A/N: Well, I was praying and working my tail of trying to finish this
chapter before I leave tomorrow, and guess what? I did!!! So proud of
myself! Hey! Between a summer school final paper, a project, AND packing
for my trip, I think I did pretty well!
I'm rather fond of this chapter, so I hope readers will be too. I'll be writing as much as I can on my trip. But you'll have to wait three weeks! Unless I get lucky and find Internet access in England where I'm staying! Yay! I can't wait! Get ready for a flurry of poems and more chapters of this when I get back, because I'll be writing a lot!
Thanks to all the reviewers and readers that choose not to leave a little note!!!! Keep at it!!! I'm working as fast as my schedule can allow! QuickEdit is being extremely difficult right now!
Susan: I can't wait to read more!!! Malificus! Check out her stories! She's Roisin Dubh.
Chapter 29: Butterflies on the water
"My Lord!" Theodred heard the unmistakable voice of Halas call, "My Lord!"
Brego turned, to see Halas riding up from the back of the company, where he accompanied Elentari, for she had grown to like his blunt company.
"Yes Halas?"
"My Lord, could we not stop for a rest?" The candor of his request drew him aback for a moment.
"We have only been riding for a few hours, Halas. Surely you do not tire so soon?"
He colored, "It is not I, my Lord, but the Lady. She won't admit it, but I can see her strength waning."
Theodred was touched by the sincerity in the man's eyes, and smiled to himself that she had found her way into the hearts of his men.
"My Lord?" Halas questioned for he heard no answer from Theodred.
"We will ride until the next shelter of trees, and to my memory, it is not too far away. There, we shall rest."
Halas bowed as he could, on his horse, and trotted back to the end. Theodred's gaze lingered upon the man. He knew naught what it was, but Elentari had taken a liking to Halas, and when he had asked her why, she had answered, "I like his candor, how he won't hide anything from you. If he has something to say, he'll say it, without coloring it with pretty wiles and words that are meant to soften the bad news. I grew up in court and I know that it is rare to come across this quality."
To his word, Theodred signaled a halt at the next shelter, and while some men scouted the surrounding area for danger, others prepared some food and refreshments. After ensuring that everything was fine, Theodred sat down beside his bride.
She offered a faint smile, which he returned, and he asked, "How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" he eyed her dubiously.
"Don't look at me that way," her voice was playful.
"Halas said you were tiring," he looked worried, for Halas had also privately confronted him, worriedly, telling him that her strength seemed less with each passing day. They had entered the realm of Rohan, and were making steady progress towards Edoras, but he himself had also noticed the rapid deterioration of her health, as much as she tried to cover it.
"Halas worries overmuch," she smiled.
"Yet he does not worry without reason," Theodred replied.
She sighed, "I'm fine, Theodred. You sound like Faramir."
"Is that not a good thing?" he questioned, and she looked at him puzzledly. "Those that worry about you love you the most."
"Sometimes it is those that love us that hurt us the most," she twisted his words against him.
"Ai, you're right, but it shows that they do, indeed, love you." For this, Elentari had no answers, merely closed her eyes. As she held her head in her hands, hunched over, her knees supporting her, he placed a hand on her shoulder, and with the other, carefully lifted her chin up.
"I know you're tired," Theodred stroked her cheek gently, and she felt eerie shivers running through her, "But I'm afraid it's something more."
"It is nothing, my Lord," she murmured, pressing her lips against his hand, yet feeling it was out of place.
"If you say so," but she could tell he wasn't convinced. She had, indeed, felt light-headed at times, and the constant riding had surprisingly, been quite a toll on her, which she did not feel as natural. Though she never had experience with riding at days at a time, it was something she enjoyed, and had never before tired from. Yet she merely dismissed it as a side effect of moving for so long, and she had never been so far away from home. No. This is your home now; Rohan, not Gondor.
They rode on, after a short rest, and Halas kept fussing over her, insisting that she had not eaten enough, or that she looked too pale. Finally, she snapped, "Halas! I'm fine!" Seeing the stricken look upon his face, she softened, "Listen. I know you meant well, and I really appreciate your concern, but just let me ask you this. The first time we spoke, you told me that you had a young wife and a newborn, along with your elderly mother." Halas nodded, "Do your wife and mother fuss over you so?"
"My mother used to, when I was a child, my Lady," Halas replied, still a bit apprehensive.
