| _mook_ |
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| dreamdancer |
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| purplefluffychainsaw |
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| LoremasterMiar |
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| dreamdancer |
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| tawar_meldis |
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| dreamdancer |
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| _mook_ |
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| purplefluffychainsaw |
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| LoremasterMiar |
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| dreamdancer |
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| purplefluffychainsaw |
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| _mook_ |
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| LoremasterMiar |
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| dreamdancer |
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| purplefluffychainsaw |
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| _mook_ |
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| tawar_meldis |
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| LoremasterMiar |
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| dreamdancer |
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| LoremasterMiar |
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| tawar_meldis |
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| purplefluffychainsaw |
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| _mook_ |
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| dreamdancer |
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| LoremasterMiar |
 RE: Murder in Rohan (KEEP)
on: July 27, 2005 12:20
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Glorfindel smiled, as Fae pulled the startled looking Ryn away from him. At first Glorfindel was confused as to what the young women were up to, but as soon as they approached the musicians he had a better idea. The tune and song were indeed known to Glorfindel, but he could make no sense of the words, for in six thousand years he had never got round to learning the ancient language of the Eorlingas.
Standing to one side of the dance floor, beside Hiligan, he simply let the beautiful sound wash over him. An immense admiration for the two young ladies had formed since he had met them, and he was honoured to hear them perform such a beautiful rendition of one of Rohan’s most ancient themes. The sound rose up into the ground rafters of the hall and seemed to fill the whole room with an invigorating and vivacious energy. People once again resumed their dancing with renewed vigour, and the atmosphere lightened considerably.
Glorfindel did not take his eyes of Ryn and Fae, there was something enchanting in the whole experience, the tone of their voices, the rhythm of the instruments, the…
“Lord Glorfindel?” a sweet voice broke his train of thought.
Turning to face the source Glorfindel saw a young human lady, clad in a highly decorative evening dress, standing shyly in front of him, her eyes downcast, shifting her weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
“Your pardon Lord,” she murmured, still not making eye contact, “But I was wondering, that is if you don’t mind…would you like to dance?”
Slightly taken aback by this sudden request Glorfindel was momentarily lost for words. It had not occurred to him that anyone would want to dance with him, indeed, at the start of the evening he had been reluctant to even consider dancing with Ryn, let alone a complete stranger. However the hopeful manner of the young lady and his exhilaration of the moment swiftly changed his mind.
“I would be honoured to lady,” he smiled warmly in reply, “I’ll see you later Hiligan.”
And taking the lady’s arm he escorted her out onto the dance floor. Out here there seemed to have been a complex routine formed. The males and females had separated into two lines, running either side of the hall, and couples would take it in turns to promenade down the aisle between the two rows, whilst the on lookers provided a supporting rhythm to the music, in the form of clapping. Once at the end, the couple would separate and then run around to join the end of either row. They would then advance down the line to meet up with their partner and the other end, and repeat the process.
At first Glorfindel was slightly bored by the reparative motions, but as it wore on he took quite a shine to it. Even better than that, his female companion seemed to want to led the dance, thus relieving him of any chance of messing up! As the dance worth on Glorfindel used the promenade part of the dance to make further inquiries of his female companion.
What he learned at regular intervals was that her name was Elia and she was the daughter of a marshal (which one Glorfindel had no idea, the Rohan military was a mystery to him, like most things involving their culture), and she was visiting Edoras with her father on invitation of her father. From what he could also learn was that she had a deep and profound respect for Lady Eowyn, sister of Eomer.
“She is an icon, lord,” Elia reported to him on their sixth jaunt down the aisle, “After her feats on the Fields of Pelennor, the military has finally started to accept female riders into the companies of marshals. Only a few have agreed, but the number is growing. Soon I hope that women will be able to play an as equal part in the land as men do.”
“Please called me Glorfindel,” was the reply, also for the sixth time, “That is indeed a highly significant move. I remember the days when the folk of Haldor’s house would never even dream of sending women into battle.”
This drew a highly surprised look.
“Haldor? They were our ancestors, or so they say. But they lived over three ages ago, how can you…”
“I’m immortal Elia, I don’t die of old age.”
“So exactly how old are you,” she questioned, “Glorfindel,” was what she added.
“I lost count about 6,250, as men reckon it, and I’m still not even reckoned as an elder in my race yet.”
At this point the conversation ground to a halt as they parted and didn’t pick up until they met again for the seventh promenade.
“You lost count?”
“Give me credit, Elrond lost track somewhere about 5,654.6676,” Glorfindel sighed, “He always had to be so precise.”
“Tell me about it,” Elia said suddenly.
“What?” once again this young woman had caught Glorfindel off balance, “I’m sorry?”
“Tell me all about it, everything,” she continued, “I want to hear about everything you’ve seen and heard. The Elder Days, the Noldor, the Silmarils, the Last Alliance, Fingolfin, Feanor, Gil-galad, Morg…”
“Ok,” Glorfindel cut in suddenly, “But Elia, there’s A LOT of stuff? And please don’t say that last name again.”
“I’m sorry, but please Glorfindel,” she looked at him with a blazing look, “Oh please, I’ve heard so much from legends and stories, but to actually meet someone who was there. That would be marvellous.”
“Very well, I’ll tell you everything, and I mean everything,” Glorfindel submitted, “But you’ve got to hear it out, promise?”
“I promise,” she nodded, “Oh Glorfindel thank you. Come let’s sit down.”
And with that Elia led him off the dance floor and to some large benches to the side of the room. There were already a large number of people seated there, and a resounding cheer went up when he approached, led by his guide. Evidently Elia was not the only one who wanted to hear a story. Immediately the crowd parted and led him to a seat in the centre. There he was seated comfortably, a large pile of cushions behind him, and a mug of ale was thrust into his hands. So the circle of on lookers closed ranks, and waited.
Glorfindel was in truth at a lose of what to do or where to begin. So he threw it open to the crowd.
“Tell us about dragons!”
“No, no! Orcs and trolls!”
“Tell us of Haldor,” which was followed by a resounding, cheer.
Then there came, “Tell us of the Elves, of the Noldor.”
Elia.
“Yes,” Glorfindel agreed, “That would be a good place to begin. So you have already heard in brief how the Dark One, whose name we do not speak came back to Middle-earth having stolen the Silmarils of Feanor. Now the Noldor rebelled and followed him here, against the orders of the Valar, and so they were banished from the Undying Lands.”
This drew an expectant gasp from the group, all eyes were fixed on the Elf, analysing his every move, his every action. Pausing for a moment to consider this, Glorfindel then went on.
“Well, this is what happened next…”
[Just a little roleplay on the side, I’m in no rush to the next combat!  ]
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| _mook_ |
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| dreamdancer |
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| _mook_ |
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| LoremasterMiar |
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| purplefluffychainsaw |
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| LoremasterMiar |
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| _mook_ |
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| tawar_meldis |
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| dreamdancer |
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Author
this was mooks idea, and I think it would be fun.)
