Post by The Pilot on Sept 21, 2007 11:32:02 GMT -5
Narthas decided that he wanted a good meal before going back on the road again, and so the two of them sat down at a table in the tavern portion of the Old Guesthouse. Lauren took the opportunity to write a letter for Nicole while the elf stuffed his face.
“Dear Nicole & company-
I hope you guys made it to Greenwood the Great in one piece! It was a tough journey for us, and we ran into lots of exciting things along the way. How are you? I’m doing pretty well. I got a bit of a cut on my stomach, but nothing too bad. We ran into a couple of rowdy fans on our way east from Edoras, but Narthas and a few friends we made on the journey took care of them.
I’m getting new spiffy clothes made, thanks to Nori. I was thinking that I might have the seamstress work in the logo of a fountain and some stars on it, you know? Cause my poor elf’s grandfather was the leader of the house of the fountain. You probably don’t remember that, but now you know. Ecthelion of Gondolin. Look him up sometime in those Halls of yours.
How are you holding up without technology so far? I know I miss my computer and games a bit, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. If we need some serious fixes though, we can always go pay another visit to the Barns & Noble, haha. I’m sure Mika would love to see us again. Actually, now that my mind’s on the subject, I just remembered that there’s a secret fan-only club here in Minas Tirith. I haven’t been to it yet, but Narthas has hinted at the fact that it’s outfitted with modern stuff of sorts. Once he gives me the directions, I’ll be sure to write you promptly and tell you what it’s like.
Oops! At any rate, this damn elf is done eating and wants to get back on the road. He’s heading out west for a few days while I go live with Faramir. Sounds crazy, I know, but I’ll fill you in later.
LUV U 4EVA GRL,
-Lo-Lo”
She took the paper, folded it into fours, and stuffed it into the small envelope. Almost prepared to lick the glue on the back to seal it, Lauren was surprised to find there was no such strip. Reaching into her pack, she drew out the yellow sealing wax, held it up to the single candle that adorned their table, and let it drip onto the back of the envelope.
“Forgotten to buy a seal, I deem?” the elf asked when she saw her hesitate for a moment, wondering what to do with the small puddle of wax.
“Well, damn,” she muttered, and then reached out and smooshed the wax with the pad of her thumb. “There. As individual a seal as any, eh?”
Narthas took the envelope from her and studied the back before setting it down again. “I can’t think up anything more individual than a fingerprint. Here. I’ll mail that for you.” He took it again, then handed it back to her. “It would help if the messenger knew who the recipient was.”
“Oh, right.” She took back the paper and scrawled on the front:
N.C.M.
Mirkwood; Tharanduil’s Realm
“Much better,” he nodded. “Now let’s go.”
They paid their bill, and the elf paid Denlan for their night as well. The two chatted for a minute before Narthas excused them both, announcing that he was in a bit of a rush. They fetched their horses, saddled up, and led the beasts by the reigns to the front gate before mounting.
“All right, little one,” he addressed her in the proper code seeing as how there were many people still within earshot at they rode away from the city. “Your path will take you south from here. Mine lies northward, in the wood as you know. To follow me and then turn southward again would be a foolish waste of time, so here we do part ways.”
“And of my new companion?”
“I shall send him for you.”
They were riding now at a slow walk down the dirt road through the townsteads outside the city, but still within the walls of the Rammas. The people were fewer the farther from the outer wall they were, and so their conversation continued on in a far less cumbersome speech- at least for Lauren.
“Kay, so I’m going to where Faramir lives,” she confirmed. “Which is in Ithilien?”
“Correct.”
“And where in Ithilien is he?”
“He lives on the rise of Emyn Arnen, not 20 miles from here. Technically, he’s southeast, so he’s across the river as well.”
“Well, duh. The river is the border of Ithilien, north and south.”
Narthas chuckled. “You are smarter than you look. Do you still have your map that they gave you?”
Lauren turned around in her saddle as far as she could to rummage through the bags. “Here it is,” she said, holding up the worn and partially-crumpled pamphlet. Narthas took it from her and looked it over.
