| Faramirs_first_kiss |
|
| Tasar_Took_Nualda |
|
| Nienna-of-the-Valar |
|
| LadyRanger |
|
| falather |
|
| Nienna-of-the-Valar |
 RE: Tournament at Tarnost
on: June 07, 2004 09:15
|
|
As Faemne made her way along the crowded streets someone let their horse bump into hers. She cursed the oaf's carelessness loudly and just managed to not let Stupid bump another horse to her side. The girl looked over and noticed the horse next to her was being led. It was a fine seeming horse, had a good nature about it. With curiosity she inspected the horse as they walked along. It did not seem to be in any way hurt nor lame. "There are many careless riders on the streets this day." She called to the young man leading the horse. "You would do well to be up in your saddle. Worse comes to worse 'tis better to be the one doing the trampling, not to be trampled upon."
Serondín had been trying to keep well enough out of the way of the others clogging the streets, but as he entered a more narrow pass, he was nearly pushed into a small cart that was parked in an interesting choice of spots. He was forced to lean closer to Surefoot as he skirted past it and he hoped that his bumping of the horse did not draw to him an unnecessary attention. His ears were having a hard time adjusting to all of the noise around him, so he barely hear the voice coming from above him. He assumed that whoever it was, was not talking to him anyway, but he did turn his eyes in that direction to take note of the person doing the speaking. When his eyes lit on the young woman looking directly at him, he blinked. "Miss?" he said, blinking again, "were you speaking to me?"
"No I was talking to all the other idiots on the lane walking a horse that should be ridden." Faemne shook her head. "You really ought to be paying attention.
Ser blinked again and looked around. "Forgive me for my ignorance," he said, continuing to walk alongside her as the street again opened up, "but I prefer to walk. I shall keep better eye on my horse from now on."
"Prefer to walk?" Fae looked as though the suggestion was completely foreign. "When you have for yourself a fine horse?"
"Yes," the young man answered, running a hand over the side of Surefoot's head. He offered the girl a small shrug. "It has been a long journey. He needed a break." This was not exactly true, since he had not ridden the horse but a bit here and there to try to get his confidence up at certain places during the trip, but she would not know that.
Faemne frowned, to her eyes the horse looking well rested. Obviously this poor young man really knew nothing about horses. "From where do you hail? Would you know where a decent stall might be found for my horse?" She sat tall in her saddle, her pride apparent. "I have come to win this tournament."
Serondín looked up at the girl and a smile nearly broke out upon his lips, seeing the determination written on her face...that same expression his mother at times wore openly. "I am from Calembel in Lamedon," he said as he looked more closely at the girl and her clothing. "I wish you good luck," he added with a nod of his head.
"I thank you, but I need no luck." Faemne looked around not actually wanting to say she had no idea where she was, or where a room could be had. "And what is your name, or should I call you 'One who prefers to walk'?"
The young man could not help but smile a little at her comment about luck. "I am called Serondín, Miss," he said, tucking a loose piece of his brown hair behind his ear, "and if a room is to be had at a person's home or at an inn, a sign will be placed on a front window...leastways that is what I have heard on the road."
"Faemne, I am from Rohan." As they continued on she spotted a sign in a window. "Like that?" She pointed, "How do we know the amount? Must we go in and ask?"
"No," he said, looking curiously at the sign which merely advertised that there were jars of jam for sale. He wondered if her eyesight was bad, and if so, how she hoped to win this tournament...unless it was through grit and determination alone. But, he thought more on it...Rohan, she had said she was from, and he suddenly understood. "I will point out to you where there is a room available." Serondín looked around them as they continued on and finally spotted a proper notice tacked to a door ahead. "There," he said, pointing, "there is a sign." He looked at it and read it slowly. "It is not much to stay," he said, turning back to look at Faemne.
Fae shifted in her saddle. Never before had she even thought about the reading of things. It had not come up before. She furrowed her brow angry with herself that she should even feel embarrassed. What need did she have for the learning of letters and writing? She nodded and eased herself out of the saddle and came to stand next to Serondín. She licked her lips and studied the sign. "Does it have a stable?"
"Yes," he said, turning to look down upon the top of her head, "the stable is around the back." He stepped back a bit and looked carefully at the building. It seemed to him to be a nice enough place, and there was more than one room available, and he was quite frankly tired of walking. "I will stay here," he said, coming quickly to a decision. "There are three room available," he added, pointing to the number 3 on the sign.
Fae tried for a moment to see if she could interpret the writing on the sign. After a short moment she simply shook her head and turned. "I must be sure they will take proper care of Stupid, before I lay down any of my scanty coins for a room." She turned and began to walk her horse to where she figured the stables were.
Serondín followed along behind her, Surefoot neighing and shaking his head. "Yes," the young man whispered to his horse, "we will get us some food soon." He watched in silence as Faemne looked over the stables. He could have assured her that the accommodations would be the same anywhere in the city, and that making them suitable would be in the people's best interest, but instead he said nothing, glad of the respite from the crowds in here. He awaited the girl's decision patiently, letting his mind wander to thoughts of having a nice ale.
Faemne let out a long sigh, her hands on her hips. It looked well enough... She inspected everything, the construction of the stalls the look of the horses already being kept there, the food storage and the type of feed. And when she happened upon a stable hand she drilled him until she was certain they would keep her horse well enough. "Very well, it will do." The girl handed the reins to the hand and pulled her bags from Stupid's back. She gave him a reassuring pat as he was walked to his new home. "I will come down later to see they've taken care of you proper."
The young man took his bags from his horse as well, looking the other man over quickly before handing the reigns to him. Even if Serondín had any questions to ask of the man before he left Surefoot there, Faemne had covered them and then some. He allowed himself a proper smile. "It is true what they say that the Rohirrim love their horses," he started, "but I wonder why you might have called him Stupid of all things."
"Ah..." Faemne smiled for the first time. "There is a story to that of course. My father gave him to me, fresh from the herds, not a single soul ever having touched him. I had just managed to get the saddle on him, and was mounting up when one of my brothers... there are eight of them. Decided it would be great fun to flick a stone at him. So off I fell and off he ran, with my brothers all laughing and me running after him, calling out for all to hear, 'Come back here Stupid.'" She shrugged as she hefted all her things over her shoulder and began to walking. "So it became the thing to ask 'How goes Stupid's training?' Not the most noble of names perhaps... but he doesn't mind."
"Oh," Serondín said, lost back at the point where she said she had fallen, "were you hurt...when you fell I mean?" He carried his gear under one arm, his sword in its sheath in the other hand as they headed back around to the door.
Fae furrowed her brow, what an odd sort of question. "No, I simply fell." She looked around trying not to seem lost. "I think I must confess to you something." She leaned a little closer to the tall young man. "I have never been to a city of this size, and never stayed in an Inn of any sort, how do we go about this?"
Ser noted her expression and wondered at it. Was it not logical to ask if a person was hurt when falling from a horse? He thought it was, surely, a good question. But he was dragged from his thoughts by Faemne's next question. "We just knock on the door, I suppose. The stable hand has by now, I would guess, told the master of the house that we have arrived." Really he did not often travel from home himself, but it seemed the likely way things were done. "I really am not terribly certain myself, Miss Faemne, but we will walk through this together, blind though we may be."
Fae found herself smiling, she liked this young man. And she especially liked that he called her 'Miss Faemne', it sounded very respectful. Though she frowned at the suggestion she was blind, "My eyes work well... oh" Her mind caught up with her after a moment as they came to stand in front of the door. It had been a figure of speech. She looked away shaking her head, then cleared her throat before giving the door a good solid knock.
