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Old 01-20-2005, 09:10 PM   #1
alaklondewen
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Erebemlin

South. Erebemlin could sense the young man’s thought in the South. The red-haired man was at least still alive, and the elf wondered what dark contrivance Tharonwe had for the young man. Something concerned him even more than this however, and that was the bizarre images he came across when he touched on the edge of the man’s thoughts. They were only fleeting, but they piqued his curiosity nonetheless. Erebemlin was unsure how to put them into words as he had not seen such people or things before. Did the man just have a superb imagination?

Aeron flinched, jerking Erebemlin’s attention back to the situation at hand. Apparently, the boy had nodded off and woke with a start.

The monotonous rhythm of the ride allowed the Elf to let his mind wonder once more, but this time it went not to the South and the red-haired man...but North, to a River’s daughter in a cozy cottage. A fire was burning bright within the fireplace, and a warm glow lit the room. A light melody could be heard dancing in the air. The rustling of leaves now drew his attention, and he saw her standing at the door. The winter air was surely cold as it blew around and tossed her hair, yet she wore no cloak and did not trimble. Erebemlin could feel his heart begin to pound, and started to look away, but he heard her voice, so musical and strong, with in his mind. Should your path again cross mine, I would be glad. The cold air that surrounded the party suddenly did not feel so cold to the tall Elf, and he smiled to himself.

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Old 01-21-2005, 09:05 PM   #2
littlemanpoet
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Silmaril Raefindan

"Tell me," said Maigeleb as they trudged through the snow ever southwards, "what is this thing called hypnotism?" The Elf walked ahead of him, as usual.

Raefindan had been aware that the swamp Elf had been sifting through his mind most of the time he had been with him, and it had been so this day as well. There was no use fighting it. He had tried and only became weary and easier prey to deeper probing. Better to be used like an encyclopedia than a psych patient. Raefindan had found that he could view that which the Elf sifted, and in this way had become reacquainted with much that he had forgotten. He knew now who he was, where he came from, and the last thing he remembered from before having arrived before the gates of Minas Tirith ... however that had happened!

"You don't need to ask, you can look in my head and see for yourself."

"Such ire! It does not become you, Roy Edwards."

"I suppose that you would be more friendly to someone who invaded your brain?"

"Invaded, hmm." Roy watched images of invasion file through his mind. "Ah. I see. Please do not think of yourself as my prisoner, Roy Edwards, but as my .... how was it? .... aide. Yes, that was the strange word. My assistant. That was it."

"I'm your captive and you use me as you will."

"You are so .... hmm ... irascible! Such an apt expression. It has the meaning right in the sound of it, does it not?" Roy did not respond. "But about hypnotism. It is not unlike osanwe, except that the one holds the other's will in hand. But surely there must be a better way to bring it into being than having the .... patient, I think you call him, be a willing party. There must be something in osanwe that would make this work."

"So you'v'e given up on the rifle production?"

"I gave thought to it, but I would not murder the land, as your kind have done, and this hypnotism seems so much more ... you have a word for it that seems so appropriate .... elegant. Yes, that is the word. Amost Elvish, it sounds in your barbaric tongue."

Roy shook his head, wondering if there was some way he could get away from this Elf, and if there was some way he could spare Middle Earth of his presence and get back home.

"No, I will not allow it," Maegeleb said. "You are too valuable to me."

There might be another way, Roy thought.

"The moment I am aware that you intend to end your life, I will stop you. So think no more of escape."

Roy sighed and wondered how the others fared.
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Old 01-21-2005, 11:55 PM   #3
Orual
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Ravion

"Can you feel it?" Ravion asked quietly to Erundil, riding behind him.

"Feel...what?" Erundil replied, as though startled from deep thoughts. Ravion glanced behind at the older Ranger, who looked troubled.

"Gwyllion's absence. I know you did not know her well, but can you feel that something is missing?"

"Of course," Erundil said, quickly and surely. He looked at Ravion. "Yes, I feel it. But not as acutely as he." Erundil pointed out.

Ravion followed Erundil's finger to the mount that Erebemlin and Aeron shared. "Oh," he said softly. "Yes."

"Try to help him in the days to come," Erundil said. "You have felt this pain before. For him, it is a new and strange wound, and it hurts all the more for its unfamiliarity."

"I think that Marigold may have helped him," Ravion suggested.

"Yes, but he is still hurting," Erundil said. "You've experienced death. Help him through this."

"You've experienced it, too," Ravion said. He wished that Erundil would drop the subject. He had no help to give Aeron. All of his pain was still inside of him. Aeron would not do well to learn from Ravion.

Erundil said nothing more.

Ravion rode in silence, contemplating Erundil's words. But what had Ravion to teach the poor, grieving boy? To ignore the pain? To try to pretend it never happened? That he had never had a sister in the first place? It would be no favour to the boy to let him swallow the pain and keep it in until he became bitter and hard and icy like Ravion. Until he dreaded sleep because it was the only time when his pain came back to the surface, to haunt his dreams. Until it took so much effort to reach out to Mellonin that he could hardly tell whether or not the tightening in his chest was going to kill him before she answered him...

He looked again at Aeron, and shook his head. Ravion was no expert in the care of grief. He could only pray that the boy would learn to let go.
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Old 01-23-2005, 12:54 AM   #4
mark12_30
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Whiteness, shining, bright, clean, pure. Like her love. She miled, and reached down to trace in the snow with her finger. White crystals gathered on her finger, and she brought it to her mouth with a smile.

