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Old 06-30-2004, 03:42 AM   #236
Hilde Bracegirdle
Relic of Wandering Days
 
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Surinen

By the time they reached the other side of the tent, they were met by a tangible display of the tension that pervaded the camp. The guards had in fact, drawn their swords and the sea captain was stepping backward obligingly, thus removing his person from the proximity of the steel blades aimed at him, his shirt now rent at the chest. Other than that minor casualty, no harm seemed to have come to anyone. And looking for Latah, the outrider found that she was safe, indeed he noticed her staring fixedly at the tear in the visitor’s garments, and felt sure that his diligent cousin was already trying to figure out how to go about mending it, when she hadn’t the words to ask outright if she might do so.

‘Thorondil,’ a voice said softly, half obscured by the murmuring of the crowd. As he heard the whisper beside him, Surinen attention shifted and he looked at the eagle questioningly, trying to glean from those sharp eyes who this Thorondil might be. Had yet another arrived unbeknownst to him? For of the guests, all save one were now standing outside the opening to Fador’s tent, none of them having given this name. But turning back again to follow her gaze he saw the tense expressions of his kinsmen quickly melt into grins as the guest told of how he and his companion had lately outwitted Lord Falasmir. Laughter erupted sporadically as the story was translated and spread throughout the crowd, the Eagles clapping to hear how their guest’s cunning had resulted in the potentate’s great humiliation. And so temporarily reassured by the mutual distrust of this miserable Lord of the coast, the guards lowered their blades, and Surinen, beaming at the news, was no longer thinking of the curious name of Thorondil, but rather of how fitting it was that the corsairs, the pride of the one who thought to harbor the leader of the Dragons, had gone up in flames.

But Surinen could see that Sorona had not followed the tale, seemingly deep in her own thoughts, and though he longed too, he did not question her, but rather watched disinterestedly as the other Gondorian appeared at his captain’s side and Aiwendil and Rôg departed. his mind was full of burgeoning questions about the maenwaith beside him. “Who leads the clan?” Sorona asked in her strangely unaccustomed way, as if her mouth had forgotten how to form the subtle sounds. This eagle, he reminded himself, had been just that, an eagle, for many years. And so the stories of the elder’s must be true, one could loose the ability to assume one’s native shape. But having the high form of his clan and speaking the Eagle’s dialect, the outrider wondered if she were of his blood somehow, belonging to this very encampment and it’s people. But after Rôg’s appearance, the outrider did not wish to make any assumptions in this regard, though he did feel more kindly disposed toward her as a result. And though many were the glances cast her way by the clansman, they were mainly curious, as if they could not place her.

“Who leads our clan?” Surinen repeated. “Hasn’t Ráma told you? It is her mother, Ayar, who we follow. Though you have come at a bad time to meet her. She is very ill, and has taken to her bed many days ago.” A quick flash of light seen from out of the corner of his eye, told him that the guards had once again raised their swords menacingly, the men from the north retiring once again to the interior of the tent. “That is one reason why my people are angry and in no mood for strangers,” he added with a sigh. “It is thought that someone has purposefully brought this deadly harm upon the Meldakhar.”

Shaking her head, Sorona looked at him and shifted her wings, folding them tightly against her sides. “Will she be alright?” she asked fixing him her wide-eyed stare. Surinen dropped his gaze to the ground sadly. “Do you know who would do this?” she queried, replacing her question when she saw the distress it had caused.

“It is rumored that some among us know,” he admitted. “The Meldakhar is a very wise woman, Sorona, with few enemies. But there are some who do not think her wise, and one to whom Ayar’s strength is a trial. And though I do not know, I think it is this one who has brought of our great sadness.”

“But who is that, and to what purpose would this be done?”

“Perhaps it would be better if you saved that question for Ráma, for I know too little and talk too much. And have only been given dreams that I don’t understand,” he said attempting to smile, but his heart felt heavy and began to look around uncomfortably to see where Latah might have gone.

Last edited by Hilde Bracegirdle; 07-02-2004 at 10:00 PM.
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