Meeting Abanangel

[Caelwen(#24844)]

Winter on the moors is not pleasant. Oh, the snow is not too deep, and it melts still somewhat during the day, but the wind barrels down from the mountains. Everything is wind-sculpted-- the small and naked shrubs, the snow, cast into sleek and sharp peaks and troughs. Even the stars above appear icy-cold.

Against the snow, figures move. One, at least, is cloaked in green with white fur edging, a spill of shadowed hair coming from the hood. This one is trying to coax a child to come within the warm cloak-- but the child seems not troubled at all by the cold. It might be noted that the feet of these figures walk atop the snow and do not sink into it.

The makeshift shelter, constructed of the tent strung as a roof across an alcove in some rocks, looks like it has been reworked a bit in the last few days. There is snow piled around it but the gray fabric is clear of snow itself. Where is Elathrad? Perhaps sitting silent guard? Maybe off collecting more wood for the fire that he\'s vigilant in keeping lit at all times. Within the small camp, Keldean is curled up in all the blankets, sitting hunched close to the flames.

[Giliath(#9838)] Giliath\'s cloak seems lighter, brighter than normal. But there is no fur, and he too walks as though most entirely unaware of the chill around. A nod to someone out of sight - perhaps it is the absent Elathrad - and the tall elf ducks under the tent roof.

The child moves as if to follow Giliath, but is stopped by Caelwen\'s hand on his shoulder. \" No, ** ****, *** ***** **** **** ** *** ** **** in.\" She takes advantage of his nearness to swirl her cloak around him.

Keldean looks up when a shadow falls across the opening. He grins at the sight of Giliath, rising swiftly from his cocoon of blankets. \"Giliath!\" He looks leaner, if that\'s possible in a skinny teen, but little has changed beyond that. He doesn\'t move from the warmth spreading away from the fire, but smiles brightly. \"Is it just you?\" He thought he heard more voices, but it\'s hard to hear past the wind outside and the crackling of the fire within the shelter.

[Giliath(#9838)] Giliath beckons with his hand, motioning Caelwen and Abanangel to come within. \"I have spoken with Caelwen,\" he says to the young human. \"This..\" he glances back as his wife and child come near. \"... is my son, Abanangel Glangil o nos Raavindonserke.\" The names come out with a solemn formal sound.

Caelwen opens her cloak and releases the child, who looks to be no more than six years old by human reckoning. \" *** *** go ** ***,\" she says to him in a fussy undertone. \" *** ** ******* ** **** ****!\" Cautioning which is, no doubt, no longer needed.

Abanangel precedes his mother into the tent. He looks up uncertainly for a moment to Giliath, then bows to Keldean, silky dark hair falling over his shoulder. \'Hello,\' he says with quite a thick accent, glancing next at his mother as she nears.

The child is the young image of his father-- save for his eyes, which are perhaps shaded a slight green beneath the charcoal, and his lips, which tilt as Caelwen\'s occasionally do.

Keldean\'s eyes widen, surprise lighting on them when Giliath presents his son. The teen hadn\'t expected Caelwen to agree. His smile widens, and since he had little in the way of expectations where the elven child is concerned, his reaction is nothing more that friendly curiosity for Abanangel. The Bree youth is too backwoods to consider bowing in return, but he does offer a well-practiced greeting in return, \"Mae govannen.\"

[Giliath(#9838)] Abanagel\'s eyes light up and he looks up, saying in swift liquid Sindarin, \"You did not say he could speak!\" Eagerly, but slightly shy, he takes a half step forward, asking, \"What is your name?\" The words are slow, with pauses between them, but they are understandable, even through the strange accent. A glance upwards. Is it right?

\" * ******* **** ** ****** *** ** *****,\" Caelwen answers her son fondly, indulgently-- the lady is a good deal warmer with her son around. She steps nearer to her husband to set her hand upon his arm. Her eyes watch Abanangel keenly.

