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Old 01-12-2006, 10:10 AM   #295
Estelyn Telcontar
Princess of Skwerlz
 
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Join Date: Jan 2002
Location: where the Sea is eastwards (WtR: 6060 miles)
Posts: 7,645
Estelyn Telcontar has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!Estelyn Telcontar has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!Estelyn Telcontar has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!Estelyn Telcontar has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!Estelyn Telcontar has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!Estelyn Telcontar has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!Estelyn Telcontar has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!Estelyn Telcontar has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!Estelyn Telcontar has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!Estelyn Telcontar has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!
'The Horse and Her Elf'

The Very Secret Diary of Falafel (Noble Steed, associated with yet not owned by Merisuwyniel)


Day Umpteenthousand-something-or-other – who really cares?! I don’t suppose anyone will ever read this anyway, because all of the history will come from the Red and Green and Yellow Books that are written from some Elven, Human, or Hobbit point-of-view.

We equine companions (and similar creatures) didn’t have much to do during that ridiculous and confusing battle. There were so many fighters popping up out of nowhere and disappearing again, turning miniature, and whatever (especially whatever!), that our DismountedShip never had time to ride. And where would they have gone if they had? Looks like we’re trapped in this far-away country; the flying vehicle that brought us here is shattered, and what ship would bear us ever back across so wide a Sea?

Anyway, we lounged around on the sidelines, counting the arrows that Vogonwë plucked out of thin air, betting who’d be the next coward to hide behind us, and mesmerized by the rise and fall of Merisuwyniel’s, um – breath. Unfortunately, the farther the battle progressed, the less food and drink were available to us. The grass withered, the flowers faded, because the tainted breath of Mogûl blew upon it, and water was no more.

When we realized that we too would be affected by the outcome of the battle, we finally roused ourselves to action. I wish someone would have taken note of the valiant deeds done by those of us they call animals; those two-legged “fighters” could have learned a thing or two! I put my hooves to very effective use, and the others followed my example. Without our help on the flanks, the Elves, Humans, Hobbits and all mixtures thereof couldn’t have held out long enough for Yawanna to win the day.

I’m not complaining, mind you – I’m just glad it’s over. Of course it’s sad that one of the Questers died at Mogûl’s hands – or head it was – but they were lucky not more lost their lives. I was afraid if the enemy didn’t get them, Chrysophylax’ fire would; he sure had himself a BBQ! But I guess his aim is better than I thought.

Here we are then, on our way upwards, judging from the terrain. Most of our companions are way behind; when I look back to see if they are still following, even my equine eyes cannot discern their faces nor recognize who is still moving. At the beginning my fellow beasts of burden made a show of pulling the cart in honour of Orogarn’s heroic death, but I’m the only one left now. ‘He ain’t heavy’ – hah! Either he is or the wooden artefacts are. Anyway, my mistress and the Green Goddess are walking hand in hand beside me; it’s just the three of us, with that mountain looming large ahead of us.

But though all others forsake Merisu, I will never leave her nor forsake her; whither she goeth I will go. And it may be that I will be her equine companion for many long years, for unto me has been given the lifespan of my foresire Felaróf, which exceeds that of normal horses by far. And it looks like Yawanna will stay with us too, at least as long as we are here in her country; I heard her say, “You’ll always have Paris!” That I didn’t understand, so I pricked my ears (different and less painful than piercing them!) and heard the echo say, “You’ll always have the pair of us!” She means me too! A very insightful goddess.

It looks like we’ve gotten wherever we’re going, at least for now; Yawanna has begun singing a song of worship, apparently. Let me see if I can hear the words; I’m sure the other horses will be jealous when I sing it to them!

Quote:
She’ll be coming around the mountain when she comes,
she’ll be coming around the mountain when she comes,
she’ll be coming around the mountain, she’ll be coming around the mountain,
she’ll be coming around the mountain when she comes.
later...

We stopped at the foot of the mountain, where there were a number of mounds covered with white flowers. Instinctively I knew that those were not for nibbling and kept to the grass a short distance away.

“Should we not wait for the others to join us for the burial?” Merisu asked.

“Nay,” Yawanna answered. (I would have given the same answer had she asked me!) “For who knoweth how long it will take them nor whether they shall even come to this place, here at the end of all subplots. Besides, my husband would think that he could do it better, and instead of a mound we’d have another chasm. And when it’s broke, who fixes it?!”

With a charming wave of her emerald hands, she beckoned to the vines, bushes, and herbs that surrounded us, and they pushed clear a level space. Then they reached up to the cart and gently lifted Orogarn Two (yes, respect requires the suffix) ’s body and laid it there. His noble sword they placed at his side. Afterwards they piled the earth high above his remains, and within the shortest time flowers were growing on it. Amidst them the green leaves were shaped like unto a funny penguin, though some took the form of a ghastly green something-or-other.

Suddenly I heard Merisuwyniel’s voice begin to sing; I would have recognized its lovely tones anywhere, beautiful enough to melt the hearts of good and evil races, even to touch Mantoes’ compassion on behalf of her beloved, as had been the case long ago. But the words she sang were wonderfully fashioned, more than any of hers had ever been, and I surmised that the creative spirit that pervaded this holy place had suffused her.


Quote:
Build high the barrow his bones to keep!
For here shall be hid both mouse and keyboard;
and to the ground be given blû dením Djeens,
and green Tê-Shirt with sword gleaming,
wealth unbegrudged for the well-beloved;
of forum admins the first and noblest,
to his moderators help unfailing,
to his members the fairest founder of websites.
Glory loved he; now glory earning
his grave shall be green, while forum or mainsite,
while post or thread in the internet lasteth.
Strange and otherworldly did those words sound to me, as echoes of another age perhaps, and I pondered them without finding meaning. Whether my mistress understood what she sang or not, it was a beautiful and touching moment. Yet our trip up the high mountain of Tan-Quickly-Hill had only begun.

Last edited by Estelyn Telcontar; 01-16-2006 at 09:27 AM.
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