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Post by Doronlas on Apr 15, 2009 19:52:14 GMT -5
Doronlas shadow in the night
The road to Algar Arda was one well traveled, weathered by hundreds of wandering feet, rutted by countless wheeled carts and beaten down by the passing gallop of at least an army's worth of horse hooves. With a sky of blue overhead and the cool winds of the autumn season, travelers often wandered to Algar Arda for the various festivities before the deep chill of winter truly set in. Along the road trees were exploding in color but on this day there were few to view their glorious displays of vivid oranges and yellows, flaming reds and earthy browns.
Huffing with the extended gallop, a handsome bay stallion made his way along the trail, angling to the right off the main road along a narrower, less traveled track. It was a relatively familiar path to both the equine and his rider, the path to the home of Lady Rowena, also known as the Scarlet Hawk for the hawk aviary she kept in the courtyard of her home. Some would think her nickname implied she was a shieldmaiden or perhaps an archer. Though she was an archer, the elf mounted upon the bay stallion knew that was far from her chosen profession. Smiling to himself, the dark-haired elf straightened a bit on the back of his stallion though it made him grimace not only from stiffness but the pains of a healing stab wound.
A horse-length back he knew his companion, Nostariel, was riding hot on his tail but he liked a bit of distance to think. Two days they had spent riding toward the home of his sister and now off the main road her home was not far. He was a bit reluctant to approach her home, not only because he had denounced his family's noble heratige but also because it would mean he would soon leave the company of the mysterious but kind elleth he had met outside of the Dancing Deer Tavern. Frowning, this time not from pain, Doronlas tugged Dagnir's dark mane lightly since the stallion wore no bridle or saddle. Dagnir slowed from gallop to canter, canter to trot.
Over the next rise would be his sister's home, a beautiful estate of white marble with a large courtyard with special netting over the courtyard to house the ten or so hawks that Rowena kept. He knew her peaceful gardens and quiet library awaited him as well as a proper healer's care but still, Doronlas was in no true hurry to once more fool the guards into letting him past the gate without making a fuss and spreading it all around that Doronlas Brithilion was back. Being the first born it would strip his sister of her title and upset the delicate balance that was the elven court which he had no intention of doing.
Slowing Dagnir to a halt, Doronlas let out a whistle that rose to a hawk circling high above. The hawk shrieked back at him and circled once before continuing to fly along the road toward his sister's home, still out of sight.
Dagnir nickered and arched his neck, curious as to the halt but quiet as his master stared into the distance. He was a good mount though obviously unhappy about traveling with another older stallion but that was part of why Doronlas had kept his mount ahead of Amarth, so Dagnir would not try to fight or act out in the presence of what he saw as an enemy.
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Post by Arlenwa Nenharma on Apr 15, 2009 20:22:42 GMT -5
Amarth's coat of silver glimmered like steel in the light, his breathing still a little even, but body had a thin layer of sweat covering his body. His stamina was still good despite he was becoming an older stallion. Nostariel pulled him to a stop, the gentlest pull on the reins and he stopped for his lady. The elf maiden glanced over at Doronlas before looking to the grand home of his sister. She smiled at the familiarity of elven architecture, comfort settling over her spirit.
The cry of a hawk met the elf's ears, but she did not look up, knowing it was most likely Doronlas'. After all, he had whistled.. what else would he have done that for? Amarth grunted underneath her and sidled away from the bay stallion in annoyance. He knew better than to attack or call to him. Young male horses usually were foolish. The silver equine snorted, his breathing again even. "Tiro na i ninniach amar.." (Look at the beautiful home) She mumured to her equine companion who merely huffed, shifting. Apparently he preferred the forests to the home of a noblewoman. "Dôl lost lîn mellon" (Your head is empty friend) Nostariel could hear Aras rolling around in 'his' bag, most likely sleeping or just falling back into it.
Nostariel could hear the other elders greeting her already in her mind, their faces wary yet excited. They had never forgiven her for leaving them, and she would most likely have to earn their support back. If she wanted to join them again that is, but the maiden preferred freedom.. fresh air, mountains. The lakes and the rivers.
Returning from the unpleasant thought she turned to look at Doronlas with a small smile. She hoped he did not feel too much pain. The wound had not been close to killing him, but without some kind of care he could have got an infection and become ill. Then she would be held responsible, not that she cared what others thought, and she would have given her services to the family until he was well. Perhaps the lady would do that anyway, and pay the debt Nostariel felt obligated to pay. It was her fault he had been distracted from his travels and injured in the first place.
