Once There Were Words

Writing is a passion many people experience after reading Tolkien's works. Come here to discuss and share your experiences with writing.

Re: Once There Were Words

Postby earendil81 » Fri Apr 19, 2013 2:28 pm

Anoriel's POV

Anoriel kept his eyes on the peredhel throughout the journey to the cave and back; he knew the choices he made to protect her, Rholarowyn and Nayaran did not settle well with the two shieldmaidens. But understanding the two women did not mean he would or could have chosen any differently; their lives were more important than his, his men's or anyone else's. As a testament to this, there were two bodies that had needed burying at Goronor's place and horses who would no longer carry riders, victims of the circumstances. He accepted that burden and he made his choices based on the knowledge that in this particular instance the lives of two women had more weight than the lives of many. Earendil should have known this though: was King Elessar not called Estel by his own? He was named hope as he was just that for the Dunedain of Arnor. Did she not understand that was what she and her friend had become? People would try to destroy them to suffocate the hope of those who wanted to stand for themselves, in the East but in the South too.

His thoughts went to Ryomer, Dewelgen and Tyrelles. He needed the men to travel fast to their respective destination; solitary horsemen would not catch people's attention especially when they all rode towards different places. Two Kings in Rohan and Gondor and a Prince in Ithilien needed to know that the conspiracy ran deeper than what they all had expected. Still now he had to make sure he saved one of his own as well as two dwarves who came to their help and he thankfully had what he needed to. At Goronor's house, he realized that he had to ask Eistaron to come with them; the man had not liked the idea of being used to control Rholarowyn. He had in fact even avoided the woman for fear of hurting her but he was wounded trying to protect her. Anoriel knew the choices were his burden; since he chose to ride from the South to alert Elessar that they were searching for Earendil he accepted that some choices would be hard to make. And now the choice was to save Eistaron's life for in his own way Goronor's brother had become more important than Anoriel. Faramir's former second-in-command might turn out to be Rholarowyn's path to healing.

Finally they reached the doors to the mines... Gasur - the dwarf who found Rholarowyn - bowed as they came back.
"Sir... Have you found what you wanted?"
Anoriel nodded as he was relieved of the body he carried; weighed by other burdens he had not realized how heavy the man was, even without his head.
"How are they?" He asked instead.
"The Lady Rholarowyn has worked to help but she was hoping for your return I understand. Tis a shame that Rorin had to be shaved. He will not be happy about this. But if it saves his life I will be glad for it."
"And where is she?"
"She is asleep Anoriel," Lienoril answered as he approached them. "Is she needed?"

Anoriel was tempted to answer negatively... And yet.
"She probably knows more about this than I do." And so he followed Lienoril to where the shieldmaiden had fallen asleep close to Eistaron, whose circumstances seemed to have turned dire. Yes he would need Rholarowyn's help if he were to save the man's life; and he knew he had to.
Never forgetting those who have passed into the West :rose:

Sharing a story with Rholarowyn: Once There Were Words

Laesha is taking her first steps in the RP world with Eilathen and a bunch of great characters in The Expected Party
Fan of Redemption: the Reckoning

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you
I have been changed for good.


It's funny how some distance
Makes everything seem small
And the fears that once controlled me
Can't get to me at all
It's time to see what I can do
To test the limits and break through
No right, no wrong, no rules for me
I'm free
User avatar
earendil81
In Love & Light

 
Posts: 5280
Joined: Thu Apr 04, 2002 8:09 am
Location: Somewhere beyond the sea
Top

Re: Once There Were Words

Postby Rholarowyn » Fri Apr 19, 2013 10:10 pm

Though still weary, she had now done all she could do. Once the cure was in her hands healing salves were mixed and applied while therapeutic broths were warmed and given. Now came the hardest part, the waiting.

A blanket had been raised at Rholarowyn’s request, a privacy barrier for Estaron if it all worked. The sheildmaiden knelt next to dying man and kept her hand upon his chest. it was a simple touch and yet one she hoped would provide him with a physical connection back to this world. Anoriel was at her side but not the others. She had asked Eari, Nayaran, and Lienoril to attend to the dwarves and to call at the first sign of a problem should there be one. As for Estaron, if a cure did begin to work, the man would be subjected to wicked convulsions. It would be best if they were the only ones to witness to it.

“His skin is beginning to warm.” Rholarowyn spoke softly to Anoriel. “If he has been given a choice, the battle should begin very soon.”

.
Image

So True the Arrow, So Steady the Hand

No word in your quiver goes errant,
no thought from your bow is misspent,
no image falls short of your target,
so true are the arrows thus sent.
Your heart with a steady compunction
pulls the bowstrings few others could ply,
your story does more than just function--
your steady hand helps my heart fly!

Thank you Parm for your wonderful poem. :heart:

Sharing another adventure with Eari in the Scriptorium: Once There Were Words
User avatar
Rholarowyn
Warrior Bard of the White Tower

 
Posts: 3020
Joined: Sat Mar 30, 2002 4:01 pm
Top

Re: Once There Were Words

Postby earendil81 » Sat Apr 20, 2013 2:02 pm

The two shield maidens looked tense as bowstrings, both of them ready to snap if for entirely different reasons. He could read in the peredhel the frustration of being kept in the dark as well as the helplessness of not knowing what the Easterling meant as he died. She knew it would soon be time to face what her mind would not recall but she tried to escape it still. The frustration was only her way to not face the helplessness; she was afraid of what would happen when she actually remembered. Anoriel knew she felt responsible for Ryomer's wound and she would not risk hurting someone else: the fight with the Easterling had allowed her to alleviate a little of the guilty she'd felt since they left the noble house in Tharbad but that was not enough. He also knew she found something in the cave that she would ask him about later. Sintarano had mentioned a pouch she'd retrieved from one of the bodies.

In Rholarowyn there was weariness and a sorrow so deep that somehow he believed that the blanket she had asked to give privacy to Eistaron was also a protection for her. Though the exhaustion was belied by the stubbornness she showed in helping the three men it finally showed when they were left alone. There was fear too though she might not have recognized it for that but the way her hand rested on Eistaron's chest as if to give him a reason to fight was revealing enough. She needed his coming back to life whether she knew it or not. Still he shielded some of his thoughts as she looked at him speaking softly.

“If he has been given a choice, the battle should begin very soon.”
That "if" was so significant; both women were so strong and yet seemed to constantly doubt themselves. Was it a woman's thing? Was it something that women were raised to feel in this world? And was it his responsibility to show them that they needn't always question what they thought was right? Maybe not outside but here it might. He laid his arm on the woman's shoulder; they could not break, not now.