She spat. Ash! Bitterness filled her mouth. She stood, indignant, and once again looked round. All around her lay grey ash as far as the eye could see.

Alas for the joy I have lost. Alas for the bitter life I live. Alas for my love. Once, my love, you were kind; long ago. But my life has become bitter. Bitter. My hope lies in ruin; ruin and ash.

She bent down, and wrote in the ash with her finger.
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Old 01-23-2005, 01:06 PM   #5
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Amroth by himself had hardly been a burden; but Amroth had fed Echo with his own fire, and with the departure of his master's friendly thoughts, the fire left him too. As Echo wearied, he lagged; and finally he stumbled, not out of weariness, but carelessness. Ahead of him, the elves with Aeron, and Ravion and Erundil pulled well ahead. Behind him, the riders of Rohan sent Mellondu puzzled glances.

"Send him forward, " called Ædegard. "He has leagues in him yet. Send him on."

Mellondu turned a pleading glance toward the proud rider. "And just how, " he replied, "do I do that?"

Ædegard burst out laughing. Liornung and Bella and Argeleafa looked over, some surprised, Liornung worried; but Mellondu dropped the reins and spread his arms wide, with a good-natured, helpless laugh of his own. "Please, someone have pity on me, and tell me how to make this beast obey?"

Far ahead, the elves and rangers turned in surprise as a loud burst of rohirric laughter glittered over the frozen plains. Moments later, the riders of Rohan had rallied around Echo. Bella took one of Echo's reins; Liornung and Argeleafa rode to Echo's near and off side; and coming up on Echo's flank, Ædegard gave a stern warning, and then the flat of his hand landed, smack, on Echo's rump.

They caught up shortly thereafter. The rohirrim did not stray from Mellondu's side til they made camp; nor did Mellndu care for Echo alone, not that night, nor many nights thereafter.
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Old 01-25-2005, 07:29 PM   #6
littlemanpoet
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Dark-Eye Maegeleb & Raefindan

"You see, Raefindan," said Maegeleb, who still walked ahead of him, "it is not so with Elves as with Men. We do not need the - what is your word? Ah, yes - mechanisms that you need. Once we know how something is done, we can achieve it by the power of our will, especially that which has to do with thought."

"Aren't we special."

"Roy Edwards, I am disappointed. Where is your nobility? Where your sunny disposition, as you call it?"

"I am your slave. They are the only things that could escape to freedom."

"You are not yet my utter slave. But that shall be rectified. Now." Maegeleb turned and faced him. Roy felt his mind invaded. Then nothing.

"You are asleep. Open your eyes. Good. Tell me your name."

"Roy Edwards."

"Where are you from?"

"Erie, Pennsylvania."

"What year is it?"

"Two thousand four."

"Do you know where you are?"

"No. Yes."

"Tell me where you are."

"I am in Anorien of Gondor."

"How did you get here?"

"I don't know."

"Walk in a circle around me." Maegeleb watched as the redheaded man did as he was told. This is good. Very good. Men will be easily turned. Elves, not so. But so many Men against two or three Elves? Maegeleb smiled. And Nimrodel herself? She and her serving maid can be made to believe whatever I wish. His smile widened and his eyes burned with a feral brightness.
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Old 01-29-2005, 09:21 AM   #7
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Nightfall

As they made camp, Ædegard explained much regarding horses and their habits to Mellondu. Ravion cared for Gond, chatting with Erundil, and occasionally speaking with Aeron. Meanwhile Mellonin was left alone with her thoughts, which did not make her happy.

The pair that caught her attention was the Wayfarer lad and the Gondorian lass. Why the Gondorian lass walked with the Rohirrim she did not know, and what interest she found in the young wayfarer puzzled her. She watched them for a while. As they cared for their horses, Bella saw Mellonin staring. Bella smiled, and Mellonin smiled in return.

They joined her when their horses were settled. Mellonin studied the Wayfarer lad, puzzled by his easterling features and his elvish dress. Bella spoke. "You have met Nethwador."

Mellonin nodded. "Hello."

"Mae... Gonvannen?" he replied.

"Sindarin. Very nice. I did not know the Wayfarers spoke our tongue."

"Nay, but the elves have taught him a little, " Bella answered. "Nethwador was taught by the plains and the wild, else."

"I thought the Wayfarers were a tribe, " Mellonin frowned.

"Amroth said he found Nethwador quite alone, but for his horse, " Bella answered.

Mellonin studied Bella next. "I have heard others mention Amroth, but Mellondu will not speak of him, " Mellonin said.

"Oh, if only Mellondu would welcome Amroth back. I do not know what will become of him now, " Bella said.

"Where did he go?" Mellonin asked, puzzled. "Did my brother send him away?"

"Mellon Amroth!" said Nethwador.

"Your pardon?" Mellonin wondered.

"Yes, I am afraid that he did, " Bella replied. "I think your brother was quite angry with Amroth, for your sake. I am not sure that I understand why."

"Wasn't all that talk about the mad blacksmith related to Amroth? But my brother is not mad, as you see; he was merely lost. What did it all mean?"

"Perhaps, " said Bella, "you should sit down."
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