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Old 04-03-2004, 04:23 PM   #68
mark12_30
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Shield Rohan: Mellon - Amroth

They were startled when the young blacksmith spoke next. "We will certainly not cross the marshes; she would not linger there. We will trace the edge of Fangorn Forest."

Ædegard, Liornung, and Bellyn exchanged glances and raised eyebrows.

"As to how quickly we will travel, that depends on how deeply we challenge these generous horses. Each one is courageous; none will refuse us what we ask."

"And what kind of challenge did you have in mind?" asked Ædegard.

The young blacksmith's eyes met Ædegard's, and Amroth wondered if Ædegard would understand. "They will find rest when I do."

"I will not mistreat these horses, " said Ædegard indignantly, and Liornung nodded in support. Bellyn's eyes grew wide.

Amroth fell silent. Just like his somehow weakened, deadened, unresponsive body, these horses would need physical rest. And these mortals would need rest. He knew it. But that did not make it easier to bear. Every delay gnawed at him, every moment passed in stilness. His whole being cried Onward!

He reached down, and stroked Echo's neck. "Nor do I, " he said. Then he opened his mind to the horses. "Friends, I have need of great haste. But do not let me forget the rest you need."

He released their minds, and turned his heart northward with a silent cry.

The only rest I will find is in your arms, beloved. Where, where are you? Come find me. Speak to me. O Nimrodel, Nimrodel, sing to me again.

Echo tossed his head and lengthened his stride.

~*~*~
Alaklondewen's post
~*~*~

The golden forest was pleasantly quiet as Erebemlin moved soundlessly through the trees. He was following a set of deer tracks that were heading toward the river. If he found the animal delayed by the water’s edge, there would be enough fresh meat for the next few weeks. With winter on the way, the ellon knew the importance of having meat before he and the others found themselves without for the remainder of the season.

As he neared the river, its quiet murmur met his ears. He stopped momentarily, leaning against a mighty mellorn and loosely fitted an arrow to his bow. Steadying his hand, he inhaled deeply and swiftly stepped over bringing the weapon to his eye and pulling the arrow back in one sweeping moment. The buck stood only a few yards from his position, and he readied himself to fire.

The arrow, however, never flew. Just as Erebemlin began to loosen his grip, a cry filled the forest. Speak to me. O Nimrodel, Nimrodel, sing to me again. Then, as quickly as it came, the call was gone. The hunter lowered his weapon and opened his heart searching for its source, but the thought had departed.

Nimrodel. Erebemlin was perplexed by this mysterious cry. The thoughts were so desperate, but who would be searching for the maiden who had long been lost to the world. He could think of only one, but his King had departed long ago for the lands West of the sea.

Last edited by mark12_30; 04-12-2004 at 06:10 AM.
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