Keldean grows hesitant now, and opens his mouth to reply, but coughs instead. He quickly muffles it with his sleeve, but it\'s a moment before he clears his throat and speaks. \"It\'s Keldean.. Keldean Pinewick. I\'m from Bree.\" He says, inching a step closer to the fire as the chill air begins to send shivers through him. The teen is still grinning, and so far hasn\'t tried to murder Caelwen\'s precious son!

[<#9838>] Giliath smiles approvingly at Abanangel. Yes. It is right. And the boy, encouraged, smiles at the much taller Bree lad. \'I am,\' he says slowly, \" *******?\" \'meeting you.\' There is a faint question running through the melody of his words, half in Sindarin and half in common. But the cough brings a wrinkle to his forehead. \" **** ** ****, ***?\" he asks.

Caelwen is concentrating so intently on the interaction between Keldean and Abanangel that she might well light them afire with her gaze. \" ********* *** ****** **** ***** ******,\" she guesses for an answer, before Giliath speaks. She looks up to the elder elf as well. \" ** *** **** **** ******* ****?\" she asks curiously.

Keldean shakes his head helplessly at the younger boy, \"I don\'t understand that well.. \" He explains, his smile fading some. Whatever is being spoken between the elves seems completely lost to the human, but he pays it little mind. \"Your name.. do you have.. a short version?\" Keldean asks in faint bewilderment of the elven child.

[<#9838>] Giliath says quietly, \'I am pleased to meet you.\' He says the words slowly, then repeats them in Sindarin. \" ** *******,\" he explains then. Abanangel nods seriously, and his child\'s voice says high and lilting, \'I am pleeessed to meeting you.\' And listening, with a very grave expression and an intent frown, he breaks into a brilliant smile, and nods happily. \'Name!\' A rattle of elven ending with, \'...Abanangel.\'

Caelwen watches each speaker intently. She tilts her head aside and murmurs to Giliath, \" **** ****,\" \'Ai pless to me too,\' \" ****?\"

[<#9838>] Giliath says in Sindarin, \"******, a **** *******, *** ******* *******, \"I am glad to have made your acquaintance.\"

[<#9838>] Softly, a bare whisper, the vintner replies, \" * ** **** ** **** **** your ************.\"

Keldean grins, looking between them all happily. The teen tries to follow the elven, and it\'s easier with Giliath\'s repetition. \"Abanan.. gel.. \" He repeats slowly, trying to pronounce the name properly. He repeats it a few times softly, memorizing it. Then as if suddenly remembering, \"Oh!.. I have.. well.. it\'s a gift.\" He gives a nervous glance to Caelwen, then to Giliath, \"Is that okay?\" He lifts his arm to stifle another cough into his sleeve.

[<#9838>] \'A gift?\' Giliath asks, moving forward a half a step. He looks at his wife. \" ** ****** ** **** ********* a ****,\" he tells her. The elven boy looks back and forth with a strange mix on his face of intent concentration and childish enthusiasm. \'Keldean,\' he pronounces. \'You are Keldean. I am Abanangel.\' These simple sentences bring a silvery bubbling laugh when he is done.

\" A ****?\" Caelwen repeats a word or two that Giliath has said. She smiles when Abanangel laughs. She reaches forward to stroke his hair. \" * ** *** ****, Lothdaimoth, **** ** *** *****? ******* if ** **** **** *** **** **?\"

It\'s difficult not to be taken in by such an enchanting child. Elves have a draw about them, and an elven youth even more so. Keldean grins when Banan laughs, and it\'s only the freezing air that makes him look away for a moment so that he can reach down and scoop up one of the blankets. He pulls it around his shoulders, then looks to Giliath, \"Is it okay?\"

[<#9838>] \'Might I know what it is?\' Giliath asks politely. He looks down at his son and smiles. \" Go ** **** ******,\" he instructs, \" *** ** *** ******. ** **** be a ********, ** *** **** that *** *** **** **.\" And the boy, with only a slight frown of protest, turns obediently away to curl under Caelwen\'s heavy cloak. If one looked, they would see him there, both hands plastered over his ears.

