(Archive) The Fellowship of the Sword 22 - Eldin and Arnafel

The Emissary of Celeborn

================== Eldarin Calendar ===================
IC time is: Mid Afternoon < About 3:14 PM >
IC day is: Orgilion
IC date is: 22 Rhiw
Moon phase: First Quarter
Earendil: Gil-Estel is not visible.
IC year is: Loa 141 o Yen 21, Nelandran o Endor
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RL time: Tue Dec 05 04:44:46 2000
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Quenyan version available with +ELF TIME QUENYAN)

Riverside Pathway along the Celebrant
You stand aside an energetic river, surrounded on all sides by the towering boughs of a winter forest of Mallorns. A clear path runs alongside the river's embankment here northwards you can see it leading into a well-protected alcove beneath the forest canopy, while southwards the forest seems to begin thinning. Across the river (which appears impassable here), the forest extends both upstream and downstream as far as you can see.
Surrounded as you are, you have the distinct sensation that you are being watched.
contents:
Amano
Morrandir
Rowaen

[Morrandir(#24549)]
The sun is high in the sky, and amid the golden Mallorns of fair Lothlorien the Gondorian camp is a hive of activity. Knights and squires mill about the camp, polishing weapons, cleaning up after the lunch, or simply wandering about. Amid the general hustle is Morrandir, limping about the camp, staring silently into the trees.

[Rowaen(#16595)]
"Ah I see you are trying to spot those, sitting high in the trees, keeping a keen gaze at our every movement. Many hours have I spent in that manner, yet not a single glimpse or sound have I found. A good day to you Morrandir." comes a cheerfull voice, belonging to a youthfull lad, dressed in clothes common to one being a Blue Squire of the Order of the Swan. As cheerfull his voice sounds, the same pleasantness is reflected upon his features, eyes following the gaze of his fellow squire, looking sharply at the trees.

Yet as he draws near, the eyes move, and fall silent upon the figure of the still injured Morrandir. "My friend, might I ask how it goes? You still seem havened, a nasty opponent it was, injuring you so."

[Morrandir(#24549)]
Morrandir turns toward the speaker. "Why does everyone always ask me that?" he snarls. "They ask me how I am, so I tell them that I feel awful, and am having a terrible time, and I am then criticised for whining..." he pauses, and looks at the ground, shaking his head. "I am sorry my friend, I did not mean to snap. Yes I am recovering."

[Rowaen(#16595)]
Sincere wondering lies upon the young Nimothan's features, a worried glance passing his fair face, a shadow on a summer's day... "Have no fear, Morrandir, I will not tell you you are whining... Three months have I myself spent recovering, and found how hard it is to do just that... Nothing more then interest drove me to ask mine questions."

A smile breaks through, the sullen blue eyes softening to their common calm gaze, the cheerful Rowaen returning. A friendly pat he gives on Morrandir's shoulder. "I am glad you recover, and if there is ever anything, or the need to whine, then come and see me."

[Morrandir(#24549)]
"I thank you friend, I shall remember that if I have need of a good whine." Morrandir smiles, and looks into the trees. "I saw them, you know." he says quietly. "An elven maiden appeared, leading a small party of them...she was so beautiful, graceful..." he stops, and looks at Rowaen. "Sorry...I am sure you have already been told."

[Eldin(#29819)]
Silently against the sound of the rushing river, three figures appear as if from those very mists. Central to the trio, a tall Elf, of the Galadhrim by his garb, flanked by two bow and sword-armed Elven warriors, grim of face and demeanor.

Without preamble, Eldin approaches the closest of the Humans, nodding curtly in greeting, a slight, mirthless smile playing across his lips. "So, the reports are true, there are visitors to the Naith. I would speak with your leader," he concludes, then stands stock still awaiting an answer.

