* Gandalf could not help it. Hearty laughter burst forth at Birdland’s description of himself serving a convivial cup of tea to Sauron. His hilarity was not meant to disparage Birdland in any way, but was simply piqued by the fantastical impossibility of it all. Gandalf happened to look over at Poppy and was relieved to see the Hobbit gently smiling at the humor. But then, just when the wizard had composed himself, Andreth had to go and call the shape-shifter a, a … brigand, of all things! The memory of Birdland’s infamous shell game and the eleven silver pieces was impossible to ignore, it having just transpired two days ago. *
* … But fortunately, neither could he ignore that she’d then bested him in a riddle-game and settled the whole matter both expertly and honorably. Before fresh gales of laughter dared explode, Gandalf ground the palm of his hand into the top of his staff until it hurt. But it was a private glance to the wizard from Bethberry at once sobering and filled with soft understanding that was the curative enabling him to fully regain appropriate equilibrium. *
Well then Andreth, I suppose I’m a brigand too. For not only do I consent to be in her company, but moreover, I am glad of it. * The wizard’s tone was calmly good-natured. *
* As Andreth took up a post by Volondil, Bethberry strode over to Bird and handed her a familiar-looking pack. The pack bulged just slightly, clinking with the sound of coins, crinkling with the sound of papers rubbing against each other and resting against coarse cloth. * Yours, I think. Holly couldn't wait. Kind Peri delivered moss and kingsfoil that I've put to use tending Volondil. As for the Ranger, his chances for healing ever grow, if he be guarded from infection and foe. Holly left with Peri and Olo. They bid us fare well for now, for they upon another path must go. Eirian has left as well.
* With a soft tug at his beard, Gandalf frowned at the loss of Holly and Olo. He turned to look at Poppy again, then gazed at her Elvish caretaker with thoughtful regard. * So we're down to one Hobbit to serve as castle scout. Don't you lose this one, Menelduliniel!
* Gandalf ran a finger over the sealing wax on the back of the envelope that Nardol had given him. So much conflicting business to tend to all at once. Master Elrond’s letter to Galadriel must be urgent indeed, for a rider to be sent with such haste from Rivendell with a new letter to replace the one that had been destroyed. But the arrow aimed at Bird clove his hopes for reading the letter as he wished. No time … *
* The falling night was pierced by defiant braying neighs from Midnight. Too close, for the war steed's cries were accompanied by croaked commands whose words could just be made out on the wind by those of keen hearing: * Whoa! Halt in the name of Mordor! That’s where yer from, from the looks of yer, yer brute! * Soon the voice was cut short. Another voice taking up a battle cry fell silent as well. *
[ December 05, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]
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