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Old 01-14-2007, 03:16 PM   #42
littlemanpoet
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Ædegard and Raefindan

"A charge is not-" Aeron paused, "-is not flesh and blood. A charge is nothing but a handful of words. Would you put words above the living? Amroth is dead. But from the West has come no word, And on the Hither Shore No tidings Elven-folk have heard Of Amroth evermore. This is foolish."

Aeron's words questioned Ædegard's way of life, though the lad did not know it. Ædegard did not hold that against the lad, but nevertheless he felt a need to calm his thought and refrain from lashing out with what seemed obvious to him. He held his peace.

"Will you stay with us, or look for the women?" asked Raefindan.

Aeron took a little time before he answered in a whisper.

"The last time I went off by myself led only to trouble; I fear that if I were to seek for them alone, I would do less than nothing. But hear me, I do not agree with this, putting one over many. Is it because he is an elf king?" Aeron snorted. "They may be fairer, but their life is not worth more than ours. I now only hope that my dreams of Gwyllion are only dreams, and nothing more."

"Do not hope such a hope!" Raefindan answered. "For it is despair masking itself as hope. Hope rather that your dream shall be proved true!"

"I do not agree with putting one over many either, unless he has earned his leadership," said Ædegard. "That is the way of the Eorlingas. And do not doubt the might of words, for they are the bones of men's ways. My words bind me."

Jorje

“Can come,” said the man as he walked away. Jorje licked the air and trotted after. The man's hand was a good hand. Jorje could tell it from the way he moved and showed his first place and his aroo. All men took first place with dogs. Jorje had smelled it over and over again. Their ma folk, some took first and some didn't. Their young ones, some ran in fear, some made themselves pack and played at being dogs and that was sign of aroo some day. Other young ones threw sticks and stones and that was eerm. This man was aroo. Before long, Jorje was trotting ahead, behind, far to one side then another, sniffing all the different smells and hearing what there was to hear. But always he was sure where the man was, and kept him in sight, racing to him and away now and again. He made the man the first one of his pack of two.
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