[Rowaen(#16595)]
And there stand the young squire, ready to answer his friend, his expression darkening somewhat. Yet how he stands amazed at the sudden approach of five of the fair kind, the same kind they were discussing... The dark frown is replaced by one of wondering. Looking round, and seeing most men stand in awe, gazing dumbstruck at the elves before them, Rowaen takes a step forward, eying the one elf that spoke his question..

"Visitors indeed. Yet for your question, kind sir, I am afraid no pleasing answer can be given... Our leader is not present here at the moment..." so is the Blue squire's reply, spoken clear and gentle. A moment he stands pondering, then speaking some more. "Perhaps... some of us can be of assistence? If so, then I would be most willing to." A quick glance is given at Morrandir, gaze then venturing back to the standing First-born.

[Morrandir(#24549)]
Morrandir nods, dumbstruck. "We will...er...gladly answer any questions you may have..." he says haltingly, his face draining of all color. He looks at the elves with wonder in his face. He looks wildly about the camp, his one eye desperately searching for some figure of authority.

[Eldin(#29819)]
Turning from speaker to speaker, Eldin pauses, peering closely at the latter of the two Humans to respond, remarking matter-of-factly, "You should have that seen to."

Turning now to the first of the speakers, he nods, again remarking judgementally, "These are ... perilous woods, mellon, ones in which no free peoples should wander without leadership."

Casting a glance up into the boughs of the trees overhanging the clearing, and the river itself, he continues, "Word has reached my lord of your approach and arrival. He would know your business here, and, perhaps more importantly, how you knew to arrive on this very spot...?" Again the Elf falls silent, awaiting an answer.

[Rowaen(#16595)]
A faint grin forms round the Nimothan's lips, eying the speaking elf with keen gaze, curious and intens. "True words spoken, my Lord, yet my words did not intent to say our leader has left, mere he and some of the other knights, leading this party, took their distance, an urgent discussion at hand. No doubt, the very same discussion is related with our presence at this here place... As for the arrival on this.. spot.. The ones leading our party brought us here, as their knowledge of this place, I can only say, the Knight-Herald Thorondur, and Knight-Admiral, Lord Arnafel, seem to have been here before." So is the gentle spoken reply, the squire now casting another glance at Morrandir standing near.

Brows are raised in wondering, Rowaen casting his friend a meaningfull look, as if to inquire silently what caused his sudden.. shyness?

[Morrandir(#24549)]
Nodding quickly, Morrandir says, "Yes...I believe they are aquainted with your people..." he pauses as Rowaen looks at him. "Don't look at me like that...you can't tell me you aren't slightly nervous talking to these fair folk..." Morrandir looks at Eldin and grins sheepishly before looking away into the trees, his face turning a delecate shade of red.

[Eldin(#29819)]
Eldin raises an eyebrow, looking again from Human to Human, casting a fleeting glance at the ornate tent at the center of the camp. " Then, with your knowledge of our very existence, you should be aware of our ways ... and of our language," he remarks, again waiting for an answer, though now with some hint of expectation in his eyes.

[Rowaen(#16595)]
A queer look is granted at Morrandir, Rowaen softly replying. "Why would I be nervous? I am mere thrilled to finally come eye to eye with one of the First-Born... Yet why should I be shy and stutter instead of having a normal converse? Really.." here the youth shakes his head slightly. "sometimes I wonder..."

Then Rowaen's gaze returns to the elf, standing tall, his words spoken in their fair language. A glimpse of recognition seems to glimmer in the sullen blue of his eyes, lips parting letting out carefull spoken words. Though the frown upon his face betrays his disapproval.. " You spoke of language, sir? Indeed have I had my lessons in Sindarin, though mostly seems forgotten and sealed away, a lot of practice I would need..."

[Morrandir(#24549)]
Morrandir blinks, and looks at the elf. " I also speak your fair tongue, though have never had any use for it before now." He runs one hand through his hair and looks across to Rowaen.