“You know? This is the first time I’ve gotten hold of one of these,” he said, eyes passing over the page of rules. “Hmm… mass produced, too, it seems,” he mumbled, looking over the pages printed with ink. “Nothing of a technological nature is permitted to leave the borders of any elf kingdom,” he recited. A few more moments of reading, and he turned the page. “Hmm. Did you read this page?” The elf gestured to the heading that read ‘Terms and Conditions’.
“Not really, no. In fact, I don’t remember even seeing that page.”
“Well, it was stuck to another page, so you probably skipped over it without realizing.”
“What does it say?” The girl was loth to know.
The elf knitted his brows and narrowed his eyes as he read the small letters covering the paper. “Well,” he began. “In the first section here, it says that DERIF retains the right to arrest and imprison any fan with probable cause.” A pause. “What? It also says that fans do not retain the right to a fair trial before imprisonment. Hmm…” Another pause. “Fans may also be subject to expulsion from Arda if such doom is agreed upon by the Council.”
“What Council?”
Narthas screwed up his face as he thought, eyes going from the words before him to the road ahead and back. At length, he shook his head and let out a curt sigh. “I don’t know. I’m supposed to know these kinds of things. Elrond pulled me aside when they were still building the bookstore in preparation for you guys, and told me what was going down.
“He told me that change and strange beginnings were upon Middle-earth that weren’t even under the control of the Valar or any force of evil that they could perceive. Children were coming, journeying here from a place far beyond circles of this world to live here in peace.”
“Why would he tell you what was going on?”
“Because he had to inform all of the Elves what was going on, even the ones that he doesn’t like. What he told me, though, was different from what he told others in one way: at the end he told me not to screw it up.” The elf laughed to himself.
Lauren laughed too. “Ah, so you’ve got a rep, I see, with the older generations.”
“Quite honestly, yes, I do! There aren’t too many that are older than I am, though. Celeborn, Galadriel, and Cirdan are the only three I can think of at the moment. I’ve spoken a little with Celeborn and Galadriel, but not with Cirdan. I haven’t ever spent much time in those parts. But Elrond… yes, Elrond knows me mostly because of Aragorn and his relationship with the family of Stewards. That, and I lived in Rivendell for a short while. But yes, he knows about me. He’s got this idea in his head of my being a sly troublemaker with selfish motives, and who hates the Eldar and all that they stand for.”
The girl shrugged and ran a hand through her hair. “Well, all of that’s true, isn’t it?”
“Oh, screw you,” he chuckled, swatting at her. “I may be sly, and I may be a troublemaker, and I may not fully appreciate the Elvish manifesto, but I am most certainly not selfish.”
“I suppose not…”
Lauren got a good look at the old elf, sitting tall, but relaxed in his saddle, robed in rich charcoal. His skin wasn’t pale like the other elves, but golden with the testament to his life as a transient. Delicate lines were his only sign of aging, gently creasing the skin between his brows and the corners of his mouth. She imagined him as a youth; rich of tone, and fiery. Everything about his character must have been sharp and bright. She imagined his hair being a lighter, ruddy brown, cascading down his shoulders in full locks-- nothing like the rich bronze of his crown now, sheared just past the chin.
“Nar… thas,” she absently mumbled. “Nor… thas…”
“What was that?” The voice broke her all-consuming thought.
Lauren took a double-take and blinked. “Oh, uh, nothing,” she lied. “I have one question if you don‘t mind, though.”
“Go ahead.”
“Does your name mean ‘fire-giver’, too?”
The elf studied her curiously before answering. “In one translation, yes. Why?”
“No reason, just asking.” She shrugged and looked away. “You need to draw me that map, remember? So I know where I’m going?”
“Oh, right, right. Sorry, but I forget trivial things easily,” he joked. He flipped through the pamphlet to the back where there were several blank pages reserved for “notes”. “Pull over here,” the elf said. “And let me borrow your quill and ink. I’ve got a map to draw up for you.”