{Word Count: 378}
{Notes: ...}
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Post by Doronlas on Apr 15, 2009 20:44:59 GMT -5
Doronlas did not need to turn his head to know that his companion was beside him, Amarth snorting grumpily at Dagnir making the bay stallion twitch in irritation. Absentmindedly he made a mental note to request stalls apart for the two or they would be driving each other mad throughout their short stay in Rowena's pastures or stable, whichever was chosen. His vivid green gaze was fixed upon the house, watching as the small form of Olmec circled it, crying out once again in a regal screech. He was waiting...waiting...
There.
From a balcony, a hawk took flight and cried back to Olmec. It was not the same type of hawk as Olmec, its vivid red tail marking it a Red-tailed hawk, more specifically the hawk Morab that Doronlas had left with his sister. His keen elven eyes watched as the two hawks wheeled about together before flying back toward where Dagnir and Amarth stood. The two hawks wheeled over the pair of horses once and then twice before Morab swooped lower. Doronlas raised his right arm in time for the bird's powerful talons to latch on. His brown wings folded neatly and the bird glared at Doronlas with his keen golden eyes, almost appearing accusing.
"Suilad Morab, mellon nin" Doronlas said to the bird, smiling at the familiar but fierce bird. (Greetings Morab, my friend).
Morab's talons tightened on Doronlas' arm for a moment before the powerful bird pushed off and spread his wings again with a chortle. Flapping around Armath and Nostariel, the bird squawked strangely before flying back toward the house to the stairs leading to the doors. Standing on the stares was a woman small even by the slender elven standard. She was shorter than some but slender and modestly built. She wore a full-length scarlet dress made of light shimmering material that caught the sun. Trimmed in gold, the dress had wide bell-sleeves and seemed to flow as the young elleth descended the stairs. Her long dark hair was twisted up and held in place by golden pins, her dark brown eyes keen as those of any hawk with Morab on her shoulder. She was Lady Rowena, the Scarlet Hawk.
Doronlas shot a smile to Nostariel before leading the way with Dagnir at a walk until they were at the base of the stair. Dismounting as Rowena descended toward them, Doronlas bowed slightly and smiled.
"Suilad Rowena-híril, im tulo Nostariel-híril na lín herth" Doronlas said. (Greetings Lady Rowena, I bring Lady Nostariel to your household)
Rowena smiled and inclined her head politely but did not bow so as to not upset Morab. "Suilad Nostariel-híril. It is not often my brother brings a visitor to my home though you are most welcome. Is it council you seek or perhaps something else?" Rowena asked, her voice soft but wise, dark eyes searching the lady. (Greetings Lady Nostariel)
It was very very seldom Doronlas ever brought anyone with him to her home. In fact, this was probably the first time. She hoped it was not because her brother had been an idiot though she doubted it. Not that a lady such as Nostariel was out of his league but it was simply unlikely. Still, miracle were known to occur from time to time.
Olmec squawked and settled himself on the banister of the marble staircase, faint marks in the fine marble from generations of birds doing much the same.
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Post by Arlenwa Nenharma on Apr 16, 2009 16:56:17 GMT -5
The elf watched the birds in silence, admiring the strength and beauty of the two creatures. Both were different, but equally beautiful. The fierce beauty reminded her of an elven warrior in battle, and her eyes lit up with the similarities between the two things.
One of the birds perched on Doronlas' arm for a moment. "Suilad Morab, mellon nin" Morab? She ran the name through her head to associate it with the bird, wondering if it could define his personality. As Doronlas smiled at her for a moment, she let a small grin creep along the fullness of her lips. Amarth followed Dagnir, making up for his not being in front by holding himself high and stepping in a regal manner.
Nostariel dismounted, easing herself out of the saddle quietly, and turned to face the radiant elf before her, a small, polite smile on her lips. "Suilad Rowena-híril, im tulo Nostariel-híril na lín herth" Nostariel dipped her head in greeting and respect, her usual greeting, and still smiling, she studied Rowena. "Suilad Nostariel-híril. It is not often my brother brings a visitor to my home though you are most welcome. Is it council you seek or perhaps something else?"