"You most definitely have given him a choice Rholarowyn. And Eistaron is nothing if not a fighter." He had an inkling of what the battle would be, had seen some people die of the cure rather than the poison, but he trusted this man to win that war. "Keep hope, keep heart. He will need you to."
Never forgetting those who have passed into the West :rose:

Sharing a story with Rholarowyn: Once There Were Words

Laesha is taking her first steps in the RP world with Eilathen and a bunch of great characters in The Expected Party
Fan of Redemption: the Reckoning

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you
I have been changed for good.


It's funny how some distance
Makes everything seem small
And the fears that once controlled me
Can't get to me at all
It's time to see what I can do
To test the limits and break through
No right, no wrong, no rules for me
I'm free
User avatar
earendil81
In Love & Light

 
Posts: 5280
Joined: Thu Apr 04, 2002 8:09 am
Location: Somewhere beyond the sea
Top

Re: Once There Were Words

Postby Rholarowyn » Sun Apr 21, 2013 12:11 am

It helped his touch upon her shoulder, and while she did not turn her eyes away from Estaron’s labored breathing, Rholarowyn at least felt a slight sense of ease.

“I have not given him a choice Anoriel; I have given him a chance. The choice comes not from me but from a source greater... It does not happen much, especially to those of the West, but I see the signs here…have you not heard of The Sands Crossing?”

Anoriel was silent for sometime before he answered. “"I always thought it was a legend. Is it not so?"

“No, it is so.” She answered slowly, pausing as she reflected back on the event of many years ago. “Though not common, but it happened to me…perhaps it was then my fate with the East was sealed…I crossed over, my body still breathed but my spirit had journeyed on...once there I battled against an formless enemy. When I gained victory I was given a choice…I could enter the realm of the afterlife, free from the world of men, or return back...”

Estaron let out a low moan and the signs of agitation grew stronger in his body. Rholarowyn quickly responded by adjusting his head and loosening the blanket. Then she continued. “Later I was told that most are given the choice and then there is the battle, yet for me the battle came first…”

The patient let out another long moan and his body was suddenly drenched in sweat. Carefully the shieldmaiden grabbed the soft cloth, dunked it in a cool bowl of water and then placed it upon the man’s forehead. Sitting back upon her feet Rholarowyn knew it would not be long now. She briefly turned to the leader whose duty it was to protect her. His eyes were filled with concern and something else the shieldmaiden could not recognize but she spoke anyway.

“Anoriel, I am so weary of battle and death…”

.
Image

So True the Arrow, So Steady the Hand

No word in your quiver goes errant,
no thought from your bow is misspent,
no image falls short of your target,
so true are the arrows thus sent.
Your heart with a steady compunction
pulls the bowstrings few others could ply,
your story does more than just function--
your steady hand helps my heart fly!

Thank you Parm for your wonderful poem. :heart:

Sharing another adventure with Eari in the Scriptorium: Once There Were Words
User avatar
Rholarowyn
Warrior Bard of the White Tower

 
Posts: 3020
Joined: Sat Mar 30, 2002 4:01 pm
Top

Re: Once There Were Words

Postby earendil81 » Sun Apr 21, 2013 8:16 pm

The Sands Crossing? When the shield maiden mentioned it he was taken aback and it took much self control to not make a judgemental comment. He grew up in the South with such superstitions and yet he had never met anyone who had experienced it. He had come to believe that it was an old man's tale that one would tell children, a lesson that one could overcome obstacles and ever death. But it seemed it was not so; as much as lesson as it was, it was a true path, and the woman he was looking at once went through it. He understood then that the reason why so many died of the cure was that they lost the fight Rholarowyn was talking about. The woman's shoulders slumped as if she were overwhelmed by feelings too huge to carry but it almost disappeared as Eistaron called her attention.

Still the sense of weariness obviously returned after she dabbed his forehead with water and she finally admitted what it was that had weighed on her mind, on her soul.
“Anoriel, I am so weary of battle and death…”

How did a soldier answer that statement? Battle was his life, death an intrinsic part of it. How did a man answer it? Maybe some could, but he was not such a man. For a moment he wished the peredhel was there; it seemed this should be a conversation the two of them should have. And yet he could understand; Rholarowyn - and Earendil - had spent their entire lives fighting. They had done battle to be recognized as soldiers but even before that they had to fit in; Rholarowyn's Rohirrim blood made it difficult to be accepted. That he could relate too; a crossbred they called him when he was a child and for much longer. Still the two shield maiden had to fight for being just what they were: women, wives, mothers had even been a fight. Even now they had to fight to live their lives, hunted through three countries by men who would not let them be. Was it any surprise that both of them seemed on the verge of collapsing?

Still he had no easy answer to offer the woman in front of him; the only thing he could do was being honest.
"Battle has defined me for too long Rholarowyn... But maybe it is time for you to leave it behind." Truth was it would probably not happen before the threat to her and her son was dealt with. Nonetheless she had used healing skills just now to help others. He looked at Eistaron whose body was shaken by spasms, visible signs of the fight he was facing just now. "The battle may be Eistaron's to fight but you have offered him a chance. Won't you take this as hope of healing for yourself?"
Never forgetting those who have passed into the West :rose:

Sharing a story with Rholarowyn: Once There Were Words

Laesha is taking her first steps in the RP world with Eilathen and a bunch of great characters in The Expected Party
Fan of Redemption: the Reckoning

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you
I have been changed for good.


It's funny how some distance
Makes everything seem small
And the fears that once controlled me
Can't get to me at all
It's time to see what I can do
To test the limits and break through
No right, no wrong, no rules for me
I'm free
User avatar
earendil81
In Love & Light

 
Posts: 5280
Joined: Thu Apr 04, 2002 8:09 am
Location: Somewhere beyond the sea
Top

Re: Once There Were Words

Postby Rholarowyn » Wed Apr 24, 2013 7:51 am

‘Leave battle? Hope for healing for herself?’ Anoriel could have spoken in the dark language of Mordor for the impact his statements had. Rholarowyn stared into the man’s dark eyes trying to comprehend the meaning of his words, yet the shieldmaiden had no mental file in her thinking to consider these suggestions were even an option. Anger, rage, and vengeance, were what had driven her since the age of 14, determined to personally regain the balance, through deadly force if necessary, for the wrongs done against her and her family.

Yet the shieldmaiden had heard similar words before. A wise man of the East who was also a Shaman of his people; “There are always choices Rholarowyn.” He had once said in the darkness of night. “Perhaps not in the beginning, when such life events tear at your very soul exposing you to the deep root of unfathomable pain, but afterward, you always have the choice in how you respond…”

The shieldmaiden’s thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Estaron’s violent thrashing. He had entered the Shadow Cast, the long and final sequence of his impending recovery. The journey back could sometimes be more wicked that the battle itself and it appeared this would be the path Goronor’s brother would be taking.

“Anoriel, his feet!” Rholarowyn yelled as she addressed the man’s head. Grabbing another Dwarvish blanket from the nearby resource pile, she immediately placed it between the man’s head and the stone cold ground he had been pounding it against.

