[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Degas rode with a bitter resignation to his fate as messenger, his entire being aching, rather, to be a member of the rescue team.

He would find the tip that would lead them to the very gates of the fiend's home. That way blocked, he would use his copious amounts of wit to discover a hidden entrance. Moving silently as darkness, he would guide his team through torch lit halls crawling with potential doom. Making their way to the cavernous dungeons, he would spot Linduial. As he'd move toward her, the fiend himself would jump from the shadows and engage him in battle. Swords would clash, daggers would lash out, and Degas would end the battle in a way that legends would later depict as marvelous and kind, disarming the cruel beast that had stolen fair lady and arresting him for the crime with no injury to him. It wasn't, after all, for Degas to meter punishment for the crime. He would look up, Linduial, clad in flowing white, would meet his eyes... He would take the keys from the monster's belt and move to her. Her shackles would fall and she would throw her arms around him and--

Degas hit the ground with a resounding thud. His horse was dancing nervously, stamping at the ground, whinnying. Degas rolled to his feet quickly, rotating the shoulder he landed on and rubbing it as he circled his horse carefully.

She'd never bucked him in her life and he'd raised her from infancy. There, before in the road, was a large snake, coiled and hissing. He shivered at the sight of it, glad there were none present to see what he was about to do.

Grasping her firmly by the reins, Degas led a wide circle around the serpent. Move it? He shivered. He'd only ever dealt with snakes when Caelyn had asked of it. Saeryn had no fear of them. She was fascinated by their sleek scales, the quick darting motions of their tongues. Degas would rather they did not exist, but for the sake of his pride, he would pretend no fear in the presence of others. He rubbed his horse's nose softly, whispering soft reassurances as they avoided the snake together. Once further, and certain of her calm, he mounted once again and continued to ride.

Perhaps a few more hours before his arrival, he thought. He reached into a pack for some dried meat and an apple, guiding his mare with his knees. A few more hours before he informed Lord Farlen and his sons, all of whom Linduial spoke of with great love, that she was missing and the fault was his own.