"Gîl síla na lû govaded Rowena-híril. Rim hennaid." (A star shines on the time of our meeting Lady Rowena. Many thanks.) "I have come to make sure Doronlas arrives safely. We had a little incident." Nostariel's eyes flickered over to Doronlas for a moment, wondering if she had revealed too much. Although she most likely hadn't. After all, he would need proper care for his wound. A few plants would not keep infection at bay for long. She decided not to mention his injury as Doronlas would surely explain to his sister later on.
{Word Count: 292}
{Notes: Muse is not too great, but I try! Wasn't sure what to have Nostariel do either... =S}
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Post by Doronlas on Apr 16, 2009 17:13:11 GMT -5
'Traitor.'
The word flitted into Doronlas' mind the instant his injury was mentioned. He winced and glanced wearily at his sister as if deciding whether to flee now or wait out her wrath. Doronlas met his sister's gaze to find a frown upon her youthful face and her eyes flashing dangerously as she assessed him, probably seeking signs of blood he had spent hours cleaning out of his tunic. Hastily the young archer raised his hands in a sign of surrender. "Peace sister, the wound was not a grave one" Doronlas insisted. "Loose your fury upon drunks, not your kin."
Rowena glanced at Nostariel as if saying "Can you believe him?" without words. Turning back to her brother, Rowena, despite being shorter than him, seemed taller and quite threatening. "You'll go to the healers now then unless you'd like my flock to poke you until you do and they will do it."
Doronlas glanced at Morab and Olmec, fully believing both birds would indeed call upon the flock of exotic hawks his sister kept. Still he had no love of healers and therefore no desire to see one unless he lay dying. "Rowena, is that really necessary? It's only a scratch I promise and your healers are horrid" Doronlas added, pulling a face.
"Very well, be a fool then. When you pass out or spike a fever, I'll be sure to leave you be."
Rowena's words were curt, almost cruel but it was only because she knew Doronlas was stubborn on the subject of healers. He would be easier to get to the infirmary if he was passed out anyway. Making a mental note to have his wine spiked at dinner to knock him out, Rowena turned her gaze back to Nostariel and inclined her head in a polite apology for their sibling spat.
"My apologies Lady Nostariel, you must think us barbarians. Would you like to rest your horse before you depart? I'm sure being in my brother's company is quite tiring." He dark brown eyes glittered with quiet amusement.
Being a soft spoken woman, Rowena was little known in the court until they needed her hawks but though she was quiet, Rowena knew quite a bit about the court and its members. Though Nostariel's name was not one Rowena was immediately familiar with she was sure she might have heard it in passing whispers at one banquet or another. Usually however, being mainly a strategist and intellectual woman, Rowena often spent most of her time in her home but gathered quite a bit of information from her flock of hawks.
Doronlas, sensing danger had passed for now, made a note to drink not but from his own flask until he was sure Rowena's protectiveness had passed. Patting Dagnir's neck, the archer watched as the bay turned and walked contentedly toward the stable in the shade of several oaks, going on his own and looking happy enough to be doing so. Lifting his arm, Doronlas whistled softly to Olmec and the hawk fluttered from the marble banister to Doronlas' arm, settling there, seeming relatively content though he was probably eyeing the field mice hiding in the grass of the pastures.
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Post by Arlenwa Nenharma on Apr 16, 2009 17:41:03 GMT -5
"Peace sister, the wound was not a grave one" Nostariel looked over at Doronlas. Had she said too much? "Loose your fury upon drunks, not your kin." Apparently. A flicker of mild amusement shone in her eyes.
Nostariel merely shook her head at the look, smiling slightly. "You'll go to the healers now then unless you'd like my flock to poke you until you do and they will do it." A smirk formed along the fullness of her lips, and she shifted quietly.
"Rowena, is that really necessary? It's only a scratch I promise and your healers are horrid." The smirk grew into a broad grin. This reminded her of how she had her cousin Beriadan acted when one of them was wounded. Although Nostariel had not expected this to come from Lady Rowena.. but then again, she had only just met her.
"My apologies Lady Nostariel, you must think us barbarians. Would you like to rest your horse before you depart? I'm sure being in my brother's company is quite tiring." Nostariel's grin disappeared quickly as Lady Rowena spoke to her. "There is nothing to forgive Lady Rowena. I understand what it is like. My cousin and I often bicker with each other about similar things." Rest her horse? Nostariel let her polite smile form, and shifted again, feeling slightly uncomfortable at an unpleasant thought. "No, but thank you for your offer. I have business I must attend to before I am allowed any time for myself. Besides, I am sure you two would like to catch up and enjoy each others company."
