Not being able to bear the sight of her any longer, Arthain urged his horse on ahead of the others. "Damn the woman! Why did this have to happen? I cannot believe how she used me!" Anger and loathing filled him and he felt the sour taste of bile in his mouth. How long had it been since he had eaten anything, he wondered vaguely, then decided that once they got to Lothlorien, it would cease to matter. He dug in his saddle-bag for an apple and his hand encountered a soft pouch. Curious, he withdrew it and opened it up.
A flash of brilliant green met his gaze, tears filled his eyes unbidden. Melost's stone...the one he was to give to Anwenelme should Melost... No! Never would he let her soil its beauty with her touch as she had stained his own soul. He drew a shuddering breath and slipped the chain over his head and set the stone near his heart. "Where are you, my friend? Have you found your way amid the winding mountain passes, or are you injured with no one to aid you?"
These thoughts began to haunt Arthain and he entertained wild ideas of forsaking his duty and riding off to seek Melost, yet he knew he could not. His own sense of responsibility was too ingrained, that had been one of the many things he had learned from the Elf. Honour and and loyalty would always be foremost.
Suddenly he pulled his horse to a stop as he thought about that a moment. Where had duty gotten Melost? It had brought him betrayal for trust, loneliness for honour, and in all probability, an early death. The one thing he had sought his entire life to avoid. The fact that Arthain had been the instrument of Anwenelme's revenge was so ironic, he had to luagh. "May Melost's curse come home to roost on both of us, witch! We both richly deserve it!" He kicked his horse sharply in the ribs as he turned its head to return to the others. "The sooner we have this over and done with, the sooner I can go in search of Melost."he thought grimly as he went in search of Dorlas.
[ July 16, 2003: Message edited by: Cuthalion ]
|