Turthôl sat staring into the fire as he listened to the others talk, and then Wren began playing her lute and singing. At that point he turned his attention into the dark. He sat there sharpening his sword, over and over and over, until he started recieving some supsicious glances from the others. The constant shing, shing, shing of the wetstone against the blade rang into the night even as the others started setting up there tents for the night. Tents...he couldn't believe it. They dared set up tents after all the fighting they've been through? Now is the perfect time for an attack, he thought.
Instead, Turthôl slept as he always did-with a ground cloth spread under him and a blanket on top. But he didn't feel like sleep. Instead, he sat there staring into the fire, thinking. Bregand kept watch.
As the fire died down to cold embers, he stared up into the stars, thinking of the elves and Valinor, and how he couldn't pass into the Undying Lands. That possibility was denied to even the Dúnedain, the ancestors of the Númenoreans. He then thought of the sea. He had never seen it himself but a vision of it filled his mind. Without thinking, he started singing a song that he had learned long ago, in Imladris. He began softly-
Ai! laurië lantar lassi súrinen,
yéni únótimë ve rámar aldaron!
Yéni ve lintë yuldar avánier
mi oromardi lisse-miruvóreva
Andúnë pella, Vardo tellumar
nu luini yassen tintilar i eleni
ómaryo airetári-lírinen.
Sí man i yulma nin enquantuva?
An sí Tuntallë Varda Oiolossëo
ve fanyar máryat Elentári ortanë,
ar ilyë tier undulávë lumbulë;
ar sindanóriello caita mornië
i falmalinnar imbë met, ar hísië
untúpa Calaciryo míri oialë.
Sí vanwa ná, Rómello vanwa, Valimar!
Namárië! Nai hiruvalyë Valimar.
Nai elyë hiruva. Namárië!
He finished and sighed. Behind him he heard footsteps.
"I didn't know you could speak elvish," Bregand said.
"There's a lot you don't know, Bregand," Turthôl replied somberly.
"What was it about?" Bregand asked.
"It is about Valinor and Varda, whom the elves call Elbereth," Turthôl said. He looked again up towards the sky. It was clear.
"oh," Bregand nodded. The boy stood there for a moment with nothing to say. Turthôl looked at him.
"Do you think I'm crazy?" he asked.
"Well..." Bregand wasn't so sure on how to answer. "The others..."
"Never mind. I just wanted to see what you thought, not what Wren and Enien and Tareth thought. Bregand, the best evidence to base judgment on is your own experience. Remember that." Turthôl said.
Bregand nodded again. He leaned on his sword wearily, and stared into the dying coals.
"I may seem cold-blooded and brutal. Thats because of my experiences. Its gotten me this far and its gotten the company this far."
"Yes, I see what you mean, Turthôl." Bregand turned to go patrol the area.
"Oh, Bregand." Turthôl called out.
"Yes?" he answered.
"Go to sleep. I'll take watch."
As Bregand headed towards his bed, Turthôl sat there, thinking some more. He wasn't going to bother to wake anyone else up for the next watch. He'd do the whole night. Well, whatever the others thought about him, he hoped it didn't get anybody killed. He took out his sword and began to sharpen it some more. The sching, sching, sching sound was the only thing that could be heard. It lasted until morning.
[ May 31, 2003: Message edited by: Earendil Halfelven ]
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In nomini domine saboath sui filique ite ad infernos.
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