[Amanaduial the archer]

Arthain sensed the sudden darkening of Melosts mood once more, and saw Thelians glance towards him, saw the elves eyes meet. Melosts moods now seemed as changeable as the weather. He wondered why; Melost always seemed so pleased with life, so happy, so filled with satisfaction. Maybe that was the problem... Elves said of men that they were cowardly, that the strength that ran in their veins was weaker than that of the immortals themselves, but was it possible that they feared death more than men? Men lived short lives compared to the elves, like dragonflys lives to those of men. They knew death would come, after so many years, knew that their bodies would grow old and weak, that their minds would fail and they would return to dust. But elves would never get old, their bodies would remain as youthful as they wishes for generations of men, their minds sharp. They stayed young, the immortal elves, and so, in a way, they would die young when they fell. So even the elves had a fear; the fear of death itself.

Arthain shook himself out of his reverie, returning to the conversation where his young squire had already introduced himself. Dorlas was eager, keen and ready to learn. Aye, and young. Too young for this. Too young for a death on the battlefield...

He inspected the sky critically. The weather was still damp but the rain was still keeping away. He stood with a sigh, but not one too melancholy; he didnt wish for Melost to wonder about his fears. "Come friends, we should get going towards Rivendell while the rain stays away. No doubt we will be leaving soon enough, but maybe not soon enough for Melost; he has even more reason to get there than us, I think, what with the lovely lady waiting for there." He winked at his friend and offered a hand to him. As he was pulled to his feet, Melost pulled back on Arthains hand, making him stumble forward slightly to the laughter of all, including Dorlas. At this, Arthain jumped on Dorlas, getting the boy in a headlock and ruffling his dark hair. For a few moments, it was as if their troubles didnt exist, or their ages or races. Dorlas struggled free of Arthain, joining in the laughter, and good spirits remained with them.

[ March 25, 2003: Message edited by: Amanaduial the archer ]