Several minutes passed with the two doing their best to allow Estaron’s body the movement it needed without allowing any further harm. Finally an exhausted calm began to over take his body. A crimson red began to seep through the cloth wrap around his shoulder and Rholarowyn moved to apply pressure. A quarter of an hour passed before she and Anoriel were finally able to change the dressing and could now sit back and watch Estaron’s slow, rhythmic breathing.

“It is done.” The shieldmaiden whispered for only Anoriel to hear. “He has returned to the world of men.,,”

.
Image

So True the Arrow, So Steady the Hand

No word in your quiver goes errant,
no thought from your bow is misspent,
no image falls short of your target,
so true are the arrows thus sent.
Your heart with a steady compunction
pulls the bowstrings few others could ply,
your story does more than just function--
your steady hand helps my heart fly!

Thank you Parm for your wonderful poem. :heart:

Sharing another adventure with Eari in the Scriptorium: Once There Were Words
User avatar
Rholarowyn
Warrior Bard of the White Tower

 
Posts: 3020
Joined: Sat Mar 30, 2002 4:01 pm
Top

Re: Once There Were Words

Postby earendil81 » Fri Apr 26, 2013 1:45 pm

The look she turned upon him was not an easy one to see: Anoriel knew how both women came to battle but where the peredhel seemed to have left some of her anger behind, it shone clear and bright in Rholarowyn's gaze, layered with confusion that someone could tell her what he just said and expect an answer. She turned away from whatever thoughts went through her mind to help Eistaron. Only escaping them would not resolve the challenge they issued. They were so alike these two shield maidens of Gondor...

"It is done.” The shieldmaiden whispered for only Anoriel to hear. “He has returned to the world of men.”

He looked at the man whom he called friend, then back at her and asked in the same voice as she did, that no one - maybe not even Earendil - would hear.
"But have you really Rholarowyn?" There were other questions he would or could ask but this one was at the core of it all.

Anoriel could not even try and shape an idea of what her answer would be; he was not even sure whether he meant this as a challenge for her or as something for her to ponder. But he knew that if they did not hold onto hope neither of the women would survive this and so he needed them to start finding their way back from their darkness, whether it was one they were conscious of - as Rholarowyn seemed to be - or one that they did not even know they had inside. The march through the mine would be a journey in the dark, but a necessary one, before they found the light at the other end.
Never forgetting those who have passed into the West :rose:

Sharing a story with Rholarowyn: Once There Were Words

Laesha is taking her first steps in the RP world with Eilathen and a bunch of great characters in The Expected Party
Fan of Redemption: the Reckoning

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you
I have been changed for good.


It's funny how some distance
Makes everything seem small
And the fears that once controlled me
Can't get to me at all
It's time to see what I can do
To test the limits and break through
No right, no wrong, no rules for me
I'm free
User avatar
earendil81
In Love & Light

 
Posts: 5280
Joined: Thu Apr 04, 2002 8:09 am
Location: Somewhere beyond the sea
Top

Re: Once There Were Words

Postby Rholarowyn » Tue Apr 30, 2013 7:45 am

“Have I what?” The shieldmaiden whispered after a long pause. Her mind either did not understand the question or the lady was not quite as weary as she thought. Her mind sensed judgment and quickly retreated from the implication of his words. The air grew still and all noise around her silenced. Rholarowyn’s eyes remained fixed on the sleeping man in front of her and did not leave his face, though she did wrap the long piece of hair that had escaped the leather cord, binding her long blonde hair, and wrapped it behind her ear.

“I have returned to the West, is that not all that matters?” Yet as soon as the words left were spoken aloud a deepening chill passed through her entire being and her body reacted with a strangling shiver. Anoriel move toward her, as if to offer protection or warmth, yet the woman immediately drew back. “Don’t! She ordered loudly as her eyes directly met his and then she drastically lowered her voice. “You know of many things Anoriel, many dark and evil things, perhaps more than I, but do not think you know them all, and do not claim to think you know my path.” The shieldmaiden then lowered her eyes again and focused on the look of serenity upon Estaron’s deeply tanned face.

"I do not believe I know that many things Rholarowyn. Definitely not all. Neither do I think I know your path; nor Earendil's for that matter. However I do know very clearly what it means to be in the West but not of the West. At least never entirely." For some reason Anoriel felt he might as well have been talking to a wall... defenses held up high to protect a heart hurt too many times? Who was he to say it was wrong? He sighed; he knew from the events with Earendil that pushing might just be the wrong thing to do.

"My apologies. I did not mean to assume. We are here to help you through this trip... only sometimes the journey is not only a physical one but also one of the heart and soul. If you wish me to leave, I shall." Though the man did not move and waited, there was a resonance in Anoriel’s voice, a quality that Rholarowyn had never heard before from one whose homeland was from the South. Concern? Compassion? "No.” her breath barely exhaled loud enough for the word to be heard. Rholarowyn’s eyes turned again to meet his gaze. It was a pivotal moment between the two. She needed him to respect her, but more importantly she needed to respect herself. Weary or not, this was not the time for retreat or avoidance, and any further denial could bring doom of them all. Taking a deep breath she mentally braced herself as she spoke.

“Anoriel, I have returned to the West, but I do not think this is what you mean.”

.
Image

So True the Arrow, So Steady the Hand

No word in your quiver goes errant,
no thought from your bow is misspent,
no image falls short of your target,
so true are the arrows thus sent.
Your heart with a steady compunction
pulls the bowstrings few others could ply,
your story does more than just function--
your steady hand helps my heart fly!

Thank you Parm for your wonderful poem. :heart:

Sharing another adventure with Eari in the Scriptorium: Once There Were Words
User avatar
Rholarowyn
Warrior Bard of the White Tower

 
Posts: 3020
Joined: Sat Mar 30, 2002 4:01 pm
Top

Re: Once There Were Words

Postby earendil81 » Sat May 11, 2013 4:33 pm

"No, indeed.” Anoriel whispered back. But how could he phrase this if she did not understand his meaning? How could he say this in a way that would be neither confrontational nor demeaning? He hesitated. “As soldiers, warriors you and I have had to face man’s mortality whether in battle or in our personal lives.” He paused… “We lose people Rholarowyn. But some losses cut deeper than others. And when these happen we cut ourselves from our fellow men, or women. Anger, revenge or grief… they’re all powerful feelings. Necessary ones maybe, but they can be overwhelming. It’s easy sometimes even comfortable to drown in them.” He knew that intimately even more so than many soldiers did. He sighed. “Don't give up on the world of men. It is imperfect but there is good in it, in people. Will you not try to heal? If not for you for your son?”

