The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum - View Single Post - Castle Maladil

piosenniel · 12-14-2002, 02:40 AM

It was that curious hour before the sun crept over the easterm rim of the horizon. A quiet stillness that burst into song as all the birds took up the great harmony and called forth the light.

Holly had awakened some time before, when all was still dark and quiet. She'd fed the few embers of last night's fire with dry wood shavings, and blown gently at the heart of it. Small flames licked up round the twigs she offered, and rose up hungrily to devour the larger chunks of wood stacked over it. Soon there was a small, crackling fire burning, and she heated a pan of water for tea.

She sat hunched on a log near the fire, her cloak wrapped round her against the cold, sipping slowly at the warm brew. Gandalf, she saw, was up early, too. She could just make out his grey figure moving about in the pre-dawn chill. Her right hand strayed to the inner pocket of her vest. She patted her map and the piece of paper he had written on and given her last night, assuring herself they were still safely in her possession.

Her brow furrowed as she turned that puzzling scene over in her mind. He had drawn quite near her, and spoke clear enough that others might hear what he said. His face, turned from the others' view, was drawn, his brows knit, and his posture as he hunched toward her, conveyed a mixture of concern and trust.

Holly had gotten the feeling that he had not chosen off handedly to speak with her, but for the life of her, she could not fathom the wizard's purpose. Her one clear understanding, though, was that it was of a quite serious nature.

The birds were still singing as she walked quietly across the encampment to where he sat now, gazing toward the east. She crouched down by his seated figure and held out to him a mug of hot, fragrant tea. They watched in companionable silence as a pale dawn spread over the dark land.

Gandalf wrapped his cold fingers appreciatively around the warm mug, and took in the sweet scent of summer flowers heavy with the promise of honey. He was smiling, and at ease, as Holly asked her question, her low voice carrying softly to his ears.

'Laurëondo, Gandalf, what can you tell me of this word?'

12-14-2002, 02:40 AM	#142
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	It was that curious hour before the sun crept over the easterm rim of the horizon. A quiet stillness that burst into song as all the birds took up the great harmony and called forth the light. Holly had awakened some time before, when all was still dark and quiet. She'd fed the few embers of last night's fire with dry wood shavings, and blown gently at the heart of it. Small flames licked up round the twigs she offered, and rose up hungrily to devour the larger chunks of wood stacked over it. Soon there was a small, crackling fire burning, and she heated a pan of water for tea. She sat hunched on a log near the fire, her cloak wrapped round her against the cold, sipping slowly at the warm brew. Gandalf, she saw, was up early, too. She could just make out his grey figure moving about in the pre-dawn chill. Her right hand strayed to the inner pocket of her vest. She patted her map and the piece of paper he had written on and given her last night, assuring herself they were still safely in her possession. Her brow furrowed as she turned that puzzling scene over in her mind. He had drawn quite near her, and spoke clear enough that others might hear what he said. His face, turned from the others' view, was drawn, his brows knit, and his posture as he hunched toward her, conveyed a mixture of concern and trust. Holly had gotten the feeling that he had not chosen off handedly to speak with her, but for the life of her, she could not fathom the wizard's purpose. Her one clear understanding, though, was that it was of a quite serious nature. The birds were still singing as she walked quietly across the encampment to where he sat now, gazing toward the east. She crouched down by his seated figure and held out to him a mug of hot, fragrant tea. They watched in companionable silence as a pale dawn spread over the dark land. Gandalf wrapped his cold fingers appreciatively around the warm mug, and took in the sweet scent of summer flowers heavy with the promise of honey. He was smiling, and at ease, as Holly asked her question, her low voice carrying softly to his ears. 'Laurëondo, Gandalf, what can you tell me of this word?' __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.