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on: July 19, 2015 05:22
Mosaic covered her mouth as she yawned, quickly realizing that it as rude. "I'm sorry," she said, turning to Eadwine's aunt and uncle. "Can you please show us to our rooms? We are weary with travel and want to get on our way as fast as possible."
We were one in the same, running like moths to the flame. You'd hang on every word I'd say, but now they only ricochet.
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on: July 20, 2015 05:10
Ithilwen stood and went to the kitchen while Eadwine's aunt showed her companions to their rooms. She prepared a calming tea of catnip and chamomile and poured two cups. When the motherly woman returned Ithilwen handed her a cup and took a sip from her own.
"I thank you for your great kindness to us. I am not sure what would have become of young Nymira had we not found your home when we did." After taking another sip of her tea she continued, "We must depart on the morrow, for we have delayed too long already in reaching Gondor."

Eadwine's aunt said nothing, only nodded her head slowly. Ithilwen noted the sad and far away look in the woman's eyes as she drank the rest of her tea in silence. The Elf rose to retire to bed, but paused to lay a hand on the woman's arm and said softly, "May peace return to you and to your home." She left the woman sitting at the table and went to the room she was to share with Nym and Mosaic. Lying down on her bedroll, her eyes traveled to piece of sky she could see from the window. A few bright stars shone down on her, and their comforting light was the last thing she saw before sleep claimed her weary mind.
"And I dreamed of seas and ships, and of waves crashing on the shore in the twilight of the world..." ~Song, member of the Realm of Ulmo
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on: July 20, 2015 08:07
Mosaic opened her eyes due to the crowing of a rooster. The sun was barely risen, but it was just light enough for the farm animals and other wildlife to mill about.

She sat up. Ithilwen and Nym still slept soundly, so she quietly changed out of her clothes and went downstairs into the kitchen.

No one else was up, either, so Mosaic quietly went to sit at the table by herself. A half empty tea cup sat on the edge of the table, so she quietly moved it off to the side.

A wrinkled pile of paper, sitting forgotten on the floor, caught her attwntion. Mosaic stood, quietly padded over to it, and picked up a sheet. She didn't want to root aroind and wake up everyone in her search for ink, so she simply dipped her hair into the cool tea, using it as a makeshift brush to draw her map.
We were one in the same, running like moths to the flame. You'd hang on every word I'd say, but now they only ricochet.
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on: July 25, 2015 04:50
The mumkil swung his head around, the spiked tusks ramming into the rider on his left. Durith was avoiding the stomping feet of the beast on his right. Arrows thudded into the thick gray hide yet the beast raged on. Spears rained down from the oddly shaped saddle of the mumkil where the Haradrim hid. They turned their horses around with the beast as it turned suddenly. He watched Durith fight a downed Haradrim, who ducked under the Rohirrim’s sword and drove a spear into the horse’s belly. Durith leaped as his horse fell and attacked with greater fury. The Haradrim drew his curved sword and met the angry Rohirrim. Durith stumbled over his dead horse’s body and fell, the Haradrim raised his sword laughing. Turning his horse he raced towards Durith hoping to get there in time. Just as he was about to push Swift in between his brother and the Haradrim a spear rammed into his leg, narrowly missing Swift’s head. He jerked at the reins unknowingly and Swift turned away from Durith. He fell off the saddle, the spear dragging him down, and he witnessed his brother’s decapitation. Blood stained the pale…
Eadwine woke with a start, cold sweat running down his forehead. It had been weeks since he had last had that nightmare, the grief had brought it back. He tried to fall asleep again but every time he closed his eyes the pictures came back. Sighing he stood up and crept out of the house, letting the night air clear away his black thoughts. He noticed Rovan sitting staring into the night.
“It is a cold night my friend,” he addressed him, “what brings you out at this hour?”

“Memories,” Rovan replied, staring up at the cold stars. Uncaring, unfeeling, they were there almost every night, observing the petty lives of those who crawled across the plains of the Middle-earth.

“Do you think they remember what they’ve seen?” he asked out aloud.

“Some will,” Eadwine answered, “those who have felt the War’s the hardest will remember it longer. But pain and hurt will fade, for some and all will be lost I fear except in what is said in songs. Do the faces still haunt you Rovan? Can you still see them?

Rovan looked sharply at the other man. Eadwine stood in the darkness, his outline barely visible against the pale light of the starlit night. His long-time friend had misunderstood the question, but that was no wonder. Rovan fimself hadn’t offered any introduction or explanation.

“They have never stopped,” he admitted quietly. “How did Cwen take it?”

“Hard, especially after Gytha’s death. Durith would have still been here if I had moved faster.”
He bit his lip and stared out into the trees.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it, Eadwine,” Rovan shook his head and got up to stand and try to look in his friend’s eyes. It was not easy to catch the other Rohirrim’s fleeting gaze, and it proved impossible to hold it, as Eadwine looked away. “War is war, and… things happen. Bad things.”

