Aearrien

Daurrie, the youngest of the sons of Gurni, had once more forgotten to pick up the order of fresh cheese that was awaiting them at the markets of Bree. Lunch was served and the young Silvan handed over the rest of the tavern business to Dal, hoping to be able to rush to Bree and pick up the forgotten crate before the inn would close for the day.

A continuation of this story, meaning it is entirely unreliable and biased.

This story is an account of certain events that transpired in recent weeks, written from the perspective of Theothar. Since all is written from his (completely insane) point of view, there is a high chance none of the following is at all accurate.

(A continuaution of In Your Room, part 1)

Some few days after the company’s return from Angmar.

A flutter of fabric, over the stairs. Cloaked. Hooded.

“I am a soldier of Gondor and I will act as such. And so I will be judged.” Confident as she had been about her return in Bree, she did not feel so tall right now. 

“You have returned.” 

I thought it might be different here. 

I left you and those of your kind back in the city of swans, or so I thought. I thought the memories of you and your words would be free from my mind once I left the gated walls.

But it is not to be so. Your haunting words follow me everywhere. 

"Watch your tone." As if me speaking like a normal person means nothing and I have no reason to be upset. Just like a man to start off speaking to me in such a way, when I did nothing to warrant it.

Have you seen them?

The summer flowers wilt and break as the warm weather turns to cold, biting winds. The sun does not shine as much as it used to. The days are shorter and the lands turn from green and gold, to gray and drab.

And the sea? Have you seen our beloved sea? It is wrought with storms and no longer offers its safety.

I ask if you have seen all of these things, as if you have no sight. But is it true? Have you taken the time to notice these things?

I suppose you haven't.

Amateurs....

What ever could have prodded me to join this ragtag group of rangers. This is not where I thought my journey would bring me. I have traveled this far, thinking I would be successful in my mission. It seems there are other plans. 

Instead I am following these two rangers of Esteldin. They may count as my kin, but we could not be more different.

A cry of a gull. The crashing of waves against weathered stone. The pit-pattering of rain. The sounds of her homeland accompanied her as she departed the shining city of Dol Amroth.

"Come on, strong friend. Carry me swiftly and do not falter." She whispers to the black stallion that would take her far across the lands of the world.

Aearrien spares only one last glance at her beloved city as her faithful friend whinnies and picks up his pace, cantering into a strong gallop down the path leading from the tall gates.