Vorondil looked down at the troubled woman, staring resolutely at the stream as if she and it were the only ones left in the clearing. In a way, the young Ithilian felt ridiculous standing there, a feeling he was not use to, and did not care for.
It was so much easier dealing with a Haradan warrior or a Rohanian horseman. One knew where one stood. Dealing with women, though? He wondered how his hero, Aragorn, would handle such a situation. Then he smiled to himself. The wizard Gandalf could certainly pick the most confounding travel companions sometimes.
He cleared his throat, and pulled from his satchel a handful of coins, the remainder of the silver that had been strewn in the dust. "Here are your winnnings. I suppose you earned them, in your own way."
She whirled around at that, glaring balefully at the Ranger in a way that would have caused him to draw his sword, if she had been a man. She said with icy politeness, "Pray deliver those coins to the Halfling Olo. I cannot return to the inn."
Volondil bridled at being addressed as if he were an errand boy or page. Then he took a deep breath, and gently leaned down, laying the pile of silver pennies on the edge of her skirt. He wished he could just return to the inn and have his long delayed supper. But he stayed anyway.
Bird looked down at the heap of silver, pride warring with cold reality. Fortunately, pride surrendered the field this time, but waited in the rear, preparing for the next assault.
Bird scooped up the coin and stood up, brushing off her "new" skirt. She then counted out twelve pennies. There were eleven left. "Well", she thought ruefully, "At least I came out ahead in the end." She took the twelve and held them out to the Ranger, who still towered above her. Clearing her throat as well, she said simply, "Please?" And to his surprise, he took them.
At that moment, the high, clear voice of Holly could be heard calling "Bird! Birdie?" Vorondil turned back down the trail, almost with a sense of relief. "It seems that your friend returns with your goods, and you shall not need my my services after all. I hope you will now excuse..." he turned to deliver an ironic bow at his prickly adversary.
And she was gone. Vorondil slapped his thigh in exasperation. "Now see here, Woman! This is not the time or place for such games. Return to the inn with your friends!" The forest was silent except for the singing of the river.
He followed her track for a bare few yards. It ended at a bare boulder huddled in the roots of a massive mulberry tree, half dead, with strangely arm-like branches.
He circled tree and boulder, but there was no sign or hint of a trail. It was as if his quarry had been lifted into the air. At last he returned to the inn by a different route, avoiding the two halfings for the moment.
He did not mention the lost trail to his companions, either.
[ August 11, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]
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