"You know you needn't address me in that title when we're alone," she said for the umpteenth time, but knew that Halas would not abide, "But how did you feel when your mother did that?"
Halas thought about it for a moment, and answered, "Like a young child, and I kept insisting that I was too grown for that kind of treatment."
"Exactly. Now you understand my point?"
Halas hated the way that she could always prove him wrong, especially using his own words, but nodded, "Yes, my La--, I mean, Elentari," but he felt uncomfortable just calling her that, so he added, "Miss."
She smiled at his hesitation, especially when he added, "I'm sorry, miss. I'm just worried that if you need something, you won't ask for it."
"Thank you for being so considerate," and he could tell that she meant it, "And I assure you, if I want something, I'll go out of my way to have it." Pity, the thing I want most is something I'm going farther away from every passing moment.
"How far are we from Rohan?" she asked.
He chuckled a bit, "We are in Rohan, my Lady, I mean Elentari. We are about two days away from Edoras, the way we're going now. I know Theoden King will be eager to meet you, and young Lady Eowyn. It will be nice for her to have another one of you womenfolk in the Hall with her, if you don't mind me saying so."
They rode on till dusk, and started very early the next morning, and witnessed, as Elentari said, "The most beautiful sunrise." It had only been a few hours until Elentari, as Halas put it, "Simply dozed off on her horse," but after informing Theodred and ensuring that she wouldn't fall off, which Talcalina would never allow, they rode on.
Starting early in the morning allowed them to set up camp early, by a beautiful lake, little more than a day's ride from Edoras, and they felt very secure against any attacks. Elentari had not awoken, and Theodred had lifted her gently off Talcalina, carried her in his arms to an awning his men had set up, and placed her on a few layers of blankets. She had felt so light in his arms, too light for what she should weigh, but as he watched her sleeping, her chest rising and falling with each intake of breath, he could not bear to wake her, and marveled at how beautiful, yet fragile, she looked, like a precious gem, so beautiful and delicate, shining radiantly, but can easily shatter, losing all its light.
Watching her, he lost track of time, and soon, the Sun began to descend. He wondered if he should wake her, for she had been asleep for a very long time, and had been rather still, and if it had not been for her soft breathing, he would have been worried if she was still here with them.
Finally, she whispered a name, though he could not hear it. He grasped her hand, and strained his ears intently, trying to catch what she said. "Fara— she didn't finish her word, but he could guess whom she was calling for. Yet he dismissed it after some brief thought.
When he looked down at her again, she was smiling faintly, her eyes open just enough that he could tell that she was awake.
"Good morning," he smiled at her.
"What time is it?" she groaned, stretching her arms.
"Nearing dusk. What happened to the 'I'm not tired' statement that you kept issuing?" There was a good-natured glint in his eyes and a smile curving at the side of his lips.
She stretched again, and yawning said, "I dreamt. I'd forgotten we were riding. I was dreaming, dreaming of a time when all of us, Boromir, Faramir, and I, visited Dol Amroth." Yet she did not elaborate this memory to him.
Once she had finally decided to rise, he pulled her up, and murmured, "Come with me." But then, he stopped again, and pulled out a piece of cloth.
"May I?" he motioned to tie it on her.
"Now Theodred, what is so special that it requires me to walk blindly?" she asked, though gave her consent.
Once he ensured that the blindfold was tight enough, and had to test to see if she could see anything, he took her hands, and guided her forward.
"Are you sure you're not leading me into an Orc ambush or something?" she mused, trying to see through the cloth.
"Well, you should trust me," Theodred replied. Elentari heard the splashing of water nearby, and smiled. Theodred bid her to stop, and gently removed the cloth, though making her swear that she would keep her eyes shut until he told her otherwise.
"Now." Elentari gasped as the breath-taking sight greeted her, as Theodred grinned triumphantly. The lake was in resplendent grandeur reflecting beneath the myriad of colors of the sunset. The soft tones of blue and lilac were interwoven with the fiery shades of red, orange, and fading yellow. The light hit the water at a perfect angle, shimmering the outline of the sun, and Elentari felt she had never seen anything that beautiful, save once, in Dol Amroth, of which she had dreamed.
"Faramir! Where are you going?" Imrahil questioned his adolescent nephew.
"We were thinking about going out, onto the lake," Faramir answered, a faint tremble in his voice.
"Who's 'we'?" Imrahil asked, a bit skeptically.
"Isilmë and I. We were planning to go to that place where all the willows drape over the lake."
