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Old 05-19-2006, 07:35 PM   #316
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.
Before answering Eodwine's question, Farahil seemed to pointedly look at Saeryn, who looked back into Farahil's eyes with an unwavering look. Or stare, more like. Then Farahil looked back at Eodwine.

"I am uncertain how long I will be staying, Lord Eodwine. I do not wish to over-stay my welcome, yet I have business to attend to, both private and less so. I mostly desire to see Linduial. Words may calm fears, yet only sight can put them wholly to rest."

"You are a friend of my house. You cannot overstay your welcome." Eodwine forced his smile to widen. But let me not keep you longer from your sister! I am sure she will be happy to see you." Eodwine turned to Saeryn. "Saeryn." She puller her attention away from the dark and handsome young man. "Please show Lord Farahil to his sister's quarters."

"Yes, lord." They left. Once the door closed behind them, Eodwine huffed a very disturbed sigh, and began whispering to himself. "They are of an age. It is right that they would be interested in each other. She is a beauty, he is a handsome lord with his whole life ahead of him. He represents the future whereas I represent the past, no doubt. Let her go. Let her go. You never had any business following her with such interest in any case. You're too old for her, you silly a*s. Find Kéðra." That stopped him short. Was his wife alive? Was she partnered against her will to a Dunlending who not doubt abused her, fathered his brood on her? Eodwine felt his jaw clenching. More likely she was long dead. His jaw loosened and his throat tightened. Get a hold of yourself, old fool. You have a court to preside over. With that, he checked his face in his new mirror one more time before leaving his room for the Hall, which he had had set up for holding court.

There was already a crowd gathered outside. This would be a long and tiring day. The last thing he needed to do was get himself worked up over a girl half his age who needed a young man, not an old.

He sat in the furlined chair that had been specially made for his Mead Hall. No one had come into the Hall yet. A makeshift firepit had been built in the center, just below the opening in the ceiling. It looked to be a good ceiling. Yes, there were the gifts he had ordered to be brought up, ready to hand as need would arise. He waited, allowing his mind to clear.
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