"And Dorlas...Thank you," Dorlas heard Arthain murmur. The squire turned away without saying anything to Arthain, and the boy merely nodded his acknowledgement before jogging off to notify the women that they were leaving. They needed to leave quickly, there were no doubts there. The skirmish with the orcs was enough of a surprise to begin with, but there was no telling where and when orcs or other foul beasts would strike again. They needed to get to Lothlorien quickly.
How many times had Dorlas wished that he was strong? Strong like Arthain; able to withstand any blow, physically or mentally. More than the squire could actually count or recall. But things at the camp and between Arthain and Dorlas were different after the incident with Melost and Anwenelme. Dorlas was no longer angry at Arthain, but somehow Dorlas didn't feel as if Arthain was the same man anymore.
Dorlas ran up to one group of women, who were chattering presumably about the day's skirmish and whatnot. Dorlas wearily told them to pack up and ready themselves for more riding. When they looked at the boy with hard, cold glances, he sent them an equally serious stare. They grudgingly went to pack up their things and prepare their horses, after which Dorlas continued over to the next Elven lady and the next. They all began to prepare for immediate departure without words or gossip.
Dorlas went and joined Thelian, who was checking for anything wrong with the carts or luggage. The human squire walked to the front of the cart to see to the horses, while Thelian discarded several packs of the women's clothing, which he thought were quite unecessary. The cart was mostly left undamaged, save for one of the jugs of water, which was left cracked and leaking on the edge of the cart.
"Is it bad?" Dorlas asked his Elven friend, his tired voice penetrating the silence. Thelian looked up from where he was tending to the cart, a question in his eyes. Dorlas gestured to where Arthain was leaving one of the lady's tents. Thelian followed Dorlas' eyes to Arthain, who moved on slowly to the next tent.
"No. He'll be fine in no time," Thelian relied monotonously. The Elven squire's icy blue eyes were devoid of emotion, and Dorlas couldn't bear to look at his friend for very long. The look on Thelian's face reminded Dorlas of back when the two squires had first met: before they had become friends and before Thelian lost his keen suspicion of races other than Elven. Still Dorlas grinned boyishly, his first cheerful expression since before Melost ran away.
"At least we shall be moving again and on our way to Lothlorien soon!" Dorlas reasoned as Thelian finished stuffing and strapping every pack of luggage to the cart. Soon the company was ready to make their way to Lothlorien again, and all the women were on their mounts talking almost quietly to one another. Arthain led the progress, with Thelian and Dorlas patrolling the rear.
[ August 16, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]
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...Come down now, they'll say. But everything looks perfect from far away - Come down now! But we'll stay.
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