If this intro is a wee bit long, my apologies. Again, I want to thank those of you who have written reviews, which have encouraged me to write more: Aralondwen, sabercrazy, Elise, Serena, Minka, Gemma, Estel Kenobi, kfc-elf, Artemisa, bryn, Estriel and LynD. I do pay attention to suggestions and constructive criticism, and I am grateful for it, so keep it coming. Because of input, I'm planning to increase Elrohir's role mainly because some of you want more of him.
To answer questions, Vanasulë is my own creation, his name in Sindarin means "Beautiful Spirit." He carries a very special bow, Thendidorë{Sindarin for True Heart}. I've been playing D&D since '76 and I created him when my group decided to try a high level campaign (normally, we have only run characters up to 13 or 14th level. He took on a life of his own as protector and archer par excellence.
Many of you will have seen "The Two Towers" by the time you read this, without giving anything away, there is a very touching scene (or two) between Aragorn and Legolas. It shows the viewer again that these two have a history. I wanted to know what it was, and how Elladan and Elrohir taught Aragorn to be an independent and worthy Ranger, worthy of the crown of Gondor. Here's a peek into that history.
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Unclasping the brooch holding his cloak and swinging it off, Vanasulë followed Dwalkin out of the common room and through a wide doorway into a small foyer. Its shelves were covered with plates and cutlery, mugs and glasses. Dwalkin opened the next door, and a gust of freezing wind blew in. He ducked his head and went outside. Curious, Vanasulë followed. They walked only a few steps under a roofed-over walkway before coming to another building. The Elf followed the man inside. It was a kitchen.
"The inn burned down in 2998," Dwalkin answered Vanasulë's unspoken question, "so the old proprietor decided to have the kitchen detached from the main building.
"And you plan on setting up the bath in here?" Vanasulë asked. The room was warm, a long high fireplace filled the wall to his left, though only a small fire smoldered there.
"Oh, no," Dwalkin turned to face his guest. "It's over there, the next room."
Intrigued, Vanasulë followed the innkeeper's instructions. The next room was a large pantry, but it had a massive fireplace along the right wall. A huge wooden tub sat in the center.
"Water's in the well." Dwalkin stuck his head in the door.
"Which is where?"
Dwalkin jerked his thumb back toward the kitchen. "The well is in here. Much handier that way."
"Handier would be a stream flowing into the tub," Vanasulë said, remembering with fondness the rooms in Rivendell dedicated to bathing.
***
"I wonder how many hours Mr. Skipkey's stew has been cooking." Elladan looked down at Aragorn, noticing the water dripping from him. "You need to get out of those wet cloths."
The Man looked up. "I have nothing dry to put on."
"I will go get our packs," Legolas volunteered.
"I will go with you," Elladan offered.
"And I shall sit with you," Elrohir sat down in the chair beside Aragorn. "Are you numb?"
"Numb? Just my mind. I am so tired," Aragorn's blue gaze met Elrohir's, "I could sleep for a week."
"The horses feel the same way." Elrohir smiled. "They were glad to get into a stable with clean straw and water." He stood and went to the hearth. "I think a bigger fire is in order." Finding a metal poker, Elrohir stirred the barely flickering logs. "There was more wood alongside the inn. I will get some."
Aragorn did not look up as Elrohir left. His eyelids felt heavy. He fought against closing them and drifting off to sleep. His gaze fell upon his hands. They rested on top of the table. He shifted his left hand to see his ring better. It was the Ring of Barahir, one of his illustrious ancestors, a gift from Finrod, passed down for generations to the heirs of Isildur, to him. "A reminder of your lineage," Elrond had called it. Yet, though Aragorn's ancestors had done heroic deeds through the ages, the one great thing they could have done, went undone to the ruin of all.
"Aragorn?"
He stirred, looking up to see Vanasulë's sparkling blue eyes upon him.
"Come, your bath is waiting. It will revive you." The tall Elf helped him stand and guided him out to the kitchen and the bathroom.
A refreshing scent filled the air. "What is that? Athelas?"
"Among other herbs," Vanasulë told him. He helped Aragorn get out of his gear. "Do you need assistance?"
"I am just weary," Aragorn assured him. "I can manage."
