[Tinuviel of Denton]

Reyn wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, thinking back over the words that had passed between himself, Gilbereth, and Ihwesta. Unfeeling? Aye, I suppose I sounded it at that. I didn’t mean to. Maybe if I cut out my tongue it wouldn’t get me into so much trouble, he thought wryly. It seemed that whenever he said something that wasn’t meant to be sarcastic or cruel, it came out that way through habit, which he’d originally developed as a defense against the verbal barbs of his father. Now, it was just a habitual mode of speech, one which he had not had occasion to break until, well, until now.

He looked around at the others in their fellowship. Gilbereth was probably still mad at him, he supposed, not that he blamed him. Reyn’s tongue had earned him more enemies, or at least made him some ‘unfriends’ if they weren’t precisely enemies, than had his temper, though that was considerable. He tried to think of a way to make up with the younger elf, but couldn’t think of any way to approach him without appearing to look down on him, which after all would make the whole point of approaching him moot. This was not going to be easy.

He thought back on the attack in which they’d lost Airelome. It was horrible, dying that way, without even a decent burial. That was after all why he’d left his flet to begin with, though now, being alone in his flet was looking more and more attractive, spiders or no spiders. N.asty things. It made him furious to think of them climbing all over the platform he’d built with such care, but that was probably what they were doing, if they were in that area. Even, he shuddered, nesting in it, for it was just the sort of thing a house-spider would like, if the house-spider just happened to be larger than a horse, anyway.

Something else about that attack bothered him. It seemed too coincidental that the spiders should be there, just when the elves found signs of orcs. And indeed, hadn’t there been orcs among the foes? He couldn’t quite remember, having been rather busy at the time. He did recall seeing more than one two-legged corpse, though the elves had only lost Airelome. Orcs then. Well, that was one more reason to make up with Gilbereth. It would be very bad to be fighting at each others backs and be angry with each other. That sort of thing had led to more defeats than the enemies. At least, so said Reynion’s father.

Dash it all, thought Reyn. I keep coming back to the need to make up with that fop, and I can’t for the life of me imagine how. I suppose I’ll have to do something nice for him, but what can I do for him out here in the forest? I can’t exactly buy him a new outfit. Well, surely someone had a spare bow, and Gilbereth hadn’t one, not that Reyn had seen anyway. And surely…hello, what was this?

“—and he’d managed to blind the thing until I arrived and helped him with it. Clever way to use a rapier—”

So, Gilbereth had used his sword on a spider, unless there was some other male elf with a rapier about. Well, that took a great deal of bravery, if it wasn’t very sensible. Though what else Gilbereth could do without a bow or throwing knives, neither of which did Gilbereth have, as far as Reyn could tell, was rather a short list; throw rocks, and…throw rocks, and he could…throw rocks. Too short a list.

So, tomorrow he’d offer to teach Gilbereth the bow. Now, he could really rest, though perhaps not sleep.