RTR2
Disclaimer: Still not mine, stupid orcs!
Author's notes: This is for Osheen. After that lovely review, it would be churlish to do otherwise. Oh, I took away the accents for easier reading. I think you've got the idea after slogging through chapter one. If everyone prefers, I can put them back for atmosphere. Makes me no never mind…
Boromir lay staring at the oaken ceiling beams. The assorted snores and whistles of the older men were scraping on his nerves. He had mistakenly believed he had become immune to the cacophony, but it had rapidly become apparent that he had previously been exhausted enough to sleep through anything. Tonight he was far from exhausted. With a snarl of disgust, Boromir sat up. Since he would find no peace here, he might as well go back down to the common area. If the gods were smiling upon him, Sionnach and Iolair would still be sitting at the trestles drinking stouts.
It was a good thing they were a mostly deaf bunch, Boromir mused as he pulled his trousers on. He did not bother to put any extra effort into silence, and actually stamped his boots to settle them on his feet, just like any other morning. He pulled the white shirt over his head and tucked it in, then buckled his belt over it all. Only a fool wandered without a blade in these times. He wended his way through the snoring throng without one of them waking. The door creaked alarmingly when he opened it, but the councilors slept on. With a soft chuckle, Boromir closed the door behind him and stepped out into the hall.
The sounds of revelry reached his ears the further down the hall he went. It would seem he had not missed the fun entirely. As he descended the stairs, he could just barely discern the sound of a violin under the shouts and laughter. So, they had found a musician from somewhere. Boromir scanned the crowd from his vantage point on the stairs. Surprisingly enough, the violinist was Illyur. Nathron was dancing a complicated reel with Iolair, Sionnach, and Reavinel. It bore a strong resemblance to some of the dances he had seen the hielanders perform during their Harvest Festivals, but much faster. Illyur reached the end of the song in a series of notes, and segued into the same piece with a faster tempo. It took Boromir a moment to realize he was playing the bawdy song called 'Balls to Your Partner'. It had a sprightly tune, and all the squires, his included, had wandered around humming it constantly. At least they had until the chatelaine learned the lyrics. She had not been amused, to say the least, and the tune had been banned.
The four were fairly flying to keep up with the pace Illyur set. Suddenly Reavinel missed a step. The other three kept on, concentrating. Reavinel went back to his seat amid booing and teasing, and took a long draught from his cup. Money changed hands among the watchers, telling Boromir that there was a bet going on. He leaned against the railing and watched to see who would fall next. It didn't take long, on the next pass Iolair stumbled. She laughingly retired to the table and her drink. She shouted something Boromir couldn't make out, but the crowd roared with laughter, so it must have been ribald.
Now it was down to Nathron and Sionnach. Their feet seemed to blur as they whirled and leapt through the passes of the dance. Illyur increased the tempo to an impossible pace, and the two dancers collided. They clung to each other for a moment laughing and gasping for air, then turned to bow to their audience.
Seeing that the show was over, Boromir hurried down the remaining stairs and pushed his way through the crowd to their table.
"Well and look who finally escaped his gaolers!" Iolair shouted with glee. The flush on her face was only partial born of the exertion of the dance. She was obviously drunk, but holding her liquor well.
"I simply allowed them to talk one another to sleep and slipped out under the noise of their collective snoring. I hope I have not come too late to partake of the revelry." Boromir replied with a smile.
"The revelry has barely begun, my lord." Sionnach murmured appreciatively from very close behind him.
"Then let it progress apace, my lovely. Unfortunately the night can not extend its cloak one instant longer than its allotted span, even for such pleasurable events as we pursue." Boromir half turned toward her and gave her a look that let her know he was game for whatever revelry she could devise.
Disclaimer: Still not mine, stupid orcs!
Author's notes: This is for Osheen. After that lovely review, it would be churlish to do otherwise. Oh, I took away the accents for easier reading. I think you've got the idea after slogging through chapter one. If everyone prefers, I can put them back for atmosphere. Makes me no never mind…
Boromir lay staring at the oaken ceiling beams. The assorted snores and whistles of the older men were scraping on his nerves. He had mistakenly believed he had become immune to the cacophony, but it had rapidly become apparent that he had previously been exhausted enough to sleep through anything. Tonight he was far from exhausted. With a snarl of disgust, Boromir sat up. Since he would find no peace here, he might as well go back down to the common area. If the gods were smiling upon him, Sionnach and Iolair would still be sitting at the trestles drinking stouts.
It was a good thing they were a mostly deaf bunch, Boromir mused as he pulled his trousers on. He did not bother to put any extra effort into silence, and actually stamped his boots to settle them on his feet, just like any other morning. He pulled the white shirt over his head and tucked it in, then buckled his belt over it all. Only a fool wandered without a blade in these times. He wended his way through the snoring throng without one of them waking. The door creaked alarmingly when he opened it, but the councilors slept on. With a soft chuckle, Boromir closed the door behind him and stepped out into the hall.
The sounds of revelry reached his ears the further down the hall he went. It would seem he had not missed the fun entirely. As he descended the stairs, he could just barely discern the sound of a violin under the shouts and laughter. So, they had found a musician from somewhere. Boromir scanned the crowd from his vantage point on the stairs. Surprisingly enough, the violinist was Illyur. Nathron was dancing a complicated reel with Iolair, Sionnach, and Reavinel. It bore a strong resemblance to some of the dances he had seen the hielanders perform during their Harvest Festivals, but much faster. Illyur reached the end of the song in a series of notes, and segued into the same piece with a faster tempo. It took Boromir a moment to realize he was playing the bawdy song called 'Balls to Your Partner'. It had a sprightly tune, and all the squires, his included, had wandered around humming it constantly. At least they had until the chatelaine learned the lyrics. She had not been amused, to say the least, and the tune had been banned.
The four were fairly flying to keep up with the pace Illyur set. Suddenly Reavinel missed a step. The other three kept on, concentrating. Reavinel went back to his seat amid booing and teasing, and took a long draught from his cup. Money changed hands among the watchers, telling Boromir that there was a bet going on. He leaned against the railing and watched to see who would fall next. It didn't take long, on the next pass Iolair stumbled. She laughingly retired to the table and her drink. She shouted something Boromir couldn't make out, but the crowd roared with laughter, so it must have been ribald.
Now it was down to Nathron and Sionnach. Their feet seemed to blur as they whirled and leapt through the passes of the dance. Illyur increased the tempo to an impossible pace, and the two dancers collided. They clung to each other for a moment laughing and gasping for air, then turned to bow to their audience.
Seeing that the show was over, Boromir hurried down the remaining stairs and pushed his way through the crowd to their table.
"Well and look who finally escaped his gaolers!" Iolair shouted with glee. The flush on her face was only partial born of the exertion of the dance. She was obviously drunk, but holding her liquor well.
"I simply allowed them to talk one another to sleep and slipped out under the noise of their collective snoring. I hope I have not come too late to partake of the revelry." Boromir replied with a smile.
"The revelry has barely begun, my lord." Sionnach murmured appreciatively from very close behind him.
"Then let it progress apace, my lovely. Unfortunately the night can not extend its cloak one instant longer than its allotted span, even for such pleasurable events as we pursue." Boromir half turned toward her and gave her a look that let her know he was game for whatever revelry she could devise.