\"Well... I though-\" Keldean cuts off as the elven child flits over to his mother and.. covers his ears? The teen frowns faintly, perhaps a trace offended. In a great effort of maturity he forces away the hurt feelings and focuses on Giliath. \"I thought he was older, and I got it before I knew. It\'s a pipe, and some Old Toby. I figured, that\'s what everyone comes to Bree to buy, and .. it\'s what they all say we\'re known for. I wasn\'t sure if elves smoke.\" Keldean chews on his bottom lip now, starting to think this was a bad choice.

Caelwen\'s cloak is soft and enveloping and she takes the opportunity to embrace the boy. Her face softens with love as she looks down at him.

[Giliath(#9838)] Giliath listens carefully and then says, with equal care, \"We do not smoke. The .. odors are unpleasant. But it was a kind thought. If you wish to give it to him, he will cherish the wood. The ... \'pipeweed\' it might be well if you kept. Perhaps you will find some use for it yourself?\" He smiles, the expression friendly and unoffended.

Keldean sighs softly, his shoulders drooping. For a moment, he seems completely disheartened and his eyes wander to the fire for a long time. \"Okay.\" He says finally. \"The pipe then. I picked it out for him. If the pipeweed will bother him, I\'ll keep that.\" He stifles another cough, and then moves to search through his belongings.

\" **** *** ** ***?\" Caelwen asks Giliath with mild curiosity. \" *** ** *** ***** ** ***?\"

She eyes Keldean for a long while and then, abruptly. \" *** ***** ***** is ***. *** *** *** **** *** ********* ****** ***? ** ** like **** *** ***** *********. ** he ***** ** *** ****?\" She sounds faintly alarmed.

[<#9838>] Abanangel may be unnaturally good, but he has no more patience (as yet) than any child. The long years of life that will teach him that all lie ahead. \" *** * **** out ***?\" demands a small voice from under the cloak. And Giliath laughs. \" ***,\" he says. Then a sudden frown furrows his forehead and he turns to watch Keldean much more intently than before.

\" * ** *** ***** he **** ***.\" Absently, still watching the human boy, he says, \" ** *** a ****** *** *** *****.\" Then, a word directed to Keldean himself, \'Are you ill?\'

\"It\'s just a cough..\" Keldean answers the only clear question first, but there\'s a small grin for the child\'s plea. He pulls out a wrapped bundle and stands again, one hand holding the blanket tight around his shoulders while the other offers over the gift for Abanangel. \"Here.. Gi-.. your father says that you don\'t smoke, but.. I picked it out for you. It\'s a big deal, where I\'m from.\" The pipe isn\'t elaborate by any sort of elven standard, but it\'s decently carved with some leaf designs.

\" **!\" Caelwen says brightly as Abanangel flees the confines of her cloak. \" A toy! *** **********! ** thank ***.\" A short pause. \" *** *** ** *** ******-**** become ****? ** ** **** ***** *** ***-******* ** **** *** *****? ** *******, ******* ** ****, ** that *** ***** ***** is *** **** ** ***,\" she cautions.

[Giliath(#9838)] The child dances out, reaching for the bundle, and pulling away the wrappings with glee. They are discarded, but with care - to one side of the fire and out of the way, and he turns the carven pipe over in his hands, fingers exploring it with delight. Finally, \'Theenk you,\' he says, looking up and smiling widely.

\"Do you need anything?\" Giliath persists. \"I do not know... herbs?\" And to Caelwen he repeats in elven, \"I do not know...\"

Keldean is a bit relieved when the child seems to appreciate the gift. \"You\'re welcome.\" He says, smiling more easily. He glances at Giliath, but quickly looks back to the child, focusing his attention on Banan. \"Umm.. you like horses? That\'s what your father told me.\"

Caelwen steps closer to Keldean and looks him over critically, bending a bit even. \" ********* **** ****** *** an *** ***** *** ***** walk ****** **** **. * ***** that *** ***** ***** *** **** lying around *** much. ** ****** *** sleep so ****. ****** **** is *** **** *** ***. ** ****** go **** ** *** ******.\" All of this is a long fretful or perhaps critical flow of elvish poured over Keldean\'s head.