[Amano(#30032)]
Perhaps then, it is the Blue-Squire Amano's fortune that he emerges from his tent, having gone within earlier to tend to some matter as before, his clear grey eyes widen at the sight of the elven-folk, as one would react still unused to their presence. Yet this time, the youth loses not his presence of mind, approaching his two fellow squires where they hold converse with one of the First-born, his step steady, and sure, though the barest hint of eagerness glimmers upon his face.

The lovely accents of the Elven-tongue come to his ears even upon his approach, and it is with great respect, and hesitation, that he endeavours to speak. " A good afternoon to you, fair folk," he offers in greeting, " and to you both," addressing the two squires, before turning his attention to the Galadhrim. " It gladdens me that once again, we are honoured by your presence. I could not help but hear that you sought our leader. Is it so?"

[Rowaen(#16595)]
At the sound of another voice, swift is the turn, Rowaen smiling briefly as his eyes come across the figure of Amano. With care he listens to the other words spoken, a thoughtfull frown upon his face. As Amano finishes, the young Nimothan nods a greeting to his fellow Blue Squire, casting a glance at the other men still standing silent and in awe. A mocking grin cannot be surpressed, Rowaen speaking softly. " Such queer behaviour they express when one of elven is near. Are we not all beings living, of course the First Born are of beauty, fair beings, many legends told. Yet why would that have shyness as result... Bah, some do not seem able to make differ between dream and reality. If this is so, then I deem we should not venture further into the Woods. No use of half dreaming men..." Unaware perhaps, the squire finds himself speaking in the elven tongue, words spoken more swiftly and clear. And so he stands amazed at his own skill, now turning back, facing the elf before him, silently awaiting answer to the question asked by Amano.

[Eldin(#29819)]
Momentary surprise showing on his features is rapidly replaced by a small smile, utterly without mirth. Reverting to the Common tongue, Eldin now addresses the newcomer, a nod of both greeting and of acknowledgement preceeding his answer. "Aye, though your leaders have spoken with others of the Wood, no satisfactory answer has made its way to my lord's ears. And, impressive though it may be, your knowledge of our language does not answer the second part of that trial. You have shown that you know of our domain, perhaps you could show some knowledge of our ways..."

His voice trailing off to a loud whisper, barely heard above the rush of the river, the Elf again awaits an answer, looking expectantly from Human face to face.

Louder than the emissary's whisper, from high in the treetops above, the unmistakable sound of a string being drawn taut echoes down through the leaves. Casting a glance upward, Eldin makes a small hand signal, barely noticable, the results of which are unseen ... and unheard.

[Morrandir(#24549)]
Morrandir closes his eye and shakes his head. He chuckles mirthlessly, and looks at Rowaen and Amano. "It might be a good idea to tell him why we are here." he says, looking back at the elf, his eye narrowing slightly.

[Rowaen(#16595)]
"Many," speaks Rowaen softly, now making use of the Westron.. "have I read of this here Woods, though not clear judgement I could give of all in those books told... Though in most books I came across the attitude upkept in regard to those of foreign lands. Protective your kind seems, not likely to let anyone venture into your domain without clear reason. As protective we are ourselves for our realms and cities... If you spoke of such ways, then I would ask thee, Lord, would you require a reason of us, for our presence here? And should it comfort you, I assure you, no ill intentions would we have.." A sharp gaze is casted at the standing elf, brief glances going upwards towards the trees. For how Rowaen heard the sound of strings, wondering now perhaps, if bows were aimed indeed?

[Amano(#30032)]
A furrow mars the white brow of Amano, as a troubled shadow that hovers even in the depths of his eyes. "Nay," he says, suddenly, even as the faint sound of the string shatters the forced calm of his expression, though he glances not, at the wood beyond from whence the sound came, though the strain from that effort shows in his countenance. The sounds of Westron seem harsh as they roll off his tongue, the transition jarring. "Nay, that is not the question being asked of us, Morrandir that shall remain for our lords to speak of, and neither does it seem that tis sought of us by these good folk." Rowaen's own speech goes not unheard by him, and he stands quietly, though by his look he agrees with the words of the other Blue-Squire.

