Again, msg839 many thanks for the kind review! And yes the mention of the ears was definitively intentional.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, setting or plots of the Silmarillion or any other related works by Tolkien.
Enjoy!
ChapterSix
When Breor had finally decided to stop and wait for Balan and Emlir to catch up with them, he barked at Amlath to keep watch and carefully approached Andreth.
She avoided his worried gaze focusing all of her attention on the gelding she had been given to ride on their journey. She ran her fingers through his soft coat, seeking comfort from the calm creature.
Amid his many worried glances, an old memory had come back to her.
With fondness she recalled how Bregor and she would nickname him the old Bear, for his imposing size and stern demeanour, but now the old Bear revealed himself as a protective mother bear.
Balan and Emlir joined them at sunset. She could not tell how long they had waited.
It could have been only a few minutes or three hours she couldn't tell.
Boron, as she decided to call her horse, for his reliable and strong steps, seemed to become annoyed by her constant petting. Jerking his head away, he tried to avoid her fingers.
Reluctantly she left him his space, without his distraction she was forced to acknowledge the dark woods around them.
The surrounding trees, still mostly bare from the recent winter months, seemed to reach high into the sky, blocking out the last remnants of daylight.
A cold chill ran down her back as the night set slowly in. Every child knew that the night brought monsters and terrors. At night the dark enemy reigned.
Breor brought her dry bread and cold meat, explaining that they couldn't risk a fire to give away their presence. She barely managed to eat the meagre rations, every bite she took tasted like bile.
However, as Breor continued to fuss around her and his worry became more and more apparent, she forced herself to swallow and eat the rest of her portion.
Slowly she started taking notice of her companions. Amlath was keeping watch at the edge of their small camp, while Balan and Emlir seemed busy gulfing down their food. Despite the familiarity of their small camp, it was near impossible not to feel the tensions lying over all of them.
Having finished her food, she reached for her beddings fastened to the back of Boron's saddle.
'No', Breor told her, 'We are only resting shortly to eat. We are travelling through the night.'
At her bewildered look he responded softly:
'Balan and Emlir found tracks of at least ten orcs. But there was only one dead orc. They could still be around, and we don't want to be surprised by them at night. Not with you to worry about.'
Andreth felt herself grow cold again. There could be nine orcs running around, waiting to kill them. Hack them all to pieces as they did these poor messengers.
Sensing her shock Breor went further to explain to her that orcs did not ride. On horseback they would be able to outrun them with ease.
Putting his large, ruff hand on hers he told her in a calming voice.
'Don't fret Andreth. Travelling through the night will mean that by tomorrow you will be home again.'
She managed a small smile at his efforts to comfort her.
It conjured a vague memory of how her father would tuck her into bed when she was afraid of the dark of night.
In a way this was much the same. She was afraid of the dark now too…
But this time it was not the dark of dreams and the monsters of children's tales that she dreaded but the dark of the night. There were real monsters with real blades hiding in the shadows of the trees.
After everyone had finished their meal, they all mounted back up and continued their travel through the dark woods. Almost wistfully she thought of how the peaceful calm of the forest could turn to maliciousness over the course of only half a day.
As the sun rose high over the treetops, bathing the world into a warm golden sheen, their company rode through the small wooden gate into the courtyard of her childhood home.
Since making her decision, Andreth had imagined what it would be like to return home. To step into her old home. What she would see. How it would smell. Who would be there to greet her?
A strange measure of disappointment took hold of her as she took in the homestead of the chieftain of the House of Beor.
Despite its relative grandeur compared to her uncle's house it seemed small… almost common.
The wide courtyard was clean and orderly, but nearly empty. A few people were hurrying over the wide empty place, busy with their morning duties.
It was strange. Andreth had imagined all of it to feel familiar, to feel like home. However, despite all her memories of this place, it seemed foreign and strange.
As they reached the middle of the courtyard and dismounted, people started to take notice. They must have recognised Breor and realised who they were, who she was…
she could not believe that somebody would recognise her.
Slowly the realisation sept in that she would meet her family now.
Seeking comfort again, she began stroking her fingers through Boron's thick mane.
When some of the stable boys stepped forward guiding their horses away towards the stables, she began to fiddle with the wooden clasp of her cloak, nervously trying to evade any of the glances thrown her way.
No. Stop it.
She chided herself as the memory of her father rose in her mind.
Him sitting next to her sending her to sleep, telling her he will send her away. She had been a little girl then.
But she was not one now! Taking a deep she forced her hands down, clasping them together, she raised her chin, to imitate Adanel's dignified posture. Looking up to the door of the main hall, she had to force herself to remain calm.
Her father was standing on the steps leading up to the entrance. Slightly behind him stood a young girl with rosy cheeks and dark hair. Beril.
With a growing sense of dread, she watched them walk towards her. Determined not to show her nerves she stood still watching them wordlessly.
When her father came to stand before her. She realised with some surprise that the man before her was nowhere near the imposing figure she remembered.
He was barely a head taller than her, his face tired and worn and grey speckled his temples.
