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Old 12-22-2003, 07:57 PM   #253
littlemanpoet
Itinerant Songster
 
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Join Date: Jan 2002
Location: The Edge of Faerie
Posts: 7,072
littlemanpoet is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.littlemanpoet is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.
Tolkien

Raefindan hoped that Mellonin didn't take his facial expressions to heart. He liked to exaggerate his expressions now and then. He would have to show her just how exaggerated he could be some time, when she knew him better. But now he had to ask himself how he knew that about himself, and he again came up with no answer. Royal blood? He thought not. Most assuredly not! More likely he was the court jester, or whatever there was akin to that wherever he had come from. Hmm.... clueless. He knew the word was one that came naturally to his mind. Should I be more careful that my words reflect this place? He felt that he should, but that he would probably let some things slip. He shrugged.

He knelt on the blanket Melonnin had provided, and grabbed the brush around his cloth-wrapped hands. Yes, he could feel the difference. He could put more of his weight into his brushing. And now he grimaced as the pain moved into his shoulders, arms, and wrists. He figured that it was as it should be, for he was finally doing it right. He straightened, looking at the floor as if he had seen a ghost there.

"Well, by George, look at that!"

Raefindan could see how much cleaner the spot was where he had just worked on, compared to the areas he had been slaving over. He rolled his eyes.

"Oh no. Now I'll need to go back over the rest of it. I'm going to die before I get this done!"

He looked over his shoulder, hoping nobody had heard that little bit of melodrama. Melodrama. Now, there as another word he knew, and knew what it meant, but was sure it did not fit in this land and place. What would Melonnin say about it? 'Melo' would be related to 'friend' in the elvish speech here, he considered as he sloshed the brush in the bucket again, and 'drama' had no place in any bit of the elvish speech that he knew of.

"And how, Raefindan, do you know that?" It was as if he knew this place from wherever he had come from. How? He did not know, and wished he did. He grimaced again, stopped to crack his back, and fell to his assignment yet again. And he would have to find out who 'George' was now, too.
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