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piosenniel · 02-03-2003, 02:37 PM

Mithadan’s Post

In the wilds of Enedwaith, a lone horseman rode along the remains of the Old South Road. One more day's riding, perhaps two, and he would reach Tharbad and the crossing of Greyflood, at which point his journey would be more than two thirds over.

He rode over a plain covered with tall grasses and low shrubs at a fair clip. Even now, after the King had returned, there were yet rumours of bandits in these lands and not far to the east lay Dunland, whose people had no great love of Gondor despite the peace treaty that had been signed some years ago.

He felt a tickle in his mind which resolved itself into a familiar touch. "Piosenniel," he murmured under his breath, and he reined his horse in to a slow trot. Then he concentrated and strained to hear the not-voice from miles away.

Where are you now? We miss you greatly. I fear you will not recognize me when you see me. Your son and daughter grow apace, and I sail slowly through the hours like some great merchant ship laden with treasures. Were you to place me side by side with the Star, I think I might overshadow her! She is a trim vessel, and I am not these days. She placed an image in his mind of a great lumbering vessel coming into port. Then he felt a faint kiss brushing his brow. Ride hard, beloved. I would see you soon.

He laughed at the image of the great ship and smiled at the faint kiss. He attempted to respond but found that he could not concentrate well enough on horseback. He almost stopped there, on the faint track which would soon become a roadway leading north and west. But he took note of the smoke of a cooking fire not far off to his left and rode a few hours more before finding a forest where he might spend the evening undetected. After quickly making camp, he sat with his back to an oak tree and cleared his mind.

Dearest, I come as quickly as I may. Yet though I do not wish to, at least my steed must rest from time to time. Tharbad is not far off. From there it is perhaps ten days to the Shire, or so I am told for I have never visited that land. Soon, beloved, soon. Then you may regale me with tales of the kicks which my children have delivered at inopportune times and your imaginings of Cami. Soon.

[ February 27, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

02-03-2003, 02:37 PM	#14
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Mithadan’s Post In the wilds of Enedwaith, a lone horseman rode along the remains of the Old South Road. One more day's riding, perhaps two, and he would reach Tharbad and the crossing of Greyflood, at which point his journey would be more than two thirds over. He rode over a plain covered with tall grasses and low shrubs at a fair clip. Even now, after the King had returned, there were yet rumours of bandits in these lands and not far to the east lay Dunland, whose people had no great love of Gondor despite the peace treaty that had been signed some years ago. He felt a tickle in his mind which resolved itself into a familiar touch. "Piosenniel," he murmured under his breath, and he reined his horse in to a slow trot. Then he concentrated and strained to hear the not-voice from miles away. Where are you now? We miss you greatly. I fear you will not recognize me when you see me. Your son and daughter grow apace, and I sail slowly through the hours like some great merchant ship laden with treasures. Were you to place me side by side with the Star, I think I might overshadow her! She is a trim vessel, and I am not these days. She placed an image in his mind of a great lumbering vessel coming into port. Then he felt a faint kiss brushing his brow. Ride hard, beloved. I would see you soon. He laughed at the image of the great ship and smiled at the faint kiss. He attempted to respond but found that he could not concentrate well enough on horseback. He almost stopped there, on the faint track which would soon become a roadway leading north and west. But he took note of the smoke of a cooking fire not far off to his left and rode a few hours more before finding a forest where he might spend the evening undetected. After quickly making camp, he sat with his back to an oak tree and cleared his mind. Dearest, I come as quickly as I may. Yet though I do not wish to, at least my steed must rest from time to time. Tharbad is not far off. From there it is perhaps ten days to the Shire, or so I am told for I have never visited that land. Soon, beloved, soon. Then you may regale me with tales of the kicks which my children have delivered at inopportune times and your imaginings of Cami. Soon. [ February 27, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.