The rumbling of other voices both dwarves and men returned to the shieldmaiden’s awareness, though she had no inclination to listen or understand the meaning of their words. Anoriel spoke of a path, the path of healing…what world awaited her if she willingly chose this course? Knowingly her anger and need for vengeance had driven her to master the skills she now had. Swords, daggers, bows, and piercing arrows were all means she used to correct the imbalance the brutal hand of fate had once dealt. Redemption too had been attained and yet it wasn’t enough. Rage released to the death had only affirmed death…there had been no peace. Today’s encounter had been no different, redemption had been attained once again, a headless corpse was stowed nearby, a golden, jeweled necklace now hung from her neck, yet the comfort, the much needed reward of peace was still missing. How long had the illusion of power drawn her like a moth to a flame? The quest for her personal vendetta had only been the seed, driven until she found herself in a forest so dense nothing else made sense and so the pursuit continued. Condemn those who chose evil over good, eliminate those who’s needs and desires thwarted the free peoples of Middle Earth, and by blade or bow eradicate those who would destroy that which she deemed important. Were these not all noble efforts to benefit all?

Another chill ran down her spine causing her body to shiver once again. Rholarowyn’s head dropped low as she tightly wrapped her arms around her chest and clamped her eyes shut. “Anoriel,” she finally whispered, “I have been living a lie.”

Anoriel did not move; Rholarowyn had refused his coming closer moments before. So he only reached out with his hand resting it on her arm for only an instant. He had no wish of being too forward or to cause her to recoil. He also did not want to ignore her obvious need for answers he might not have; surprised as he was that she should open to him, he could not cut her off. It might be the path to something new for her, but what could he say? Everyone was living a lie... No it would not ring true... Some people did.
"And there is a way out of it Rholarowyn. If you only take the first step."

Again she looked up at the Southron man with her deep green eyes raw with angst. The shieldmaiden had been here before, similar words had been spoken to her not so long ago, though she had expected it from the Elves, especially one who was skilled with the healing arts. Now Anoriel, a man whose heritage emerged from the South, the race that had caused so much of her pain, was the one speaking to her of such things. He held her gaze and in his eyes she too saw something akin to heartache, it lasted only a moment but in that moment she knew the words that he spoke held a meaning went beyond the body; he was speaking of a deeper healing, one that could provide restoration into the depths of her very being.

The woman turned away, feigning a need to check on the resting man beside them; breathing was calm, pulse rate was normal, skin was relatively cool to the touch. Rholarowyn paused and just watched Eistaron while she considered the situation. His path, while not easy, would be simpler, to heal physically one needed rest, treatment, medicine, healthy food, and assistance.

There was another long pause before she finally broke the silence with another whisper. “Anoriel, and just what is the first step one takes when they wish to bring healing to their own soul?”

A tough question again and as all the questions she'd asked there was an underlying tone of dread. It seemed she feared whatever answer he might give; was she afraid he would judge her? He laughed softly but there was sadness there. He had to take that same path, years before... not an easy one.
"Some people say that helping one you consider an enemy is a first step. It is not one I know I could make." He paused and considered. There were some reasons why Anoriel did not look too deep if he did not have to but it seemed both shield maidens would make him look deep into himself once more. "Forgiveness Rholarowyn. Forgive yourself. That is a powerful first step."
Never forgetting those who have passed into the West :rose:

Sharing a story with Rholarowyn: Once There Were Words

Laesha is taking her first steps in the RP world with Eilathen and a bunch of great characters in The Expected Party
Fan of Redemption: the Reckoning

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you
I have been changed for good.


It's funny how some distance
Makes everything seem small
And the fears that once controlled me
Can't get to me at all
It's time to see what I can do
To test the limits and break through
No right, no wrong, no rules for me
I'm free
User avatar
earendil81
In Love & Light

 
Posts: 5280
Joined: Thu Apr 04, 2002 8:09 am
Location: Somewhere beyond the sea
Top

Re: Once There Were Words

Postby Rholarowyn » Fri Aug 23, 2013 10:34 pm

The silence between the two had lingered far too long and Rholarowyn knew it. Was he testing her? Challenging her? Pushing her to go beyond another limit? It didn’t matter, she sensed he knew something but would not state anything more. And all this talk about forgiveness, was it a diversion?

With courage of heart she looked up and made sure her eyes met his and it was there the shieldmaiden felt as though she was looking into a mirror. He knew warfare and battle but he also knew of loss and abandonment. All was etched into the lines of his face as well as in the darkness of his eyes. It was Rholarowyn who finally broke their gaze.

Looking down at the exhausted man she reached out and gently pushed his shoulder rousing him from sleep. He replied with a stifled mumble before he gradually opened his eyes.

“Rholarowyn,” he whispered.

“Yes,” she replied leaning in.

Eistaron’s lips moved slowly, “I saw you…there…you were there.”

“Where?” she answered softly.

“In the…desert…with the others…but I could…I could not…I could not save….” The man suddenly became visibly upset.

“Eistaron,” she quickly interrupted, “it was a vision…it does not mean what you saw there will happen here. They are symbols..."

The man squeezed his eyes shut but nodded his head in understanding.

“Are you hungry?” she finally asked when he appeared to calm down.

Again he nodded his head yes.

“I will be back.” She stated before rising to her feet but a misstep prevented her from standing completely and the Southron man quickly reached out to brace her arm.

“Thank you.” She whispered to Anoriel as she regained her balance all the while making sure her gaze did not meet his.

*****

Lienoril had been keeping company with Eari though neither had spoken much, but when he saw the sheildmaiden leave the private area he swiftly stood up and made is way to the curtain blanket and then slipped in behind it.

Eistaron eyes were closed but he was breathing, a good sign, and for the moment Anoriel appeared lost in thought. It was almost a minute later before the Gondorian cleared his throat.

“How is he?” The Gondorian finally asked.

.
Image

So True the Arrow, So Steady the Hand

No word in your quiver goes errant,
no thought from your bow is misspent,
no image falls short of your target,
so true are the arrows thus sent.
Your heart with a steady compunction
pulls the bowstrings few others could ply,
your story does more than just function--
your steady hand helps my heart fly!

Thank you Parm for your wonderful poem. :heart:

Sharing another adventure with Eari in the Scriptorium: Once There Were Words
User avatar
Rholarowyn
Warrior Bard of the White Tower

 
Posts: 3020
Joined: Sat Mar 30, 2002 4:01 pm
Top

Re: Once There Were Words

Postby earendil81 » Mon Aug 26, 2013 8:08 am

Thoughts chasing one another... whether Earendil wanted it or not they always returned to the man's last words. These resounded in her mind as if echoed a thousandfold by her own voice. "Stained soul..." She had used the same words when speaking to Ryomer, how she felt about killing Khalid. But there had been a message in that Easterling's words one he intended her to understand. And for some reason she felt it had to do with what Anoriel was keeping from her.

