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Old 05-05-2004, 10:52 AM   #181
mark12_30
Stormdancer of Doom
 
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Taitheneb looked from Amroth to Erebemlin. In a thousand years, why would not the maiden have found her way to the havens? Why could Amroth not see the obvious?

Including his own young, mannish body... A flush remained on his cheeks, his breathing was not restful, his heartbeat pounded in the veins on his neck. The wild boy did not look so. Taitheneb studied Nethwador; he was smudged and tattered, but his breathing was steady and quiet, his heartbeat restful. Taitheneb frowned, and bent his thoughts toward Erebemlin.

They say that Feanor's spirit was so hot that the flame of it consumed his body when he died.

Erebemlin started, looked at Amroth as if seeing him for the first time, and spoke urgently. "My lord, the body that you wear is not strong. It is weary. It is tired and weary as if... as if by many mannish years."

"My lord, your body is ill. It is sick, " said Taitheneb, who better understood the world of men.

This, Amroth cound not deny. "I am weary. I have often been so this past month," he confessed. "I have never slept so much. Only yesterday, I slept all day."

There was silence, again broken only by Nethwador's munching. He had finished his second half-loaf, and washed it down with wine and fruit. Taitheneb silently gave him another half-loaf.

"My lord, you must do what sick men do until they become strong," said Erebemlin.

Amroth's eyes glazed.

"Rest. You must rest, " said Taitheneb. Reaching for Amroth's shoulder, he touched his thoughts with peace and hope. "Sleep now."

"There is no time, " Amroth said.

"Sleep, my lord. There will be time enough." Tenderly sweeping aside Amroth's worries and fears, Taitheneb flooded his mind with peace, and to his own surprise, Amroth surrendered. He leaned into Taitheneb's hand, and Taitheneb guided him gently onto the floor of the Talan. His breath quieted. Taitheneb placed a hand on his brow, and waited.

A wide-eyed Erebemlin held his breath, but the king had fallen deep into a dreamless sleep.

Erebemlin gave Taitheneb an exhasperated glance.

Taitheneb returned a wry smile. "Did you never lullabye a child?"

Nethwador refilled his wine glass, and took another cake of raisins, munching contentedly as his master slept.

Last edited by mark12_30; 05-13-2004 at 09:42 AM.
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