision and haste in the guard-room. And, nodding to Agarwaenor and to Inheroth, and upon hearing a commotion in the distance, they strode away, vanishing into the shadows of the passage. They ran with haste throughout, their steps guided, and in time, the vastness of the tunnel gave way to the gap between the mountain and the greater forest. And there the shadows of the heavy lid of stone fell away, revealing the stars of Elbereth in all their majesty, stretching throughout the firmament, as the light of the Moon glimmered on their faces. They turned toward Inheroth. Fareon sighed, "And hither have we come. Oh Elbereth, guide our steps through the shadows we must endure." And after some time of staring, their eyes beaming, a tear falling down Lerinon's cheek, Fareon remarked: "We need to find a river. Some sort of a water source, where the soil is fresh, and animals may graze. I remembered seeing the River Running as I studied the Map of Arda ere our journey began. How far are we from it? For I fear we would not long survive in the shadows to the south, although we are more hale and long-lived than mortal men. Still, I believe we must follow the river, and find some form of provisions somewhere. I know not if the Men of Escaroth are favorable to Elves or not. And I have heard the legend of the dragon that stalks the halls of Erebor. We shall not tread into that lonely, shadowed mountain. Inheroth, you know of the fruits of the wood, and what sorts of herbs and berries are safe to eat? Lead us forward. Our lives are in your debt. Above all things, take us by the quickest path. For I fear neither of us would have any hope within the hands of King Thranduil's scouts. We must not linger hither, lest pursuit arrives from the passage behind us." |
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| Inheroth | Jan 25 2015, 09:45 PM Post #15 |
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Their parting would be a swift one, and Inheroth would shed no tears, not now, as he embraced his brother for a final time. Wordlessly, he pressed his cheek upon Agarwaenor’s shoulder, and remembered the passing of their parents into the West. Yet he must go, they had little time, and had many miles to put between themselves and this realm ere night fell. This would not be a long absence, he promised both himself and his brother, and he hoped he conveyed this in his brief touch, in his smile, in the last, lingering look he cast upon Agarwaenor, before following the twins down into the dark. The passage was unlit for the entirety of its length, and damp, and he followed its path through his senses of sound and smell rather than sight, which fared less than perfectly in such oppressive shadow. The steps of Lerinon and Fareon were close, and he could feel the brush of air upon his cheek stirring from the entrance, faint, yet discernable, carrying with it the fresh scent of beech and fir. Inheroth hurried towards it, his pace quickening, rousing himself from his melancholy and finding the strength in his limbs renewed. Thus he came to the cave mouth, and stood beside the twins, craning his neck upwards and delighting in the feel of starlight upon his face, the warmth from the torch Fareon held aloft. Ithil glimmered, awash in a backdrop of darkening blue and fading pink. The Sun was disappearing from the horizon, and nightfall was not yet completely upon them. It would be soon. “The river is south of here, and not far,” Inheroth pointed to a great swathe of trees in the distance. “It is hidden from our sight now, underneath the canopies. It leads East, if we should follow its path, aye, to Esgaroth. But I think such a direction is unwise. Though we are allied through trade, we do not tread within the realm of one another, make no meetings and share no friendships. And the dragon that you speak of, yes. We would do well to avoid straying too far north. However, there are small outposts along the river where we may acquire what we need. Merchants frequent the river into the Long Lake. Let that be our road, for now, before we turn south. I hope to avoid the Forest Road by any means, for they will be well scouted. Instead, I will lead us through secret paths through the forest, which are known only to a select few, myself included. Those others with the knowledge remain at the southernmost edge of our borders, and of course, they will not have had word of us yet. But first, we should put some distance between us and the Elven King’s halls. Come.” A few paces away from the hidden tunnel they had emerged from, Inheroth turned and eyed Fareon, frowning deeply. “Gwador, put out the torch for now, but keep it with you. We should wait until we reach the river before we rid