Lienoril had staid with her but they did not exchange that many words... warriors in silence recovering from the battle just fought. It was the way of Gondor. She knew in Rohan the night before and after a battle were spent around the fire, sometimes drinking more often than not singing. Not here. And even if they had been inclined to do so there was something forbidding about the Mines. Her eyes wandered to Nayaran first silently dogged by Sintarano who was helping the dwarves in whatever way they might need. The people of Moria seemed to have welcomed him in ways they rarely did strangers... But as her thoughts came back to the Easterling her gaze returned to the covered space where Rhoe and Anoriel were trying to save Eistaron. Some of what transpired she heard but mostly she let the noises of the common room drown the whispers of conversation coming from behind the curtain.

She noticed when her friend left the space, almost staggering with exhaustion... and Lienoril left to join his leader in the private space. She stood and followed her friend whom she joined as she gathered some food for Eistaron she guessed. But what of her?
"Rholarowyn?" She whispered unwilling to startle her friend. To no avail though, it seemed the shield maiden had been lost in her thoughts. Her gaze was veiled and filled with fear? sorrow? She was not sure. But Rhoe's face was lined with exhaustion and she looked as if she could drop right there. Her eyes were red, almost feverish. She grasped her friend's arm; her hands were too warm. "You have to sleep friend. You barely stand on your feet." Rholarowyn did not seem to even comprehend what she was saying. Sighing Eari took the plate from Rho's hands.

"Nayaran," she called knowing that Sintarano would not be far behind. The boy was here in a moment. "Will you show your mother where she can sleep. I'll be with you in a moment." When her son took her hand Rholarowyn seemed to return to her body. She looked as if she were to say something, maybe that she had to go back to Eistaron... but she would be no good to the man if she fell ill so. "Rho, they can feed him. You need rest." She didn't wait for her friend's answer and walked towards Sintarano who had staid back. "Bring him the food. Nayaran will take care of her and I'll look after him."

The dark haired man nodded and disappeared where Lienoril had gone. It might become crowded with the four men inside but she did not need worry about it for now. Rho was her concern; she grabbed some more food and some tea the dwarves had brewed for their wounded. When she reached her friend and Nayaran the boy looked concerned. His mother was seated but did not look good.
"Rhoe?" She asked softly. "Will you eat something?"
Never forgetting those who have passed into the West :rose:

Sharing a story with Rholarowyn: Once There Were Words

Laesha is taking her first steps in the RP world with Eilathen and a bunch of great characters in The Expected Party
Fan of Redemption: the Reckoning

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you
I have been changed for good.


It's funny how some distance
Makes everything seem small
And the fears that once controlled me
Can't get to me at all
It's time to see what I can do
To test the limits and break through
No right, no wrong, no rules for me
I'm free
User avatar
earendil81
In Love & Light

 
Posts: 5280
Joined: Thu Apr 04, 2002 8:09 am
Location: Somewhere beyond the sea
Top

Re: Once There Were Words

Postby Rholarowyn » Fri Aug 30, 2013 9:36 pm

It was a weariness that went beyond muscle and sinew and intruded deeper into her psyche alone. Every cell in Rholarowyn’s body screamed for breath and yet a true inhale did not alleviate the sensation.

"Rhoe?" Eari asked softly. "Will you eat something?"

The shieldmaiden’s stomach churned at the thought as she stared and the steamy bowl of chucky meat and carrots placed in front of her. In her peripheral gaze her eyes caught the once treasured necklace still draped around her neck. Without thinking she ripped it from her body and handed what beads were still strung to Eari.

“Please, get this out of my sight!”

Nayaran scrambled to retrieve the other beads and gems that had escaped and were now rolling across the floor in various directions.

“This will do.” The shieldmaiden said to her friend as she grabbed a small loaf of crusty warm bread and brought a small piece to her mouth.

Nayaran retrieved the loose jewellery and gave his finding to Eari just as Rholarowyn had finished eating the third piece of bread.

“You need rest.” Eari’s voice sounded almost like an order.

“I know, but…”

Her warrior sister placed her hand upon Rhoe’s forearm, a signal from long ago.

“Yes, alright.” The shield maiden nodded and then leaned back into the soft pile of blankets and bedding material that the dwarves had provided. It took only a few moments for the wave of exhaustion to wash over her and she eased into a deep sleep. Yet it was a sleep filled with dreams and visions of her life of long ago, Rohan and Gondor, Moujhadin and Boromir, capture and escape, and refuge.

When she awoke feeling better she noted that Nayaran was gone and yet Eari was still nearby.

“How long?” She asked her warrior sister as she slowly pushed herself up and rubbed the deep ache of her bow arm.

.
Image

So True the Arrow, So Steady the Hand

No word in your quiver goes errant,
no thought from your bow is misspent,
no image falls short of your target,
so true are the arrows thus sent.
Your heart with a steady compunction
pulls the bowstrings few others could ply,
your story does more than just function--
your steady hand helps my heart fly!

Thank you Parm for your wonderful poem. :heart:

Sharing another adventure with Eari in the Scriptorium: Once There Were Words
User avatar
Rholarowyn
Warrior Bard of the White Tower

 
Posts: 3020
Joined: Sat Mar 30, 2002 4:01 pm
Top

Re: Once There Were Words

Postby earendil81 » Sun Sep 01, 2013 10:09 am

She sighed with relief as Rhoe finally fell asleep; whatever had happened her friend was struggling with too many feelings. Eari knew she was as well but not in the way her sister was. She looked down at the woman whose chest soon rose and fell with the regular rhythm of sleep. Hopefully there would be no nightmares... though it seemed they had come to haunt her friend in her waking hours. Dropping her gaze to the broken necklace, Eari wondered what could have caused such a violent reaction. And where did it come from? Rholarowyn had not worn it before. Softly she picked one of the gems; it was splashed with blood... she turned to where the man's head had been tossed. Could it be?

"Earendil..." Nayaran's soft voice called her. The boy was sitting right beside her some more beads in his hands. She opened hers to receive them noticing the boy was handling them almost reverently. She hesitated just a moment before she asked.
"Nayaran, to whom does this belong?"
The boy's eyes shone, as if he were trying not to cry, or maybe as if he were looking back into the past and into memories that may not have been joyful. Yet there was love.
"It belonged to my father," he whispered. She understood then; anger and pain. Love and loss.
"Oh Rhoe..." She could hear the break in her own voice. She placed her hand on the boy's hand gently. "I am sorry Nayaran."
"Why does she not want it?" His voice was laced with sorrow and maybe resentment.
"Oh child, she does. She wants it but it is painful to want it."
"I don't understand."

