*I know, it's short, many apologies. But, you see, the voices tend to have
long conversations, very time consuming, ya know. Skips away to talk to
self*
Chap 6
"Really? Why? I feel special." Behind the elves groaned on despair. This was not going well. Legolas grinned. Miriel always was special. The rider removed his helmet and stepped down from his chestnut steed, which was prancing and rolling his eyes with impatience. Miriel and Ewen's eyes widened.
"EOMUND!" The rider grinned as Miriel and Ewen ran towards him.
"Well, I will have to go away more often if I get this kind of welcome." Legolas was shifting uncomfortably. "Who are your friends?" Ewen smiled as her chance appeared.
"Oh, that's Miriel's boyfriend, my brother Legolas." Miriel and Legolas looked at each other and groaned, Miriel banging her head on his shoulder. Ewen smiled even wider.
Eomund, restraining his laughter and failing miserably, opened his mouth to speak. "Perhaps you and your soldiers
"Thank you, good rider. We will follow you back to your city." "Very well." Eomund swung back onto his horse, which reared slightly and tried to bolt. Miriel sighed and went to find Piron. He was standing by a tree on the edge of the bubbling stream.
"Hey, Piron, it is alright. What's wrong, little boy, huh?" Piron flinched away from her trembling and foam dripping off his neck. Miriel blinked, puzzled. Then she saw it. A black adder was coiled on the stream bank, hissing and stretching its neck out towards Piron, angrily.
"Oh, Valar smite it," She muttered. The snake turned its head towards her, its forked tongue inches from her leg. She really, really hated snakes.
Taking a deep breath, she drew out her sword, glinting in the early morning sunshine. The snake started uncoiling and flowing towards her. Adrenaline coursed through her veins. Steeling her fear, she slashed her sword at the adder and watched as it was swept away into the river. Suppressing her shivers, she wiped her sword on the cattails and turned back to Legolas's horse. Piron stopped shaking and turned his drooping head towards Miriel. She reached out her hand and stroked his forehead. "Come on, boy." They turned and walked back towards the Riders of Rohan. Legolas walked towards them hurriedly. "
"Melamin, are you all right?" A worried _expression crossed his face. "What happened?" Miriel leapt onto Piron's back and looked down on her boyfriend.
"It was just an adder." She said nonchalantly. Legolas swung up behind her and put his arms around her waist. He whispered into her ear. "I thought you were afraid of snakes."
"I am." She shifted and turned to look into Legolas's face. "I am fine, alright?" He smiled and pulled her close to him. Piron cantered on behind the Riders.
"You are the most wonderful elf I have ever met."
"I'm touched." Legolas laughed behind her and Miriel smiled happily.
Ewen heard them and turned back to look at them. Her heart tightened painfully. The Rider next to her noticed her change in expression. "Do not worry, miss. There will be someone for you." He smiled. "Plenty of men would be very happy to find a girl like you." Ewen smiled, somewhat affronted.
"Thank you, I think." The Rider smiled, satisfied and rode on ahead. Ewen was drifting off to her daydreams, which I am not going to describe here, when a call from the frontline cut through her reverie.
"The Golden Hall is near!" Surprisingly enough, the leader galloped ahead even faster. Thunder pierced Miriel's thoughts as Eomund and his riders wound their way up the hill of Edoras. Loping under the fortified gate, they wound their way up through the streets to the peak of the hill, which was crowned in the rising rays of the sun. Leaping to the ground with the fluidity of an elf, Eomund lead the way into his hall. The elves followed cautiously. Guards at the door snapped into attention. Doors weighing as much as a mature stallion clattered open.
"Oh, by the Valar," Ewen whispered, dumbstruck. Sunlight streamed into the hall, filling the walls with captured sunbeams almost blinding to the eye. Three long trestle tables occupied the center of the grand hall, while a throne carved in the likeness of three horses dominated the upper portion of the floor. A meal fit for Lord Ulmo himself covered the table and Miriel's stomach groaned, remembering a long ago breakfast. Several elves strayed towards the table appreciatively. Eomund noted this.
