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Old 03-03-2006, 06:57 PM   #91
Firefoot
Illusionary Holbytla
 
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Join Date: Dec 2003
Posts: 7,646
Firefoot has been trapped in the Barrow!
The day was finally drawing to evening by the time Léof returned to the Mead Hall. He had stopped by once to make sure Marenil was doing all right; Gárwine’s hurried explanation had worried him and he was relieved to find that he would eventually be fine. But other than that brief sojourn, he had spent the rest of the time happily alone in the stables.

Before returning to the hall, he did remember to clean himself up a bit. He washed his face with the same fresh water he used to fill the horses buckets and straightened his hair out as best he could without being able to see his reflection. He could do little about his rather worn clothes except brush the worst of the dirt off; changing them would be no good since his only other outfit was equally worn and dusty. At least he did not look like some stray lad off the streets anymore – or so he hoped.

The sound of merry music greeted his ears as he pushed through the doors. The lord Eodwine and Saeryn had struck up a vigorous dance, and many of the people were contributing to the music in some way, whether with real or makeshift instrument. As Léof picked up the beat, he began to clap along in appreciation. He was not much of a musician himself, nor had he ever learned much of dancing, but he appreciated good music as much as anyone. He did feel stabs of regret, however: not for himself, but rather for his sister, three years his junior. When would she ever learn to dance like that or have time to enjoy herself as all young lasses should? She had been even worse off than he, and she was still trapped at home. And within a few years, their father would undoubtedly marry her off, thus sealing her cage. She did not have any way out, either, not like him. Not that she ever complained. She held her head high and bore it all in silence – the obedient child that Léof could not be. Léof had always regretted that he had never been able to help her in any consequential way, and had been wishing over the past several days that he had not needed to leave her behind. He had to get her out of there. Eventually, when he could save up enough money, he would bring her out of there to Edoras. He did not have much of a plan for after that, but he knew that he had to get her out. He knew that he was his only hope, and it was a burden he placed willingly upon himself.

Such thoughts for the lively tune! But as he came back to himself, he realized that the harp’s music was no longer vibrant and joyful but poignant and mournful. How odd, he mused, that the Dunlending should take so much of the joy out of this place with his dark song? Is that the manner of his people, to take a near-party and turn it into something sorrowful? As the song drew to a close, Léof found himself more confused about the choice of song than particularly moved by the song itself. And as rustic and out of place as Léof had felt in his short time in Edoras, he could see those traits exemplified tenfold in the Dunlending, however accepting Léof might be. He had no idea how he ought to respond to the music, and for once he was thoroughly glad that he was faded into the background.
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