{Word Count: 261}
{Notes: I tried to write what I remembered.. =S}
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Post by Doronlas on Apr 16, 2009 17:54:04 GMT -5
Doronlas glanced from Nostariel to Rowena, slightly weary of being alone in his sister's company now. With her flock it was amazing what Rowena could convince someone to do with say...the poke of a beak. He had no wish to go to the healers but nor did he like the idea of being glowered at by ten, no eleven, hawks. Still maybe if he kept his eyes open and kept to drinking from a flask he could avoid one of her nasty habits of knocking him out to get him to the healers? Not likely but he could try.
"Very well, if you find yourself in need of messengers or scouts in the future my hawks are open to your service. Thank you for returning my brother" Rowena said, smiling, her overall manner inviting and warm.
It always astounded Doronlas how welcoming his sister could be when she herself was not often well known or welcome among many others. She was shy when not properly introduced to someone and did have quite a temper at times but he knew her love of books and her devotion to the flock she kept would most likely be a ball and chain to her for eternity. Sighing softly to himself, Doronlas turned to Nostariel and offered her his friendly, easy smile that fit well on his handsome face with green eyes alight.
"Traveling with you has been an honor Nostariel, I hope we meet in the future. If you find yourself in need of an archer come to my sister. No matter where I roam Morab will be able to find me, it is his purpose and that of his descendants." Doronlas nodded to the neat but feirce red-tailed hawk perched upon his sister's shoulder. Morab's golden eyes watched Nostariel, all buisness and proper. "How long will you be in Algar Arda?"
He did enjoy Nostariel's company. Perhaps it was because he seldom had proper company but Doronlas found hers particularly enjoyable. Of course she was a lovely elleth both in personality and physical beauty but Doronlas had to remind himself he wasn't exactly the type ladies of any court swooned for despite his looks and charm. It was the wandering life that put off many including old friends he had had in the outpost many many years ago. They still lived but had marginally forgotten his existence. Most likely it would be that way with Nostariel as well. An elleth of her influence would most likely not remember an elf lord running from a title he did not want.
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Post by Arlenwa Nenharma on Apr 16, 2009 18:34:57 GMT -5
"Very well, if you find yourself in need of messengers or scouts in the future my hawks are open to your service. Thank you for returning my brother" Nostariel showed her thanks and respect. "Rim hennaid Rowena-híril" (Many thanks Lady Rowena) Nostariel heard Amarth snorting behind her. "Gelir na thaed. No in elenath hîlar nan hâd gîn" (Happy to help. May all stars shine on your path) Nostariel smiled kindly, unease already setting in as she turned to face Doronlas.
"Traveling with you has been an honor Nostariel, I hope we meet in the future. If you find yourself in need of an archer come to my sister. No matter where I roam Morab will be able to find me, it is his purpose and that of his descendants." Nostariel's smile blossomed, the uneasy feeling leaving her, if not for a moment. "It has been an honor traveling with you as well Doronlas." She paused, studying his face for a moment, then looking into his eyes she spoke again, "I do believe we will meet again." Nostariel pulled her gaze away from Doronlas and turned, mounting Amarth who huffed impatiently. "I will remain here for at least a week.. perhaps longer. Namárië..." And with that, the silver stallion whipped around and galloped out of the gates, Nostariel didn't look back, her blue-green eyes set straight ahead.
Nostariel turned Amarth along a cobblestone path that lead to the palace, her head spinning with many thoughts and of course the unease that had first begun to plague her at Lady Rowena's home. The silver stallion was halted and his lady dismounted, handing the reins to a small stableboy. "Le hannon." She mummered, rubbing her temples briefly.
"Lady Nostariel Almárëa Megil Lambe"(Last part is sword tongue) Nostariel strode into the large, open room, the other coucil members staring at her with wary, but welcoming eyes.
"Ah, Lady Nostariel. I see you have come to taunt us again. Only answer this question, then you may leave. Will you rejoin the council.. or will you not?" A male elf with silver, braided hair stood, moving towards her from his chair. Nostariel bowed her head slightly. "I come only to give news."
"You will return to us?"