"I am sure they do," he said to her even though she had stopped herself speaking. When the door opened the woman who answered smiled brightly at them, bidding them enter. She seemed to have been expecting them and Serondín felt good that he had indeed guessed rightly. "We will be needing lodging if you please," he said to the dark-haired woman, which elicited a mildly curious glance from the lady of the house. The woman looked from him to Faemne and smiled. "One room then?" she asked. Ser's mouth dropped open and he blushed furiously, unable to say a word.
Faemne blinked and looked at Serondín and the woman. She hadn't thought of that. He seemed a good sort, and she was more than sure she could defend herself should he decide to try and rob her of her coins or steal her horse. "That would save us some coin would it not?"
Faemne's response shocked Serondín nearly as much as the woman's question. He wiped a hand over the back of his neck, addressing the woman of the house. "Two rooms if you please," he said, "Miss Faemne here is going to best us all and win this tournament." He turned to face the young Rohir girl with a smile as the woman went to fetch their keys.
Cocking her head to the side Faemne could not help but ask. "Why not share the room? I have shared a bed with at least one brother all my life. I am sure whatever they have is large enough for two comfortably. Leave more money for food."
Serondín took a deep breath and scratched at the reddish hair that was now growing in on his face. "It would not be right," was all he could at first say, "besides, two competitors should be careful not to ally themselves too closely with one another. It would make beating me that much harder for you."
She frowned, trying to work out what he was saying. Fae supposed it meant that if _he_ got to close with someone it would mean he might be tempted to hold back in competition. "That would be as bad as lying or cheating. Competition is competition. I never hold back when honor or life is at stake." Faemne nodded at the man, her face full of determination. "I would beat you as honestly as I will beat everyone else. But I understand if you cannot see past such things."
If Faemne had been a man, Ser probably would have turned right then and walked away, for she was prideful that much was plain. But there was something about her that made him stay. He did not actually believe that she would win this tournament, but he could tell that she would indeed try. For a moment, the young man wondered if he shouldn't tell her that there was a chance that she would have a hard time of entering at all...no he did not wish to be the bearer of such news. "Two separate rooms is really for the best Miss Faemne," he said at last, "no matter the reason." The woman returned with their keys and pointed them toward the stairs, instructing them as to which rooms were theirs to be had.
Faemne took her key and nodded her thanks to the woman. She thought for a moment she might prefer to and sleep in the stall with Stupid. She had never actually slept in a room by herself in all her life. For the first time since she had left home the girl began to feel ill at ease. Not frightened, no never frightened. But this knew feeling of uncertainty was almost as bad she was sure of it. "I- uh, I do not suppose you know where we will be going to enter? And how it is done?"
Serondín set his bags down at the next door and turned back. "I heard talk on the road that there is to be a great feast in the hall of the city and that all combatants are to attend. I suppose we shall sign up there for the events." He looked Faemne over, not really sure what he saw. "Is everything alright?"
Fae straightened a little as she turned her key in the lock. "Of course." She opened the door to the room and stood in the doorway looking in. It was a simple room a bed, and table with a bowl and pitcher. Sufficient, it would be good. Quickly she set her things inside the door. "If there is to be a feast I do suppose they will be expecting everyone there." Fae took off her shield and set it in the room as well before turning and locking the door behind her. "And I am quite hungry... I used up more of my supplies than I would have liked in the pass under the mountain. But it would seem not even rats make their home in the Paths of the Dead."
The young man found himself standing in the door way of the woman's room, listening intently to what she was saying as his own stomach rumbled unhappily. "Yes I am quite hungry myself," he said. "I will set my things in my room." Ser turned and walked to the door of his own room, opening it and placing his things neatly inside. His mother had always taught him to put things in their right places and he had always obliged, not wanting to make any more work for her if he could help it. When he returned to Faemne's room he smiled. "So you have traveled the Dimholt Road and the Paths of the Dead? Would you tell me about it as we make our way to the hall?" He liked often to listen to the tales of others for they were at all times more interesting than his own.
"Yes, it was rather dull. Cold, dark, outside the reach of the torchlight." She shrugged. "I would much rather have traveled it as they said your King did. But now it is empty, all threat gone with the restless dead." Faemne walked beside him and told him what she had seen, though she remained distinctly unimpressed. "It was the only way at my late date of departure to arrive here in time."
Serondín listened intently as they walked up the streets, following behind still others arriving. He was glad that he had gotten a room quickly and that he was headed for someplace where he might get a good meal. Faemne continued talking and he asked questions where appropriate, nodding his head with interest as his eyes took in the sights along the city streets. As they reached the plateau and stood outside the hall, he silently hoped his mother was faring well.
[Edited on 6/7/2004 by Nienna-of-the-Valar]
|
|
| Faramirs_first_kiss |
|
| falather |
|
| Tasar_Took_Nualda |
|
| LadyRanger |
|
| falather |
|
| Nienna-of-the-Valar |
|
| Faramirs_first_kiss |
|
| falather |
|
| LadyRanger |
|
| Faramirs_first_kiss |
|
| Tasar_Took_Nualda |
RE: Tournament at Tarnost
on: June 18, 2004 12:09
|
|
(another collaborative post with Nienna providing Serondin)
"Now try and listen girl." Guthulf's deep bass voice rumbled from deep in his chest. "I cannot let go of you until you can promise not to take off again." The big man held the girl firmly, yet as gently as he could. If the guards got hold of her it would be a fast ride to that stocks for certain. And while the young girl had shown no forethought in her actions of a moment ago, the man did not feel her obvious enthusiasm should be quashed in such a manner. "Do you hear me?"
Yes, she heard him. Faemne muttered another curse under her breath, stupid big, fat boar of a man. "Aye, I hear you, now let me down." What could possibly be more embarrassing than to actually be picked up and carried off in front of her fellow combatants? She wanted to be let down so she could give the fat oaf a good and serious talking to, about the etiquette of walking in on another person's fight. "Serondin? Tell him to let me loose."
Serondin had his back turned to them, his arms crossed over his chest. How exactly had he found himself in this situation, he wondered, trying to manage to clear his head. The young man turned and looked pleadingly at the overly large figure holding Faemne off the ground. "Ummm," he at last managed to say, not looking at the girl, "sir..." he nearly began to implore the huge man to forgive him...that he was not in any way involved in that altercation and could he please be let go straight away...but in the end he did not. "Maybe the lady is calm enough to be placed upon her feet." It was a non-committal request, saying neither that she should or shouldn't be released. Ser let out a sigh, clearly intimidated and not caring one bit.
Faemne turned and glared up at the man who had held her as soon as she could. "I would like to know who you are, and why you thought it necessary to interrupt my fight.
Guthulf brought a hand to his beard and stroked it, one large eyebrow raised. "As to my name, it is Guthulf, as to why? T'would not have been long before the guards were roused by your little fight."
"I have nothing at all to fear from the guard, I had done nothing wrong." Fae crossed her arms over her chest, her voice terse. "First that skinny necked man behind the desk tried to suggest I go to the kitchen, and then I heard that man say I should be given a dress. I was perfectly within my rights to defend my honor against such slights."
"I heard that comment as well." Guthulf frowned. "Though I would not have found the most offensive part of it to be the dress...." He shook his head. "But do you then condone the young lady's action? You think it was wise of her to lash out in such a manner?" He turned his dark eyes back down on little Faemne.
"Nay, sir," Ser said, "I myself would not have done so, but had she been a man..." he felt a little uncomfortable, so he looked at the floor before clearing his throat and returning his gaze to Guthulf, "well had she been a man and done the same thing, it would have been a source of amusement, I think. It would seem commonplace...sir."
