Disclaimer and such can be found in Prologue.
Notes: As for the ever-so-helpful Anonymous reviewers - thank you, I /do/ know such information, but I've cared in this story to take certain.. artistic liberties, shall we say? Yes. Go back to the summary. Look at the first two letters. It's an AU. This means Alternate Universe, and it means that some things are rather Out-Of-Cannon. You don't like it? You can click that 'back' button just as well as read this story. ^^
Notes2: If anything is out of place with Rohan, /please/ review and tell me. The loss-of-immortality-by-a-full-elf was intentional (as is the Choosing of Horses of Old), but I rather like *constructive* critism. :)
--
Legolas steered Nientwil through the fields at a light canter. A group of roughened Rohan riders made him look resplendant with his fine golden hair and light features, and the brown and green attire of Mirkwood. Despite all of his conflicts with his sire, the elf was fiercely loyal to the lands that would, hopefully, someday be his; however, it was evident that the young man was shaken, despite how well he looked - his entire mannerisms were shaken, though proud. He had already been in the custody of Rohanian men for a week, now, and was getting used to the ways they spoke, acted, and thought. With a longsuffering sigh, he watched as yet another rider joined the pack of riders.
|Hail,| called Priynel. |Who comes?|
|Sanel, rider of the Mark, loyal to the king.|
|Then place yourself among your ranks - we shall break for the night soon.|
|We shall, shall we?| teased the captain of the band - a tall, lean man who went by the name of Eqil.
|Yes, we shall,| Riyn replied stiffly. |And you should not bother yourself with finding a location.. over there will do.| A long-fingered hand was gestured over at a flat expanse of plains.
So, they broke formation, set up camp, and had a lively fire going before the sun set - but just barely. The scouts brought back a brace of hare and a small hart, and along with vegetables they stored in saddlebags, ate the traditional plains-dinner of Rohan.
Legolas was unaccustomed to this type of dinner - long, twisted pieces of metal were produced, and meat and vegetables were speared on the skewers and roasted in the fire.
However, with travelling bread and fresh water, it made a filling and enjoyable meal - and Priynel would never admit it, but she enjoyed the sheer fun of alternating meat and different vegetables, and roasting them.
Over the roasting, the riders began to speak of their favorite topic: which horse was the best of the land.
Priynel was the first to swiftly observe that Legolas's mount, considered the best of Mirkwood, was beautiful and strong enough to easily beat any Rohan mount.
|If you wish to be ignorant and blindsighted, be sure to continue that thought,| a glib tongue riprosted. |It would be Zephyr.|
|Or Wyrd,| the late arrival announced, giving a nod towards Eqil's strong bay mount.
|I fear that Wyrd is strong of body and even stronger of heart, but couldn't hold a hoof to Zephyr,| Eqil confessed. |And now that Zephyr has chosen his Rider...|
'What's so good with this Zephyr creature?' Legolas finally interrupted, blue eyes bright as they shifted about, landing finally on the azure eyes of Eqil.
Eqil gave a hearty chuckle at the elvish words - for he knew, as they all did, that Legolas could understand them quite well, but couldn't speak a lick of Rohan. 'Zephyr is the greatest that this land has ever seen. He has proved himself wild, however - running wild races with the best of Rohan as of old, beating them handily, but also untamable to those who cannot commune with animals. I am sure that you or the elvish beauty you travel with could have riden him, but he has now chosen his Rider and will not let anyone but the one he Chose ride.'
Priynel, unnerved by being called beautiful, inched forwards. |I thought that Rohan's horses were no different than any others? What of this choosing you speak of, Captain?|
|The horses of old Chose their mounts... for they could speak to those who were so inclined to listen. Zephyr's dam was the last of the mounts of old, and he was destined to be the king's mount. However, the king could not tame him - not the best rider among us could even throw a blanket over that wild back. He is a grand looking horse, and speaks infrequently... however, he recently crossed the path of his current rider, and Chose him on the spot.|
The conversation continued, now arguing between the merits of Mithril - the name the Rohan's had bestowed Nientwil at the sight of her whitesilver coat - and Wyrd.
However, Legolas was wrapped up in the story of Zephyr, his worn mind latching onto the child's fairy-tail of innocence and wild love for the single person that stole the wonderous horse's heart.
The talk droned on, then settled down for sleep - the next morning broke, and they reluctantly packed up the campsite, continuing with their patrol.
At midday, a lone rider galloped up, all free blonde hair and shrieks of happiness. Eqil turned Wyrd back, and Mithril rounded her haunches to stare at the approaching rider.
The host of the riders raised in their stirrups, staring at the figure with animosity; a definate feeling of ominous presence fell over them, before it was broken.
Still, Legolas glued his eyes, staring in shock at the approaching Man...