How did she explain this to him without telling stories that might not be hers to tell? She took a deep breath...
"Let me tell you a story Nayaran about a man named Halbarad. He was a good man and cousin to King Elessar in Minas Tirith." The boy was looking at her attentively, as if holding onto every word that it might make sense of his mother's behaviour. "I grew up in his household, a sister if you will to him and daughter to his mother. The truth is that he took care of me as a father would and I loved him very much. But one day after one of our friends died... it was my fault... I argued with him, I refused to talk to him. I was angry and afraid and I did not want anyone to understand me. I left my home, left him without any words except those of anger. But I loved him. When the great war took place he found Elessar and rode with him to the Pelennor knowing that he was riding to his death. But that he did. And so he died before I could ask for his forgiveness, before I could tell him that I loved him. The King kept one of his belongings for me... when he gave it to me I did what your mother just did. I threw it away. It was too painful to remember him and yet I did not want to forget."
"Did you take it? In the end?" The child breathed.
"I could not. I broke it and it could not be repaired." She looked at the beads. "But your father's charmed necklace, we can put it back together you and I."
"Can we?" There was a sudden hope in his voice.
"Yes... if you bring me my satchel." He dashed away and within minutes was back with her belongings.

It was not long before she found a leather cord; it was not as well worked as the one that had held the necklace, maybe a little crude even but hopefully it would do.
"Do you remember how it was set?" She asked the boy who nodded.
In the silence of the space they sat, the two of them worked at putting the necklace back in its intended state. It took them quite a number of tries as Nayaran would look at it and say it was not right. Finally after almost three hours she held it out for him to look at; all the gems and beads were on the leather cord for the second time only. The intensity in his face and gaze was such that it caught her unaware... And she suddenly saw a glimpse of what sort of man this child would be.
"Are you alright Earendil?" He asked.
"Yes..."
"You seemed to be looking right through me..."
"No... looking at you. You have your mother's passion." She smiled and so did he. "So does it look right?"
"It does. It is as it was."
"Good... Now, it's your turn to go and have a rest."
"I don't want to... I want to be here when she wakes up."
"I know you do Nayaran. But you need rest for the rest of the journey."
He seemed to want to refuse, looking at his mother brows creased with concern, but then nodded and left as she put the necklace in a pocket of her satchel.

Nayaran was gone for a little more than an hour when Rholarowyn woke up. Lienoril had come and gone making sure all was well and was relieved to see the shield maiden sleeping. He had left some more food for the two of them and news about the wounded. Her friend looked rested somewhat but not wholly recovered; there were lines of pain on her face as she rubbed her bow arm.
"How long?"
Eari's lips quirked in a small grin.
"Not long enough Rhoe. Not quite four hours." She placed a hand on her friend's forearm before the other woman tried to stand. "Don't. Stay still. You have to eat some more; bread won't last long enough."
She placed a bowl of the light broth Lienoril had brought as it seemed her friend would not contemplate anything else at that time. Maybe later she would take some of the dried fruit. Her friend nursed the bowl not quite ready to eat apparently.
"What has happened?" Rhoe asked.
"Since you fell asleep, not much. Or at least that I know of. I remained with you. Lienoril said all the wounded are getting better. You and Nayaran have saved a number of lives today." She paused for a moment looking at her friend. "How are you feeling?"
She had an inkling but maybe Rhoe would talk... maybe she would open up. Too much pain, too much anger locked within. And anger was never enough... at least rarely. Just an easy way to handle the pain but not deal with it.
Never forgetting those who have passed into the West :rose:

Sharing a story with Rholarowyn: Once There Were Words

Laesha is taking her first steps in the RP world with Eilathen and a bunch of great characters in The Expected Party
Fan of Redemption: the Reckoning

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you
I have been changed for good.


It's funny how some distance
Makes everything seem small
And the fears that once controlled me
Can't get to me at all
It's time to see what I can do
To test the limits and break through
No right, no wrong, no rules for me
I'm free
User avatar
earendil81
In Love & Light

 
Posts: 5280
Joined: Thu Apr 04, 2002 8:09 am
Location: Somewhere beyond the sea
Top

Re: Once There Were Words

Postby Rholarowyn » Sun Dec 29, 2013 9:58 am

2 weeks later


Their journey through the refurbished mines was about to end. Soon the group, Lienoril, Sintanaro, Anoriel, and the others, which were being guided by 3 dwarves, would be returning to the outside world. The opportunity to rest had not only been welcomed but necessary. Estaron had needed time to fully recover from the poison that had almost claimed his life and had sent him to the Sands Crossing. The Sands Crossing, a spirit realm of the East where one’s fate hangs between the abyss of life and death until the testing is complete and the choice made.

It was also during this time, Rholarowyn shockingly discovered that not only were the dwarves mostly well behaved and relatively gracious hosts but that they did not care of who she was or where her past had taken her. Acceptance from the inner mountain dwellers was not something she had expected or dismissed. The shieldmaiden was now fifth in line with Nayaran and Eari directly behind her. Their footsteps echoed into the depths of darkness as Olian, the lead dwarf, paused and held up his torch to illuminate the darkened shadows ahead.

“The Bridge of Khazad-dûm.” His rough, deep voice penetrated the damp air.

“It HAS been rebuilt,” Sintanaro whispered behind her.

Once reaching the stone edge Rholarowyn paused and stared down at the deep chasm below. This was the place where the Fellowship had splintered into 8. A moment of respect was given as the woman held her place. Once finished she glanced back to Eari and wondered what thoughts were running through her warrior sister’s mind. The two had talked during their time at rest as well as during their journey through the mines. They had spoken of the Fellowship and the fact their group was retracing many of the steps here that the nine had taken 13 years ago.

“If walls could talk.” Rholarowyn once murmured to Eari when they found themselves alone by an evening fire. They knew much of the story well and yet neither knew exactly when the ring had begun to twist the mind of Boromir. He had redeemed himself and they both had found solace in that knowledge, but being among the very halls he had once traveled brought back old memories, emotions, and some speculation for the man they both still held with great affection.

The bridge had been rebuilt since the time of the Fellowship’s journey. It was now wider so that travelers could walk two by two; however, today this company followed single file. While the urgency to reach Rohan was clear, most of the group was not rushing to be free of the protection the ancient walls offered.

When the travelers and their guides finally emerged from the mines on the eastern side, the golden hour of dawn was peeking through the stormy grey clouds. Birdsongs were greeting the day, their notes being carried along on the cool, crisp air of spring. It was less than a half hour later when Gasur emerged with another group of dwarves who were leading their horses. They had been taken through the mines by the way of a different route. While the dwarves were still not horsemen, each animal was tacked properly and had been loaded with additional food and necessary supplies. This additional load, however, did not diminish the animals jittery dance of anticipation which was being fuelled by the morning chill.

“Thank you.” Lienoril said to the dwarfish leader Olian after he and Anoriel had separated from the main group. A worn dusty pouch filled with several gold coins was given in payment for the Dwarves hospitality; though a moment later Lienoril’s hand received a rolled, tied, six inch piece of leather.

“What is this?” The Gondorian asked with a surprised tone.