"Why should anything be different because I am not a man?" Fae fumed a little, "T'were no fault of mine how my mother bore me. I have just as much right to a place here as anyone!"
Ser sighed and scratched at the hair at the back of his neck. "Miss Faemne," he said, "you do have every right to be here. _I_ think you do, but others may think differently." He did not really know what else to say and really he feared to anger the girl further.
She simply recrossed her arms over her chest and looked down at the floor. Faemne listened carefully as a tall man called everyone to attention and made a short announcement. The girl supposed he was the ruling lord, after the cheering died down a bit Fae sighed and looked again down at the floor. Were she a lesser person she would by now have started to feel a little overwhelmed perhaps.
The young Rohir stiffened as she felt Guthulf's large hand on her shoulder. "Now miss, please just hear my words and try to take them into advisement. If you feel you must prove yourself, do it in the competitions. Busting heads is no way to go about gaining honor, nor glory, nor least of all acceptance. I would wish you luck, but I have known my fair share of your countrymen and women, and I know you will need no luck." The over large man then nodded to both the girl and the lad, Serondin, and quietly took his leave.
Serondin nodded back at the man, grateful for his kindness. Really he had probably saved both of them from a bad spot. The young man busied himself with watching and listening to the people who now seemed very much in a hurry to take a seat, and he was still very hungry, but Faemne still seemed unsettled. He felt far more comfortable in just her company though than he did in that of Guthulf, so he cleared his throat again and spoke. "Maybe Miss Faemne, he is right, you do not want to reveal to the competitors all of your moves before it is time to. That would give them time to prepare against you."
"I had not planned on entering a competition for fist fighting." If it was not for the rather stern look on her face, one might have imagined the girl was pouting. "No matter, I thank you for standing with me, when this Guthulf took me. You did not need to, and yet you did." Finally the smells of the food being laid out reached Fae's stomach and it let out a gurgling noise. "Perhaps we had best find ourselves a seat and a board before everything is taken?"
Ser almost laughed, for in his desperation to ease Faemne's mind he had said something quite silly. Of course she was not entering a fist-fighting competition. He ran a hand over his face and shook his head. The young man offered her a smile. "You," he started tentatively, "are a friend. I will always stand by a friend." Serondin turned himself back to look at the table and the increasingly few empty seats. "And, yes, I am very hungry. It has been a long journey and a tiring day."
Faemne smiled, a simple happy smile when she heard Ser call her a friend. Outside of her brothers she really never tried to make any friends. And no matter how she would like to tell herself that she needed no one and could do just fine here in Gondor on her own... it was nice to think she did not have to. "It might not have been so tiring a day if you had ridden your horse more." She elbowed him a little, like she would one of her brothers when she was ribbing them, and pointed out a gap on one of the benches big enough for them both.
"Oooff," Ser said, "that smarts!" He exaggerated the effects of her shot to his ribs by rubbing them. He followed after Fae as she headed to an empty seat. "Hey," the young man added, "elbowing...now there is an event I would like to see someone try to beat you in." Serondin sat down on the bench and scooted over so there was plenty of room for Faemne. "I am going to bring something back for Surefoot," he said unfolding a cloth napkin into his lap, "after I have had my fill of course."
"Ah don't be such a child." Fae rolled her eyes as she took her spot. "I hardly touched you. She stood above her seat and reached and grabbed for what ever she wanted, not bothering to wait, or ask. In a household of eight growing boys, and one near always hungry father, a girl learns to take her food first and worry about manners once her belly is full. "Yes I am sure Stupid would like a treat or two from here as well." She nodded to him as she sat back down and started into her food. "I had heard ugly rumors that the folk of Gondor did not care for their horses as we do. I am glad to see that is not the case with you."
"My horse is my friend," he said, 'I just don't like to ride him,' he nearly added, but kept it to himself, taking a bite of some bread as he watched her fill her plate. He was going to suggest at one point, that he would bet he could out eat her, but he was suddenly glad he had not. "And, about the rib thing, that was nothing. I have an elder brother who used to take great pleasure from using me to practice his wrestling techniques against."
"Wrestling?" Faemne looked up with interest. "My brothers and I wrestle..." She frowned. "Or rather we used to." The Rohir shook her head and looked utterly perplexed. "Until recently, then everyone around me has seemed to, I do not know, I haven't the right word. But they all started treating me different."
"Well I have rather learned better how to defend myself than to take any aggressive action, but I manage to keep myself out of trouble that way," Serondin said, eating happily, his stomach growing quieter. As he took a sip of his drink he looked at Faemne out of the corner of his eye. Did she really not realize why they were treating her differently? He was not going to even attempt to explain that one to her...uh uh...nope, not him. Ser just shrugged. "I wonder why that could be?"
Fae looked at Ser and shrugged, "As I said, I do not know. It doesn't make any sense at all." The man next to her had been perhaps been imbibing a bit too much ale before coming here and bumped into Faemne. She cursed and managed not to spill her drink, and without second thought shoved the man back, and continued eating as he fell from his seat. Luckily for the both of them he was too drunk to really care about too much, though the people across the table certainly took an amused note.
Serondin's mouth dropped open though, he really should be getting used to this behavior by now. Twice in the span of a few hours. He almost wished he had even a little bit of her gumption...but only a little or he would certainly get his fool self hurt...tossed off some high cliff or something. That was always the way he had dreamt he would meet his demise. The young man wiped a hand over his brow and said nothing about what Faemne had done, though he did lean back to make sure the man was staying on the floor. Ser raised his mug and brought it in front of Faemne. "To friends," he said with a grin.
"Yes," Faemne raised her mug and brought it to his. "To friends, and good fight on the morrow." She smiled broadly her brown eyes shinning warmly.
(we thought perhaps they could have sat at across the table from Toron, get a bit of a conversation started with your char if you like Falather  )
|
|
| falather |
|
| LadyRanger |
|
| Faramirs_first_kiss |
|
| Nienna-of-the-Valar |
|
| Tasar_Took_Nualda |
|
| LadyRanger |
|
| falather |
|
| Nienna-of-the-Valar |
RE: Tournament at Tarnost
on: August 20, 2004 03:23
|
|
((ooc: Thanks to Tasar for Miss Faemne, and we looked into it and are pretty sure that it was Andurion looking at them and Toron and not Aneirin. Is that right? Where is everybody? *sniffs* Would love to keep this thread going!))
Serondín sat and listened to Toron and Faemne chattering on through the latter part of the meal, preferring to just stay out of it for the most part, unless he was spoken to directly. Being in large groups, he tended to like to sit by the wayside, observe rather than be observed.
He had eaten his fill though, and had enjoyed quite a bit the taste of the ale they served in Tarnost. He felt good and relaxed actually, and more that a little bit tired, were he to be quite honest.
Toron seemed to him like a decent sort and the other young man's words about his home reminded Ser not exactly of his home, but that he was far from it.
When Toron asked Faemne who the young man was who was looking at them, Ser turned his head to catch a glimpse himself. "I do not believe he was named," he said, fidgeting a bit on the bench. "But as he is sitting with the Lord of the City, I would guess he is nobility as well." Ser looked toward the lad next to Aneirin again, noting that he had turned away. "Likely the son of someone important."
Serondín yawned then suddenly and tried to stretch his arms over his head, but was unable in the close quarters they were sitting. He wondered why more of the men had not yet retired, but he supposed that most of them had not traveled on foot. "I think that I am going to head back to the inn Miss Faemne," he said as he tried to get his knees out from under the table. "Good Day Toron, and Good Morrow."
