View Single Post
Old 07-19-2004, 07:21 PM   #272
Ealasaide
Shadow of Tyrn Gorthad
 
Ealasaide's Avatar
 
Join Date: Sep 2003
Location: The Fencing Lyst
Posts: 810
Ealasaide has just left Hobbiton.
Naiore

As the daylight failed and nighttime once more overtook the woods behind the Last Homely House, Naiore Dannan again uncurled her long legs and slid out of her place of concealment in the tree. Glad to be able to move about again, she stretched once, gracefully, before tossing her long braids back over her shoulder and taking up her bow. She had dozed off and on throughout the day, watching and listening when there was something to be learned, sleeping when there was not. So far, though, there had been no sign of Vanwe nor any further sign of Menecin, since she had heard his voice the evening before. Still, she waited, believing in the effectiveness of her works, in the power of her maternal hold over Vanwe. The little whelp would not fail her. She would bring Menecin.

In the meantime, Naiore had learned very little that could be of use to her. She had not seen either of the traitors Avanill or Toby Longholes, nor had she seen Léspheria, though she could sense the healer’s presence. Her cousin. A cold smile touched the corners of Naiore’s fair lips. “If only, dear cousin,” she murmured. “You would come for a walk in the woods...”

The only one who actually had come for a walk in the woods, or close to it, had been the bounty hunter. He had stopped within easy hearing distance for a little talk with the old Ranger Naiore had seen first at the Forsaken Inn. They had had a rather dull chat about old times and the bounty hunter’s late father, whether or not the bounty hunter should take a wife and so on. The only thing that she considered of even mild interest was the fact that the bounty hunter’s ladylove was indeed present in Imladris, a southern woman from the sound of it. Naiore wondered if it was the same southern woman she had seen hanging around at the Forsaken Inn, the same woman she had seen mounting the stairs during the battle two nights earlier. She was fairly certain that it was, and filed the knowledge away in the back of her mind. Perhaps it would come in handy, perhaps not.

Of more interest to Naiore at the moment, though, was the information that Kaldir had misplaced his horse. She had seen the great gray horse on a number of occasions and been impressed by the strength and speed of the beast. If she could find the stallion before his master did, it could be of great advantage to her. She would be in need of a swift steed to make her escape, once she had dealt with Menecin and Vanwe to her satisfaction. Kaldir’s stallion would fit her needs beautifully.

Moving like the shadow of a shadow, Naiore retrieved her pack from where she had hidden it beneath a stand of bushes and slung it easily across her shoulders. She would leave the elven refuge and make a quick reconnaissance of the surrounding area. Since she planned to be on her way again shortly, as soon as her business had been concluded, she needed to decide on the best way out of the area. If she found the bounty hunter’s stray horse in the process, then so much the better.

Choosing her steps carefully, so as to leave no tracks, Naiore left the valley by the same hidden pathway by which she had arrived. As the moon rose higher, she followed the steep path northward into the foothills of the Misty Mountains, planning to circle around to the south of Imladris and ford the river upstream of the Stone Bridge.

Gaining the high ground of the plateau above Imladris, Naiore paused at the tree line, her slender figure still hidden amongst the last fringe of trees. Her starlit eyes scanned the open ground. She must be very, very certain that no one watched before she stepped out of the shadows. Finally satisfied that the way was clear, she broke cover and fairly flew across the open ground, taking shelter again in the shadow of tall, standing stone. She was just preparing to pass the side of the stone and move on when she heard the sound of a voice coming from the far side. A very familiar voice.

“By Garn! Bite me again and I’ll gut ya, ya worthless nag...” the voice trailed off for a moment, before starting up again with a litany of mixed grumbles and curses.

Reaching out with her mind, Naiore’s thoughts touched a familiar entity. Smiling a smile that held no hint of warmth, she confidently rounded the side of the tall stone, her silken garrote held loosely between her fingers. Avanill and Longholes had turned traitor. If Barrold Ferny had, as well, then it would certainly be the worse for him. Perhaps she could take a few minutes to explore what Barrold Ferny knew about fear, then she would leave his carcass on the rocky ground for the crows. Perhaps with an orc’s arrow protruding from his chest? She must be sure to conceal her tracks.

He was hunched over in a small clearing bordered by the large stone and a few scrubby bushes, trying to start a fire with a flint and striker. The twigs he had chosen for tinder, however, were too green and smoldered stubbornly, refusing to light. Ferny’s swearing grew increasingly louder. Beyond him, Naiore was pleased to see the silhouette of a large horse. A large gray horse. The smile on her lips widened ever so slightly.

“I see you have found me a horse,” she said smoothly, stepping into the clearing. “Very good.”

“Hguh!” grunted Ferny with a start. He stumbled backward, his eyes fixed first on the black leather of her boots, then flying upward to her face. “Wot! You’re back then...” he grumbled. “Not even an ’ello, Barrold, or nothing. ’Ere I’ve been waiting for you, got you a good horse n’ everything...”

A dangerous glint came into Naiore’s beautiful eyes as she looked down at him. “Do you find fault with me, Barrold?” she asked. “Do not forget to whom you speak.”

Ferny’s eyes narrowed slightly, then he smiled. “Naw, no fault with you, ma’am.” Looking past her into the darkness, he pushed himself to his feet. “Where’s yer daughter? Isn’t she coming with us?”

“Coming with us?” questioned Naiore. “Of course. I promised her to you, didn’t I? But we are not going anywhere yet. Our work here is not yet done.”

Ferny groaned and spat noisily at the ground. “Not yet done... the place is crawling with elves and orcs and I ’ad a ‘elluva time getting this ’ere ’orse up ’ere, biting and kicking the whole way. Whaddya mean we aren’t leaving?”

“We leave when I say we leave and not a moment before,” answered Naiore, her voice velvety and soft, but firm. “I know where you are now and here you will stay until I return. I have business still in the elven refuge and will return with Vanwe when we are finished. You and the horse will be ready and waiting.”

Ferny muttered something unintelligible and nodded grudgingly.

Naiore gave him a long stare, but something in his demeanor made her pause, turning her silken garrote between her pale fingers.

“If you leave,” she added coolly. “If you fail me, I will find you. Your worst nightmares cannot prepare you for the horror you will endure upon our next meeting.”

“Garn! I’ll be here...” Ferny muttered sullenly.

"Good," purred Naiore. "I expected nothing less. Your loyalty will be greatly rewarded. All that had been promised to the others will go to you now. And you shall have Vanwe for your bride."

A greedy grin flitted across Ferny's rough features. "Yeah. I been loyal, not like them traitors... poisoning me and running off like cowards to the Rangers..."

"Yes, cowards and traitors," echoed Naiore. "And they shall pay with their lives."

Last edited by Ealasaide; 07-20-2004 at 09:38 PM.
Ealasaide is offline