'Andreth'
The warmth and fondness which filled his voice nearly overwhelmed her.
'Father… I-'
Before she could even find her next words, he pulled her into a tight hug.
With a sense of wonder she realised that she recognised the warm comfort of his arms around her. For only a moment she felt the familiar comfort of home.
Slight disappointment filled her as he pulled away only after a short instance. Looking into her face he smiled.
'Welcome home, daughter!'
But before she could respond, she felt his attention shift. His gaze drifted to her left. She knew that Breor stood behind her, which was immediately confirmed when she heard his deep voice behind her.
'My Lord.'
Her father immediately walked over to the large man barely sparing her another glance.
The wonder and joy she had felt only a few moments before turned sour in her stomach.
She could have cried. Maybe she would have if they hadn't been in the courtyard in front of everybody.
Instead she swallowed the bitterness down again and gave Beril a small smile.
Her sister stood in front of her answering her with a nervous smile of her own.
Her long hair hung unkempt down her back, her warm amber eyes sparkling bright with joy.
'Welcome home, sister!', her excited words sounded shrill in Andreth's ears. unable to check her excitement Beril grabbed her hands tight.
'I've been waiting for so soo long to meet you! I wish father allowed me to travel, I would have visited you all the time, I swear…'
Giving her another mild smile, Andreth couldn't help but strain her ears to listen to her father and Breor's conversation.
'...Four men. They must have come from Hithlum… Dor-lómin or maybe Nevrast.'
Breor must be telling him about the dead messengers. Turning her head slightly she focused on her father's response.
'... entire region has been growing more dangerous… only yesterday… a rumour about orcs... We need to send for-'
Her concentration was immediately broken when Beril dropped her hands.
Belatedly she realised that her sister had fallen silent.
The young girl was nearly chewing on her lip. Guilt swept through Andreth as she realised her thoughtlessness, but before she could speak, Beril began:
'I'm sorry. I know I talk too much, but I was just so excited to see you and …'
Quickly she grabbed Beril's hands again, trying to reassure the younger girl.
'No! Please don't apologise. I'm just tired of the journey, we've ridden the entire night.'
Beril gave her a slight smile and nodded.
Stealing a look back to the house she asked:
'Where is Bregor?'
As Beril answered she couldn't help noticing the disappointment in her eyes, realising she had said the wrong thing.
'He is out on one of the patrols.'
Worry immediately flooded her, rushing through her like cold water. There were orcs out there in the forest. The image of the rotting corpse filled her mind. The open flesh grey from the cold filled with flies and maggots… Why would Bregor go outside of the homestead?
Trying to rein in her panic she let herself be ushered into the house by one of the servant women. Somewhere on the way she lost sight of Beril.
'Here, my lady.' The formal address with which the servant showed her the door to her room surprised her.
While in some part of her mind she knew it to be the proper way, uncle Belemir's household had been so small that nobody had really bothered with such formalities and when she still lived in this house she had been too young to be considered a lady.
Giving the waiting woman a courteous nod, she entered her room. As soon as the door closed behind her with a soft thud, she left out a long breath.
Unclasping her heavy cloak, she carelessly led it fall to the ground. Looking longingly at the bed she sat down in the chair next to the window, deciding not to sully the sheets with her muddy, travel worn clothes.
Tired she let her gaze trail over the quiet room. It was nearly empty besides the bed, heavy chest and small desk and the chair she was sitting on.
Even this room didn't seem to be able to kindle any of the familiar feelings of home she had wished for…
With a start she sat up straight. Blinking a few times as the light of the bright late afternoon sun shone into her eyes, she realised that she must have fallen asleep where she sat. Groaning she stretched her arms trying to ease the stiffness in her neck, no doubt a result from her sleeping position.
The soft noise seeping through the shutters seemed to raise slightly. The neighing of horses alerted her, leaning forward she pushed the shutters open looking down in the yard.
A group of riders had entered through the gate.
The figure next to the leader of the troop immediately caught her attention.
Bregor!
In an instance she recognised her brother. She stood so abruptly that her chair fell over. Ignoring the loud crash, she rushed through the door and hurried down the hall.
Breathlessly she entered the courtyard. In the time she needed to run outside, the horses of the patrol had been led to the stables. Frantically she looked around, searching for her brother…
There! As she spotted him, he turned around and caught her eyes.
Instantly his entire face lit up and she knew he recognised her.
Rushing forward she caught him in a hug. At his slightly surprised but joyful exclamation:
'Anny!', her heart immediately warmed.
She had nearly forgotten this old nickname only her brother used to call her.
Despite the strangeness of looking at the young man standing in place of the young ten-year-old boy she remembered, she finally felt the warm familiarity of home she had so desperately hoped for.
At this point Beril is 12 y/o and Bregor is 18 y/o.
Boron (Sindarin) – steadfast
Hithlum – region under Fingolfin's rule, situated to the left of Dorthonion, during the Long Peace the Edain of the House of Malach predominantly lived there
Dor-lómin and Nevrast – two smaller regions south of Hithlum