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Nilpaurion Felagund · 01-26-2005, 08:37 PM

During the King’s speech, the Noldo was silent. But in her mind, Bethiril decided that the time for action has come.

After the King had finished his address, she looked for her fellow emissary. She found Erenor in one of the armouries, whetting her blade. Bethiril almost faltered at the sight of the weapon, but she gained composure and moved on to her task.

“We must do something. If the Men of Fornost persist in daring the elements, they will only open the doors of Mandos wider for them.”

“That I know. Did you not read my thoughts then, when we were gathered at the passage of the North Gate?”

“I did, but I deemed it then that the time was not proper. Yet now, we are in a place of safety, if any place will ever be safe from the grasp of the Witch-King, and we will find no better place and time to avert the doom of Arnor.”

Erenor sheathed her sword, then stood to her feet. “Will you not help me with this task? You have more experience in this than I have.”

Bethiril was silent. Her eyes were transfixed by the dull gleam of the scabbard hanging on Erenor’s right hand. It still doesn’t make sense. She of all people should understand: emissaries should aim to rid Middle-earth of the blood-thirsty metals and their wielders, not carry one themselves. Erenor perceived her mind, and hid the sword under her robes. “Arnor must survive this onslaught. I am willing to set aside our differences to achieve our goals. Will you not do the same?”

Bethiril raised her eyes, and stared at the Elf before her. They said that Erenor was a woman unsentimental. Who is this then before me? She spoke: “You know that you have more authority in this place than I have. I was sent for a purpose now bereft of meaning. Let us hope your errand falls not to the same doom.”

“Let us go then,” and summoning Angóre the two emissaries trod the paths to the king’s chambers.

01-26-2005, 08:37 PM	#43
Nilpaurion Felagund Scion of The Faithful Join Date: Apr 2003 Location: The brink, where hope and despair are akin. [The Philippines] Posts: 5,312	Bethiril During the King’s speech, the Noldo was silent. But in her mind, Bethiril decided that the time for action has come. After the King had finished his address, she looked for her fellow emissary. She found Erenor in one of the armouries, whetting her blade. Bethiril almost faltered at the sight of the weapon, but she gained composure and moved on to her task. “We must do something. If the Men of Fornost persist in daring the elements, they will only open the doors of Mandos wider for them.” “That I know. Did you not read my thoughts then, when we were gathered at the passage of the North Gate?” “I did, but I deemed it then that the time was not proper. Yet now, we are in a place of safety, if any place will ever be safe from the grasp of the Witch-King, and we will find no better place and time to avert the doom of Arnor.” Erenor sheathed her sword, then stood to her feet. “Will you not help me with this task? You have more experience in this than I have.” Bethiril was silent. Her eyes were transfixed by the dull gleam of the scabbard hanging on Erenor’s right hand. It still doesn’t make sense. She of all people should understand: emissaries should aim to rid Middle-earth of the blood-thirsty metals and their wielders, not carry one themselves. Erenor perceived her mind, and hid the sword under her robes. “Arnor must survive this onslaught. I am willing to set aside our differences to achieve our goals. Will you not do the same?” Bethiril raised her eyes, and stared at the Elf before her. They said that Erenor was a woman unsentimental. Who is this then before me? She spoke: “You know that you have more authority in this place than I have. I was sent for a purpose now bereft of meaning. Let us hope your errand falls not to the same doom.” “Let us go then,” and summoning Angóre the two emissaries trod the paths to the king’s chambers. Last edited by piosenniel; 06-19-2005 at 01:52 PM.