Sighing deeply, his glance still occasionally moving to the treetops, Eldin's face becomes a mask of indifference and patience. "Still, you answer not the question put to you. If there are none among you here who can tell me your purpose in visiting the Wood, then perhaps I waste your time ... and mine."
Though his words are those of dismissal, he makes no move to leave, the expectant look returning to his visage.

[Arnafel(#29017)]
As he has so many times in the days since the Fellowship has come to the shores of the Celebrant, the Lord of the Isilrim comes when least looked for -- a snapping of twigs, the soft whisper of movement, and forth from the trees he steps, head bent in thought.

And as ever before, none know where he has been, or why he had gone thither.

[Morrandir(#24549)]
Morrandir sighs. "I would tell you." he says, looking at the elf. "However I do not believe it is my place to do so..." he pauses as Arnafel emerges. "He will tell you!" he points to the Lord Isilrim with a smile.

[Rowaen(#16595)]
"Then be glad, for... there comes the man you would seek, Lord..." is the soft reply of Rowaen, after his eyes come across the figure of the Lord Isilrim. There he turns facing the Knight, words adressed gently in his direction.

"My Lord, it seems there is someone here, in need of your presence... One who seeks answers for questions, not fitted for us to answer, or so I deem."

[Arnafel(#29017)]
And even as Rowaen and Morrandir call to him, the Isilrim looks up -- never has such a sight greeted him upon his return surely for thither, akin to a glimpse of Isil's light in the living day, stands one from the Golden Woods among the Squires!

And for the most fleeting of moments, Arnafel remains thus -- frozen between the distant realm where his thoughts wander, and the knowledge of what lies before him. But only a moment. And then, in his eyes is a light never before seen by of the Fellowship -- save perhaps one.

Deeply he bows in the manner of the Men of Belfalas, and his voice rings fair and clear -- not in the tongue of Men, but in that of the Eldar, rich and lilting, he speaks, " Hail Firstborn!"

[Eldin(#29819)]
Eldin's eyes follow the pointing finger, looking into the deepening afternoon air, peering at the newly arrived figure. A questioning look masks his face, though the lips turn up slightly at the corners, in the beginning of a small smile. Nodding to the three Humans, almost a signal of dismissal, he turns to the two guards, this nod truely one of dismissal as they turn and move upstream without questioning their superior.

Turning back, the light of recognition now burning brightly in his eyes, he in turn bows, chosing to respond in the tongue of the visitor, "Hail and well met, mellon! It is long, as you mark the years, since your presence has graced the Wood!"

[Morrandir(#24549)]
Morrandir lets out a large breath of air as Eldin didmisses the elves. He grins to the other two squires before looking expectantly at Arnafel, awaiting his answer to the firstborn's greeting.

[Amano(#30032)]
As the Knight-Admiral makes his greeting, Amano turns, stepping back from where he had earlier stood he speaks no further, only inclining his head low, and moving back so that there might be greater a space before the gathering. Turning his gaze once more to the Elf before them, he remains silent, but quietly expectant, the breeze stirring the cloak about his form as a flag fluttering in the wind.

[Arnafel(#29017)]
"Well met indeed!"

And the Isilrim laughs -- merry and free, a laugh of naught but delight and one which makes him again as he may have been in the days of his youth.

And with a palm raised in a gesture of peace, he comes forth then from the trees graver now are his words when he speaks again, "And the years have seemed longer yet for the Light of the Woods which was lost to me."

[Rowaen(#16595)]
At the sign given to the figures of the squires, Rowaen makes a single move, a turn is made. Then his eyes come across with Amano, witnessing his actions, almost instantly he turns back, facing the elf again, smiling an apparent apology he bows twice, arm placed before his chest, one in turn for the elf, and one to the Lord Isilrim. Then the young Nimothan aswell takes his distance, yet not before casting a piercing look at Morrandir, still standing near.