"Alas, my friends, before we eat, let us be entertained. Follow me." Eomund proclaimed with the air of a practiced host. He stalked up through another entrance as some of the younger elves groaned sadly to themselves. The corridor they treaded muffled their whispered protests to all but Elven ears. The eyes of the other elves, as unreadable as their faces where supposed to be, showed signs of apprehension mixed with doubt.
The air was slowly permeated with the wafting breeze carrying the smells of horses and fresh hay. Miriel breathed in deeply, cleansing her lungs of the sluggish corridor air. The polished hardwood they trod on abruptly changed to worn and weathered grey flagstones and stray wisps of alfalfa. The walls dropped away as they entered the open air, right in front of a massive corral that was strangely devoid of horses. The clouds were a deep pink and were eyed with appreciation by elves, which failed to notice the abrupt halt of the king and ran into each other in a picture of disarray. They quickly untangled themselves, some of them turning pink in the process.
Grumbles filled the air. Miriel put a callused hand to her head. "Ow." Her voice echoed on the now silent stables of Rohan. Then she saw it. The corral was not, s she thought, empty. A single horse all but dominated the immense space, glaring at the trespassers to its "realm". Then, with the fluidity of a practiced dancer, (that's for you, Max) she--the horse had a definite female air-deliberately approached them, lips pulled back in a rage filled snarl. The setting sun sent rays of red light across a black, shining pelt, with a mane trailing down to her hocks. Arching neck, Roman nose, and long, muscular legs set this mare apart from the Quarter like horses that normally occupied Rohan.
"That, my friends, is a queen." Eomund's mouth quirked in a small smile. "And she deserves to be humbled." A tall Rohirrim approached the corral from the far side and the mare spun on her hind legs to charge him. He rolled nimbly out of the way and leapt with a practiced air, onto her back. She froze, the calm before the storm. The she exploded in a series of bucks and leaps that would make a mustang proud.
Without a saddle or hackamore of any sort, the rider hung on grimly, grabbing the curly black mane as if grabbing for his life. Which, in a way, he was. The mare realized that he wasn't getting off without a fight and dropped to her knees. The rider smiled, thinking her done for. The smile vanished faster than cream down a cat's throat as the mare laid on her side and proceeded to roll. The rider slid off, just in time to avoided two thousand pounds slamming onto his leg. Satisfied, the mare leapt up and proceeded to chase the Rohirrim around the corral.
All this happened without anyone uttering a single word. The Rider stormed over to the king.
"That horse is NOT safe! Throw it to the dogs!" His face was white with fury. Miriel couldn't help smirking, just a little. That horse had a great sense of humor. The Rider's eyes immediately turned to her, infuriated. "Try yourself, elf," he spat the word like a vile poison.
Miriel bowed, "As you wish." Then, with three fluid strides, she vaulted over the fence. The horse stalked towards her slowly, like a predator and its prey, nostrils flaring angrily. Miriel stood her ground as the horse ran at her. Legolas grew milk-white and looked away. Then, just as death seemed inevitable, Miriel held out her hand, palm first. The mare slid to a stop, confused. This two-legger was weird. The, slowly, she shuffled forward to nuzzle the elf's palm. Raising her other hand, Miriel scratched the mare's forehead and whispered into her ear.
"Let's go get them all very, very muddy." The horse seemed to ponder this for a moment, and then nodded vigorously. Like rider, like horse. Miriel grinned and swung the broad back. The mare calmly turned and walked back to the other end of the corral. Then, launching into a full hand gallop, she effortlessly cleared the fence to land in a huge puddle of mud, drenching the rider and some of the more impertinent elves, along with Ewen, of course. The King stood, silent, and then burst into a deep-bellied laugh.
"Deserve each other, they do. The mare is a gift to fine rider. Ride well." Miriel responded with a deep bow. Turning, she encountered a few malevolent stares coming from newly...darkened faces. "And I leave you, Miriel, to deal with them." The king inclined his head in the direction of the mud puddle and then turned and swept away, leaving behind a full pledged mud fight. Elves were not as ..reserved.. as they seemed. Or as clean.