Faemne had not actually paid much attention to Toron's question about the man looking towards them. The girl had been trying to figure out exactly what Toron had meant. He had said that had he the equipment, he would loan it to her. So what good exactly did his offering her what he did not have do? And besides that, this thing that he did not have, yet would gladly allow her the use of, if he actually did have such a thing, it would surely not be of the correct fit.
She dragged her eyes, a very thoughtful expression on her face, over the young man again. No, they were of a very different size and build. His equipment, if he had it, which he did not, would be of little use to her. Fae finally came to the conclusion that while this man was trying to be nice, he just was not at all a practical sort.
After Serondín had finished telling them that whomever it had been Toron had questioned her about was not named yet to their hearing, the young Rohir nodded and said, "You are kind Toron." The she bowed her head a little in thanks for his rather frivolous but still well meant offer.
As Ser rose from the table she quickly followed suit. "Yes seeing as there is much to be done tomorrow it would be wise for all us clear minded competitors to get off to bed."
Ser paused, waiting for Faemne to join him, but he could not help looking at her, a little bit puzzled by her words. Was she making a snide comment, directed at Toron? Implying that he was not of a clear mind? Serondín thought he had only seen the other lad partaking of a normal amount of ale. What could she have meant?
He shrugged though, clearly unable to work it out, as the girl was quite a puzzle in her own right. He started to take slow, deliberate strides toward the door, his legs feeling a little cramped from sitting. "Toron seems like a decent fellow," he said to Faemne when they were finally outside in the fresh air.
Fae nodded, stretching her legs. She lifted one behind her, grabbed the ankle and pulled, and then the other. "Yes, not at all practical in his offering, but I think he meant it well enough," she said seriously. The girl started to walk and paused, casting her gaze all around. This was not like being out on the open plains... She looked up at Ser, trying not to look lost or overly worried about perhaps being lost. "I... think I may not have my bearings."
Ser smiled a little and looked around. There seemed to be only one direct way down from the plateau, so that was simple enough, and from there, if he did not already have the way etched into his mind, he was sure he would remember it when they got down to the city streets. "Well," he said, trying to hide a yawn behind his hand, "lucky for you _I_ paid attention on our way here."
Faemne's mouth dropped open and she bristled with indignation. "Well... I... hmmph," she huffed. It was true she had not been paying attention as she should have. She frowned to herself and cursed her stupidity. First time in a city and if it was not for a man she had just met, she would indeed be lost.
Serondín tried not to chuckle aloud. He did not drink ale often, not often enough he would have said, but when he did it tended to make him both tired and a little loose lipped. "Forgive me Faemne," he said. "That was a most inappropriate joke, but I meant it only in jest."
"Yes but you are right," she said, a yawn of her own breaking through the last word. "Jest or no, I was not alert. A fine rider I will make unable to remember where I have been or where I am going." Just to be sure, the girl began looking very carefully at her surroundings, taking note of anything she could use as a landmark.
"Ah well," the young man said, feeling badly. "I would not fault you for it. This must seem a strange place to you, I would guess?" He did not like to assume, but he was fairly certain that Faemne's discomfort about being in a strange place had led to her earlier behavior.
Fae nodded. "I have never seen so many houses... or so tall," she said, leaning back a little to look up. "And uh, glass windows everywhere. We just have wood shutters." The girl stood straight though, determined not to allow any of this to get to her. She did not miss her home. She did not wish that she had turned back and just worn the silly dress, Faemne repeated to herself as they continued on.
Serondín walked, only half-admiring the structures around them as the pair walked the streets. "I have seen cities such as this, but it is not to my taste," he said. "I rather prefer quiet myself. Large open spaces. Lots of room. Not so many people." He moved quickly to get out of the way of a running, screaming child. "Yes, I like quiet."
"Oh you would not like my father's house then. There are nine of us, and father and father's second wife..." She paused, looking in a store window and then another as they walked along. "Although Frumbearn has married and moved, and Nihtwa has found himself a wife as well." Her voice grew terse beyond her control, and as they turned a corner, she stopped by another store window and gave a bit of a disgusted snort. "You know they seem to have a high call for brothels here." She stuck her thumb out in the direction of the shop. "Third one at least we have passed."
Oh, he thought to himself, nine people? No, eleven, she had said, but one was married and gone and...Wait. Serondín paused in his counting of Faemne's family members when he heard better what she had just said. "Wha?" he started to ask her, looking into the window of the store. His eyes flicked back to the girl's and then down to his feet. Had she just said brothel? But that was not a brothel she was pointing at, simply a dress shop. He was very confused and he thought he just must have misheard her. "The third what we have passed?"
"Brothel," Faemne said, simply looking at the dress on the form. "This is where they sell the dresses is it not?"
Oh, if there was a worse sounding word to his mind than that one, he could not at that moment think of it. Serondín felt his face grow a little hot as he shifted his feet in place. "Maybe we should just continue on," was all he could think to say.
Fae nodded and walked next to Ser. "Why do people allow themselves to be trussed up that way? I mean every girl in all of this Tarnost must wear them..." She paused and pointed to another shop with not only a dress but a man's suit as well. "So do men go to brothels as well then?"
The young man was growing terribly embarrassed as Faemne continued in her line of questioning. Do men go to brothels? Who did she think went to brothels? But why did she think that clothing shops were anything but what they obviously were? Well he had no idea and his face was so hot and red that he could barely even try to think of why. He brought one hand up to wipe over his brow, suddenly feeling wide awake, yet wishing that he was safe in his bed, sound asleep. "Umm," Ser looked around them, the turn for the street to their inn still far away. "Sure I...I believe that men go to brothels." He finally blurted that out with a sigh.
Faemne turned and looked at Serondín, concern evident in her features. "Are you quite well? You look... well," she said, putting her small fists on her hips. "You look sick. Did you drink too much ale?"
The young man's eyes went a little wide and he tugged at the collar of his tunic. "No," he said. "I mean yes, yes I think I did." Ser paused and turned away from her. "And no, I am not so sure that I am well at all."
"Maybe we should find you a place to sit yourself down a moment?" Faemne asked, setting about looking for something for Ser to sit on. She tapped him on the shoulder. "Come on. Though I am disappointed. You should learn how much ale you can handle, as not being at your best when entering a competition is not at all smart."
Great, Ser thought, now she thinks I am a drunkard. But at least maybe that was better than talking about...well he did not wish to think on it any longer. He would suffer this sort of embarrassment rather than the other any day. "I do not know what I was thinking," he said, following along after her and sitting when she took a seat. "I do not drink often. It must have gone right to my head."
"Ah well hopefully it will be out of you before morning," she said, laughing a little. "You see my nose here?" The girl tapped the slight bend in her nose. "That is the sort of thing what comes from drinking too much. My brother Nihtwa and me, we got into a barrel of my father's ale. Then I bet him he could not catch the old plow horse's shoe on the weather vane." She shook her head. "I won that bet," Faemne said, rubbing her nose at the memory of it. "Had I been sober I would have been able to move out of the way."
Ser looked at her nose closely enough to see the freckles sprinkled across it, and nodded, before sitting back, so glad of the change of subject, that he must have looked miraculously cured of his ailment. "Ouch," he said to her. "That must have hurt quite a bit." He smiled a little bit and blushed again as a pretty woman in a long, frilly dress caught his eye as she passed.
"Aye it did... once I woke up." Her voice trailed off a bit as she noticed the look on Serondín's face and turned, frowning when she saw what had caught the young man's attention. Perhaps she could not say why, but for some reason it bothered her. It also made her wonder what it was about these dresses. "Have you been to a brothel?" The Rohir asked, determined to get to the bottom of why dresses were so important.
Ser could not help but let out a groan as his head fell forward on his neck. What was he to say to her? And if it came to it, how was he to explain what a brothel was. He suddenly found himself remembering what had happened when they took their rooms at the inn. Faemne had seen nothing odd about the innkeeper's suggestion that they share a room.
