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Old 07-06-2004, 11:26 AM   #245
piosenniel
Desultory Dwimmerlaik
 
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Aiwendil and Rôg

‘Eh . . . promises . . . nothing really . . .’ The old man tried to divert the question to one of his own. ‘You’re going soon, then? And did I hear correctly, you will then return?’ He looked down and wriggled on his cushion; fumbling with the hem of his robe, he pulled the cloth of the skirt out straight, over his knees and tucked it in more loosely about his lower legs.

Rôg snorted at this all too apparent evasion and tapped him on the arm again. ‘Your promises . . .?’

Aiwendil settled back with a long sigh and seeing the young man following his movements expectantly, he began. ‘The problem of promises began long ago,’ he said as if to himself. ‘It’s the Ladies, isn’t it? The men you can reason with – why you can’t do such and such and so forth. But a Lady - they always seem to get that little hook in somehow and can’t be refused . . . and somehow, in the end, the promise must be kept, though it take years to do so . . .’

Oh, my sand and stars . . . this may turn into such a long answer that I will lose the thread of what I originally wanted to know! Rog leaned forward, intending to pay close attention to what ever twists and turns the old man might make in his telling.

Surprisingly enough, the old fellow recalled himself from his ruminations. Looking at Rôg from beneath lidded eyes he wondered if he had spoken too much of that first promise. He cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter, his eyes now on the young man’s face, and spoke of the request from Ayar . . . the one to help her other daughter, Rama. He made light of it, saying that he had said he would make himself available to help her as she asked.

‘I don’t have the years on me that you do, Aiwendil. But, it seems to me that that is a rather large sort of promise you have made. Given the immediacy of danger to the Eagle Clan and the imminent death of its leader, surely this Rama will need more than just a few words from you if she and her sister are to face the coming struggle with the Wyrm clan.’ Rôg scratched his jawbone thoughtfully. ‘The way I see it, you will be here a very long time and pulled deeper and deeper into the conflict.’ His brow furrowed as he looked at Aiwendil. ‘I’ve seen some of your little tricks and I half think of you as some reluctant magician of sorts. But, no disrespect intended, you seem a little . . . wobbly . . . if you will, at times. And these seem times that require more than wobbliness. Are you certain you should stay here? Perhaps you should come with me . . . it might be safer.’

Aiwendil huffed a little at the assessment of himself as ‘wobbly’. Young upstart! he growled to himself. Why I could show . . . He stopped himself before the words left his mouth, and would be drawn out no further on this subject. He had made his promise and he meant to see it through as needed. ‘I’ll not be going with you,’ he said instead. I’ll be perfectly fine here.’ He eyed the young man from beneath his shaggy eyebrows. ‘And besides, you’re coming back” Isn’t that what I heard you just say?’

‘Yes,' answered Rôg. 'I’m uncertain, though, how long I’ll be away. You could still come with me. Then, we could return together.’ He looked at his friend hopefully.

But Aiwendil only shook his head, his blue eyes glinting though the two companions sat well within the shade.

Last edited by piosenniel; 07-06-2004 at 03:10 PM.
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