The girl twisted around in the saddle where they stopped and yanked out a small satchel housing her precious marking implements. The elf smoothed the bound papers down on his knee and with care, began to draw. His lines were confident and clean, and it was obvious that he was skilled with that medium. The Anduin River, Mindolluin, Minas Tirith, the Rammas Echor, Emyn Arnen, and all the roads and towns in between.
“There.” He looked at his doodle (beautifully done in Lauren’s mind), blowing gently on it to dry the ink. “No legend, but like I said, it’s about 20 miles from Minas Tirith as the crow flies.” He held the pamphlet out to Lauren, who took it.
After studying it for a brief moment, the girl nodded in approval. “Easy enough to understand. Thanks, man!”
They flashed each other warm smiles, and continued on their way.
The Rammas Echor came upon them. In the daylight, the great wall didn’t lose any of its grandeur, instead hued in pale gold and silvery whites rather than the ash and orange of it at night. The town here huddled near the enormous eastern-facing gate, desperately seeking to pull traffic in. There was significantly more people here than the stretch of agrarian road they had just been on for the past 40 minutes, however. The two riders guided their horses out the gate, pausing just outside.
“So this is where we part ways,” the elf said.
“Ah, but just for now. How will Hound find me?”
“I shall speak with him of it. Their kind is smart enough, I deem, and with many tricks up their sleeves. He will know what to do, no doubt.”
The young ranger nodded. Motioning for Miril to get closer to Narthas’s horse, she leaned over and hugged him. “I’m officially on my own now,” she said a hushed voice.
He patted her head. “You’re a big kid. For everything that I’ve seen you do so far, this should be nothing.”
“True.. I was gutted after all. And besides, I’ll see you again in a few days.” She inhaled deeply and sat up straight in her saddle again.
The elf laughed lightly. “That you were, and that you will.”
“Farewell, Narthas, son of reason! I hope to see you again before the end of days!” The elf looked at her with raised eyebrows, but Lauren saw understanding creep into his mind, and suddenly the end of Middle-earth as they knew it didn’t seem like such a farfetched idea after all.
“A greater honor it would be to me,” he said. “That I should find myself in the company of such brave a soldier before that time. Farewell, Fealai!”
And just before she could do anything to stop it, the two of them rode off in opposite directions, and for the first time since being in Middle-earth, Lauren was unsure of herself.
“Dear Nicole & company-
I hope you guys made it to Greenwood the Great in one piece! It was a tough journey for us, and we ran into lots of exciting things along the way. How are you? I’m doing pretty well. I got a bit of a cut on my stomach, but nothing too bad. We ran into a couple of rowdy fans on our way east from Edoras, but Narthas and a few friends we made on the journey took care of them.
I’m getting new spiffy clothes made, thanks to Nori. I was thinking that I might have the seamstress work in the logo of a fountain and some stars on it, you know? Cause my poor elf’s grandfather was the leader of the house of the fountain. You probably don’t remember that, but now you know. Ecthelion of Gondolin. Look him up sometime in those Halls of yours.
How are you holding up without technology so far? I know I miss my computer and games a bit, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. If we need some serious fixes though, we can always go pay another visit to the Barns & Noble, haha. I’m sure Mika would love to see us again. Actually, now that my mind’s on the subject, I just remembered that there’s a secret fan-only club here in Minas Tirith. I haven’t been to it yet, but Narthas has hinted at the fact that it’s outfitted with modern stuff of sorts. Once he gives me the directions, I’ll be sure to write you promptly and tell you what it’s like.
Oops! At any rate, this damn elf is done eating and wants to get back on the road. He’s heading out west for a few days while I go live with Faramir. Sounds crazy, I know, but I’ll fill you in later.
LUV U 4EVA GRL,
-Lo-Lo”
She took the paper, folded it into fours, and stuffed it into the small envelope. Almost prepared to lick the glue on the back to seal it, Lauren was surprised to find there was no such strip. Reaching into her pack, she drew out the yellow sealing wax, held it up to the single candle that adorned their table, and let it drip onto the back of the envelope.
“Forgotten to buy a seal, I deem?” the elf asked when she saw her hesitate for a moment, wondering what to do with the small puddle of wax.