"No, I-"
"Megil Lambe," He addressed her by the nickname given her by them. "We need you in our ranks to negotiate a treaty between Anorith and Battonia." He spoke strenly, glaring almost.
"I will think about your offer if you will hold a meeting so I may tell you what I know. It is crucial and the outcome may decide the fate of Aglar Arda." The silver haired elf glared, but sighed, sitting back down. "As you wish. In three days time at midday."
Tongue Lambe (Q, lahm-bay) Sword Megil (meh-gill)
{Word Count: 449}
{Notes: Accidently made her kind of rude at the beginning.. and sorry about the last part. Just wanted to make it a little longer.}
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Post by Doronlas on Apr 16, 2009 18:57:21 GMT -5
Doronlas watched, a bit sadly, as Amarth galloped away with Nostariel. His keen elven sight watched her until both lady and stallion were gone from even his eyes and the hand of his sister rested on his shoulder, drawing him from his thoughts. Rowena's gaze was intelligent, lightly amused and yet sad at the same time. Morab had abandoned his perch upon her shoulder, having gone to settle perhaps with the other nine hawks his sister kept. Rowena spoke softly to Olmec and the hawk too flight, circling before taking flight toward the place where Doronlas knew the palace of Algar Arda was.
"Why do you send him to Algar Arda?" Doronlas asked, sounding a bit tired.
"There are dark times coming my brother. Your arrival with Lady Nostariel has confirmed some of my suspicions of danger lurking in the south but talk such as that is for safer quarters. Come, you will go to the healers and then your room to rest. Dagnir will be well and Olmec will return when he has something to tell."
"I find it humorous you have more control of my hawk than I do" Doronlas mentioned, following his red-cloaked sister up the marble steps.
Rowena laughed, the sound musical and a long-lasting rememberance of times long ago when their home had been much different. "It was a simple request. I told him it was for your safety. He would do anything for the sake of that alone."
Following his sister into her home, Doronlas sighed. It was always his sister's home, never what he considered his own. To him, home was a lonely outpost with a small community of elves, no real formalities and trees all around. Though it was obvious that Rowena invited nature into her home whenever and wherever possible, it was never the forests he was so familiar with. Tree branches grew right into the rooms and vines climbed the smooth marble columns but it was not the same.
Sighing, Doronlas allowed himself to herded though he could sense his sister's concern for him when he winced as pain shot through the stab in his side.
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Post by Arlenwa Nenharma on Apr 16, 2009 19:30:18 GMT -5
Nostariel walked through the palace halls, her long white gown billowing out and around her like a ghost. She stared coldly at a pair of guards until they recognized who she was and moved to let her pass. "Our mistake Megil Lambe." They bowed, grimacing at her fierce look. Nostariel narrowed her eyes, a thing she only did when someone truly deserved her anger, but the guards did not.. The elf didn't care at the moment. She was enraged. "My name is Lady Nostariel, not that horrible name the council gave me." "Our mistake-" "It is fine. Let me pass."
They bowed their heads as she walked by and walked down a few more hallways until she reached her old room. She stopped as she opened the door, stunned. It was exactly as she had left it, and it looked as though it had been well kept. She walked further into the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Her fingers trailed against a book she had left sitting on the table beside her bed years ago. A tree branch nearly stuck in through her balcony, and a mass of pillows for Aras still remained on the floor. And there, in the middle of the pillows was Aras himself, sleeping soundly.
Nostariel sighed. The council had not believed her. An army was coming. Several hundred men that carried a weapon that would be able to destroy the six walls protecting Aglar Arda. Why! Why can they not just accept I am no longer one of them.. They have to believe. The elf pressed her hands into her face, holding back tears of anger. She backed up, sitting on the edge of the bed.
A pecking sound brought her head back up from her hands, confusion plain on her face. She moved to the window and opening it, she found Olmec. The hawk of Doronlas. "What are you doing here?" Her mind whirred, trying to come to a logical conclusion. "Is he worse? I am going back to Lady Rowena's home.." The latter was more of a confirmation of her plan to herself, and she rushed from the room and to the stables.
Amarth picked his head up at the sound of his lady's light footsteps, chewing expectantly. He grunted quietly as Nostariel saddled him and slipped a bridle onto his noble head. "Drego Amarth!" (Flee Amarth) The stallion galloped swiftly, his mane flying back in Nostariel's face.
The silver equine slid to a halt in front of Lady Rowena's home.