[Morrandir(#24549)]
Looking at Rowaen, Morrandir nods solemnly. Turning again to the elf he smiles (perhaps a little forcedly) and bows, wincing slightly as he does so. He touches his thigh, screwing up his face in apparent discomfort.

[Eldin(#29819)]
As Lord Arnafel laughs, the sound is joined by another, almost musical sound. Mirth now showing plainly on the face of the Elf, Eldin moves to the Human Lord, clapping him gently on the back. "Lord Celeborn will feel at least some relief that it is you who visits our borders, my friend."

Sobering slightly, he continues, "Though there is still something that troubles my Lord, though he has not made me privy to his concerns."

"Come, I still must report the answers to his questions," he continues. "To what happenstance do we owe the honor of this return visit, Lord?"

[Arnafel(#29017)]
Fair the words, but dark the shadow which they summon -- one which brings silence to the Lord of the Isilrim and the somber calm in which he is ever shrouded. Thus he considers the question for a moment grown old, ere replying:

"Not by happy chance do we come here, Eldin. Nay, not even by choice -- for I would not disturb the peace of your borders unless my hand was forced. It is the counsel of the Lord and Lady we seek, for a dark shadow has come forth from the past and blighted my land."

[Morrandir(#24549)]
Looking down at his leg, Morrandir sighs. "Excuse me." he mumbles to the two squires. He gives the elf a friendly nod, then limps away, entering a nearby tent and retiring for the night.

[Rowaen(#16595)]
A pleasant nod is given in return as farwell greeting by Rowaen at the departing Morrandir, yet as the squire limps away some concern comes upon the young Nimothan's face. Soft whispers he speaks, adressed to Amano standing near. "Aye, glad I am not to suffer from such grave injuries... How I dreaded the recovery I had to undergo myself after our... 'encounter' with that bear. Seems only graver with that man, surely he is in lot of pain."

Distantly, thoughts claiming their place, troubling the keen gaze, Rowaen stands silent there, before a swift glance is casted upon the Lord Isilrim and the remaining elf. And so he speaks more words, lips curling upwards in a carefull smile.

"Tis amazing how much we seem not aware off, who would have known the Knight-Admiral would be so befriended with those of the fair-folk... Perhaps it is not wise, as I stated myself before, still this urge... longing... it keeps calling to go and enter this here woods. To enjoy it's beauty there within, experience a realm of those First Born. And yet how aware I am of such thoughts being a threat to the quest at hand..."

[Eldin(#29819)]
Nodding seriously, listening with an ear to the conversation taking place among the Squires, Eldin first acknowledges Lord Arnafel's concern. "Aye, it is well known to us here that the Shadow's reach has extended, even unto Mirkwood to the north. And the Yrch who inhabit Khazad Dum provide us with no small amount of ... entertainment," he adds, a wry chuckle escaping his lips. "Yet," he continues, "this is a concern with which we do not trouble ourselves, as you well know, Lord, in the safety of the Lord and Lady's realm."

Turning now toward the Squires, he points to the one who departs. "Yet, your more immediate need is one with which we can offer assistance, if you have no healers among your company?" he concludes, the question implicit in his tone.

[Arnafel(#29017)]
With inclined brow, the Isilrim greets the elf's offer, "There are a few among us who have some small knowledge of leechcraft -- but it is naught before the arts of your folk. If you indeed choose aid us thus, I would be grateful."

And of a sudden then, his gaze, keen and sharp, turns to the Squires -- thus he studies them ere speaking again, "One other thing I would ask of you. If these men have failed to honour your ways in any manner, then I pray that you forgive them. They are of the old blood, if lacking in knowledge of your folk. As are..."