“Well, damn,” she muttered, and then reached out and smooshed the wax with the pad of her thumb. “There. As individual a seal as any, eh?”
Narthas took the envelope from her and studied the back before setting it down again. “I can’t think up anything more individual than a fingerprint. Here. I’ll mail that for you.” He took it again, then handed it back to her. “It would help if the messenger knew who the recipient was.”
“Oh, right.” She took back the paper and scrawled on the front:
N.C.M.
Mirkwood; Tharanduil’s Realm
“Much better,” he nodded. “Now let’s go.”
They paid their bill, and the elf paid Denlan for their night as well. The two chatted for a minute before Narthas excused them both, announcing that he was in a bit of a rush. They fetched their horses, saddled up, and led the beasts by the reigns to the front gate before mounting.
“All right, little one,” he addressed her in the proper code seeing as how there were many people still within earshot at they rode away from the city. “Your path will take you south from here. Mine lies northward, in the wood as you know. To follow me and then turn southward again would be a foolish waste of time, so here we do part ways.”
“And of my new companion?”
“I shall send him for you.”
They were riding now at a slow walk down the dirt road through the townsteads outside the city, but still within the walls of the Rammas. The people were fewer the farther from the outer wall they were, and so their conversation continued on in a far less cumbersome speech- at least for Lauren.
“Kay, so I’m going to where Faramir lives,” she confirmed. “Which is in Ithilien?”
“Correct.”
“And where in Ithilien is he?”
“He lives on the rise of Emyn Arnen, not 20 miles from here. Technically, he’s southeast, so he’s across the river as well.”
“Well, duh. The river is the border of Ithilien, north and south.”
Narthas chuckled. “You are smarter than you look. Do you still have your map that they gave you?”
Lauren turned around in her saddle as far as she could to rummage through the bags. “Here it is,” she said, holding up the worn and partially-crumpled pamphlet. Narthas took it from her and looked it over.
“You know? This is the first time I’ve gotten hold of one of these,” he said, eyes passing over the page of rules. “Hmm… mass produced, too, it seems,” he mumbled, looking over the pages printed with ink. “Nothing of a technological nature is permitted to leave the borders of any elf kingdom,” he recited. A few more moments of reading, and he turned the page. “Hmm. Did you read this page?” The elf gestured to the heading that read ‘Terms and Conditions’.
“Not really, no. In fact, I don’t remember even seeing that page.”
“Well, it was stuck to another page, so you probably skipped over it without realizing.”
“What does it say?” The girl was loth to know.
The elf knitted his brows and narrowed his eyes as he read the small letters covering the paper. “Well,” he began. “In the first section here, it says that DERIF retains the right to arrest and imprison any fan with probable cause.” A pause. “What? It also says that fans do not retain the right to a fair trial before imprisonment. Hmm…” Another pause. “Fans may also be subject to expulsion from Arda if such doom is agreed upon by the Council.”
“What Council?”
Narthas screwed up his face as he thought, eyes going from the words before him to the road ahead and back. At length, he shook his head and let out a curt sigh. “I don’t know. I’m supposed to know these kinds of things. Elrond pulled me aside when they were still building the bookstore in preparation for you guys, and told me what was going down.
“He told me that change and strange beginnings were upon Middle-earth that weren’t even under the control of the Valar or any force of evil that they could perceive. Children were coming, journeying here from a place far beyond circles of this world to live here in peace.”
“Why would he tell you what was going on?”
“Because he had to inform all of the Elves what was going on, even the ones that he doesn’t like. What he told me, though, was different from what he told others in one way: at the end he told me not to screw it up.” The elf laughed to himself.
Lauren laughed too. “Ah, so you’ve got a rep, I see, with the older generations.”
“Quite honestly, yes, I do! There aren’t too many that are older than I am, though. Celeborn, Galadriel, and Cirdan are the only three I can think of at the moment. I’ve spoken a little with Celeborn and Galadriel, but not with Cirdan. I haven’t ever spent much time in those parts. But Elrond… yes, Elrond knows me mostly because of Aragorn and his relationship with the family of Stewards. That, and I lived in Rivendell for a short while. But yes, he knows about me. He’s got this idea in his head of my being a sly troublemaker with selfish motives, and who hates the Eldar and all that they stand for.”