He sat again upright and leaned his back against the wall behind them. The young man found himself frustrated that those men in the hall had said anything of the sort, putting these ideas into Fae's head. Very slowly and deliberately, the young man answered her question, but did not say anything further. "No, I have not been to a brothel myself."
Fae frowned, disappointed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Do you know at least what they do there... I mean when I look at a dress I see nothing I want anything to do with. And then men like you and like my brothers, when a girl walks by in one they get all strange." She looked at him, her brown eyes a mixture of confusion and frustration.
"I..." he started to say, thinking to himself that he had probably never felt so exposed, so very mortified, and he had spent a good deal of his life blushing about one thing or another. "I know what they do at a brothel yes, but brothels and dresses have nothing to do with one another." He remembered exactly what those crass individuals in the hall has said. "You should put little thought into those men and what they said Miss Faemne."
Her brow furrowed and her lips pursed. "Nothing to do with one another?" Fae did as he said though, trying as she might to remember what exactly the man had said. "He said I should go to a brothel and get a dress- -" Her mouth dropped open and she sat straight, her arms dropping to her sides. "No, wait, that is not what he said. " 'Get her a dress and send her to a brothel.' " The young girl leaned forward. "That is what he said is it not?"
Oh how he wished he was somewhere else. "Yes," Serondín sighed, "that is what he said. The second one." He was sure he had told her to put little thought into their words, but she must have misunderstood. "It was horribly inappropriate for a decent fellow to say, and he meant it as an insult I dare say."
"But what then," Faemne said her patience wearing thin, "what by Bema is a brothel!"
Ser was a little stunned by the girl yelling at him, but maybe if he actually found a way to tell her, she would understand why he was being so vague. "A brothel," he said grimacing at the word. "First of all you should not shout that word again." He looked around them and then back into her eyes. Ugh, no he could not do this. What was she going to think? What of him? What of those men who had said such a thing?
But, he thought, if he did not tell Faemne, then who would? Now that the idea was in her mind Ser could picture her running up to strange people, asking them, and that would not be a good thing. "A brothel is a place where men go and pay money to spend time with women," he finally said, and really the way he had put it, it did not sound too bad.
Fae shook her head. "I do not understand. Why would you give a woman money just to spend time with her?" she asked, and really if that was all it was, and they had nothing either to do with dresses, she found herself unable to think why it had been so insulting.
"Uhhh...I am really uncomfortable talking with you about this," Ser said initially, wiping his brow of some beads of sweat again. But finally after a long time sitting there in stunned silence, he added what more he could think to say. "Some men do this when they are far from home, from their wives." He hoped she knew, at least, what men and women did when in the same bed, for if she did not, he was not prepared to go into the ins and outs of such things.
Faemne let out a sigh of frustration. "I do not understand..." she said. Maybe Serondín was just too drunk to be able to actually answer her question. "Nevermind, I shall ask Toron to explain to me. I am sure we shall see him tomorrow."
"No!" the young man said, raising his voice a little. "No, you must not ask anyone about this, not even Toron." He paused again, wondering how he could possibly explain this to her. She spent her life surrounded by boys...her brothers, her father, and horses...well that was no help. Oh, wait...horses! Yes!
His thoughts suddenly shifted back to how he had gotten himself into this situation? Ahh he remembered, because he would not ride Surefoot. He was certainly kicking himself for that now, and vowed that he would ride and not walk from now on...well some of the time anyway.
"Faemne," he said, turning to face her. "I must beg your forgiveness in advance, but you have left me no choice and I do not want you to ask any stranger about this. So I must tell you." He hoped that when she realized what a brothel was, the girl did not strike him. "You must know how foals come to be. A stallion and a mare..." he paused, leaving the rest of that business unsaid. After clearing his throat he continued. "A man and a woman, well, a stallion and a mare...the man pays the woman for...umm...yes that. Her company."
Fae sat still and thought for a moment, bringing all the fractured pieces of what Serondín was saying together. She gasped as it finally struck her. The girl swallowed, one of the very few times in her life she felt the hot sting of embarrassment on her cheeks. "I should have kicked him," she managed to choke out, so angry and mortified that everyone there had heard what was said, that tears actually built up in her eyes. She could not bring herself to look at Ser, just hanging her head, her hands gripping the edge of the bench so tightly her arms shook. "I should have kicked him..." Was all she could again say.
Serondín found himself actually cursing under his breath that he had not done something in Faemne's defense back there. That man had no right to say such things, and now look what had happened. This girl who was so strong and infallible, was now so hurt and embarrassed. It was making him sick to his stomach to see her this way.
"I should have done something," he said, his brow still furrowed. "We should go back and find him." The young man found himself standing, ready to march back up the hill before he gained some control over his emotions. What was he going to do? Serondín, afraid of heights, unable to string words together to form sentences in the presence of more than two or three people. What would he do? And so he slumped back down on the seat and placed a kind hand on Faemne's arm. "I am sorry that you are hurt."
For a moment as Ser's hand rested on her arm Faemne actually felt herself wanting to leave. To find her horse and pick up and run again. She looked around, her eyes searching out someway to escape. How could she go back there with all those men that now would look at her and think about how she should be.... She shuddered involuntarily and looked at Serondin's hand then up to his face.
What was _wrong_ with her? Her eyes narrowed and she brushed his hand off her. Never in all her life had she shed a tear in front of her brothers, and only that once had her father caught her. Now look at her, trembling and about to cry out here in the street next to this man. She wanted to be angry at him. He had told her this had he not? But she stopped, her seething calming when she remembered how nice Ser had been.
She looked into his eyes and did not see mocking. The girl hung her head again, shaking it slowly before she spoke. "Forgive me." Her voice was again steady and strong, any sign of potential tears dried and gone.
The young man tucked his hand underneath one of his legs after Fae shoved it away from her. He was embarrassed again, only in a much different way than before. He actually felt a little hurt. He had tried to shield her from this thing, he had tried not to have to tell her, but she had persisted, and now he looked like the heel.
"You need not ask forgiveness of me," he said. "I am not good at this sort of thing and I am so very tired. I just hope this does not set me in a poor light. Not all men are so despicable." He really found himself almost angry as he thought of the face of the man who had made that comment about Faemne.
Fae sighed and kicked her legs a little. "Do not be absurd. I will admit at times I am slow, but really I am not very stupid." The toe of her boot found a loose rock between the cobbles. She twisted her boot in under the pebble, her eyes watching as it, under the force of her kick, hopped across the street. She sighed and turned her face so she was looking up at him. "You have done nothing but be a friend to me."
Serondín nodded and dragged his thoughts from the ridiculous things he was thinking he might do if he ever saw that man again. "I am glad you would still call me as much, your friend," he said, smiling down at her. "It has been such a very long day, it seems, and I find myself just exhausted. Do you mind if we continue on?"
Faemne returned his smile and stood. "You mightn't be so very tired if you rode that horse of yours." She was merely joking trying to take her mind and his off of everything else, not knowing that in fact the young man did not ride his horse much.
"Heh," the young man chuckled as he also stood and they walked on. "Right you are about that, but I have suffered far too much embarrassment this evening already to even consider delving into that subject. Let us just say that I am tired, and rightly so, and leave it at that." He turned his head forward again, walking next to Fae, as they made their way toward the inn.
|
|
| Faramirs_first_kiss |
|
| falather |
|
| LadyRanger |
RE: Tournament at Tarnost
on: September 22, 2004 09:50
|
|
((ta daaaaaa! It took us a while, but here it is! A biig Andy and Anei-post. The parts of Aneirin of course written by yours truly Joqui aka Kiss  many thanks to her for the humor in this post ))
“Ride with my favour?” Andy exclaimed, not knowing whether to be amused or insulted. “Are you out of your mind? She’s at least… two years older. Or at least has that look.” He shook his head fervently, then laughed. “I’d rather give my favour to the ghost on the stairs than that girl. She must be crazy, competing against all those men... I suppose there are some things she could win, but she’ll never get far.”