{Word Count: 413}
{Notes: Meow.}
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Post by Doronlas on Apr 16, 2009 19:55:42 GMT -5
Perched upon the window ledge outside of Nosatriel's room, Olmec grumpily preened his white chest feathers. He had been asked by his master's nestmate to watch the Kind Lady that had helped his injured master. Now however, the elleth had been gone many hours and Olmec had grown tired of circling the palace and taken to his current perch. Huffing the hawk equivalent of a sigh, Olmec's head swiveled up to see the fair lady in her rooms again at last. Her body language was unhappy, eyes full of frustration which was something Olmec, as a fierce natured hawk, understood well enough though he found it seldom in the Good People.
Before he could take wing, the lady saw him and seemed to take panic in his being there. Shrieking in dismay at being caught, Olmec took to the winds, heading for his temporary nest in the halls of his master's nestmate.
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Rowena, clothed now in a fine gown of forest green trimmed in silver, sighed for the millionth time as she sat before a low midday fire in her study. The balcony doors were open letting in the cool breeze, her eldest albino hawk Snowfall was perched on the balcony banister soaking the sunlight into her solid white feathers. Closing the book she had been trying to translate from a forgotten tongue, Rowena rose from her seat and took to the balcony. Doronlas was about somewhere, most likely training one of the stable boys with a bow like he usually did during his visits but Rowena was unable to share his ease.
Coming into the sunlight, Rowena stroked Snowfall's white-feathered head. Looking up at the road leading to her home, Rowena was surprised to find Olmec flying toward her. Raising her arm, Rowena caught the hawk in time for his talons to latch onto her arm as he flew in a fast descent. He seemed ruffled and grumpier than usual which made Rowena frown.
"What misfortune follows you mellon nin?" Rowena asked worriedly as Snowfall chortled, startled at the sudden company.
Before Rowena could find any information from the hawk's perturbed mind, the sound of horse hooves came from the road below. Looking down with Olmec still on her arm, Rowena saw the silver stallion from three days ago bearing down toward her home. Frowning, Rowena raised her arm and Olmec took flight.
"Glenno Doronlas" Rowena instructed. (Go to Doronlas)
Wheeling once as Nostariel's mount drew nearer, Olmec flew away toward the back fields where Rowena kept targets for Doronlas when he visited. Raising her arm, Rowena let Snowfall settle her stunning white self upon her arm before turning and sweeping out of her study. Brushing past her servents and confused staff, Rowena came to the main entrance of her estate. Pushing the door open with her free hand, Rowena stopped at the top of the stairs as Amarth drew to a halt.
"Lady Nostariel, what is the cause of your distress?" Rowena asked worriedly, Snowfall shifting her white wings. "Have things gone ill at the palace?"
She decided to play innocent, which was very easy for the petite elleth, unless Nostariel demanded to know why Olmec had been lurking. Or perhaps she had not even seen Olmec? Perhaps she had come for her own reasons though Rowena could not ponder what of many things might have gone wrong enough for the lady to come to her home rather than the home of a more prominent elven house.
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Post by Arlenwa Nenharma on Apr 16, 2009 20:08:57 GMT -5
Nostariel dismounted, frowning, worry evident on her face. "Lady Nostariel, what is the cause of your distress?" Lady Rowena spoke, and Nostariel gathered her thoughts. "Have things gone ill at the palace?
"I- Olmec-" Nostariel bit her lip. "Yes but, I saw Olmec at my window. I thought Doronlas had become ill. I was worried so I came here." The elf frowned. "Is he well?" Amarth snorted, chewing at the bit in his mouth, sweat covering his flanks.
Nostariel's mind drifted back to the council that had been called at her request. They had all stared coldly, but longingly as she spoke. The elf didn't want to understand why they wanted her back within their ranks. She didn't want the power or title, though it did come in handy. The forests called to her. The people called to her. Elves had gained a less than respectable repuatation in the freelands and even in Anorith. The Battonians waited, ready to corrupt any elf that happened in their way.
"Am I mistaken?" She shifted, pressing her left hand to her arm for a moment, and then taking it away she left it hang at her side. Did she know of the troops advancing on Aglar Arda? Did she know of Nostariel's former position among the council and the meeting that had been held not long ago in the day?