And in that measured tone lurks a hint of troubled thoughts for those who may discern it, "...too many in these dark days. Even in Gondor, the land of the Southern Dunedain."

[Amano(#30032)]
"The times are such that many keep a tight watch and leaguer upon their own lands, Rowaen.. I would wish that the land were open indeed for such seeking hearts. But that is all up to the Lord and Lady who dwell therein. I can only wait, myself, though I am heartened that among the lords of Gondor there still walk some who may be called Elf-friends." The onset of night far too dim in which even his eyes to see beyond the glimmer of the river, urges Amano to stir at last. Long he had stood there unmoving, with only the tones of their own conversation and that of the Elf and the Lord Isilrim, in the gathering silence of night. Morrandir's departure he had given but a wordless nod yet now he turns his eyes to the red-gold light of the campfire, which had been lit before evening had full given way to deep night.

Upon hearing the Knight speak, however, of him and his fellow squires, he returns his gaze, now slightly abashed, though he says naught, looking from his kinsman to the First-born with an air of embarassment.

[Eldin(#29819)]
Chuckling again, though with no small hint of humor, Eldin follows the Dunadan's gaze, a small smile playing again across his lips. "Nay, think not ill of your charges, Lord. Though they have kept your own secrets in a manner that would do my folk proud, they have done little to tarnish your name or your House."

His mood sobering now, he turns his full attention to Lord Arnafel, his look somewhat darker. "Speak to me of the troubles you suffer in your homeland, old friend, that I might take word to my Lord. Though I can offer no assistance myself, perhaps there is some small aid that the Lord and Lady can offer."

Sobering even further, he adds, "I fear there is little they will offer, though word of such darkness has reached us already, so far from your homeland. These deeds do not, though, prompt us to action, rather to deeper seclusion from the doings of Middle-earth." Smiling slightly, he concludes, "I caution you against building hope from this quarter, though I think it will be difficult for the Lord and Lady to turn a deaf ear."

[Arnafel(#29017)]
For a moment longer that clear gaze lingers on the Squires -- and then, it is bent upon Eldin. Somber is the question asked of the Silver Knight, and his answer, no less so.

"Listen then, Eldin. Little more than a month ago, my lord -- Imrahil the Fair, Prince of Dol Amroth he who is of the blood of Mithrellas the Elfmaid -- rode forth on a great hunt, and with him went his youngest son, Amrothos the Swift. Ah, but the blood of his longfathers runs truly in him...tall he is, and proud, and fair even as your folk!"

"But dark was the Doom which led them forth that day, for they came even unto the Stone of Erech, symbol of an evil done in an age past. Thither..." -- and as if brought forth by the Isilrim's words, a vision of that dread and blasted place where the Eastern wind blows, looms large in the clearing -- "...it made itself known. An undead wight bound by ancient curse, it took Amrothos, and laid it upon the Prince to find and forge anew the shards of Anaril, the blade of Anarion son of Elendil. Thus might his torment be ended -- and so, the Fellowship set forth from Gondor, for the blade was shattered ere the beginning of this Age, and its pieces scattered in the wide lands."

[Rowaen(#16595)]
A sigh sounds, almost of relief, a tiny sparkle returning to the eyes of Rowaen of Nimothan. Soft he speaks once more to the squire next to him, Amano. "Ah, it seems we have done not to little to aid the First Born in his questions and at the same time to refrain from speaking what was not ours to say... A slight comfort, yet still the words of the Lord Isilrim, it seems indeed the plan lies there to venture even further into the woods."

His gaze is taken away from the Knight and elf, now resting silent upon the figure of Amano, eying him curiously, searching for his opinion on the matter at hand. "Amano, take a look at those men there, the guards near the central tent. Look at the dreamy looks, how they stand amazed and in wonder. Surely what would cause such a reaction? If you know then tell me! For I do not understand such foolishness... Do they not realize it is dangerous to walk in dreams while attending duties in reality? Did their boundaries mixed up so? Tis like a spell... leaving them dumb-struck!"

