View Single Post
Old 05-06-2004, 02:08 PM   #183
littlemanpoet
Itinerant Songster
 
littlemanpoet's Avatar
 
Join Date: Jan 2002
Location: The Edge of Faerie
Posts: 7,049
littlemanpoet is a guest at the Prancing Pony.littlemanpoet is a guest at the Prancing Pony.
Tolkien Anorien: Raefindan

A number of things happened at once. Raefindan dove into the water to rescue the merchant. Mellonin came to Aeron to see how he fared. Gwyllion stared at the merchant, her face white. The merchant's man drew his sword and crossed over to Gwyllion, lifted her to her feet, and held his sword at her neck.

"You and yours have raised a hand against my master. Do so again and this one pays."

Ravion's eyes went hard and his body tensed, his sword aimed at the man at arms. Aeron and Mellonin both turned as if yanked around by a rope, and stared at the man and Gwyllion, who had begun to whimper.

Raefindan pulled the merchant to shore. He was glad the man was skinny. Once he was sure the man was safe on land, stretched on the beach and coughing like a seal barking, he came forward, both hands raised, giving a quick reassuring nod to Ravion as he turned to face the man at arms. He would have to think about seals barking, what they were and where he remembered them from, later, when he had a chance.

"I have helped your master. We do not mean ill to you nor your master. Release the girl."

The man at arms looked questioningly to the merchant.

Raefindan spoke to the merchant. "Sir, please tell your man we mean you no harm. You have had my aid."

Slowly, the merchant considered, and at last, nodded. "Let the girl go. But keep that sword leveled on the boy!"

"Thank you," Raefindan said. He put a hand up to Ravion, who had raised his sword higher at the threat to Aeron.

"Sir, there is something that we would like to explain - ah - um - clear up about Aeron - but only when these swords drop."

The merchant looked from Ravion to Raefindan, glanced at Aeron, then gave an eyebrow raised look at his man at arms who shrugged noncommitally.

"Make him put his sword away first," said the merchant, pointing to Ravion.

"I cannot make him do anything, for he is our leader, but I am sure that he will agree to lower his sword if your man will do the same. Sir?" The merchant nodded. "My thanks. Ravion?"

As they watched, both swords lowered slowly, as if they were attached by elastic somehow, until their points rested near the ground.

"As I was saying, sir, we are this boy's jailers. We are giving him his punishment."

The merchant's brow rose again. "How?"

"Ah, sir, that is a good question. The answer best comes from Ravion, for it was he who arranged it. But before we speak more, might we not procure - ah - um - get - some towels or cloth to dry ourselves, and then perhaps something hot to drink for my good man here and his trusty footman?"

Last edited by littlemanpoet; 05-06-2004 at 08:32 PM. Reason: grammar corrections
littlemanpoet is offline