"Oh," Imrahil ceded, "Be back for dinner." Faramir grinned once his uncle was out of sight. He ran to the dock, where she was already waiting for him.
"Took you long enough," she teased.
"Uncle stopped me," Faramir replied, "Put me through a full interrogation."
Isilmë shook her head. They had been so young then, five years ago. She was sixteen, and he, just before his twentieth birthday, insisting that he was a man. Seeing this lake stirred the vivid, beloved memory from deep within her.
"Will you help me row?" Faramir barked at her as he guided the boat.
"No."
"Why not?" he was sweating.
"Because I like to admire the beauty of the water," and she meant it, "And besides, I love watching you toil and sweat."
"Brat," he murmured to himself, barely audibly.
"What did you call me?" she looked positively affronted.
"You heard me," he had an impish grin upon his face, and before she could react, he had reached into the water, and splashed water all over her. She screamed, and before long, they both launched into a water attack. He pelted her relentlessly, until her dress was soaked through and through.
Finally, they held a truce, and he continued to row, and Isilmë held a paddle in her hand, occasionally dipping it into the water, so to avoid Faramir's scowls. She felt the grazing of a willow strand upon her back. They entered the canopy of majestic, ageless trees, and she admired their transcendent beauty. Yet above the timeless trees, the songs of the sweet birds, and even the inviting water, she marveled at him the most. She blushed as she noticed him regarding her as well, and asked, "Why do you look at me that way?"
"I can never get over how beautiful you are," he replied, no embarrassment coloring him, for he was merely stating what he believed to be a fact, "I want to capture this moment in my mind forever, the song of the birds, how your hair is disheveled from all the water, yet still frames your face marvelously, the way your eyes gaze at me from beneath those lashes, matching the color of the water, making me want you, enticing me to spring off of my seat into your arms." She smiled, tears of delight in her eyes, but right when she had ventured into another world, she was jerked back, as cold water splashed all over her. She looked up to see Faramir grinning, and before she could realize what happened, they were already into the fight. The next thing she knew, she was plummeted into the cold water.
"FARAMIR!!" she screamed, as she saw him grinning smugly, comparatively dry, from the small boat, "I'll have your head for this!"
"I am waiting, my Lady," he mocked a bow, "Yet I do not see—he hadn't finished when he too, joined her in the summer water. The first thing she heard when he resurfaced was, "That's it," as he swam towards her viciously, forcing her head beneath the water.
Once they had finished attempting to torment one another, they crawled back, totally soaked, into the overturned boat, and lay there, exhausted, in each other's arms.
"Isilmë?" he faintly murmured into her neck.
"Mmhm?"
"Look," he pointed up into the sky. Two butterflies were skittering across the blue horizon, sometimes together, sometimes apart, flirting with one another, enticing the other to come nearer. Yet in the end, they joined, flying as one, bound by love.
"I love you," he kissed her neck.
"And I, you," she moaned as pleasure swept through her.
Theodred had been watching her; her eyes distant and dreamy, and he knew that she was lost in some far off memory, one that he was not in. Suddenly however, she jerked back, and offered him another smile, yet this one was tainted by nostalgia.
"Care to share what you were thinking of?" Theodred asked, once they were seated at the edge of the lake, her eyes never leaving the shining surface.
She shook her head, "Merely reliving a memory long gone."
"Happier times," it was more to himself than to her. She nodded, and turned to see him smiling at her.
"Let us enjoy what the men have cooked up tonight," Theodred proposed, and Elentari groaned. She could only hope that the women of Rohan could cook better than the men could, for if they didn't, she couldn't see how they had survived all these years. Halas and Theodred had not allowed her to cook however, and she was secretly relieved, for she had never enjoyed the arduous task.
"Come now, not so loud!" Theodred chastised mischievously, "They can hear you! You'll hurt their feelings, even if it is the truth." She pushed him playfully, her laughter ringing in Rohan for the first time.
As they ate, gazing out into the transcendent beauty of the lake meeting with the sun, she remembered other times, but reminded herself that, there is no use reminding yourself of what you once had, making yourself forgetful of what you have now, until that is gone, too.
A/N: I know some of the dialogue is rather "modern" if you will it, but I just didn't feel like changing it. Anybody catch the symbolism with the butterflies? I don't know. I just felt like writing it. Does it even make sense? Review! If any of you become impatient with my lack of updates since I'm gone for the next three weeks, just remember this: I promise to update this story at least 4 times a week once I get back and I'm going to post a lot of poetry! Review! Thanks!