Softly the young squire shakes his head in disapproval, raven-hair stirred slightly. One hand reaches up, stroking through his hair, before falling silent again alongside his form.

[Amano(#30032)]
Though the tale he had heard many a time...in this clearing where only firelight keeps the darkness at bay, and the bite of winter remains bitter upon the night air, the young Isilrim unconsciously draws his sable cloak tighter about him, as though warmth might keep out such shadows as that which walked about the Stone that day. To his friend standing by, he says only in reply, his grey eyes shimmering with reflected firelight, "If indeed the folk of yonder Wood will aid us in the way of seeking these shards.. nay, even if by their wisdom we may find the first.. I shall be grateful. Not only does it mean more of hope in our quest, but the time in which it may be fulfilled will be lessened, and Amrothos closer to deliverance. I can only pray that what was said was true, that the Undead regard not Time in the same, fleeting span as we, and the Prince's son is in no danger ere the shards are won."

Following the line of his friend's gaze, the Blue-Squire's own glance now arrives at the men he speaks of though not the same contempt does he evince, only a resigned smile and shrug of his white-clad shoulders. Amusement, more than anything, hues his next words. "Aye, friend, but you must remember.. not all were given the same amount of lore, or knew what to expect. As the Lord Bragollach did say, it must be so for many meeting the Elves for the first time. To not a few, they are but legends, and whisperings of tales told in their childhood, of ancient lands and a power beyond their ken. And of course..." He grins, suddenly gruff, "There are always the Knights to snap them out of their daydreams. Though of course, tis night, and I should say, sleepwalking." He gives a quiet chuckle, before trailing off.

[Eldin(#29819)]
Shaking his head slowly, lost in his own thoughts, though not oblivious to the interplay around him, the Elvish emmisary sighs deeply as Lord Arnafel recounts his tale of woe ... and horror. Taking a deep breath and drawing himself up to his full height, he gazes long into the Wood across the river before replying.

"A tale best told in the full light of day, my friend, and one in which I would be thankful to play no part. I will relay this to the Lord and Lady, though I would not guess at what aid you would request of us. If it is to find the scattered shards of the Blade, perhaps the Lady would weave her magics about the search."

Sighing deeper still, walking to the very edge of the river as he follows his gaze, he turns, standing in place and completing his answer. "Though the undead hold no power, either of fear or of threat, over the First Born, it is my thought that none will assist you from Lothlorien in an assault upon the Wight's barrow." Now returning to Lord Arnafel's side, he smiles, though much less humor shows in the expression. "I could be proven wrong in that ..."

Falling silent now, he again gazes across the river, in full knowledge that the conversations were heard by ears unseen.

[Rowaen(#16595)]
"Let me hear those light-hearted words again, should we encounter battle, days after leaving this here woods. Then seeing half of the men are not aware of their consciousness, alertness near to nothingness. Perhaps I see and speak to dark, though only logical it seems to me, and I will not endanger mine own life and that of many others, mere by some not able to distinguish between dream and wake..." So grave speaks the young one, no glimpse of mirth to be found on his person. Concerned stand the eyes, looking round once more, a hand placed thoughtfully under his chin.

And then he continues... "For yes I too pray we will gather the shards in time, and yet for that purpose many hardships have to be endured. Chances of success will greatly slimm with them there in such state..." Oh how the grave look suddenly darkens, a disturbing wrinkle forming, the squire gazing at one guard in particular, the sighting pleasing him the least.... or so it seems. "Bah! If that one there drops his jaw one more time I assure you I will bring him back to his senses, a cold trip into the river will be his part... You speak of the Knight wakening their spirits, the urge rises to see what happens if not a Knight does so... Amano," eyes venturing back, lightening somewhat, "it concerns me greatly, perhaps I am wrong, then do not hesitate to correct me justly. Though my past brought me much dread and misery all caused by unawareness, losing track of those same boundaries set, the contrast between dream and reality, accompanied by the sense to keep those two worlds apart..."