[Giliath(#9838)] Abanangel\'s fingers don\'t stop stroking the smooth wood. He seems to relish the feel of the wood and the tight grain and the carved leafs. \'Horss?\' A vigorous nod. \'I like horss-uz?\'

Keldean looks at Caelwen with a faint frown when she approaches, picking up some of her woods. He looks around at the small shelter, then says as if she\'ll understand. \"There\'s too much snow. It\'s cold..\" He offers up as an excuse, mixing up her words and feeling as if she\'s accusing him of laziness. His attention returns to Banan. \"I have a horse. Do you-\" He coughs again, a frustrated expression on his face when it interrupts his conversation, \"Do you ride? I only learned this summer.\"

[<#9838>] Giliath, looking more and more concerned, moves back a little ways with Caelwen, and they consult in low words. Abanangel does his best on his own. \'Haav?\' he asks, puzzled. The confusion melts away as he hears a word he knows. \'I ride horss\' \" ***** *** **, *****!\"

Keldean watches the two parents for a moment, then turns his attention back to the child, gesturing for him to sit down. The teen drops down onto the pile of blankets again, the cold beginning to make him uncomfortable. \"Have.. umm.. well.. Your -own- horse. A horse just for you.\"

[Giliath(#9838)] Abanangel watches Keldean carefully, and copies him, sitting gracefully cross-legged, the pipe still in his hands. Still being turned over, absently, and fingered. \"Own,\" he says thoughtfully. \"Have horss, own horss.\" Then, uncertainly, he shakes his head. \"Ride a horss,\" he tells Keldean firmly.

Keldean nods slowly, \"So.. you don\'t have one of your own.\" The teen then takes a moment to correct Abanangel\'s pronunciation, \"Horse. A hard sound. Horse!\" His tone is friendly, then he asks, \"It\'s.. umm.. roch.. right?\"

[Giliath(#9838)] \"Horze,\" Abanagel repeats, then again, \"Horse.\" And the smile again, lighting up his entire face. \"Roch. Horse.\" He laughs delightedly, untroubled by the cold. Then he sets himself to business again, small face solemn as he looks around the small enclosure. \"Naur,\" he says, pointing to the fire, which is burning low, and looks up enquiringly.

Keldean nods encouragingly, grinning. \"Yeah, that\'s right!\" The fire is considered, and Keldean is less familiar with this word, \"Nor? No.. wait.. nower?\" He notices how low it\'s become and reaches for a thin stick from a stack in one corner, cracking it into a few small pieces before feeding the flames. \"You don\'t get cold..\" He says, stating it more as a fact. \"Do you get hot?\"

[Giliath(#9838)] \"Naur,\" Abanangel repeats, and waits. \"Naur?\" he says again, and cocks his head considering the other boy. \"Roch, horse,\" he says at last. \"Naur, ...?\"

There is a long pause before he attempts an answer to Keldean\'s question. \"Cold... for little time.\" A shrug, curiously graceful. \"Hot for little time.\"

Keldean tries again with the Sindarin, \"Naahr.. Naur. Is that right?\" The teen coughs, less self-conscious about it with Giliath and Caelwen having their own discussion, \"Naur. Fire.\" He seems confused by the explanation. \"Does the fire burn you?\" Keldean asks, gesturing to the flames.

[Giliath(#9838)] \"Fire,\" Abanangel repeats gravely. \"Naur, fire.\" And he grins up at Keldean. \"Burrne?\" He holds out a hand towards the flame, then pulls it away. \"Hot. Fire iss hot.\"

For the slightest moment Keldean fears that the child may just shove his hand right into the flames, and reaches quickly in alarm. \"Wait!\", but he\'s far too slow and Abanangel is fine. The teen laughs nervously, \"Ok, it burns. You could have just told me.\" He says with relief.

[Giliath(#9838)] And then the two elder elves turn from their conversation, collect their son, make their farewells to Keldean and vanish back towards Imlad.