*Be good little minions and review. Or I will smite you all! Muhahahahaha..ha! I win.
Chap 6
"Really? Why? I feel special." Behind the elves groaned on despair. This was not going well. Legolas grinned. Miriel always was special. The rider removed his helmet and stepped down from his chestnut steed, which was prancing and rolling his eyes with impatience. Miriel and Ewen's eyes widened.
"EOMUND!" The rider grinned as Miriel and Ewen ran towards him.
"Well, I will have to go away more often if I get this kind of welcome." Legolas was shifting uncomfortably. "Who are your friends?" Ewen smiled as her chance appeared.
"Oh, that's Miriel's boyfriend, my brother Legolas." Miriel and Legolas looked at each other and groaned, Miriel banging her head on his shoulder. Ewen smiled even wider.
Eomund, restraining his laughter and failing miserably, opened his mouth to speak. "Perhaps you and your soldiers
"Thank you, good rider. We will follow you back to your city." "Very well." Eomund swung back onto his horse, which reared slightly and tried to bolt. Miriel sighed and went to find Piron. He was standing by a tree on the edge of the bubbling stream.
"Hey, Piron, it is alright. What's wrong, little boy, huh?" Piron flinched away from her trembling and foam dripping off his neck. Miriel blinked, puzzled. Then she saw it. A black adder was coiled on the stream bank, hissing and stretching its neck out towards Piron, angrily.
"Oh, Valar smite it," She muttered. The snake turned its head towards her, its forked tongue inches from her leg. She really, really hated snakes.
Taking a deep breath, she drew out her sword, glinting in the early morning sunshine. The snake started uncoiling and flowing towards her. Adrenaline coursed through her veins. Steeling her fear, she slashed her sword at the adder and watched as it was swept away into the river. Suppressing her shivers, she wiped her sword on the cattails and turned back to Legolas's horse. Piron stopped shaking and turned his drooping head towards Miriel. She reached out her hand and stroked his forehead. "Come on, boy." They turned and walked back towards the Riders of Rohan. Legolas walked towards them hurriedly. "
"Melamin, are you all right?" A worried _expression crossed his face. "What happened?" Miriel leapt onto Piron's back and looked down on her boyfriend.
"It was just an adder." She said nonchalantly. Legolas swung up behind her and put his arms around her waist. He whispered into her ear. "I thought you were afraid of snakes."
"I am." She shifted and turned to look into Legolas's face. "I am fine, alright?" He smiled and pulled her close to him. Piron cantered on behind the Riders.
"You are the most wonderful elf I have ever met."
"I'm touched." Legolas laughed behind her and Miriel smiled happily.
Ewen heard them and turned back to look at them. Her heart tightened painfully. The Rider next to her noticed her change in expression. "Do not worry, miss. There will be someone for you." He smiled. "Plenty of men would be very happy to find a girl like you." Ewen smiled, somewhat affronted.
"Thank you, I think." The Rider smiled, satisfied and rode on ahead. Ewen was drifting off to her daydreams, which I am not going to describe here, when a call from the frontline cut through her reverie.
"The Golden Hall is near!" Surprisingly enough, the leader galloped ahead even faster. Thunder pierced Miriel's thoughts as Eomund and his riders wound their way up the hill of Edoras. Loping under the fortified gate, they wound their way up through the streets to the peak of the hill, which was crowned in the rising rays of the sun. Leaping to the ground with the fluidity of an elf, Eomund lead the way into his hall. The elves followed cautiously. Guards at the door snapped into attention. Doors weighing as much as a mature stallion clattered open.
"Oh, by the Valar," Ewen whispered, dumbstruck. Sunlight streamed into the hall, filling the walls with captured sunbeams almost blinding to the eye. Three long trestle tables occupied the center of the grand hall, while a throne carved in the likeness of three horses dominated the upper portion of the floor. A meal fit for Lord Ulmo himself covered the table and Miriel's stomach groaned, remembering a long ago breakfast. Several elves strayed towards the table appreciatively. Eomund noted this.