[Arnafel(#29017)]
"I ask for no aid in strength of arms, Eldin...no fell-handed warriors to join us in our quest. For it is said that in these latter days, the might of the Firstborn lies in their wisdom" -- quietly the Isilrim speaks, his gaze following that of the elf to the woods beyond the murmuring river.

"Nay, I ask for naught but counsel -- knowledge, if your Lady has it, of where the shards may be found. Yet, if she is unwilling to do so...my memory of the Golden Wood will be no less bright."

[Amano(#30032)]
As a lull seems to fall into the conversation about them, the tall Squire speaks no reply to Rowaen for long moments, making no sign that he had heard or seen anything other than the words of his friend, though his eyes rest thoughtfully on the flickering campfire. When he does speak, it is barely a murmur. "Dreams, Rowaen, may be kept apart from reality, and even lost in a life of hardship. Yet I for one, would not wish to lose sight of them!" He smiles suddenly, before glancing at the First-born, and the Knight. Naught can he see beyond the river but trees, though his wondering eyes stray there, and back again to the flames.

[Eldin(#29819)]
Smiling now, a comforting hand on Lord Arnafel's shoulder, the Elf answers, his voice filled with the warmth of hope and friendship. "Were it my boon to offer, mellon, I'd grant your request without hesitation. Yet, as I have told your Squires before your arrival, there is else that troubles Lord Celeborn about your visit, though I know not its nature."

Appearing from the trees to the north, as if bidden by some unspoken command, two Elf Guards appear, possibly the same two who had accompanied Eldin as he first approached, though it is impossible to tell in the deepening gloom of night. They take their stations at the emmisary's side, staring without expression at the visitors.

"Your message will be delivered with all haste, old friend. Though you are aware of the way of the Galadhrim, still I would caution you to take care during your visit, and to pass that care on to your party. Not all members of the Order greet your presence with such understanding."

[Rowaen(#16595)]
"Amano..." comes the soft reply, eyes still fixed at the guard that seems to bother him so, "that is my concern. Of you I know and can see you are able to distinguish between real and dream... What of the others? Of course all have dreams, longings, wishes, only the way most express them hear, that indeed concerns me gravely. Tis silly I would say, if a First Born stands before them then they stand dumbstruck, gazing, senseless!" Ending his soft rebuke, Rowaen mutters some more words, a fierce flame seeming to lighten in his eyes. Yet what caused it remains hidden, for as the elf speaks, swiftly the young Nimothan's attention is redirected at his person. Silently watching, considering the words spoken.

[Arnafel(#29017)]
Back the Lord of the Isilrim draws to stand before the Squires, for the time for leavetaking has come -- and with arms upon breast, he bows to the emissary and his guards.

"Whether the answer you bring to us is aye or nay, you have my gratitude. And it will be as you say...no Man of Gondor will do aught to offend your folk. And Eldin..."

Tall and fair he stands, touched by the first shimmering beams of moonlight -- thus might the Men of Numenor have seemed when they first stepped upon lesser shores. And there is a power in his words when again he speaks, "Say to your Lord and Lady that we ask this not for the friendship that your folk may hold for a few among us. We ask it for our leaguer -- yea, for such it is, even if Gondor knows it little! -- against the Shadow. For is it not sworn foe to both our lands, and is this wight naught but its tool?"

[Eldin(#29819)]
Eldin smiles broadly now, not of leave-taking, but the prospect of return. bowing in turn, he stands straight and tall as he answers, " Well spoken, my friend, as it shall be spoken before the Lord and Lady of the Galadhrim. Namarie, mellyn!"

Turning now on his heal, he strides to the north, disappearing among the trees and the now dark of night.

END