I'm rather fond of this chapter, so I hope readers will be too. I'll be writing as much as I can on my trip. But you'll have to wait three weeks! Unless I get lucky and find Internet access in England where I'm staying! Yay! I can't wait! Get ready for a flurry of poems and more chapters of this when I get back, because I'll be writing a lot!
Thanks to all the reviewers and readers that choose not to leave a little note!!!! Keep at it!!! I'm working as fast as my schedule can allow! QuickEdit is being extremely difficult right now!
Susan: I can't wait to read more!!! Malificus! Check out her stories! She's Roisin Dubh.
Chapter 29: Butterflies on the water
"My Lord!" Theodred heard the unmistakable voice of Halas call, "My Lord!"
Brego turned, to see Halas riding up from the back of the company, where he accompanied Elentari, for she had grown to like his blunt company.
"Yes Halas?"
"My Lord, could we not stop for a rest?" The candor of his request drew him aback for a moment.
"We have only been riding for a few hours, Halas. Surely you do not tire so soon?"
He colored, "It is not I, my Lord, but the Lady. She won't admit it, but I can see her strength waning."
Theodred was touched by the sincerity in the man's eyes, and smiled to himself that she had found her way into the hearts of his men.
"My Lord?" Halas questioned for he heard no answer from Theodred.
"We will ride until the next shelter of trees, and to my memory, it is not too far away. There, we shall rest."
Halas bowed as he could, on his horse, and trotted back to the end. Theodred's gaze lingered upon the man. He knew naught what it was, but Elentari had taken a liking to Halas, and when he had asked her why, she had answered, "I like his candor, how he won't hide anything from you. If he has something to say, he'll say it, without coloring it with pretty wiles and words that are meant to soften the bad news. I grew up in court and I know that it is rare to come across this quality."
To his word, Theodred signaled a halt at the next shelter, and while some men scouted the surrounding area for danger, others prepared some food and refreshments. After ensuring that everything was fine, Theodred sat down beside his bride.
She offered a faint smile, which he returned, and he asked, "How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" he eyed her dubiously.
"Don't look at me that way," her voice was playful.
"Halas said you were tiring," he looked worried, for Halas had also privately confronted him, worriedly, telling him that her strength seemed less with each passing day. They had entered the realm of Rohan, and were making steady progress towards Edoras, but he himself had also noticed the rapid deterioration of her health, as much as she tried to cover it.
"Halas worries overmuch," she smiled.
"Yet he does not worry without reason," Theodred replied.
She sighed, "I'm fine, Theodred. You sound like Faramir."
"Is that not a good thing?" he questioned, and she looked at him puzzledly. "Those that worry about you love you the most."
"Sometimes it is those that love us that hurt us the most," she twisted his words against him.
"Ai, you're right, but it shows that they do, indeed, love you." For this, Elentari had no answers, merely closed her eyes. As she held her head in her hands, hunched over, her knees supporting her, he placed a hand on her shoulder, and with the other, carefully lifted her chin up.
"I know you're tired," Theodred stroked her cheek gently, and she felt eerie shivers running through her, "But I'm afraid it's something more."
"It is nothing, my Lord," she murmured, pressing her lips against his hand, yet feeling it was out of place.
"If you say so," but she could tell he wasn't convinced. She had, indeed, felt light-headed at times, and the constant riding had surprisingly, been quite a toll on her, which she did not feel as natural. Though she never had experience with riding at days at a time, it was something she enjoyed, and had never before tired from. Yet she merely dismissed it as a side effect of moving for so long, and she had never been so far away from home. No. This is your home now; Rohan, not Gondor.
They rode on, after a short rest, and Halas kept fussing over her, insisting that she had not eaten enough, or that she looked too pale. Finally, she snapped, "Halas! I'm fine!" Seeing the stricken look upon his face, she softened, "Listen. I know you meant well, and I really appreciate your concern, but just let me ask you this. The first time we spoke, you told me that you had a young wife and a newborn, along with your elderly mother." Halas nodded, "Do your wife and mother fuss over you so?"
"My mother used to, when I was a child, my Lady," Halas replied, still a bit apprehensive.
"You know you needn't address me in that title when we're alone," she said for the umpteenth time, but knew that Halas would not abide, "But how did you feel when your mother did that?"