"The water will not stay warm long in this cold. Get in and I'll bring another kettle. There's soap there on the stool by the tub." Vanasulë left, softly closing the door behind him.
Moving slowly, his hands clumsy, Aragorn sat and pulled off his boots, then undressed and got into the deep wide tub. The warm water enveloped him. Taking a deep breath, he reached for the soap. It was slightly scented with herbs and it lathered like the fine soaps in Rivendell. A smile tugged at his lips as he realized it was Vanasulë's soap.
By the time Aragorn had bathed himself and washed his hair, Vanasulë was back with a kettle of hot water. He poured it slowly into the tub.
"This is wonderful," Aragorn told him slowly.
"You certainly look more alive." Vanasulë smiled.
"Aragorn?" Elladan called from the doorway. "What a marvelous room! Dedicated to the bath, eh? Here are your clothes. Dwalkin says he will dry your wet clothes by the fire."
Depositing some dry clothes, Elladan looked around. "There is nothing to dry yourself with. Dwalkin!" he called.
Only a moment passed before the innkeeper looked in the door. "You called, sir?"
"Towels."
"Towels?"
"There are no towels," Elladan told him.
"I'm sorry, sir. I have no towels. Will a blanket do?"
"It will do." Aragorn was beginning to wonder if his bath had turned into a social occasion. "Please, Mr. Skipkey."
"Right away."
***
In the common room, Elrohir loaded more logs onto the fire.
"That is better," Legolas commented. "I wonder if the fire in our room is lit."
Elrohir brushed dust from his hands. "Vanasulë has the key."
"I'll get it." Legolas turned then paused as he detected the sounds of someone coming toward the door at the rear of the room. Vanasulë appeared, Elladan behind him. Elladan had to fight against the wind to close the door.
"Aragorn will be fine," Vanasulë informed them. "He needs rest and warm food. I'll make sure our room is heated." He mounted the stairs.
In a soft low voice, Elladan said, "I am concerned." He moved over to Legolas and Elrohir. "I had a moment with Mr. Skipkey. These marauders he spoke of are viscous. They raped and killed members of his family, maimed one of his brothers and robbed the entire town blind year after year. Mr. Skipkey is still fearful that they may come here very soon."
"We shall be vigilant," Legolas assured him.
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Okay, the fun starts in Chapter Six.
To answer questions, Vanasulë is my own creation, his name in Sindarin means "Beautiful Spirit." He carries a very special bow, Thendidorë{Sindarin for True Heart}. I've been playing D&D since '76 and I created him when my group decided to try a high level campaign (normally, we have only run characters up to 13 or 14th level. He took on a life of his own as protector and archer par excellence.
Many of you will have seen "The Two Towers" by the time you read this, without giving anything away, there is a very touching scene (or two) between Aragorn and Legolas. It shows the viewer again that these two have a history. I wanted to know what it was, and how Elladan and Elrohir taught Aragorn to be an independent and worthy Ranger, worthy of the crown of Gondor. Here's a peek into that history.
**************************** **************************************** *********************
( ( ( ( ( ( ( (
Unclasping the brooch holding his cloak and swinging it off, Vanasulë followed Dwalkin out of the common room and through a wide doorway into a small foyer. Its shelves were covered with plates and cutlery, mugs and glasses. Dwalkin opened the next door, and a gust of freezing wind blew in. He ducked his head and went outside. Curious, Vanasulë followed. They walked only a few steps under a roofed-over walkway before coming to another building. The Elf followed the man inside. It was a kitchen.
"The inn burned down in 2998," Dwalkin answered Vanasulë's unspoken question, "so the old proprietor decided to have the kitchen detached from the main building.
"And you plan on setting up the bath in here?" Vanasulë asked. The room was warm, a long high fireplace filled the wall to his left, though only a small fire smoldered there.
"Oh, no," Dwalkin turned to face his guest. "It's over there, the next room."
Intrigued, Vanasulë followed the innkeeper's instructions. The next room was a large pantry, but it had a massive fireplace along the right wall. A huge wooden tub sat in the center.
"Water's in the well." Dwalkin stuck his head in the door.
"Which is where?"
Dwalkin jerked his thumb back toward the kitchen. "The well is in here. Much handier that way."