ourselves of it, lest our pursuers find it and learn of our path. Unless, of course, you deem it wise to carry it, for who knows what we may come upon during the course of our journey?” Into the trees he led them, swift and silent despite the long robes which he wore. They would be a nuisance in the future, but there was nothing he could do about them now. He paused every few moments or so to make sure that the twins kept pace with him, but ceased after realizing that they did not need such coddling; they were, after all, Elves of Beleriand, travelled and much more experienced than he, older and wiser, perhaps in all things. Reassured, he picked up his pace. As twilight shimmered and the sky lost its pale color, the forest quieted, and the birds lessened in their chatter. Inheroth listened to them closely, for they spoke often and loudly at the first sign of any who walked through their wood, and could alert him to any dangers. Soon enough, they came across the river and its swift descent Eastward. “Here.” Inheroth came to a stop, gathering his robes about him. “We will follow the Running, for now. Keep thy gazes sharp – look for berries of dark blue amongst the brush, but avoid those of any hue of red. There are also nuts and acorns we may forage for, but I don’t think we should pause for food just yet. Distance, and time, are of the upmost import now.” |
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| Agarwaenor | Jan 26 2015, 08:38 PM Post #16 |
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Agarwaenor
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The door slid closed after the three fugitives, melding into the wall with a groaning thud. For a moment, Agarwaenor remained motionless, staring past the false wall with a trace of anxiety in his eyes. He had already began to plan his words. He knew precisely which truths to omit. 'If I may steer the King away from particular details, this plot may remain hidden,' he thought. A few seconds later, he turned, hid the stolen blades, and ran for the Great Hall. |
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| Lerinon | Jan 27 2015, 12:33 AM Post #17 |
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Fareon tossed a fold of his golden cloak, impervious to flame as it was, over his torch when they reached the river. Lerinon nodded to Inheroth, "We shall not yet eat." Fareon laughed, "Brother, these cloaks of ours are bulky. Let us tie bundle and tie them to our backs. They may be useful as tents." They paused and did so at the river. The bulky cloaks had become as if sacks tied to their backs, each brother assisting the other swiftly. Fareon turned and smiled, "Lead on, Gwador-nin." Silently, they made their way along its banks. The river wound to and fro through the darkness. After they had traveled for several hours, Fareon halted. He heard the sound of a shuffle in the trees nearby. As he stepped forward, he felt a slick, sticky rope in his way. He stepped back. It vibrated. A large spidery strand. He turned, "Draw swords." He grabbed his bow and looked toward the nearby trees. In the dim moonlight, a veil of grey was cast as if a vast net over the branches of a nearby copse. Then, a black, large form came barreling toward them. Fareon quickly grabbed several of his arrows in his hand, and moving quickly to the left, he seamlessly set the arrow to the string and fired. It landed directly in the spider's cluster of eyes. It writhed and screeched and Fareon fired another arrow. It was blind, but it still lumbered forward. Lerinon began chanting softly in an ancient tongue, he chanted of the Two Trees and their splendorous Light, and in Fareon's haste, his cloak had fallen off the torch, which fell into the river in his haste of drawing his bow. Another spider approached, but it feared the tongue of Lerinon. It screeched, as if the words damaged him. Aiya Earendil calima! Still, it came, with two more spiders unleashing their foulness. But then, a great Star could be seen in the heavens above, and Lerinon spoke of it with ferocity: Earendil and the Silmaril. The Light was bright, and it caused the spiders great pain. Fareon fired a volley that pierced their eye-clusters and foul mouths, his arrows piercing as if silver blades of old. The spiders fell dead. They did not pause to see what Inheroth was doing. When the battle ceased, Fareon leaped to their vast husks and grabbed his arrows swiftly. He heard more shuffling, but farther in the distance to their west. "Now we have to hurry. More could come. They fear Earendil's Star, but it will not be long until it passes. Hurry! We must reach the end of this forest! Lead on, Gwador!" Edited by Lerinon, Jan 27 2015, 12:34 AM.