You don’t understand, I could have gotten there in time.”

Silence stood between them, only interrupted by the usual sounds of night. Little creatures were secretively bustling through the undergrowth, and an owl produced a warning hoot when something approached its hunting grounds.

“I still see her in my dreams,” Rovan surprised himself by saying it out loud, he had been barely admitting it to himself. “But her image is getting blurred, like she’s slipping away. And then I open my eyes, and for a moment I can’t remember what exactly her nose looked like, what was the sound of her voice. And it scares me.”

Eadwine sat down and subconsciously rubbed the old wound. He listened intently to Rovan.
“Remembering the good things you did together keeps the memories from fading to fast.” Eadwine comforted, “What was the best thing you did with her?”

Rovan blinked. The best thing? He realized he had been so caught up in mourning his loss, it had never occurred to him to remember the good times he had been given. Teh best thing… Instantly, one time in particular came back to him.

“It was some time after we had announced our engagement,” he stared at the dark lines of treetops against the starlit sky. “We took a ride in the plains, and lost the track of time. A heavy storm caught up with us, and we had to stop in a small grove and weather it. We were drenched to the bone, and sought each other’s closeness to keep ourselves warm.”

A shadow of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he surrendered to the memory.

“We returned the next day, under heavy rainfall. Faldin’s horse had torn its binds and run off during the night. Boy, was her father furious! He made me work double hard the entire moon afterwards, and I barely saw her. But even that was worth it.”

Rovan looked sideways at a very silent Eadwine. It did feel a little as if the weight had lifted. He reached out and put his hand on the other man’s shoulder.

“Faldin’s grandmother used to say: you can’t scoop up the water that’s been spilt. You can only hope it helps the grass grow. I know Faldin’s not coming back. And although I wish I had returned home earlier, so I would have the chance to try and save her… there is no way of knowing whether I could have. Maybe I would be dead now, laying next to her. I do not know. So I do the only thing I can – and that is to hunt down every bloody orc there is in Middle-earth to avenge her death. And that of countless other innocent victims. And perhaps, among those orcs who meet their end at the tip of my arrow, are those who took her life.” He squeezed Eadwine’s shoulder hoping his words would bring his friend some piece of mind.

“Perhaps,” Eadwine echoed. “Come, we need rest, tomorrow is a busy day and what will come of it I cannot say.”

The two friends retreated into the house and bedded down in the pallets prepared for them. The night grew deep along with their breaths.
Eadwine woke early the next morning as he was accustomed to. Restless, he pulled his boots on and left the house quietly. The morning chill seeped through his cloak, which he pulled around himself as he walked through the wet grass. This would be a fine day for passing through the mountains, the warm air before winter winds would render the pass favorable.

[Edited on 07/26/2015 by Cenor]
Image "Every good pirate has an alias" Felix glanced down, looking at contraption around the stump of his wrist. "Hook," he answered. "My name will be Hook."
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on: August 08, 2015 02:05
Golden light filtered through the trees as Nym walked through the forest. Above, the warm sun shone in a cloudless blue sky. Birds twittered softly in the trees. She sighed. 

She turned at the sound of her name being called, and saw to her surprise and delight – her father walking towards her. For a moment she didn't believe what she saw. Then she turned and ran into his arms. His rumbling chuckle filled her with joy. 


Nym awoke to someone gently shaking her shoulder and calling her name softly.


For a moment she kept her eyes shut, trying to recall the dream in perfect detail. She wasn't willing to come back to this reality – a throbbing arm and the guilt that comes with killing. 

She wished she could have lived on in innocence.

“Nymira,” the voice called again.

Finally, she gave up and opened her eyes. She smiled halfheartedly. “Good morning, Ithilwen.” she said tiredly. 

She went to rise, but was halted by the Elf maiden. Nym complied and laid down again while Ithilwen redressed her wound. 

When this task was completed and the Elven woman was satisfied, Nym rose. She passed by Mosaic who was bent over a paper, busily drawing something using her hair as a makeshift brush. Nym greeted her, then left the room. 

There was a large and well worn cloak hanging by the front door, which Nym took down using her good arm. It was a bit awkward to get into it without being able to use her dominate hand, but she managed. 

She opened the door that led outside and stepped into the cool morning light. Taking a deep breath of the chill air, Nym sat down on the steps of the porch and gazed at the land about her. She saw Rovan walking towards the house and called a greeting to him. When he had come within earshot she asked, "How are you feeling today?"

[Edited on 10/01/2015 by Mareth_Ravenlock]
~Llama Warrior of Nessa~ Sometimes, I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast. - Lewis Carrol
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