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Old 07-17-2006, 05:55 AM   #85
Novnarwen
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
 
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Aedhild

Aedhild had no recollections of having moved to this particular spot. Tilting her head, she frowned, trying to extract a memory of the last thing she had done. "The devil knows who has moved me," she muttered under her breath. Closing her eyes, she tried envisioning how she had come to sand here, surrounded by the other slaves. They were talking, "the heavens knows only about what," some more aggressively than others. In the darkness, she couldn't clearly distinguish their features, nor was she able to recognise anyone she knew. She had fallen to the ground. She remembered now. She had heard shouting, "the heavens knows ..." she repeated, slightly irritated. It didn't explain however why she was here, among strangers, not asleep with feet aching as if she had run a hundred miles.

Nearby, the one-armed man had settled in the grass. She eyed him suspiciously. "Do you know what they are quarrelling about? she asked, approaching with light steps.

At first he didn't answer, just raised his eyebrow as if in surprise. Then, after a few moments, he erupted with laughter. Several moments went by, before he was able to control himself, and only then did Aedhild realise what had happened.

"Young man," she said sternly. "you laugh mockingly at an old woman!” she said horrified, still seeing the tendency of a faint smile on his lips.

“Did you mother never teach you ---” voice cracking, her anger grew, “respect?” she continued hotly, trying to resume her lost dignity. Her body shook with anger. The urge to give this youngster a serious beating, to teach him a lesson, seemed overwhelmingly tempting, but she managed to restrain herself. Even in this darkness, anyone could see that the otherwise ghostly white pallor of her face had been replaced by gloriously red; her cheeks seemed to burn under the cool, night sky. Taking a step closer, her mouth trembling, she straightened; her relatively small figure seeming to double in size as she did so.

Though, Aedhild did not possess any significant charismatic skills to intimidate her victims, she did seem to know how to make her fragile figure seem more frightening. Whether she straightened her back in these kinds of situations intentionally or not, no one would know, but it did seem to have an effect on the person she faced; in doing so, it seemed that she possessed an authority that only women her age can have; not even her wild appearance, which bordered to the humorous, could stop her from seizing this authority when she took a completely straight posture. However, knowing about her condition, what many slaves now dared call ‘madness', the others didn't take her seriously, and the authority she supposedly gained by this little trick had at least weakened if not completely been put to ruin.

“Shh! Take your anger elsewhere, woman,” the Southron replied at last, casting a last gaze upon her skinny figure body.

Gasping, Aedhild pointed her finger at him. This… this scoundrel of a man… disrespectful creature… Her body seemed to explode with the anger and tension she had tried suppressing. “You! You child of Mordor!” she screamed, but her words hardly escaped her lips before her all of the muscles in her body seemed to relax – at once. Dropping to the ground, hitting the wet grass, Aedhild lay motionless, her eyes wide open.
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