[VanimaEdhel]

Castar swore as he hurriedly fixed himself a good spot at the market. Tinu had thrown a shoe a good two miles from the gates of Edoras, costing Castar nearly an hour and a half. The horse was now at the local blacksmith, getting a new shoe. Castar had arranged for the horse to be put in a stable at the White Horse Inn, where Castar would be staying that night. Castar usually liked to arrive very early to Edoras in order to secure the best spot he could find. Now, however, he had to compete with the other traders in finding a suitable location to set up his pottery. Luckily, none of his wares had been damaged when Tinu had spooked at the loss of his shoe. This past month had been particularly light back at home in Eodrath, and Castar hoped to make up for his losses in Edoras this market week. He did not worry too much, as he usually managed to sell everything he had left when he came for his monthly visit to the Farmer’s Market.

Once the table was set up, Castar went to get a cloth to cover it. He chose the old cloth with Quenya written around the edges and patterns upon the face. His father had bought the cloth from a trader at this market when he was young. His father believed that the cloth brought luck, and so both Battir and his son, Castar, used the cloth every month when they went to the market. Neither had been able to find out what the cloth said, but Battir was told that it was a Quenya prayer. Castar always kept his eye out to see if he could find an Elf to translate the ancient writing for him. Not many Elves came through the market though. What would an Elf need with Rohirric pottery, food, or glassware? Nonetheless, it was always good to keep a lookout for a possible translator…

Castar carefully began to put his best pottery on the table. He stood back to admire the work he had done. Castar knew that he was an even better potter than old Battir. A few winters ago, Battir had begun to show signs of his age, so he now stayed home with Phâryn, Castar’s mother, while Castar did the family trading at the market. As the only child of the family, Castar felt an obligation to his parents, so he remained at home, caring for them when he could. This worried the family, for Castar was no longer young; at the age of thirty-four, he was showing no signs of interest in any of the women from Eodrath. Castar had promised his family he would keep an eye open for a potential wife in Edoras, but he doubted he would follow through with that promise. In Edoras, it was more fun to look at the women than to actually speak to them, Castar thought.

It was much better looking at the women, Castar thought to himself as he watched some young ladies not too far away from him setting up a fruit stand. He looked across at them and smiled. They giggled and blushed, continuing to set up. Castar was told he was handsome by some. He did not think his looks were extraordinary in any way. They, in fact, were not extraordinary, but they were still fairly pleasing. Castar pushed a lock of straight sandy-brown hair that had escaped the ribbon he used to tie his hair back out of his eyes. His mother always wanted him to cut his hair. Castar chuckled at the memory of his mother telling him he would be so handsome if he would only cut his hair. Castar knew it would make no difference and, even if it did, what did he care?

"Do you like those women?" a voice said. Castar turned around to face a man about his age. He had dark hair, nearly black, and piercing gray eyes.

"Not particularly," Castar replied, "They are fun to look at, though, I suppose." Castar looked at the man in front of him, "You don’t happen to have Elf blood in you? For you look as the tales describe them."

"No," the young man said, smiling apologetically, "I do get asked that quite a bit, though. What is your name?"

"My birth name is Luthur, but I like people to call me Castar," Castar said, as he extended his hand to the handsome man.

"You nickname yourself for money? Is that not proud?" the young man said, smiling, "I am Windheneb. But my friends call me Winde. Windheneb is Sindarin and it means blue and grey-eyed. Winde simply means blue-grey."

"That is quite an explanation," Castar said as Winde took his hand, "Are you sure you have no Elf in you? For, as you said, that name is Elvish."

"No, I am sure," Winde said. He gestured over Castar’s shoulder. Castar turned just in time to see the ladies that he had smiled at stare at Winde for a second more. They giggled when they realized that he knew they were watching him and went back about their business. Castar exhaled in amusement at their fascination with his new acquaintance.

"You said that your friends call you Winde. What shall I call you?" Castar asked.

Winde’s eyes glittered, "What do you think you should call me?"

"Well, Henny is a nice name," Castar said, feigning consideration of the nickname.

"If you go on like that, you can call me Windheneb," said Winde, "No. Just call me Winde."

"That suits me," Castar said, "So what do you deal?" At the look of confusion on Winde’s face, he clarified, "What are you selling here?"

"Oh," Winde said, "I sell clothing. I make it myself, you know." Winde stood up a bit taller, showing pride in his work. Castar did not voice his opinion that fashioning clothing was for women, but merely nodded and gave a little "hmmm" of approval.

"What do you sell?" Winde asked him. Castar showed Winde his pottery and told him about Battir and Phâryn, his parents. He explained the family trade, his brief life story, and even showed Winde the cloth with Quenya writing. He told him about his home town of Eodrath, a teeny town about twenty or twenty-five miles down the Great West Road from Edoras. Castar did not know why he was telling this new friend all of this, but it felt good to just talk to someone. Winde told him that he had lived in Edoras all his life. His mother made clothing and his father had been a shop owner, in which they sold his mother’s clothing among other things. His father still owned the store, but his mother had taken ill a few months back. Winde had been taught to sew by his mother at an early age, in the hopes of keeping him quiet when he was a child. He had taken over the manufacturing of the clothing when his mother fell sick, and he hoped to continue making clothing even after his mother gained back her strength. He had two sisters, both of who were married, one to a blacksmith and the other to a city guard. They had families of their own, so they were too busy to help in the care of Winde’s mother. Winde was twenty-seven and unmarried. He told Castar that he liked women too much to be married. Castar laughed, wholeheartedly agreeing with the sentiment.

"But," Castar said, "If the right woman were to come along…?"

"Then she should watch out, "Winde said. "But," he continued, "For now it is still more fun to be single." He gestured back to the young women, who were looking at him again.

"I do envy your luck," Castar said.

"It is all about how you hold yourself," Winde said, "You have to exude confidence."

Castar snorted, "Exude confidence? Where did you hear that?"

"A friend of mine said it once, but that’s not the point. You have to believe the women want to give their attention to you, even if they do not. Maybe I will share my secrets later…if you prove to be worthy of my attention," Winde said, a gleam in his eye. "Will you be staying here?"

"I am the only one to sell the pottery," Castar said, nodding.

"I am right over there. I will be back later, when I can get one of my sisters to take care of the booth. Then maybe I can teach you the Art of Women."

Castar waved good-bye to Winde as the handsome man made his way back to his table. He was still laughing a bit at the cockiness of the young man. Castar had never met a man like this Winde. He hoped he was not making a mistake trusting him so soon. Well, Castar always did have the knife in his pocket, should anything go awry. He smiled again to himself, sitting down behind his table and awaiting his first customer. The young women had set up their table and were now standing behind it, giggling and occasionally looking at Winde.

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OOC: Bethberry told me that I can put up that Winde is up for grabs if anyone wants to play him. I gave you a basic biography and you've seen his style. I can probably still play him if no one claims him, but he seems like a character that people would want to play. If you want him, just take over. You don't need to PM me about it.

[ July 11, 2003: Message edited by: VanimaEdhel ]