“Things she could win?” asked Aneirin, raising an incredulous eyebrow at his friend. “My dear Andurion, in order to do that she would have to defeat me, something I do not intend to allow to happen.”
“Could,” Andy said, smirking back. “Didn’t say she would. But theoretically it’s possible. She may be crazy, but she’s from Rohan… I do think she didn’t come unprepared. Never underestimate your opponent.” He gave a sly wink at his friend.
“Have you ever known me to?” asked Aneirin with a wry smile. “’Tis not my way. Nevertheless, I am confident I will defeat her; I would be somewhat concerned if I could not.”
“As you should be,” Andy sniggered. “I’ll be enjoying seeing the two of you compete tomorrow.”
Aneirin gave a quiet chuckle, then looked around the now emptying hall. “I think we would be justified in retiring soon, if you are finished,” he said.
Andy nodded, just swallowing the last of his meal. “Good, because I was just finished,” he grinned.
“Would you like to go straight to your room, or will you come upstairs with me?” asked Aneirin, and then he jabbed him lightly with his fork handle. “Perhaps we could try and find your ghost.”
“Sounds like fun,” Andy grinned, prying his friend’s fork away. “I’ve always wanted to meet one.”
“Excellent,” said Aneirin, pushing his chair out from the table and standing, nodding to his father to excuse himself and their guest. Selwyn nodded back with a sly little smile and, as ever, Aneirin highly suspected he had been listening to the entire conversation and knew that they were departing to ‘hunt ghosts’...
He walked to the door knowing Andy would follow, and confirmed this as he saw the younger man’s shadow falling in front of him, since his footsteps were as ever too quiet for him to hear. As soon as the bustle of the hall was indistinct behind them, Aneirin put his hand to his mouth and called out, “Hello? Ghost? Is anyone there?”
Andy reached out and poked his friend from behind, trying to cut him off. “Shut up,” he giggled, glancing behind him to see if anyone had heard it and then letting out an inward sigh of relief when he was assured that no one had. “Whoever it was, she isn’t going to come at your call.” Pulling on his friend’s sleeve to get him along, Andy rushed forward and up the stairs, intending to follow where he thought the ‘ghost’ had left earlier.
“Ghost? What are you talking about, Anei? Ghosts don’t exist.”
Aneirin turned to where the high, condescending voice had come from, already knowing who he would see there. “Ah, so there’s your ghost, Andy,” he said, a slight smirk on his face. “You’re supposed to be in bed, missy, and you certainly shouldn’t have come down to the hall.”
An indignant look formed on the face of the fair face of the redheaded teenager standing a few steps higher up than the two young men. “I don’t see why,” she said. “It’s not fair that I should have to stay up here in bed while you have all the fun.”
“Fun?” replied Aneirin, looking rather amused. “It was just a meal, about the same thing you had to eat earlier. Nothing happened, just go to bed.”
“But –”
“To bed.”
Scowling at him, the girl turned and stomped away back up the stairs, heading into a door not far from the top, opposite the stairwell from Aneirin’s own.
Andy had followed the conversation with interest, though not half as much as the interest with which he was observing the girl standing not far away from him. The first question that popped up in his mind was who she was, but he figured out soon that it must be Aneirin’s sister or something, judging by the way they spoke to each other. And even though she was young, there was no mistaking her Rawthôr heritage.
When the girl had disappeared through the door, Andy gave a tiny sigh before turning to his friend with a grin. “I told you I hadn’t seen any ghosts,” he said triumphantly, glad to know his eyes hadn’t deceived him.
"She might well be a ghost by the time father's finished with her," said Aneirin with a smirk. "She was meant to stay in her room." He said these last few words loudly, and was answered by a thump from the door the red-haired girl had disappeared into, a thump which sounded remarkably like wood being hit with a shoe.
Andy grinned and shook his head with amusement, finding the whole situation quite familiar. Such scenes were not uncommon at his home, either. “She’s your sister, then?” he asked unnecessarily.
"Aye, my sister Ellie," he said, then added her full name, "Odelia. She's..." he paused to count, "two years younger than you."
Andy’s eyebrows raised in a mildly approving gesture. She was the same age as his own sister, he noted absently, then wondered why he was noting such irrelevant things. Like, why had he remembered she had green eyes? Shrugging it off, he smirked at Aneirin. “Well, at least we can be assured there are no terrible ghosts haunting the Halls,” he said, giving his friend a quick wink. “Only a little sister.”
"Are you sure that's better?" asked Aneirin with a grin. “She’s being officially presented for the first time tomorrow and she has not shut up about it once. Father would have preferred to wait a few years until she was a more appropriate age to receive suit, but she insisted.”
“If you think that’s bad, you should meet my sisters,” Andy said with an amused shake of his head. “But you know, it’s just a matter of knowing how to control them.” He shrugged slightly. “They can be very amusing to be with.”
Aneirin chuckled quietly at Andy's suggestion that he and his father had been unable to control a young girl; though he did not fully know his father's reasons for agreeing to present Odelia at this early age he was no less than certain that Selwyn hadn't simply given in to her insistences. "Ellie's amusing too, aye. After all, she's a Rawthôr."
“Ah, you have a point there,” Andy smirked. “Oh, as for something completely different,” he said suddenly, perking up with a sly glint in his eyes as he glanced at Anei, “will you be riding with anyone’s favour tomorrow?”
“Me?” chuckled Aneirin. “Not likely, not unless some leather-faced, rich, powerful old heiress decides to give me a scarf between now and tomorrow.”
Andy would have laughed aloud at that, but the passing of a servant caused him to stifle his mirth to a mere giggle. “Ah, too bad,” he grinned.
Aneirin smirked at Andy’s attempts to stifle his laughter and ignored his comment. “So, boy, what time’s your bedtime?”
Andy’s expression went from amused to indignant. “Whenever I choose it to be,” he said. “However, if you wish to have me gone, I shall depart right away.”
It was Aneirin’s turn to look amused at the huffy expression on his friend’s face and he put his arm round his shoulders, grinning. “Ah, a free spirit,” he said in a knowing voice, then paused for a moment and his tone changed to a rather sarcastically false amazement. “Gosh, ghosts and spirits and all sorts! Tarnost’s an interesting place to be tonight.”
“Let’s hope they won’t be haunting us in our sleep,” Andy said, grinning in return. “We’ve got to be well-rested for tomorrow.”
“One of us does,” said Aneirin, a mischievous spark in his eye. “The other is only shooting.”
“Hmpf,” Andy protested, poking his friend. “You can’t even shoot straight after a day of sleep, much less a few hours.”
“I can shoot perfectly well, thank you,” retorted Aneirin, not flinching at the poke. “You can simply see further than me. I, on the other hand, would stand half a chance, or rather more, in a sword fight, whereas you would be floored in seconds.”
“But then, I am sixteen and have only just begun my training,” Andy replied without pausing to think. “Whereas you are twenty-one, fully developed and trained, thankyouverymuch.”
"You know very well I would still be able to beat you hands down even if we were both the same age," said Aneirin, smiling smugly, confident he was right.
“In sword fighting, aye, most likely,” Andy admitted with a small nod, “but not in archery.”