“It is something you may find useful,” the dwarfish leader replied. “Or you may not,” though he grinned only for a moment before looking over to the group, specifically to the women and the child. “Your quest is not an easy one…” his gaze then returned to the two men “…but we have done our best to keep you out of trouble while you were here.” Olian then motioned to the other dwarves though he waited a moment longer. “Safe travels to you and your company.” Turning away he made his way to the mines along with the others.

Lienoril glanced down as the leather roll tied roughly with a think, black cord.

“Here,” the Gondorian reached out and handed it to Anoriel. “It may be better if your find out what this contains.”

.
Image

So True the Arrow, So Steady the Hand

No word in your quiver goes errant,
no thought from your bow is misspent,
no image falls short of your target,
so true are the arrows thus sent.
Your heart with a steady compunction
pulls the bowstrings few others could ply,
your story does more than just function--
your steady hand helps my heart fly!

Thank you Parm for your wonderful poem. :heart:

Sharing another adventure with Eari in the Scriptorium: Once There Were Words
User avatar
Rholarowyn
Warrior Bard of the White Tower

 
Posts: 3020
Joined: Sat Mar 30, 2002 4:01 pm
Top

Re: Once There Were Words

Postby earendil81 » Wed Jan 29, 2014 8:29 pm

The journey had been a dark one for all that the dwarves had strived to make it as comfortable as they could. She had hidden it as best as she could but Eari had felt an almost unbearable need to rush through the mines even though every one had needed the rest and the safety they provided. There was of course the fact that they retraced the path followed by Boromir and the reminder that if she had spoken the day he left he might have returned to Minas Tirith. It is not given to anyone to know what the past could have been once a choice was made. Still it was not easy and only making that journey with Rholarowyn knowing her friend struggled with much the same emotions and understood what she might feel allowed a measure of acceptance.

But of she must admit it she also did not care for the constant sensation of being surrounded by walls of stone that would not let her escape; every so often they seemed to shrink around her and she struggled to breathe. She was held for too many days in the darkness to care for taking such a trip. Once she had travelled to Helm’s Deep, for Herger’s sake, and though the children marveled at cave she had not enjoyed it. And the perpetual exhilaration of the dwarves at being back in these wonderful halls did not help; she could not find beauty in here. There was too much history, too many dead in these walls: the dwarves knew of these – after all they had lost Balin and so many others before the War – but could they not feel them like spirits lingering here though they no longer belonged? They all weighed on her. Not that she knew the ones who passed nor could she see them but the entire place held onto an aura of darkness that she could not shake. She had not complained nor expressed anything more than the discomfort one would feel when a sense of urgency has settled on them and any delay makes them antsy and fidgety.

Yet as if he knew Anoriel had sought her out a number of evenings speaking with her of everything and anything really, asking about her children and the life she had made in Rohan. She knew she had not been particularly forthcoming about it though she once trusted the man with her life. But that mostly had to do with the fact that she knew though that she would have to go to a darker place soon and face whatever it was Anoriel kept hidden from her for now. Here was not the place though.
Rhoe, whether she realized or not, also had spent time with her discussing the past and Boromir. Sometimes long into the night they would remember the man whose strength and charisma had proved as crucial to holding Osgiliath for as long as Gondor did as any army. It was good to speak of him with someone who had known him in much the same way she had. Not only as the warrior but as the man, the one with failings rarely acknowledged…
Even Sintarano made the effort to sit with her and offer a game of card when she could or would not sleep that it might take her mind off the darkness that lingered within. It did not always achieve its purpose but it did allow her a measure of peace when she could not walk the Elves’ dreams.

Finally someone, Olian, announced they had almost reached the East entrance with a name that rang deep and brought other memories, not only of Boromir, but of what once dwelled in these halls. She belonged to the Eldars as much as the Edain and she had not forgotten Morgoth’s Balrog. It was a dark journey the nine walked and here the fellowship had been sundered a first time, when Gandalf fell. She would feel better once they had crossed it; she could almost see the recesses in the rocks where goblins and orcs alike would have sat to shoot their arrows at the group as they tried to traverse the bridge.

Eventually they emerged out of the mountain and she closed her eyes for a moment letting the sun caress her face. She knew that when she looked upon the world again she would see the outskirts of what once was home, now mostly empty. Lothlorien was left bereft of life since Galadriel took the ship to Vinyamar. It was still early in the season and the mallyrn were as deep a green as they could be; the dark canopy called to her in ways she did not want to acknowledge. Yet another piece of the past… why was it so hard? She wanted back to the present, back to her family. She could not deny though that the past now interfered; whatever happened in Rhun some sixteen years before endangered her present. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. The smell of the mallyrn was lingering in the wind though it did not seem as strong as it once had. She guessed it to be her imagination as melancholy gave its texture to the odour. She was becoming more like her father’s kin as the years went by… the realization caused her to chuckle softly.
“It’s nice to hear that sound.” Sintarano commented rather kindly. “What do we owe the pleasure?”
“Lothlorien.” She answered pointing to the woods.
“Ah… I do not expect we will go that way.”
“No. We probably won’t. But I was realizing that it seems to feel more like home now that it no longer is than it ever did before.” That was not exactly that but she was unsure how to explain the sensation she had experienced.
“Is it not where you went after they found out your… secret in Minas Tirith?”
“Yes… War came to us as surely as it did to Gondor and yet I could not wait to return to the White City. I never really felt I belonged here. And now I find myself regretting the old days that I never truly enjoyed or appreciated.” It was ironic that she felt closer to her Elvish kin now that she had embraced the mortal side of her life and all that came with it.
"Is that West Lothlorien?" Nayaran asked. Eari wondered at that for a moment before she remembered that in Erin Lasgalen they had taken to calling some parts of the wood East Lothlorien so it would stand to reason that they might refer to the Galadhrim's dwelling as West Lothlorien... well no longer their dwelling she thought with a hint of sorrow; so many had left with Galadriel and those who remained on this side of the sea had gone to Imladris with Celeborn.
Never forgetting those who have passed into the West :rose:

Sharing a story with Rholarowyn: Once There Were Words

Laesha is taking her first steps in the RP world with Eilathen and a bunch of great characters in The Expected Party
Fan of Redemption: the Reckoning

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you
I have been changed for good.