Halas thought about it for a moment, and answered, "Like a young child, and I kept insisting that I was too grown for that kind of treatment."
"Exactly. Now you understand my point?"
Halas hated the way that she could always prove him wrong, especially using his own words, but nodded, "Yes, my La--, I mean, Elentari," but he felt uncomfortable just calling her that, so he added, "Miss."
She smiled at his hesitation, especially when he added, "I'm sorry, miss. I'm just worried that if you need something, you won't ask for it."
"Thank you for being so considerate," and he could tell that she meant it, "And I assure you, if I want something, I'll go out of my way to have it." Pity, the thing I want most is something I'm going farther away from every passing moment.
"How far are we from Rohan?" she asked.
He chuckled a bit, "We are in Rohan, my Lady, I mean Elentari. We are about two days away from Edoras, the way we're going now. I know Theoden King will be eager to meet you, and young Lady Eowyn. It will be nice for her to have another one of you womenfolk in the Hall with her, if you don't mind me saying so."
They rode on till dusk, and started very early the next morning, and witnessed, as Elentari said, "The most beautiful sunrise." It had only been a few hours until Elentari, as Halas put it, "Simply dozed off on her horse," but after informing Theodred and ensuring that she wouldn't fall off, which Talcalina would never allow, they rode on.
Starting early in the morning allowed them to set up camp early, by a beautiful lake, little more than a day's ride from Edoras, and they felt very secure against any attacks. Elentari had not awoken, and Theodred had lifted her gently off Talcalina, carried her in his arms to an awning his men had set up, and placed her on a few layers of blankets. She had felt so light in his arms, too light for what she should weigh, but as he watched her sleeping, her chest rising and falling with each intake of breath, he could not bear to wake her, and marveled at how beautiful, yet fragile, she looked, like a precious gem, so beautiful and delicate, shining radiantly, but can easily shatter, losing all its light.
Watching her, he lost track of time, and soon, the Sun began to descend. He wondered if he should wake her, for she had been asleep for a very long time, and had been rather still, and if it had not been for her soft breathing, he would have been worried if she was still here with them.
Finally, she whispered a name, though he could not hear it. He grasped her hand, and strained his ears intently, trying to catch what she said. "Fara— she didn't finish her word, but he could guess whom she was calling for. Yet he dismissed it after some brief thought.
When he looked down at her again, she was smiling faintly, her eyes open just enough that he could tell that she was awake.
"Good morning," he smiled at her.
"What time is it?" she groaned, stretching her arms.
"Nearing dusk. What happened to the 'I'm not tired' statement that you kept issuing?" There was a good-natured glint in his eyes and a smile curving at the side of his lips.
She stretched again, and yawning said, "I dreamt. I'd forgotten we were riding. I was dreaming, dreaming of a time when all of us, Boromir, Faramir, and I, visited Dol Amroth." Yet she did not elaborate this memory to him.
Once she had finally decided to rise, he pulled her up, and murmured, "Come with me." But then, he stopped again, and pulled out a piece of cloth.
"May I?" he motioned to tie it on her.
"Now Theodred, what is so special that it requires me to walk blindly?" she asked, though gave her consent.
Once he ensured that the blindfold was tight enough, and had to test to see if she could see anything, he took her hands, and guided her forward.
"Are you sure you're not leading me into an Orc ambush or something?" she mused, trying to see through the cloth.
"Well, you should trust me," Theodred replied. Elentari heard the splashing of water nearby, and smiled. Theodred bid her to stop, and gently removed the cloth, though making her swear that she would keep her eyes shut until he told her otherwise.
"Now." Elentari gasped as the breath-taking sight greeted her, as Theodred grinned triumphantly. The lake was in resplendent grandeur reflecting beneath the myriad of colors of the sunset. The soft tones of blue and lilac were interwoven with the fiery shades of red, orange, and fading yellow. The light hit the water at a perfect angle, shimmering the outline of the sun, and Elentari felt she had never seen anything that beautiful, save once, in Dol Amroth, of which she had dreamed.
"Faramir! Where are you going?" Imrahil questioned his adolescent nephew.
"We were thinking about going out, onto the lake," Faramir answered, a faint tremble in his voice.
"Who's 'we'?" Imrahil asked, a bit skeptically.
"Isilmë and I. We were planning to go to that place where all the willows drape over the lake."
"Oh," Imrahil ceded, "Be back for dinner." Faramir grinned once his uncle was out of sight. He ran to the dock, where she was already waiting for him.
