This is set on the plains of Dunland when the elves are returning from
Minas Tirith after the crowning of King Elessar. Uhh. let's see. there's
about a week before the Lothlorien elves depart over the misty mountains,
so this should be at the beginning of September. :)
~*^*~
"But, Father!?"
"You heard me the first two times, Gliri, I don't want you to go out riding tonight." Father repeated for the third time as he shoveled a piece of Swanfleet pike into his mouth.
"But, why?!" I whined; my five-year old mentality kicking in. He had never forbidden this before.
He slowly chewed and swallowed. My three siblings stared at me with wide, incredulous eyes. No one had ever questioned my father's word three times; my record was two. I paid no heed to their eyes, and my furious gaze shifted to my mother.
She stirred the food on her plate and wouldn't meet my eyes. She cleared her throat, and my head whipped around to my father when he next spoke.
"I heard a wolf howl earlier." He described simply.
Okay, fine. He had forbidden me to go out riding a few times, but only when we had actually seen the Wargs. I had always been the first to hear, and see the beasts, but this day I had heard nothing. My eyes narrowed. "Liar," I breathed angrily through my teeth. Silence followed my words; well, silence followed my word.
Just as he had almost never prohibited me to go out riding, no one had ever openly called my father a liar. and lived to tell the truth.
"What did you say?" The blood had drained from his face, and his voice was deathly quiet; I was really overstepping my boundaries. He set down his fork and knife, and calmly wiped his mouth with his napkin before crossing his hands on his lap. He locked onto my eyes and I did not look away.
"I heard, nor saw any such wolf. Only the mice of the cornfields."
Father stood up, knowing he had been caught in a lie for the first time in his life. I never said he had never lied, I just said he had never been found out.
"Gliriel, go to your room. Now." Mother commanded stiffly before anyone got hurt. I stood up and stormed away from the table, slamming the door of my room behind me. I flopped down on my bed and flung an arm over my face. My mind was hatching a plan, simple, but delicate, and I let myself fall asleep. I would need the rest later.
**
Once in the night, one of my parents opened my door to check if I was asleep or not, and that accomplished, they left and went to bed. Finally, after what seemed like hours, when I heard five different snores issuing from my five relatives, I sat up, wide-awake, on my bed.
I jumped to my feet, and cracked open my door, cursing at the hinges as they creaked like thunder on the plains. I waited, my hand frozen on the wooden frame, until I heard, once again, the steady breathing of five snoring family members. As I opened the door further, the creaking continued.
'I'm really gonna have to oil those hinges one of these days.' Even my thoughts seemed loud in the silent darkness. The dog sat up and whimpered as I passed him, but I begged him to be - for once in my life - quiet, with an angry look. Nearing the front door, I grabbed Gunther's scarlet cloak off of a hook on the wall and shrugged it onto my shoulders.
Fishing around in my large pocket for a moment, I pulled out a leather band, and stuffed it in my mouth as I pulled my heavy blonde hair backwards. Wrapping it into a messy bun, I twisted the leather band around my hair, and tucked it into the hood.
My hair: another painful reminder that I was different. I was the only one not to have brown hair, and the fact that my blonde hair was completely and perfectly straight definitely clashed with my siblings' curls and ringlets.
I cringed when the latch of our front door closed behind me, sounding like a rock sending ripples throughout a shallow pool of water.
I strode quickly over to our barn where our horses were stabled for the night. I slid open the wide door and vaulted over the railing into the stall where my dear companion was kept.
When Father gave him to me, I called him what I saw fit, though I am not sure where I came up with his name from. But Maethor was massive. He was easily at least five hands higher, and three times stronger and faster than any of our other horses. Father said Maethor hailed from Rohan and that he was a Maeras (whatever that is) but there was something about him that wasn't quite. I don't know. Would it be fair for me to call any horse from Rohan crude? Maethor made the other horses look like dogs in comparison. He was much smoother and graceful, even for his size, and he was quiet. His shoed hooves made almost as little noise as my feet, even on the cobblestone floor of the barn. There was also the fact that we had him for ten years and he doesn't look any older.
I layed my hand gently on his muzzle and rubbed his strong neck. His eyes sparkled like stars from anticipation; he knew we would be flying over the plains any moment now. He couldn't wait.
"My friend? We're going to have to be extra careful tonight, I'm afraid." I whispered as I trailed a finger along a muscle on his leg. "Father doesn't want me to go out tonight, and I want to know why. Don't you?"
He bobbed his head up and down in agreement. "That's my boy: always in for an adventure!"
I swung up habitually onto his back, and dug my hands into his mane. He paced a few steps backwards, until his rear end was touching the wall of the barn. Charging forward, Maethor easily cleared the bars on the gate to his stall, his hooves making a muffled "clop" as he landed.
I leaned forward onto his neck and whispered into his fuzzy pointed ear. "I saw something earlier, Maethor. I know in my brain, as well as my heart, that that was the reason my parents didn't want me to leave."
He bobbed his head forwards again, almost throwing me off in the process. He then stamped his foot impatiently wondering in which direction was tonight's venture.
"Southwest."
Alas, my power over him ended there. He took off into the star filled night, jumping over rocks, and his hooves pounding noiselessly on the plain. He went at full gallop, which caused my hood to fly off, and the leather band holding my hair to come loose. My white moonlit tresses streamed behind us as the only indicator something was afoot on the plains of Dunland on a cool September night.
~*^*~
well, there was chappy two. let's see if it goes any better than chappy 1..
