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Old 09-11-2003, 05:15 AM   #35
Shade of Carn Dûm
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Join Date: Apr 2003
Location: Kalrienmar
Posts: 402
Elora has just left Hobbiton.


This will take all day! Vanwe sighed as she opened the latest in a growing tally of dusty boxes and found some clothing. A creamy linen blouse greeted her as she peered in, the fabric fine in comparison to her own rough clothing. She closed that box and moved onto the next.

Bent over the container with her back to the door, the sudden sound of Fimbriel's voice surprised Vanwe.

"Oh! You're here..." the Innkeeper said, a frown of vague confusion furrowing her brow. Vanwe, feeling very like she had been found in a place she should not be, started to explain as quickly as she could.

"Cook asked for the extra pots last night and I have not yet fetched them for her," she said. The sound of running came to her from further down the hall, and a door opened and closed. Fimbriel glanced over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of Maethor as he darted into a room.

"Rangers..... the pots are over there," she replied, pointing to the far corner. It would have indeed taken Vanwe all day to find what she was looking for.

"Devorin told me that you had taken Déor," Fimbriel said absently, gaze falling on the series of boxes that Vanwe had been inspecting. "Have you found anything interesting," she asked, eyeing Vanwe closely.

Vanwe shook her head energetically. "I've not taken anything, I swear it!" She nearly tripped over her own words in her enthusiasm. Fimbriel waved her respone airly aside.

"Well you should have. It's an outrage that Devorin hasn't seen to this sooner, but then he is a Man and knows nothing of how difficult it is to do yard and stable work in skirts." As Fimbriel had spoken she had crossed room to a nearby box.

"Somewhere around here, if my memory serves, is a solution that that.... Ah, here it is!" She prised open the box and started removing the clothing Vanwe had seen before. She first picked up the shirt and held it against Vanwe, appraising with a critical eye.

"As I thought.... looked Elvish to me when I packed it away last summer. Take this too, and this, Vanwe? Hold out your arms!" Vanwe did as she was told, mystified at first and then thoroughly perturbed at what was happening. Fimbriel continued to speak as she added the last items.

"Disgraceful, having you walk about in a dress that looks like it would distintergrate on a puff of breeze. Why, you must have patched that at least six times! And all the while there is clothing here, gathering dust!"

Vaanwe almost disappeared behind a cloak and a gown of deep red. When Fimbriel rearraged the clothing, she saw the Elf's alarmed mien. "Whatever is wrong, Vanwe!"

"I can't wear this! I only have 3 coppers!" Never mind that what she was wearing had been stolen. Her cheeks were flushed with shame. Fimbriel's kind face took on a stern authority.

"You can and you will. Now, go change and bring that old dress of yours down with the pots. If it survives another washing, we can use it for rags." Fimbriel fixed Vanwe with a close glance and let it rest until she reluctantly nodded. Satisfied, Fimbriel turned and headed back for the kitchens.

"I've a good mind to straighten Devorin's manners for not seeing to this sooner. His own assistant, for love of Rohan!" The innkeeper shook her head and left Vanwe to consider the impending disaster. These clothes were not for her. They were far too fine for one of her station. And Fimbriel had given her breeches! Breeches! Vanwe had learnt that woman are never to wear men's clothing. If they found her, they'd beat her to within an inch of her life for that alone!

Her heart sank a little as she picked up the pots. With the inappropriate clothing that was not hers draped over the top, she returned to Lespheria's room, left the pots by the door and fitted the key to the lock.

It was not right, but she was caught. Disobey Harad or Fimbriel.... a disgrace, she had said. Vanwe peered in the mirror at herself. Yes, it was definately Elvish gear, the short tunic breeches of green suede finely embroidered. Vanwe belted her distinctly mannish belt back on and pulled on her similiarly mannish boots. She barely recognised herself. For starters, the clothing fit far better than her dress had.

Vanwe picked the worn garment up from the floor with a sigh. She needed to somehow find a way out of this clothing before her only other option was shredded to rags. She needed to speak with Hanasian somehow, dangerous as that might be. She needed to stay out of Kaldir's reach and in the midst of all this, aid Devorin with the horses. Something seemed afoot there.

Why would she have taken Déor? Stealing clothing was one thing, thieving horses was quite another. She flicked her hair back over her shoulder and felt faintly absurd as the full drape of her shirt sleeve moved with her. Stealing clothes was indeed bad enough. This day was not going to be an easy one for a whole host of reasons.

Last edited by piosenniel; 05-11-2006 at 10:40 AM.
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