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| Inheroth | Jan 28 2015, 10:12 PM Post #18 |
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As they paused at the river’s edge, Inheroth took a moment to take stock of their surroundings. The waters cast a fair amount of light about them, reflecting Ithil’s shimmering image, and all seemed still and quiet save for the bubbling of the water, the stir of the trees. Yet there was an air of unease upon the wind; he could neither name nor place it, for all seemed serene. Watching the twins ready themselves, he could almost believe it to be a passing fancy of his imagination. They were, after all, fugitives, and his entire being was servant to his senses, heightened as they were in his watchfulness. Thus he said nothing, and remained silent until Fareon bade him to continue their path. He smiled, and led them further along the bank, stopping only to take small sips from the clear waters. Their makeshift road led them ever eastward, unhindered for many miles, and they travelled swiftly and unmolested for some time. Inheroth began to relax, and cast his unease aside. Thus it was with surprise and dismay that he reacted to the sudden presence of spiders. He froze, his hands grasping for the sword at his hip that was not there, and could do nothing but watch as the foul creatures descended upon them. Their numbers were not strong, yet they were large and ferocious, and attacked without mind, an unseen hunger driving them towards their prey. His palms itched as he watched Fareon imbed an arrow into one of the creatures eyes, and quickly he stooped, searching for a sharp rock or stick to use in his own defense, weak though it may be against such puissance. And then Lerinon’s voice rose, clear and strong and beautiful. Inheroth looked up, and saw the spiders hesitate, and his heart was filled with both wonder and joy. Here was the Elf that he had embraced! A light seemed to shine from within him, answered by the evening sky, pulsating at the rich tones of the song. Never before had he seen nor heard such power, a weapon that was not the sharp of a blade or the pierce of an arrow. It filled him with hope, and a sudden realization; he had made the right decision, following them, his new brothers. They were worth more than all the jewels in Thranduil’s kingdom. Their knowledge, their light, would forever illuminate. And when the last of the spiders were slain, he darted forth and laughed, a sound of pure wonder and delight. “Brothers, this way!” he beckoned, and bade them follow. If there were more spiders, they would be quick to pursue, yet Inheroth was wiser in the ways of this wood. Sprinting, he brought them upon a sudden clearing. Here the water cut through a cliff side of rock that lasted for several leagues. Trees were sparse, and made for good scouting. Here, the Elves of Mirkwood once stood watch, to gaze East towards Esgaroth. Now their view was inhibited by a slight mist and the permeating dark of the night sky, but it mattered little. They were drawing closer to the borders of the wood, and should soon happen upon the scant merchants of Men left that dared travel this far West for the promise of wine and coin. Inheroth stopped their progress some time later, coming to a halt and surveying the river where it cut through limestone. Turning to the twins, he frowned thoughtfully. “If memory serves, there should be a small outpost not far from here. I doubt if the Men will question our presence, if we should posture to be traders in our own right, or emissaries of the King inquiring about their wares. We have done it in the past, and they know nothing about of ways, or customs, to question our state of dress or lack of supplies. Perhaps we may even trade with them, and supply ourselves further for our journey.” He led them once more, until they came upon a small dock. It was apparent that a small shelter had once existed beside it, but it was in ruin, a mere foundation of torn wood and stone. It was apparent that no Men had dwelled here for many years, and Inheroth frowned at the sight of it. “This is strange,” he said as he observed the ruin. “I sense that this was borne of violence, not neglect. But I cannot imagine why. Spiders do not often venture this far north.” |
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| Lerinon | Feb 10 2015, 09:58 PM Post #19 |
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Lerinon sighed, "Apparently... they do. You spoke of a shadow..." Fareon blinked, "We should continue, till we do find provisions." Dark circles were already appearing beneath Lerinon's eyes. His weary steps began again. They pressed beyond the ruin and continued to follow the river, as the sun gradually rose. The sun had risen and the sun had set for two days, weariness succumbing their hearts. They heard unkind sounds at nightfall and were wary of the eaves of the darker woods. In time, they reached a rise and a short plummet in the river, as the land sank lower. Then, they heard the sounds of men. "Gwador," Fareon whispered, "You represent the Wood Elves. But what have we to barter for provisions?" Beyond a nearby rock-cropping stood a small refuge, a stack of smoke rising from a camp-fire, as the sun was beginning to set. The sounds of heavy lifting and hauling filled the air, with harsh words the Sindar did not understand. It was commanded by bargemen of Escaroth. |
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| Inheroth | Feb 15 2015, 08:10 PM Post #20 |