The girl shrugged and ran a hand through her hair. “Well, all of that’s true, isn’t it?”
“Oh, screw you,” he chuckled, swatting at her. “I may be sly, and I may be a troublemaker, and I may not fully appreciate the Elvish manifesto, but I am most certainly not selfish.”
“I suppose not…”
Lauren got a good look at the old elf, sitting tall, but relaxed in his saddle, robed in rich charcoal. His skin wasn’t pale like the other elves, but golden with the testament to his life as a transient. Delicate lines were his only sign of aging, gently creasing the skin between his brows and the corners of his mouth. She imagined him as a youth; rich of tone, and fiery. Everything about his character must have been sharp and bright. She imagined his hair being a lighter, ruddy brown, cascading down his shoulders in full locks-- nothing like the rich bronze of his crown now, sheared just past the chin.
“Nar… thas,” she absently mumbled. “Nor… thas…”
“What was that?” The voice broke her all-consuming thought.
Lauren took a double-take and blinked. “Oh, uh, nothing,” she lied. “I have one question if you don‘t mind, though.”
“Go ahead.”
“Does your name mean ‘fire-giver’, too?”
The elf studied her curiously before answering. “In one translation, yes. Why?”
“No reason, just asking.” She shrugged and looked away. “You need to draw me that map, remember? So I know where I’m going?”
“Oh, right, right. Sorry, but I forget trivial things easily,” he joked. He flipped through the pamphlet to the back where there were several blank pages reserved for “notes”. “Pull over here,” the elf said. “And let me borrow your quill and ink. I’ve got a map to draw up for you.”
The girl twisted around in the saddle where they stopped and yanked out a small satchel housing her precious marking implements. The elf smoothed the bound papers down on his knee and with care, began to draw. His lines were confident and clean, and it was obvious that he was skilled with that medium. The Anduin River, Mindolluin, Minas Tirith, the Rammas Echor, Emyn Arnen, and all the roads and towns in between.
“There.” He looked at his doodle (beautifully done in Lauren’s mind), blowing gently on it to dry the ink. “No legend, but like I said, it’s about 20 miles from Minas Tirith as the crow flies.” He held the pamphlet out to Lauren, who took it.
After studying it for a brief moment, the girl nodded in approval. “Easy enough to understand. Thanks, man!”
They flashed each other warm smiles, and continued on their way.
The Rammas Echor came upon them. In the daylight, the great wall didn’t lose any of its grandeur, instead hued in pale gold and silvery whites rather than the ash and orange of it at night. The town here huddled near the enormous eastern-facing gate, desperately seeking to pull traffic in. There was significantly more people here than the stretch of agrarian road they had just been on for the past 40 minutes, however. The two riders guided their horses out the gate, pausing just outside.
“So this is where we part ways,” the elf said.
“Ah, but just for now. How will Hound find me?”
“I shall speak with him of it. Their kind is smart enough, I deem, and with many tricks up their sleeves. He will know what to do, no doubt.”
The young ranger nodded. Motioning for Miril to get closer to Narthas’s horse, she leaned over and hugged him. “I’m officially on my own now,” she said a hushed voice.
He patted her head. “You’re a big kid. For everything that I’ve seen you do so far, this should be nothing.”
“True.. I was gutted after all. And besides, I’ll see you again in a few days.” She inhaled deeply and sat up straight in her saddle again.
The elf laughed lightly. “That you were, and that you will.”
“Farewell, Narthas, son of reason! I hope to see you again before the end of days!” The elf looked at her with raised eyebrows, but Lauren saw understanding creep into his mind, and suddenly the end of Middle-earth as they knew it didn’t seem like such a farfetched idea after all.
“A greater honor it would be to me,” he said. “That I should find myself in the company of such brave a soldier before that time. Farewell, Fealai!”
And just before she could do anything to stop it, the two of them rode off in opposite directions, and for the first time since being in Middle-earth, Lauren was unsure of herself.
