The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum - View Single Post - The Green Dragon Inn #11

Lhundulinwen · 05-28-2004, 03:32 PM

Lalanie knew that she was going to get drunk if she didn’t stop on this pint, and she’d feel it the next morning. She may be able to stay in the Shire for a little while, but no longer than a week or two, or she wouldn’t have time to make it back to Rivendell, and from there winding through small villages and towns back to Gondor.

She let the hood fall back. Her brown hair looked odd, she knew, with her pointy ears and hazel eyes on such a medium height, slightly stocky, frame. Her ancestry was, politely put, slightly odd. Only a drop of elven blood wound through her veins, from somewhere in the very distant past, somewhere in the forgotten elderdays, but she had inherited the trademark ears. She never met her parents, but that had never bothered her. Why should it? She thought to herself. Her father had died in battle as knight of Gondor, shortly after her mother had died giving birth to her in Rivendell. Her first, most found years, were spent at Rivendell. She was taught with the other boys since there were few girls her own age at that time there. She had learned sword play and how to use a bow and arrow. Of course, she was forced to learn how to sew, and the ‘womanly arts’ too. She was happy at Rivendell, even if she did have to sew.

But when she was about twelve, her father’s family had decided that she shouldn’t be raised in “the wilderness,” so they took her to Gondor. But they weren’t exactly the kind of people who liked children. Whatever the reason, she was sent to The House of Healing to be raised there. She hated it. Lalanie was never the gentle type; but working there she learned some gentleness. But soon she missed her friends and being able to just run. Or maybe it was the ugly dresses; then again, it was probably the simple reason that she felt like she couldn't be herself.

Lalanie sighed. She picked up her small satchel and her green dusty cloak and went to get a room for the night, ignoring any eyes that happened to follow her. No one moved to follow, but just in case, Lalanie fingered her curved blade under the cloak.

05-28-2004, 03:32 PM	#188
Lhundulinwen Wight Join Date: Jan 2004 Location: Wishin' and hopin' in the Shire Posts: 139	Lalanie knew that she was going to get drunk if she didn’t stop on this pint, and she’d feel it the next morning. She may be able to stay in the Shire for a little while, but no longer than a week or two, or she wouldn’t have time to make it back to Rivendell, and from there winding through small villages and towns back to Gondor. She let the hood fall back. Her brown hair looked odd, she knew, with her pointy ears and hazel eyes on such a medium height, slightly stocky, frame. Her ancestry was, politely put, slightly odd. Only a drop of elven blood wound through her veins, from somewhere in the very distant past, somewhere in the forgotten elderdays, but she had inherited the trademark ears. She never met her parents, but that had never bothered her. Why should it? She thought to herself. Her father had died in battle as knight of Gondor, shortly after her mother had died giving birth to her in Rivendell. Her first, most found years, were spent at Rivendell. She was taught with the other boys since there were few girls her own age at that time there. She had learned sword play and how to use a bow and arrow. Of course, she was forced to learn how to sew, and the ‘womanly arts’ too. She was happy at Rivendell, even if she did have to sew. But when she was about twelve, her father’s family had decided that she shouldn’t be raised in “the wilderness,” so they took her to Gondor. But they weren’t exactly the kind of people who liked children. Whatever the reason, she was sent to The House of Healing to be raised there. She hated it. Lalanie was never the gentle type; but working there she learned some gentleness. But soon she missed her friends and being able to just run. Or maybe it was the ugly dresses; then again, it was probably the simple reason that she felt like she couldn't be herself. Lalanie sighed. She picked up her small satchel and her green dusty cloak and went to get a room for the night, ignoring any eyes that happened to follow her. No one moved to follow, but just in case, Lalanie fingered her curved blade under the cloak.