"In sword fighting, and on horseback, and in unarmed combat... You can't escape the fact that I am infinitely your superior in enough respects to make one mere discipline such as archery seem somewhat trivial."
“Perhaps,” Andy said, pursing his lips. “But perhaps not when that particular discipline is the main skill of the soldier, and the others are not required to be developed that well. When stealth, another one I surpass you in, my friend, is far more important…”
Aneirin smiled and casually twisted Andy's arm up his back, not so far as to hurt him but holding firmly enough to make his point. "Stealth is no match for skill and careful thought, excellent planning and impeccable timing."
“All that’s of no use when you can’t find your enemy,” Andy said, grinning despite his situation.
"There are other ways of finding an enemy beyond plain sight," said Aneirin, releasing Andy.
“Hah, I’d like to see you try and find me, before I find you,” Andy said with a smug grin. Though his own skill in stealth and tracking was fit for improvement, he was fairly sure he could still beat Aneirin, and he wouldn’t hesitate to if he ever got a chance to show it.
"Hmm, I think perhaps you could," acknowledged Aneirin with a gracious nod, "but only if you got plenty of sleep the night before."
“Whatever, Mister I’m-so-superior-to-you,” Andy said with a light snort. “You’re just saying that so you can have enough sleep yourself.”
"You keep telling yourself that," said Aneirin condescendingly, patting his shorter friend on the head. "Now run along to bed and don't be afraid of the ghosties. Ellie's not that bad."
“Well,” Andy said with an exaggerated hurt look, “if my companionship is no longer to your pleasing, sir Rawthôr, I shall hereby leave you so you can get your well-needed beauty sleep.” He tried to keep the amusement off his face, but failed and smirked at Aneirin.
"You need it more than me, my friend," said Aneirin with a grin. "Goodnight!"
“You keep telling yourself that,” Andy said with a grin as he turned to go to his room in the guesthouse. “Goodnight.”
Aneirin chuckled lightly and continued up the stairs to his own room.
Shaking his head in amusement, Andy walked to his room, accompanied by a servant who insisted to take him there. As they arrived, Andy dismissed the man with a polite nod and a little smile, then quickly entered the room and shut the door, preparing to go to bed. He wasn’t the type of person who needed a lot of sleep, but since he had had no rest since his arrival this morning, he thought it could certainly do no harm to go to bed a little earlier than normal.
|
|
| Tasar_Took_Nualda |
RE: Tournament at Tarnost
on: September 27, 2004 11:31
|
|
(thanks to Nienna my sweet for our dear Ser's part )
It was so quiet. Faemne had lain there in the dark, in the room and just marveled at the quiet of it all. Yes when she had been traveling she had been alone but for the company of Stupid, but this was different. She could not hear him shuffling around, coming close and snuffing her hair intermittently during the night.
No breathing but her own, no sounds of tossing in the night. She and her brothers had slept all in one room. This being in a bed not shared, a room alone, it was very different and unsettling. Finally though she had forced herself to just stop thinking about it and fell asleep.
Now it was morning however and more than anything she wanted company, and to warm up her horse for the busy day ahead. So she leapt out of bed, pulling on her trousers and tucking the mid thigh length under shirt in before pulling out her one of only two tunics she brought with her. She did not bother checking her hair.... her brush was with Stupid down in his things. Then she strode out of her room down the hallway and rapped at Serondin's door.
Serondin had slept well, very soundly in fact, since he had been so incredibly tired after the long days of walking it had taken to get there. The bed was comfortable, but really the mattress could have been stuffed with rocks and he likely would have found a way to sleep on it. He woke with a small crick in his neck for the awkward way he had sprawled himself on his stomach, his arms and legs splayed out at strange angles. His only complaint might have been that the bed was a wee bit too short, or something...it could not have been the position in which he slept, no, not that, it had to be the bed.
Even so, crick and all, the young man felt good and was ready to start the day. His stomach was crying out for breakfast as he washed and dressed and wandered around his room, gathering his things together. His clothing was still in a state of disarray and only one of his boots on his feet when he heard a knock at the door. Ser opened it tentatively, and then all the way when he saw Faemne standing there. "Good morn," he started to say, but one look at the girl's hair made him wonder if she had slept a wink. It looked more like she had tossed and turned all night. "Did you sleep?"
Fae's hand flew up when she felt Ser's eyes had looked to her hair. She found herself trying to smooth it a little, though what should she care if he thought her hair unkempt? "Yes." She shrugged, "I... it's so quiet in a room by yourself." The young Rohir shrugged diffidently and leaned against the door frame, arms folded across her chest, unwilling to let it seem that such a silly thing had bothered her. "How many brothers do you have?" She asked waiting for the young man to straighten himself.
"Me?" Ser said, turning to tug his other boot onto his foot. "One, Angbelas." He paused and sat on the bed, giving out a small grunt as he tugged the boot at last in place and then set his foot on the floor, standing up again. He straightened his tunic and ran his fingers through his plain brown hair. "Just the one brother and my father and mother. Why do you ask?"
"Just one?" Faemne asked her voice just a little astonished. The smallest family in the area she grew up was three. "That is not very much." But it was not really worth further consideration from her she guessed. "I am going down to tend Stupid." Fae straightened and waited assuming since he had his horse he would be going down to do the same.
Serondin felt his stomach growl in protest and he almost said 'breakfast?' aloud, as he resigned himself to the fact that he did have to tend to his horse. Surefoot was a good animal, and the young man might have called him a friend, but he was hungry. "I will come with you," he said. His stomach could wait, he supposed, until after the horses were tended to, but he hoped it'd not take too long. 'Stupid', he thought as he started to follow Faemne down the stairs. How could one call their horse Stupid? But he had gotten the answer to that question already and still it made him smile.
On their way down, Fae spotted two apples on the counter and without even thinking picked them up, tossing one over her shoulder to Ser. "They probably have been fed their morning hay but mine has never turned down a snack." She smiled as they made their way out to the stables. The red gelding turned around anxiously in his stall, whinnying and nickering as soon as he heard his mistress' voice. And he enjoyed greatly the ripe juicy apple, slobbering as he munched it.
Faemne unlatched his door and with a hand on his whithers led the horse out into the paddock. She wrinkled her nose, it was not very big, but it would do for a quick warm up. "I suppose we shall have to bring them out one at a time." She said absently as she shuffled through Stupid's few things and pulled out his mane and tail brush, using it on her own hair.
Serondin caught the apple with barely a thought. That was one thing, maybe the only thing he had ever been better at than his brother : acting on reflexes. How his brother managed still to be better than him at swordplay could only have been attributed to the elder's superior size and strength, for were their games based on reflex alone, Ser thought he might have been able to win at least once in a while.
Without thinking, the young man sighed and followed after Faemne, only half listening as he took a big bite out of the apple, immediately ruing the fact that he had done so when he saw the girl feeding hers to her horse. Serondin tried to chew inconspicuously and quickly shoved the remainder of his apple at Surefoot, the horse gobbling it quickly and happily. "No worries," he said, not concerned in the least about saddling up himself. "I will just watch."
Fae nodded and once she had her hair brushed out took then the brush to her horse. He really did not need anything but a simply brushing off, since she had taken time on the road to make sure he remained well groomed. She considered putting his saddle on but he would have that on all day once they went to the tournament, so she simply slipped the rawhide loop of his bridle over his nose and buckled the strap behind his ears. After their first disagreement the little red gelding had never needed any form of harsh metal bit in his mouth, and truly rare was the occasion she relied on her hands on the rein to direct him.