Oh. look! Oh my gosh! It's the review button. I need five reviews before I post another chappy! Five decent reviews. flames will be fed to my dragons. of which there are two.
~*^*~
"But, Father!?"
"You heard me the first two times, Gliri, I don't want you to go out riding tonight." Father repeated for the third time as he shoveled a piece of Swanfleet pike into his mouth.
"But, why?!" I whined; my five-year old mentality kicking in. He had never forbidden this before.
He slowly chewed and swallowed. My three siblings stared at me with wide, incredulous eyes. No one had ever questioned my father's word three times; my record was two. I paid no heed to their eyes, and my furious gaze shifted to my mother.
She stirred the food on her plate and wouldn't meet my eyes. She cleared her throat, and my head whipped around to my father when he next spoke.
"I heard a wolf howl earlier." He described simply.
Okay, fine. He had forbidden me to go out riding a few times, but only when we had actually seen the Wargs. I had always been the first to hear, and see the beasts, but this day I had heard nothing. My eyes narrowed. "Liar," I breathed angrily through my teeth. Silence followed my words; well, silence followed my word.
Just as he had almost never prohibited me to go out riding, no one had ever openly called my father a liar. and lived to tell the truth.
"What did you say?" The blood had drained from his face, and his voice was deathly quiet; I was really overstepping my boundaries. He set down his fork and knife, and calmly wiped his mouth with his napkin before crossing his hands on his lap. He locked onto my eyes and I did not look away.
"I heard, nor saw any such wolf. Only the mice of the cornfields."
Father stood up, knowing he had been caught in a lie for the first time in his life. I never said he had never lied, I just said he had never been found out.
"Gliriel, go to your room. Now." Mother commanded stiffly before anyone got hurt. I stood up and stormed away from the table, slamming the door of my room behind me. I flopped down on my bed and flung an arm over my face. My mind was hatching a plan, simple, but delicate, and I let myself fall asleep. I would need the rest later.
**
Once in the night, one of my parents opened my door to check if I was asleep or not, and that accomplished, they left and went to bed. Finally, after what seemed like hours, when I heard five different snores issuing from my five relatives, I sat up, wide-awake, on my bed.
I jumped to my feet, and cracked open my door, cursing at the hinges as they creaked like thunder on the plains. I waited, my hand frozen on the wooden frame, until I heard, once again, the steady breathing of five snoring family members. As I opened the door further, the creaking continued.
'I'm really gonna have to oil those hinges one of these days.' Even my thoughts seemed loud in the silent darkness. The dog sat up and whimpered as I passed him, but I begged him to be - for once in my life - quiet, with an angry look. Nearing the front door, I grabbed Gunther's scarlet cloak off of a hook on the wall and shrugged it onto my shoulders.
Fishing around in my large pocket for a moment, I pulled out a leather band, and stuffed it in my mouth as I pulled my heavy blonde hair backwards. Wrapping it into a messy bun, I twisted the leather band around my hair, and tucked it into the hood.
My hair: another painful reminder that I was different. I was the only one not to have brown hair, and the fact that my blonde hair was completely and perfectly straight definitely clashed with my siblings' curls and ringlets.
I cringed when the latch of our front door closed behind me, sounding like a rock sending ripples throughout a shallow pool of water.
I strode quickly over to our barn where our horses were stabled for the night. I slid open the wide door and vaulted over the railing into the stall where my dear companion was kept.
When Father gave him to me, I called him what I saw fit, though I am not sure where I came up with his name from. But Maethor was massive. He was easily at least five hands higher, and three times stronger and faster than any of our other horses. Father said Maethor hailed from Rohan and that he was a Maeras (whatever that is) but there was something about him that wasn't quite. I don't know. Would it be fair for me to call any horse from Rohan crude? Maethor made the other horses look like dogs in comparison. He was much smoother and graceful, even for his size, and he was quiet. His shoed hooves made almost as little noise as my feet, even on the cobblestone floor of the barn. There was also the fact that we had him for ten years and he doesn't look any older.
I layed my hand gently on his muzzle and rubbed his strong neck. His eyes sparkled like stars from anticipation; he knew we would be flying over the plains any moment now. He couldn't wait.
"My friend? We're going to have to be extra careful tonight, I'm afraid." I whispered as I trailed a finger along a muscle on his leg. "Father doesn't want me to go out tonight, and I want to know why. Don't you?"
He bobbed his head up and down in agreement. "That's my boy: always in for an adventure!"
I swung up habitually onto his back, and dug my hands into his mane. He paced a few steps backwards, until his rear end was touching the wall of the barn. Charging forward, Maethor easily cleared the bars on the gate to his stall, his hooves making a muffled "clop" as he landed.
I leaned forward onto his neck and whispered into his fuzzy pointed ear. "I saw something earlier, Maethor. I know in my brain, as well as my heart, that that was the reason my parents didn't want me to leave."
He bobbed his head forwards again, almost throwing me off in the process. He then stamped his foot impatiently wondering in which direction was tonight's venture.
"Southwest."
Alas, my power over him ended there. He took off into the star filled night, jumping over rocks, and his hooves pounding noiselessly on the plain. He went at full gallop, which caused my hood to fly off, and the leather band holding my hair to come loose. My white moonlit tresses streamed behind us as the only indicator something was afoot on the plains of Dunland on a cool September night.
~*^*~
well, there was chappy two. let's see if it goes any better than chappy 1..
Oh. look! Oh my gosh! It's the review button. I need five reviews before I post another chappy! Five decent reviews. flames will be fed to my dragons. of which there are two.