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Old 01-10-2004, 12:15 PM   #38
Estelyn Telcontar
Princess of Skwerlz
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Join Date: Jan 2002
Location: where the Sea is eastwards (WtR: 6060 miles)
Posts: 7,534
Estelyn Telcontar is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.Estelyn Telcontar is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.

Wyrma looked up from her papers when she heard a knock on the door of her room. She was alone in the opulently furnished chamber; her maidservant Elsta had left to run an errand. “Enter!” she called imperatively.

A young man came in with buoyant steps, barely containing his excitement to be in this fascinating surrounding. His dark eyes shone with eagerness, and his black curls were slightly tousled, as if he had run from his quarters to hers. It was the first time Tinar, Wyrma’s youngest son, accompanied her on one of her trips to Umbar.

“Mother,” he burst out, “I have finished unpacking my things. May I go out to meet Korpúlfr now? He has promised to show me the city!”

“In the heat of the day?” she protested. “Would you not rather wait until it is cooler?”

“But we won’t have time then – the banquet begins early in the evening, and who knows how long it will take?”

“Then go,” she said, with an inner sigh of resignation, “but go inconspicuously. And be sure to be back in time for…”

“Of course!” he exclaimed impetuously, with the disdain youths of all times have for the well-meaning yet entirely unnecessary admonitions of their mothers. He paused for a moment of concentration, shrinking before her eyes until he was transformed into a sparrow. The little bird fluttered to the window sill, waiting impatiently for her to open the painted wooden shutters, then disappeared into the shimmering afternoon air.

Wyrma closed the shutters and stretched her weary back before sitting down again. She found planning and writing more tiring than anything else, though it was a necessary part of her office as leader of her people. Her eldest son had given her many sheaves to peruse, and his image rose to her mind as she studied them. Markal was a pompous, officious man who seemed older than his years. If she could have chosen a form for him, it would have been a donkey, she thought wryly.

He was dutiful, but a weakling, looking to her to make the decisions that he implemented. Worse yet, he was boring – just like his father. He would never be the leader of their people. He did not have the magnetism, the power, the personality that was necessary. Most important, he lacked the essential ability that her people would expect of her successor. No, he was more suited to what he did now, supervising the business of the city that was developing as her capital.

It would be more strenuous to supervise Tinar, true, but it was time to give her youngest the opportunity to show and develop his abilities. None of his elder brothers had evidenced an inclination to follow in her footsteps as yet. Should he have any of the characteristics of his real father, combined with hers, he could become the next Great Wyrm – if he learned to…

She swept aside the papers with an impatient gesture, as if to brush away the irksome thoughts that troubled her mind. Perhaps she should rest before the evening came – she would need all of her wits about her in the treacherous scheming of this court.

Last edited by piosenniel; 04-05-2007 at 11:36 AM.
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