"Handier would be a stream flowing into the tub," Vanasulë said, remembering with fondness the rooms in Rivendell dedicated to bathing.
***
"I wonder how many hours Mr. Skipkey's stew has been cooking." Elladan looked down at Aragorn, noticing the water dripping from him. "You need to get out of those wet cloths."
The Man looked up. "I have nothing dry to put on."
"I will go get our packs," Legolas volunteered.
"I will go with you," Elladan offered.
"And I shall sit with you," Elrohir sat down in the chair beside Aragorn. "Are you numb?"
"Numb? Just my mind. I am so tired," Aragorn's blue gaze met Elrohir's, "I could sleep for a week."
"The horses feel the same way." Elrohir smiled. "They were glad to get into a stable with clean straw and water." He stood and went to the hearth. "I think a bigger fire is in order." Finding a metal poker, Elrohir stirred the barely flickering logs. "There was more wood alongside the inn. I will get some."
Aragorn did not look up as Elrohir left. His eyelids felt heavy. He fought against closing them and drifting off to sleep. His gaze fell upon his hands. They rested on top of the table. He shifted his left hand to see his ring better. It was the Ring of Barahir, one of his illustrious ancestors, a gift from Finrod, passed down for generations to the heirs of Isildur, to him. "A reminder of your lineage," Elrond had called it. Yet, though Aragorn's ancestors had done heroic deeds through the ages, the one great thing they could have done, went undone to the ruin of all.
"Aragorn?"
He stirred, looking up to see Vanasulë's sparkling blue eyes upon him.
"Come, your bath is waiting. It will revive you." The tall Elf helped him stand and guided him out to the kitchen and the bathroom.
A refreshing scent filled the air. "What is that? Athelas?"
"Among other herbs," Vanasulë told him. He helped Aragorn get out of his gear. "Do you need assistance?"
"I am just weary," Aragorn assured him. "I can manage."
"The water will not stay warm long in this cold. Get in and I'll bring another kettle. There's soap there on the stool by the tub." Vanasulë left, softly closing the door behind him.
Moving slowly, his hands clumsy, Aragorn sat and pulled off his boots, then undressed and got into the deep wide tub. The warm water enveloped him. Taking a deep breath, he reached for the soap. It was slightly scented with herbs and it lathered like the fine soaps in Rivendell. A smile tugged at his lips as he realized it was Vanasulë's soap.
By the time Aragorn had bathed himself and washed his hair, Vanasulë was back with a kettle of hot water. He poured it slowly into the tub.
"This is wonderful," Aragorn told him slowly.
"You certainly look more alive." Vanasulë smiled.
"Aragorn?" Elladan called from the doorway. "What a marvelous room! Dedicated to the bath, eh? Here are your clothes. Dwalkin says he will dry your wet clothes by the fire."
Depositing some dry clothes, Elladan looked around. "There is nothing to dry yourself with. Dwalkin!" he called.
Only a moment passed before the innkeeper looked in the door. "You called, sir?"
"Towels."
"Towels?"
"There are no towels," Elladan told him.
"I'm sorry, sir. I have no towels. Will a blanket do?"
"It will do." Aragorn was beginning to wonder if his bath had turned into a social occasion. "Please, Mr. Skipkey."
"Right away."
***
In the common room, Elrohir loaded more logs onto the fire.
"That is better," Legolas commented. "I wonder if the fire in our room is lit."
Elrohir brushed dust from his hands. "Vanasulë has the key."
"I'll get it." Legolas turned then paused as he detected the sounds of someone coming toward the door at the rear of the room. Vanasulë appeared, Elladan behind him. Elladan had to fight against the wind to close the door.
"Aragorn will be fine," Vanasulë informed them. "He needs rest and warm food. I'll make sure our room is heated." He mounted the stairs.
In a soft low voice, Elladan said, "I am concerned." He moved over to Legolas and Elrohir. "I had a moment with Mr. Skipkey. These marauders he spoke of are viscous. They raped and killed members of his family, maimed one of his brothers and robbed the entire town blind year after year. Mr. Skipkey is still fearful that they may come here very soon."
"We shall be vigilant," Legolas assured him.
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))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
**************************** **************************************** *********************
( ( ( ( ( ( ( (
Okay, the fun starts in Chapter Six.