"Took you long enough," she teased.
"Uncle stopped me," Faramir replied, "Put me through a full interrogation."
Isilmë shook her head. They had been so young then, five years ago. She was sixteen, and he, just before his twentieth birthday, insisting that he was a man. Seeing this lake stirred the vivid, beloved memory from deep within her.
"Will you help me row?" Faramir barked at her as he guided the boat.
"No."
"Why not?" he was sweating.
"Because I like to admire the beauty of the water," and she meant it, "And besides, I love watching you toil and sweat."
"Brat," he murmured to himself, barely audibly.
"What did you call me?" she looked positively affronted.
"You heard me," he had an impish grin upon his face, and before she could react, he had reached into the water, and splashed water all over her. She screamed, and before long, they both launched into a water attack. He pelted her relentlessly, until her dress was soaked through and through.
Finally, they held a truce, and he continued to row, and Isilmë held a paddle in her hand, occasionally dipping it into the water, so to avoid Faramir's scowls. She felt the grazing of a willow strand upon her back. They entered the canopy of majestic, ageless trees, and she admired their transcendent beauty. Yet above the timeless trees, the songs of the sweet birds, and even the inviting water, she marveled at him the most. She blushed as she noticed him regarding her as well, and asked, "Why do you look at me that way?"
"I can never get over how beautiful you are," he replied, no embarrassment coloring him, for he was merely stating what he believed to be a fact, "I want to capture this moment in my mind forever, the song of the birds, how your hair is disheveled from all the water, yet still frames your face marvelously, the way your eyes gaze at me from beneath those lashes, matching the color of the water, making me want you, enticing me to spring off of my seat into your arms." She smiled, tears of delight in her eyes, but right when she had ventured into another world, she was jerked back, as cold water splashed all over her. She looked up to see Faramir grinning, and before she could realize what happened, they were already into the fight. The next thing she knew, she was plummeted into the cold water.
"FARAMIR!!" she screamed, as she saw him grinning smugly, comparatively dry, from the small boat, "I'll have your head for this!"
"I am waiting, my Lady," he mocked a bow, "Yet I do not see—he hadn't finished when he too, joined her in the summer water. The first thing she heard when he resurfaced was, "That's it," as he swam towards her viciously, forcing her head beneath the water.
Once they had finished attempting to torment one another, they crawled back, totally soaked, into the overturned boat, and lay there, exhausted, in each other's arms.
"Isilmë?" he faintly murmured into her neck.
"Mmhm?"
"Look," he pointed up into the sky. Two butterflies were skittering across the blue horizon, sometimes together, sometimes apart, flirting with one another, enticing the other to come nearer. Yet in the end, they joined, flying as one, bound by love.
"I love you," he kissed her neck.
"And I, you," she moaned as pleasure swept through her.
Theodred had been watching her; her eyes distant and dreamy, and he knew that she was lost in some far off memory, one that he was not in. Suddenly however, she jerked back, and offered him another smile, yet this one was tainted by nostalgia.
"Care to share what you were thinking of?" Theodred asked, once they were seated at the edge of the lake, her eyes never leaving the shining surface.
She shook her head, "Merely reliving a memory long gone."
"Happier times," it was more to himself than to her. She nodded, and turned to see him smiling at her.
"Let us enjoy what the men have cooked up tonight," Theodred proposed, and Elentari groaned. She could only hope that the women of Rohan could cook better than the men could, for if they didn't, she couldn't see how they had survived all these years. Halas and Theodred had not allowed her to cook however, and she was secretly relieved, for she had never enjoyed the arduous task.
"Come now, not so loud!" Theodred chastised mischievously, "They can hear you! You'll hurt their feelings, even if it is the truth." She pushed him playfully, her laughter ringing in Rohan for the first time.
As they ate, gazing out into the transcendent beauty of the lake meeting with the sun, she remembered other times, but reminded herself that, there is no use reminding yourself of what you once had, making yourself forgetful of what you have now, until that is gone, too.
A/N: I know some of the dialogue is rather "modern" if you will it, but I just didn't feel like changing it. Anybody catch the symbolism with the butterflies? I don't know. I just felt like writing it. Does it even make sense? Review! If any of you become impatient with my lack of updates since I'm gone for the next three weeks, just remember this: I promise to update this story at least 4 times a week once I get back and I'm going to post a lot of poetry! Review! Thanks!