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Old 12-16-2008, 01:56 AM   #11
Arry
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
 
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Join Date: Jan 2004
Posts: 704
Arry has just left Hobbiton.
Vitr had stepped back as Nali spoke with Kénan. He wondered what passed between the two elders, but it was none of his business, or he would have been included. Something to do with Lord Balin perhaps, he thought . . . that, and what would happen now. He would have to trust that wiser heads would figure out what needed to be done, and the how and who of it, too. He’d gladly lend his services where they were best deemed needed when the plan was laid in place, but for now his own plan was to see to the well-being of his wife and children.

As he turned to head toward home, he saw Kénan leave Nali and head across the hall. ‘Ah, good,’ Vitr commented to no one in particular. ‘It looks as if he’s found his grandchildren.’ Despite the pervasive gravity, the seriousness of the present situation, Vitr found a smile begin to play about the corners of his mouth. Grandchildren! What would that be like? he wondered. ‘Old fool!’ he chided himself. ‘Here your children are but young pups . . . and you’re already planning to dandle their children on your knee!’

He left the chamber, making his way across the hall where so shortly before the atmosphere had been one of celebration. Now the shadows that the bright lamps had pushed back so recently seemed to overwhelm the light. Vitr hunched his shoulders against the oppressive feeling and hurried on.

A trio of voices pulled him from his gloomy thoughts. There, by the kegs . . . Nali, again, and Kórin, and Kór. How curious. Busy man, that Nali. Kórin looked a bit worse for the wear, Vitr thought. Angry, too, at whatever Nali had said to her.

‘My Lord is dead,’ Vitr muttered, shaking his head as he passed beyond the little tableau. ‘And everything is at sixes and sevens!’

-o-

His heart began to lighten as he neared home. He frowned, surprised and somewhat disconcerted that the door was barred. ‘Lys! It’s me!’ he called, rapping on the thick wood panels. ‘Unbar the door, won’t you?’
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