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piosenniel · 06-26-2002, 02:12 AM

A fine sheen of sweat covered the man's face as he stepped onto the deck. The little hobbit had leant him her arm, but the exertion of climbing the steps had taxed his small reserve of strength.

Idril watched him from her seat on deck as he made his way to the railing to view the commotion in the water. She smiled as Primrose rolled a barrel over and pushed it upright so that he could rest on it. She saw Primrose frowning and pointing down to where the hobbits had gone under the water. Mithadan leaned closer to the rail and rested his forearms on it, seeming to take an interest in the goings on below.

'He's doing well, don't you think?' remarked Tuor, coming to stand behind Idril. He placed a hand affectionately on her shoulder.

She reached up to clasp his hand, an old familiar habit. 'I think so,' she said, 'at least physically, he begins to mend. But look how at times his gaze drifts, unfocused, toward the horizon. Then do his eyes darken as if a shadow had passed over the sun, and a certain grief suffuses the features of his face. We must get him back to the Downs and soon. I can help his body heal, but his spirit is beyond my arts.'

06-26-2002, 02:12 AM	#531
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	A fine sheen of sweat covered the man's face as he stepped onto the deck. The little hobbit had leant him her arm, but the exertion of climbing the steps had taxed his small reserve of strength. Idril watched him from her seat on deck as he made his way to the railing to view the commotion in the water. She smiled as Primrose rolled a barrel over and pushed it upright so that he could rest on it. She saw Primrose frowning and pointing down to where the hobbits had gone under the water. Mithadan leaned closer to the rail and rested his forearms on it, seeming to take an interest in the goings on below. 'He's doing well, don't you think?' remarked Tuor, coming to stand behind Idril. He placed a hand affectionately on her shoulder. She reached up to clasp his hand, an old familiar habit. 'I think so,' she said, 'at least physically, he begins to mend. But look how at times his gaze drifts, unfocused, toward the horizon. Then do his eyes darken as if a shadow had passed over the sun, and a certain grief suffuses the features of his face. We must get him back to the Downs and soon. I can help his body heal, but his spirit is beyond my arts.' __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.