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Old 11-12-2003, 02:23 PM   #147
Imladris
Tears of the Phoenix
 
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Tolkien

Maethor

Dusk fell softly upon the three rangers as they entered the woods, and they were soon forced to make camp. It annoyed Maethor that they had to wait until the morn left her light, but he knew that there was no other way. Besides, Dulrain had not slept for several nights, Rauthain looked weary, and Maethor’s body ached as well.

He watched Dulrain dig a fire pit and said, “I’ll find something good for us to eat.“ Creeping into the woods as he looked for something that would make a suitable supper, Maethor thought of the events of the past day. So much had happened, so many secrets had been revealed, and yet there were still riddles to unravel. Naiore herself was the riddle, actually: she was very much like a serpent: cunning, slippery.

Eventually, he came upon a brace of conies with soft mahogany fur, which he killed and skinned. He considered saving and treating the skins, but decided against it, thinking that they would be too much in the way and would too much time. Looking about him, he saw in the dim light a patch of parsley and some sweet green onions. The parsley smelled sweet and, plucking a few leaves, he crushed them between his fingers and he rubbed the green powder generously upon the slippery raw meat of the rabbits. Digging up the onions, admiring the pearly orb that glimmered in the moon’s light, he cut them into small chunks and imbedded them into the rabbit, for flavour.

Making his way back to the fire (which he noted had been made with dry, seasoned wood so that no smoke would betray them), Maethor tossed the rabbits to Rauthain and said with a smile, “If we are to eat in grievous times and are to sleep upon the hard earth with the stones burrowing holes into our backs, we might as well eat as good and tasty a dinner that we can muster.” The ranger had not roamed the outskirts of the Shire for nothing: he had learned quite a few cooking tips from the hobbits he had chanced to encounter.

He watched sympathetically as Dulrain sharpened the sword that had once been Kaldir’s. He wondered vaguely what Naiore had done to him, if she had left physical marks or had made emotional scars. Maybe both. He shuddered at the unpleasant thought.

"I will take first watch, who should I wake first?" Dulrain asked, standing.

“Wake me,” said Maethor quietly.
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Last edited by piosenniel; 03-12-2004 at 03:52 PM.
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