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Inheroth crouched, and crept closer to the precipice overlooking the small encampment of Men. They were deep into their toils and surrounded by torches that gave off a powerful light in the gloom of nightfall. Perched upon the rocks as they were, the Elves remained hidden from their view, beyond the glow of their fires and masked under the shadows cast by the waning Sun. It seemed they were repairing a barge that had crashed upon the rocks. Its port was dashed in and splintered, and their wares were scattered. Barrels of wine bobbed lazily within the water. In his mind Inheroth began to formulate a plan, and he turned and beckoned for his brothers, and pointed to the sight below them. “We may have no goods to trade,” he whispered, “and we may even yet frighten them, if we appear suddenly. Yet above all things Men treasure coin. They struggle with their repairs, but if I offer them aid, they may be willing to part with some of their goods in exchange for the gold they will receive for delivering this to Thranduil’s Halls. And I can mend that barge easily enough.” Noting the deep circles beneath Lerinon’s eye, Inheroth reached up and gently placed his hand upon the other Elf’s cheek. “Do not succumb to weariness yet, gwador. Indeed I have dealt with traders like this before, and I know how to represent the Wood-Elves, as your brother said. With every step we grow further away from the Elven-King’s Halls, and I promise you all will be well from now.” He smiled warmly, and looked between the twins. “Say nothing, merely stand behind me. Mask your weapons, and follow my lead. That way, the Men shall not see us as a threat; merely a blessing.” Rising, he began to climb down the rock face on silent feet. He smoothed his hair, and relaxed his posture. Without his armour, and weaponless, he posed a rather non-threatening image, if fey, and unlikely. Thus he approached the Men with measured steps, his hands held up placatingly, and when he called out his voice was a pleasant thing, his Westron welcoming and friendly. "Hail, Men of Esgaroth! What ills have befallen you here?" The Men reacted immediately, drawing the weapons from their hips and spinning towards the Elves. The tension was thick in the air, and Inheroth knew it to be the result of their straying so close to the Woodland Realm. The Bargemen were a suspicious lot by nature, and rightly so, for their task was a dangerous one. When none made to reply, and merely stared at the Elves with open suspicion and anxiety, Inheroth took one step forward and inclined his head. "Forgive me, our presence has frightened you. But I think this is a happy chance that we have come upon you. I see your craft has been damaged, and I am a skilled woodworker, and would be happy to offer my services." "What do you want, Elf?" A single Man rose, and approached Inheroth with a deep frown. Inheroth inspected him carefully; he was their leader, that much was obvious, tall and clad roughly in leathers and furs, and imposing. "We are not within your borders yet, and make no trespasses." He made no move to lower his weapon, a sword that was not beautiful, yet sharp nonetheless. "I desire only trade," Inheroth replied, simply and earnestly. "We are scouts, you see, overcome by spiders -" The Men stirred in a panic at that and erupted into loud whispers amongst themselves, which quelled once Inheroth continued, "-which we have slain. They will be no threat to you, have no fear. But you can see we have little left to us after the battle in terms of provisions. Thus I offer you this; in exchange for my aid, you will give us what rations you can part with. Weaponry, food, clothing, anything will serve us. It is our mission to see these lands safe, so that trade will continue between our peoples uninterrupted. And I am sure that you will not want to delay your own mission any longer. Have we an accord? Both of our parties will gain much in turn." It took a few minutes for the Men to speak to one another before any decision could be reached. Inheroth listened keenly; the Dalish tongue was utterly foreign to him, and he understood but few words. He thought of Agarwaenor, who was well versed in many tongues, and often chided his brother for his seeming disinterest in learning them. He regretted this error now, but nothing could be done about it. Swiftly, he looked over his shoulder to the twins, standing just within the ring of light around them. The Sun had all but disappeared beyond the horizon, and the hum of crickets and the chirps of frogs could be heard over the rush of the river. Finally, after reaching an agreement amongst themselves, the gruff leader returned and sheathed his sword. "Very well," he said, though his frown was no less deepened, and he regarded both the twins and Inheroth with an apprehensive look. "We have food, and spare clothing, and a dagger we may part with. If you can set our barge to working order, they are yours. But I warn you," his eyes narrowed, and he scowled. "Do not think to deceive us. The road is ever perilous, and I trust nothing and no one. Set upon your work, and we'll part without any unpleasantness." Inheroth conceded with a swift bow, and immediately began his task. Moving into the water until he was knee-deep, he caught the rope from the barge's bitt and eased it slowly onto the shore. "Make yourselves comfortable, brothers," he said to the twins in Sindarin, inspecting the damage upon the stern. "This will take me until morning to repair." Then, he began conversing with the Men, ever cheerful and comfortable in discussion. |
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12:43 AM Jul 11