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Old 09-13-2004, 04:55 AM   #292
Nerindel
Spirited Weaver of Fates
 
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Vanwe

In another room in the house two elves packed in solemn silence, all that had needed to be said had been said, concerns aired, fears confronted until father and daughter had come to a solemn understanding. Vanwe emptied the contents of the pouch that Lespheria had returned to her onto the bed, lifting the crumpled notes scrawled in her hand she read over them sombrely, a silent anger spread over her as she saw the depth of her denial in the words she herself had written, so long ago it now seemed but a distant memory, a fleeting fantasy! Screwing up the notes she tossed them defiantly onto the cold black coals of the unlit fire and then turning back her deep blue eyes fell on the dark twisted leather, that served as a reminder of what lay behind. Golden strands of fine elven hair had become caught up in the leather braiding, the hair of her mother that Hanasian had given her, the irony struck her as she picked it up and held it delicately in her hands. It had been Naiore who had abandoned her , the Harad camp a prison of her mothers design were she could be left and forgotten. Closing her hand around the twisted leather she felt her fathers concerned gaze on her, putting the truth of her past back into her pouch, with the little copper she possessed she turned and smiled in his direction, but his gaze had already dropped. Fastening her pack and tying her pouch securely to the elven belt she now wore, she walked up and laid a comforting hand on her fathers shoulder.

“It will be ok,” she whispered softly.

“You can’t possibly know that, You do not know her as I do!” Menecin replied after a moments silence, turning, his eyes studied her gravely, “I do not know if I can protect you?” he admitted regretfully.

Vanwe nodded smiling sympathetically. “I know the danger we face, but you do understand why we must go, don’t you?” She asked looking up at him.

Menecin nodded and took his daughter into his arms “We need this to end!” he whispered, affectionately kissing the top of her head. Vanwe remain in the warmth of her fathers embrace comforted and secure like a small child for several moments before gently pulling away.

“I’m so glad I found you,” she whispered as she turned and reached for her pack, her father smiled down on her but a small glimmer of fear and sadness still shone in his eyes as he too took up his pack and adjusted his weapons. Vanwe slipped the small knife into her belt then they were both ready to leave.

They met Léspheria in the hallway and together the three elves made their way to the stables, where Léspheria was relieved to see her white mare had found her way safely into the care of the elven stable masters, Amandur’s dark charger was also there stabled in the next stall. Léspheria then spoke quietly with one of the elven stablemen who quickly left, returning a short while later with two more horses fully tacked and then handing the reigns to the two stunned elves he turned back to speak with Léspheria. Vanwe with her fathers help fastened her pack to the saddle of the grey mare she had been given, it was a beautiful creature and reminded her of devrion and the horses back at the inn, wondering sadly if she would ever see them again she adjusting the stirrups on the saddle and looked up to see Léspheria approach leading a white mare and a dark and noble looking charger that she recognised as Amandur’s mount.

“We will wait here for the others they should not be long,” Léspheria said as she loosely hitched both horses to a nearby post. Vanwe nodded as she stroked the long face of her mare, while Menecin watched intently the sway of the trees in the forest beyond.
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