Notes: As for the ever-so-helpful Anonymous reviewers - thank you, I /do/ know such information, but I've cared in this story to take certain.. artistic liberties, shall we say? Yes. Go back to the summary. Look at the first two letters. It's an AU. This means Alternate Universe, and it means that some things are rather Out-Of-Cannon. You don't like it? You can click that 'back' button just as well as read this story. ^^
Notes2: If anything is out of place with Rohan, /please/ review and tell me. The loss-of-immortality-by-a-full-elf was intentional (as is the Choosing of Horses of Old), but I rather like *constructive* critism. :)
--
Legolas steered Nientwil through the fields at a light canter. A group of roughened Rohan riders made him look resplendant with his fine golden hair and light features, and the brown and green attire of Mirkwood. Despite all of his conflicts with his sire, the elf was fiercely loyal to the lands that would, hopefully, someday be his; however, it was evident that the young man was shaken, despite how well he looked - his entire mannerisms were shaken, though proud. He had already been in the custody of Rohanian men for a week, now, and was getting used to the ways they spoke, acted, and thought. With a longsuffering sigh, he watched as yet another rider joined the pack of riders.
|Hail,| called Priynel. |Who comes?|
|Sanel, rider of the Mark, loyal to the king.|
|Then place yourself among your ranks - we shall break for the night soon.|
|We shall, shall we?| teased the captain of the band - a tall, lean man who went by the name of Eqil.
|Yes, we shall,| Riyn replied stiffly. |And you should not bother yourself with finding a location.. over there will do.| A long-fingered hand was gestured over at a flat expanse of plains.
So, they broke formation, set up camp, and had a lively fire going before the sun set - but just barely. The scouts brought back a brace of hare and a small hart, and along with vegetables they stored in saddlebags, ate the traditional plains-dinner of Rohan.
Legolas was unaccustomed to this type of dinner - long, twisted pieces of metal were produced, and meat and vegetables were speared on the skewers and roasted in the fire.
However, with travelling bread and fresh water, it made a filling and enjoyable meal - and Priynel would never admit it, but she enjoyed the sheer fun of alternating meat and different vegetables, and roasting them.
Over the roasting, the riders began to speak of their favorite topic: which horse was the best of the land.
Priynel was the first to swiftly observe that Legolas's mount, considered the best of Mirkwood, was beautiful and strong enough to easily beat any Rohan mount.
|If you wish to be ignorant and blindsighted, be sure to continue that thought,| a glib tongue riprosted. |It would be Zephyr.|
|Or Wyrd,| the late arrival announced, giving a nod towards Eqil's strong bay mount.
|I fear that Wyrd is strong of body and even stronger of heart, but couldn't hold a hoof to Zephyr,| Eqil confessed. |And now that Zephyr has chosen his Rider...|
'What's so good with this Zephyr creature?' Legolas finally interrupted, blue eyes bright as they shifted about, landing finally on the azure eyes of Eqil.
Eqil gave a hearty chuckle at the elvish words - for he knew, as they all did, that Legolas could understand them quite well, but couldn't speak a lick of Rohan. 'Zephyr is the greatest that this land has ever seen. He has proved himself wild, however - running wild races with the best of Rohan as of old, beating them handily, but also untamable to those who cannot commune with animals. I am sure that you or the elvish beauty you travel with could have riden him, but he has now chosen his Rider and will not let anyone but the one he Chose ride.'
Priynel, unnerved by being called beautiful, inched forwards. |I thought that Rohan's horses were no different than any others? What of this choosing you speak of, Captain?|
|The horses of old Chose their mounts... for they could speak to those who were so inclined to listen. Zephyr's dam was the last of the mounts of old, and he was destined to be the king's mount. However, the king could not tame him - not the best rider among us could even throw a blanket over that wild back. He is a grand looking horse, and speaks infrequently... however, he recently crossed the path of his current rider, and Chose him on the spot.|
The conversation continued, now arguing between the merits of Mithril - the name the Rohan's had bestowed Nientwil at the sight of her whitesilver coat - and Wyrd.
However, Legolas was wrapped up in the story of Zephyr, his worn mind latching onto the child's fairy-tail of innocence and wild love for the single person that stole the wonderous horse's heart.
The talk droned on, then settled down for sleep - the next morning broke, and they reluctantly packed up the campsite, continuing with their patrol.
At midday, a lone rider galloped up, all free blonde hair and shrieks of happiness. Eqil turned Wyrd back, and Mithril rounded her haunches to stare at the approaching rider.
The host of the riders raised in their stirrups, staring at the figure with animosity; a definate feeling of ominous presence fell over them, before it was broken.
Still, Legolas glued his eyes, staring in shock at the approaching Man...