With a click the horse started off around the pen at a trot Fae keeping pace at his side. After a few rounds at a soft spoken word Stupid settled into a lope, Faemne now using her hand settled firmly on the horse's wither to lean upon and keep her legs moving in time with his forelegs. As the pace grew again faster, with a kick she landed herself one the gelding's back. She let out laugh as they moved around the pen, there was truly nothing the girl enjoyed more then time spent with her horse.
Serondin backed off from the paddock and pat his hand over Surefoot's head, rubbing up between the horse's ears. "She is a little showoff is she not?" he whispered though a smile was bright about his face. "We could do that if we wanted to, right?" The horse shook his head and Ser laughed. "Yes you are quite right. Not a chance of that happening, at least not that gracefully." The young man stood there watching, his legs crossed at the ankles and he came to a decision. He was not going to enter any of the riding events even though he had signed up for them the day before. Nope, he did not wish to make a fool of himself, not in front of Faemne, not in front of anyone. He shook his head. No riding unless he absolutely had to.
Faemne dropped the reins onto Stupid's neck crossing her arms over her chest. The horse's ears immediately perked, paying close attention now to every word and every change in pressure. Every command was immediately heeded, weaving their path across the paddock. When Faemne was satisfied, and the gelding just started to feel warm beneath her the girl dismounted near Serondin. "Right then, we are done. Your turn now." She smiled leading Stupid back to his stall.
Serondin quickly uncrossed his legs and stood up straight. "Oh, no, he does not need any warming up," he said, toeing the ground for a moment. Surefoot nudged his nose behind Ser's ear and the young man pushed him gently away. "Maybe we should get breakfast." His hazel eyes turned toward Faemne where she was closing her horse's stall. He knew she was going to ask him why, so he set his mind to thinking up a good excuse.
Fae blinked as the latch on Stupid's door clicked shut. "I do not understand... Why not? You take the chance of him injuring himself if you compete without letting him stretch."
"I know that," Serondin said quietly, still digging his boot into the ground as though there was something of great interest there just below the top most layer. "I am not going to compete in any events that would require me to ride, I do not think." Why had he said that? He was sure, positive, yet he had said he did not 'think'. Ever indecisive was he, Ser thought as he shook his head.
Faemne frowned, "Why not? You have a fine horse here. And I had looked forward to besting you in a good fair contest." She smiled a little at her last statement. Though the young Rohir might not have been the most astute at reading other people, she could see something was making him uncomfortable. "Serondin," She began taking a couple of steps closer and tilting her head to catch his eye, "what is this that troubles you?"
"Huh? Nothing," the young man said quickly, garnering him another nudge from his horse. Serondin stepped away from Surefoot's stall and offered the animal an exasperated sigh. "I have just changed my mind Miss Faemne. I do not think I would be very good at such events and frankly the thought of going head to head with you is not one I wish to entertain." He smiled, hoping that would throw her off at least long enough to mention breakfast.
The girl looked him over, her brow furrowed, "Well I will take that as a compliment, but I think you are lying." Fae said, never one to beat about the bush... rather to either burn it down or tackle whatever she might think was in there. "If it is something you do not wish to share with me what am I to do?" She brushed past him. "You will need food whether or not you are entering _any_ events."
"Huh," he heard himself breathe out. So that was it; she was willing to just drop it. Was that good or bad, Serondin wondered as he started following along after her. She had mentioned food, but for a moment he forgot about being hungry. "It is not _you_ that I wish not to share it with. It is just embarrassing I guess, being full grown and not wishing to get on a horse, unless I have to, then I will do it, but it is not a thought I relish," he said, his eyes going a little wide as he realized he had just opened the floodgates and told her what he had not wished to. His cheeks pinked around his freckles. "I am hungry," he added quickly, holding his stomach and hoping Faemne would ignore all else he had said.
Faemne however had stopped dead in her tracks her mouth open. "You are afraid of your horse?"
Serondin sighed and looked back at Surefoot. He could have sworn the next sound the animal issued was akin to a laugh. "I did not say I was afraid of my horse," he said his eyes glazing over a little and his face paling. "I am afraid of _falling_." He spit that out and then waited, hoping that the girl did not laugh.
"Oh..." Fae did let out a short laugh, "I was going to say, you have nothing really at all to fear from _that_ horse. I may not have known him long," She said walking over and smiling as she rubbed Surefoot's cheeks, "but I have a good sense about horses." The girl turned sucking on the insides of her lips for a second. "Then I guess we ought to learn you how to fall and not get hurt. No reason to fear after that." She stated matter of factly.
Serondin looked at her, aghast for a moment. "I do not want to fall. That is the problem," he said, closing his mouth at last with a loud click of his teeth. He was trying very hard not to look puzzled or frightened and it was rather making him look ill.
"If you know how to do it the right way, what then is the trouble?" Feamne asked not fathoming what the trouble would be. "Watch..." She said demonstrating from a standing position what she meant, falling forward and rolling easily back to her feet.
The young man felt rather foolish and he twisted his face as a cramp knotted his gut, whether from hunger or embarrassment or both he did not know. "Yes, that is all well and fine, but it is not falling from my feet that worries me," Serondin said, looking toward the door to the Inn.
Fae shrugged, "True," and she climbed up the fence to the paddock, wobbling as she maintained her balance on the top, "that basic," she waved her hand not being able to find the exact word, "thing works from up higher." And without further warning she let herself fall from the fence, again rolling out of it. "See?" She said brushing lose dirt from her. "Very simple."
As she fell forward, Ser made a move as if to reach toward her, but he missed, feeling that knot twisting in his stomach again. He leaned over the top of the fence, standing on the bottom rung and looked down at her, following Faemne with his eyes as she stood up. He was as white as a fresh clean sheet, even his freckles paled. "Do not do that!" he said, his voice raising just a small bit, it shocking him but he did not care. "You are going to get hurt if you behave recklessly."
Faemne looked utter perplexed. The girl turned in a circle looking herself over. "No harm." She shook her head about to give Ser some scornful words when she saw the look on his face. Her expression softened and she let out a short sigh. She walked to the fence opposite him and looked up at him. "You cannot be fearful... always waiting for hurt to find you, trying to hide from it. That is ridiculous because one way or another at times in your life you are going to come to pain... to fall... to something. It is your choice whether you sit and wait cowering for it or face it head on and life the life you have."
Serondin stepped down from the fence, planting his feet firmly on the ground. He had not even realized that he was on the fence. How had that happened? With a shake of his head he said, "I will live my life, may it please be a long one, but I do not wish to risk my body needlessly. My brother is laid up for his recklessness. I do not wish the same to happen to me." Some color came back into his cheeks, but his lips remained pale. "I know that you are trying to help and I am grateful, but my fear is too great."
Faemne shook her head, hopping up and back over the fence. "I cannot say I understand it, and if you want my thought on it I say you just need to do it, to ride that fine horse of yours. He does not seem bad at all to me, and it is a waste not to use such a good steed." She gave him a playful punch in the shoulder as she ran off back to the house. "Best hurry if I get to whatever food there is before you... I have lots of brothers and I eat much and fast!"
Serondin felt a grin overtake his features and he could not really say why after what he had just seen and how it had made his legs feel like they had turned to mush. He started after her, walking carefully toward the door, glad that she let it go and yet mad at himself for being such a child. One day he was going to have to get over this fear, but not this day...no not this day for certain and not this moment either. At this moment, the young man was hungry, and the thought of Faemne eating her share and his was unpleasant indeed. He chased after her as his legs returned to him, and he grinned and stuck out his tongue as he overtook her and pushed past toward the main room, prepared to eat and eat well.
|
|
| falather |
|
| LadyRanger |
|
| Tasar_Took_Nualda |
|
| Faramirs_first_kiss |
|
| falather |
|
Author
