[Estelyn Telcontar]

Lord Halfullion Gormlessar seethed inwardly as he rode beside Earnur Etceteron, behind Merisuwyniel! Chrysophylax was walking abreast Falafel, with Kuruharan mounted on him. As much as it irked Halfullion to be relegated to second place, he dared not attempt to push the dragon aside, fearing his fiery temper. Yet while seemingly engaged in light bantering with his heroic companion, he fumed secretly. How could his Meri prefer the company of this nondescript dwarf to him – him, the peerless perfection of physical prowess, the avatar of attractiveness, the well of wisdom, the fëa of fearlessness…?

He was so preoccupied with his jealous thoughts that he failed to observe what was actually happening in front of him. Merisuwyniel was not speaking with the dwarf at all, but was engaged in animated conversation with Chrysophylax. Dragons have always had a special fondness for beautiful young maidens, and this one was no exception. Furthermore, she reminded him vaguely of a princess he had once met at a birthday party long ago. She had touched a soft spot in his heart that had since remained untouched.

The dragon, anxious to improve Merisuwyniel’s opinion of him, was telling her the most amusing stories of his adventures. She laughed, a melodious, rippling sound that infected all (except the still sullen Halfullion) with her high spirits. Nonetheless, she did not neglect to keep a watchful eye (two, as often as she could spare them) on her travelling companions. When the wizard was unceremoniously deposited on the ground by the recalcitrant donkey, she called the company to a halt.

“This wise beast knows that we have reached a point where we must decide how to proceed on our way,” she announced. “Either we travel south, to the Rohan Interstate Junction, or we cross the mountains by means of the Canthardlee Pass.”

“There is another way,” Halfullion reminded her, eager to reclaim his role in her decision making.

“Do not speak of that dark and secret path,” she said, as a shadow crossed her face. “I would not use it unless no other way is open to us. Let us rather take council to determine the further route of our journey.”

“I say we should travel by way of the Rohan Interstate,” Orogarn Two stated. “It is farther, yet we can travel more quickly, at least if that confounded donkey can keep up with us.” He stretched his long, well-muscled legs ostentatiously.

“There will be more travellers there as well,” added Kuruharan. “That will give me the opportunity - I mean, that will ensure our safety, which is in numbers, as we all know.”

“I say,” Earnur chipped in, “I have heard of some wonderful sport to be had on snowy mountains. Shouldn’t we try that?”

“What do you mean?” Halfullion asked.

“Well, you climb the mountain, then lay your shield on the snow, stand on it and slide back down. Sounds like jolly good fun!” Carried away by his enthusiasm, he abandoned the lofty expression that was his usual way of speaking.

“But what’s the sense in climbing up the mountain if you just come back down again?” Pimpi had no knowledge of the paths in the wilderness, but she did possess a good deal of common sense.

“Ah, the pristine whiteness of lofty, snow-bedecked peaks!” exclaimed Vogonwë, who was fortunately accustomed to being ignored, since no one took the least notice of his poetic effusion.

Suddenly Pettygast spoke up, startling them all, as they had forgotten him in the mean time. “Let the Bow-Bearer decide!”

“Um, I, well…” Vogonwë mumbled, startled from his poetic reverie.

“Bow-Bearer, not Bow-Wearer, darling,” Pimpiowyn admonished, patting him on the arm soothingly. He fell silent immediately, relieved to be rid of an unwelcome responsibility.

Merisuwyniel answered slowly. “I know that haste is needed, yet I cannot choose. Give me an hour longer, and I will speak. Let me be alone!”

All eyes watched her as she disappeared among the trees, then they turned back to discuss the possibility of cooking a meal within that hour. After a time, when they wanted to light the fire that had been laid, Kuruharan looked around and asked, “Where is Chrysophylax?” They searched everywhere and discovered that the dragon, who had at first been lying silent on the outside of the circle, was no longer there.

“He must be off hunting,” Orogarn Two suggested. “But how shall we eat if he does not light our fire?”

The flapping of wings from above alerted them all to scatter as the dragon landed. There was Merisuwyniel, sitting gracefully on his back! “Chrysophylax has consented to fly southwards with me so that I may see how the traffic is on the Interstate,” she announced. “Then I can make my decision wisely.” With those words, they lifted up again, the dragon breathing a playful flame that conveniently lighted the fire.

Over fields, woods and meadows they flew, the landscape spread out beneath them as a tapestry. The cool breeze flowed through Merisuwyniel’s tresses, yet the warmth of the dragon kept all discomforting coldness from her.

Such was the speed of the dragon that they reached the Rohan Interstate Junction before the sun had travelled far on its journey toward the horizon. It was well that Chrysophylax flew high enough to be out of reach of any weapons, for the Junction was full of orc troops. Merisuwyniel could distinguish various kinds with her sharp eyes, and she realized that there were far too many for their small company to combat, despite the renown of the heroes and their swords. Not that they could not be conquered, but it would take so much time!

Her decision made, she let Chrysophylax turn and fly back northwards. Her renewed enjoyment of the scenery below did not distract her attentive eyes, and when she spied a troop of fifty orcs also headed northwards, she was prepared for the dragon’s swoop. In an instant her bow was fitted with an arrow, aimed and loosened. It flew, strong and true, felling the leader of the troop. More arrows followed, causing consternation among the foes and flying with such power that they often passed through one orc and dealt a second the same fate. The Bow sang with the joy of death, and every arrow met its mark. Soon there was no longer any movement to be seen, and Chrysophylax landed to enable Merisuwyniel to recover her arrows.

With only a becoming flush of her cheeks to show for the effort, the Elf continued the flight back without further delay. She rejoined her companions just in time for a morsel of the meal which they had not yet consumed and told them of her discovery. With determination in their hearts and stew in their stomachs, they settled down for the last night before ascending the mountain.

[ January 21, 2003: Message edited by: Estelyn Telcontar ]