"Alas, my friends, before we eat, let us be entertained. Follow me." Eomund proclaimed with the air of a practiced host. He stalked up through another entrance as some of the younger elves groaned sadly to themselves. The corridor they treaded muffled their whispered protests to all but Elven ears. The eyes of the other elves, as unreadable as their faces where supposed to be, showed signs of apprehension mixed with doubt.
The air was slowly permeated with the wafting breeze carrying the smells of horses and fresh hay. Miriel breathed in deeply, cleansing her lungs of the sluggish corridor air. The polished hardwood they trod on abruptly changed to worn and weathered grey flagstones and stray wisps of alfalfa. The walls dropped away as they entered the open air, right in front of a massive corral that was strangely devoid of horses. The clouds were a deep pink and were eyed with appreciation by elves, which failed to notice the abrupt halt of the king and ran into each other in a picture of disarray. They quickly untangled themselves, some of them turning pink in the process.
Grumbles filled the air. Miriel put a callused hand to her head. "Ow." Her voice echoed on the now silent stables of Rohan. Then she saw it. The corral was not, s she thought, empty. A single horse all but dominated the immense space, glaring at the trespassers to its "realm". Then, with the fluidity of a practiced dancer, (that's for you, Max) she--the horse had a definite female air-deliberately approached them, lips pulled back in a rage filled snarl. The setting sun sent rays of red light across a black, shining pelt, with a mane trailing down to her hocks. Arching neck, Roman nose, and long, muscular legs set this mare apart from the Quarter like horses that normally occupied Rohan.
"That, my friends, is a queen." Eomund's mouth quirked in a small smile. "And she deserves to be humbled." A tall Rohirrim approached the corral from the far side and the mare spun on her hind legs to charge him. He rolled nimbly out of the way and leapt with a practiced air, onto her back. She froze, the calm before the storm. The she exploded in a series of bucks and leaps that would make a mustang proud.
Without a saddle or hackamore of any sort, the rider hung on grimly, grabbing the curly black mane as if grabbing for his life. Which, in a way, he was. The mare realized that he wasn't getting off without a fight and dropped to her knees. The rider smiled, thinking her done for. The smile vanished faster than cream down a cat's throat as the mare laid on her side and proceeded to roll. The rider slid off, just in time to avoided two thousand pounds slamming onto his leg. Satisfied, the mare leapt up and proceeded to chase the Rohirrim around the corral.
All this happened without anyone uttering a single word. The Rider stormed over to the king.
"That horse is NOT safe! Throw it to the dogs!" His face was white with fury. Miriel couldn't help smirking, just a little. That horse had a great sense of humor. The Rider's eyes immediately turned to her, infuriated. "Try yourself, elf," he spat the word like a vile poison.
Miriel bowed, "As you wish." Then, with three fluid strides, she vaulted over the fence. The horse stalked towards her slowly, like a predator and its prey, nostrils flaring angrily. Miriel stood her ground as the horse ran at her. Legolas grew milk-white and looked away. Then, just as death seemed inevitable, Miriel held out her hand, palm first. The mare slid to a stop, confused. This two-legger was weird. The, slowly, she shuffled forward to nuzzle the elf's palm. Raising her other hand, Miriel scratched the mare's forehead and whispered into her ear.
"Let's go get them all very, very muddy." The horse seemed to ponder this for a moment, and then nodded vigorously. Like rider, like horse. Miriel grinned and swung the broad back. The mare calmly turned and walked back to the other end of the corral. Then, launching into a full hand gallop, she effortlessly cleared the fence to land in a huge puddle of mud, drenching the rider and some of the more impertinent elves, along with Ewen, of course. The King stood, silent, and then burst into a deep-bellied laugh.
"Deserve each other, they do. The mare is a gift to fine rider. Ride well." Miriel responded with a deep bow. Turning, she encountered a few malevolent stares coming from newly...darkened faces. "And I leave you, Miriel, to deal with them." The king inclined his head in the direction of the mud puddle and then turned and swept away, leaving behind a full pledged mud fight. Elves were not as ..reserved.. as they seemed. Or as clean.
*Be good little minions and review. Or I will smite you all! Muhahahahaha..ha! I win.