It's funny how some distance
Makes everything seem small
And the fears that once controlled me
Can't get to me at all
It's time to see what I can do
To test the limits and break through
No right, no wrong, no rules for me
I'm free
User avatar
earendil81
In Love & Light

 
Posts: 5280
Joined: Thu Apr 04, 2002 8:09 am
Location: Somewhere beyond the sea
Top

Re: Once There Were Words

Postby earendil81 » Sun Mar 09, 2014 9:09 pm

Anoriel’s POV

They had forded the Celebrant and the Nimrodel following Eärendil’s lead; she was the one who knew this part best. He had relinquished some measure of leadership to her; she had shouldered the responsibility without fail and thankfully without doubt. She had guided them through the area as if she had always lived there. He had to remind himself that she had lived here for some seven years of her life. Sintarano and Lienoril made no comment on the arrangement for which he was grateful; the truth though was that even if they had wanted to they knew as well as he did that she knew this side of the Misty Mountains a lot better than any of them. Once in a while he noticed the peredhel cast glances towards Lothlorien; he could read the yearning in her posture even though they all knew passing through the Golden Wood would not shorten a trip she already reckoned too long. Besides they were riding horses and not boats that would bring them down the Anduin; and he did not expect either woman to actually want to go anywhere near the Rauros Falls where the late Warden of Gondor fell. He had not even mentioned the rumours he heard about some people walking till the Falls to offer remembrance of Boromir’s last deed.

So Eärendil had ridden in the front though more often than not she had fallen back to ride beside Nayaran and Rholarowyn. The peredhel seemed fond of the boy who may have been a year or two younger than her own; mostly he did not hear what they spoke of but sometimes he did and realized that she spoke to him as one would to someone older. He had noticed how intently she sometimes looked at the boy in the mines, as if she were observing his soul. He wondered at that though he knew she had the sight of both her Numenorean and Elven kin and she might have seen something of the future the child might hold. He would not be surprised by it. At their latest stop he had seen Nayaran give her something. He would have wondered but his concern was with Eistaron; the man seemed to have recovered well enough of his experience in the Desert Sands but he was not ready to be careless. More often than not Rholarowyn brought her mount to ride by Eistaron’s. When that happened Anoriel would retreat to the rear with Lienoril or Sintarano. Fate had its ways and it seemed that it had brought the shieldmaiden and the man together: whatever the purpose he would not interfere.

Still Anoriel felt Ryomer’s absence keenly in these days having to rely on the woman’s readiness to lead them. He had to trust Eärendil would not try to bring them where he did not intend them to go and only Ryomer could confirm that. So that night when she sought him out Anoriel expected Eärendil to convince him she had not led them astray. Eistaron was sitting with the other shieldmaiden and her son a few feet away in deep a discussion though Nayaran cast a glance their way as if he had an idea of what Eärendil was about. Lienoril and Sintarano were cleaning their weapon the latter being obvious about pretending not to be eavesdropping.
She did try to convince him that she had followed his instructions showing him where she had led them on the map he had in his keeping; she explained that it could take up to fourteen days from Lothlorien to Edoras. He smiled as she paused: he had not told them their final destination yet. She was trying to get information, which he was not yet ready to divulge to the women. When he remained silent she continued. They might be able to ride faster but they had to account for Nayaran and Eistaron. Regardless it would take them another two days to reach the place where it was easiest to cross the Limlight. She did not want to bring them to close to the Fields of Celebrant but neither did she want to ride too close to Fangorn. Once she was done she remained silent for a long moment.

“Yes?”
“Anoriel,” she hesitated. He remembered that about her. She had a way of making you dread the next thing she would say. More often than not it would prove an idea that would scare anyone in their right mind. He was no coward but even as an eighteen year old girl she had made him feel inadequate. He shook himself: he needed not look too deep. “I need to know. You have to tell me.”
He looked sharply at her; her eyes were cast downwards. If she was asking about what he guessed they were in for a tough night. One that he was not ready to deal with: this was not the place. They were not safe yet. She met his gaze; hers filled with emotions she rarely showed in Rhun though she felt them.
“I understand you want to ease me into remembering. You can’t. You have tried and it failed. I need to know why that man used that phrase specifically.”
“We are not doing this Captain.” She shook her head at that. “You are not ready to face it and I will not have you stir up all of Rohan and whatever threat hides within because you want to know something that scares you so much you would rather jump out of a second floor window.”
“You are welcome to clubbing me on the head if I become half as agitated as before. Better yet, let Sintarano do it. He has been looking for a way to get back at me for hurting Ryomer since Tharbad. It’s not about wanting Anoriel. Sintarano is right: if we don’t understand the threat, the enemy that is stalking us how can we face it? I need to know.”
“No.” That was the end of it. He meant to stand when she did something he had not expected: she lay her hand on his thigh the pressure almost a supplication. It stopped him in his tracks.
“Anoriel. I beg you. There is one thing I learned in the past ten years: yielding is not always a weakness. One needs to yield if one doesn’t want to break. I won’t break.”
“You don’t know that; you almost did in Tharbad. And you did in Rhun. I cannot have you helpless for days as it was then. We almost died. You tried to die.”
“I did, didn’t I? Because of what happened.”
“Yes. Then and you tried a number of times in the following years.”
“They told you about Nurnen?”
“And Osgiliath. And Ithilien. And Imladris.”

Shock registered; she had not expected him to know about that.
“Ah. Aragorn told you about that too.” She sighed. “And you still feel responsible for what I went through. In Rhun and everywhere else until Tharbad?” He had not expected that question; apparently the men had not either for both gasped. She smiled wryly. “You are not the only one who remembers Anoriel.”
He sighed.
“I am not free of the memory. Believe me when I say that a part of me is glad you don’t remember.”
“I believe you. But I still need to know. And today I am not unprotected.” She reached into a pocket and pulled a stone not unlike the one the king wore around his neck though the colour was different. He raised an eyebrow. “An elfstone. Nayaran allowed me to borrow it.” That still did not explain why he should tell her anything. She shook her head. “It gives strength of spirit and grants protection as well as peace. A powerful stone the Eldar of Eryn Lasgalen entrusted with that child.” She cast a glance towards the boy who was observing them; Rhoe and Eistaron seemed to still be talking but he knew better than to assume they were not listening to every word they were exchanging. The peredhel had set the stage and he but must play the part right now. The woman added. “You know they want him alive as much as they want us dead.” She had dropped her voice. What did she know?
“Eärendil?”
“My past for his future?”
“Oh no. I will not negotiate on that.”
“You have no choice Anoriel. We need to know who they are and what they will do to us but you and my cousin need to know what he is to become." She laughed humourlessly. "I would not be surprised if Aragorn had an inkling even though he has not told anyone yet. You spoke of Elessar being Estel; this is not about Rholarowyn or myself, it’s about him.”
Never forgetting those who have passed into the West :rose:

Sharing a story with Rholarowyn: Once There Were Words

Laesha is taking her first steps in the RP world with Eilathen and a bunch of great characters in The Expected Party
Fan of Redemption: the Reckoning

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you
I have been changed for good.


It's funny how some distance
Makes everything seem small
And the fears that once controlled me
Can't get to me at all
It's time to see what I can do
To test the limits and break through
No right, no wrong, no rules for me
I'm free
User avatar
earendil81
In Love & Light

 
Posts: 5280
Joined: Thu Apr 04, 2002 8:09 am
Location: Somewhere beyond the sea
Top

Previous

Return to Writing: The Scriptorium of Imladris

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 2 guests

cron