{Word Count: 225}
{Notes:}
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Post by Doronlas on Apr 16, 2009 20:24:33 GMT -5
Mentally Rowena winced. Olmec had been spotted and was why Nostariel had returned. Ah, well things couldn't always go as planned. She was perturbed to find that things were most likely not going as planned in the palace. Since she hadn't had time to find anything from Olmec, Rowena still remained relatively in the dark except for what her gut told her. At the moment her gut was saying something was quite wrong but also that it seemed Nostariel's worry for her brother was something to pay attention to. Perhaps they had bonded more than she had thought? Doronlas was an easy elf to love, charming and brave though sometimes a fool in his bravery.
"Olmec was running an errand for me in the palace" Rowena said, stroking Snowfall's white head. "He perhaps sensed your distress? He is a very intuitive hawk. I am glad to say my brother is well, in the training grounds perhaps showing a few stable boys his prowess with a bow."
Snowfall lit from Rowena's arm, her white body seeming to float like a ghost toward Nostariel. The blue-eyed albino circled Nostariel and Amarth, crooning and chortling in hawk fashion. The she-hawk circled three times before returning to Rowena's arm and chortling at her mistress. Rowena soothed the hawk with a caress.
"I sense darkness at our gates Lady Nostariel. Snowfall seems certain you bring troubled news but news is not to be given in the open. Come, I will call Doronlas and you can see with your own eyes he is well. A stable boy will retrieve your mount and give him rest."
Giving no chance for Nostariel to decline, Rowena lifted her arm. Snowfall took flight in a whirl of shining white feathers, taking off toward the training grounds mostly used by her small collection of guards and her brother during his visits. Turning, the green-dressed court lady led the way up the stair and into her home. Nodding to a servant, Rowena turned and led the way into an open sitting room with large windows letting a lot of sunlight. A few vines were growing through the open window like creeping fingers enclosed on the sills.
Seating herself on a sofa, Rowena nodded to the one opposite her. A rich brown hawk perched in the corner raised his head from under his red wing and screeched softly at his lady, piercing eyes nailing Nostariel when the lady entered the room.
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Post by Arlenwa Nenharma on Apr 17, 2009 7:02:07 GMT -5
"Olmec was running an errand for me in the palace" Brows furrowed, and Nostariel nodded. Alright, it didn't sound like the whole truth, but the elf trusted Lady Rowena anyway. "He perhaps sensed your distress? He is a very intuitive hawk. I am glad to say my brother is well, in the training grounds perhaps showing a few stable boys his prowess with a bow." She smiled slightly. At least she had been wrong. Doronlas was well.
"I sense darkness at our gates Lady Nostariel. Snowfall seems certain you bring troubled news but news is not to be given in the open. Come, I will call Doronlas and you can see with your own eyes he is well. A stable boy will retrieve your mount and give him rest." The elf nodded, knowing already there would be no protests tolerated with Lady Rowena. The elf let Amarth be led away, and she followed Rowena into her home.
Nostariel stared at the hawk quietly as she walked in, sitting where instructed. The elf's slender but capable fingers pulled at the folds of her white dress, the gold color stitched to the collar, the color glinting somewhat as she shifted to make herself as comfortable as she could. It made her uneasy thinking of how she would present her thoughts to the other two. It was usually such an easy task for Nostariel, but she didn't feel the same in the room of a home instead of a large, open meeting room with all the other council members staring at you. This felt a little more 'personal'.
{Word Count: 264}
{Notes: Whee!}
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Post by Doronlas on Apr 17, 2009 16:50:39 GMT -5
Before Rowena could speak to Nostariel, her keen elven ears caught the sound of wings in the hall. She turned to look toward the door, the beads and hawk feathers braided into her hair clinking softly with the movement. From his perch, Antari shuffled his wings as the powerful ivory form of Snowfall flew into the room followed by the bigger hulk of feathers that was Olmec. Snowfall circled the room once before sweeping out of it again, most likely bound for Rowena's study which was her most common hideaway when not in the courtyard aviary. Olmec chortled a hawk-greeting at Nostariel before settling himself on a second stand across the room from Antari's.
Following the birds, Doronlas jogged into the room. He had chosen an outfit of muted browns and earthy greens, dark hair once more braided in the fashion of an archer. Boots of soft leather covered his feet and his quiver was once more strapped against his back. His handsomely carved bow was held in his hand, vivid green eyes flicking from Rowena to Nostariel. When he caught sight of Nostariel, surprise jolted through the male archer. He snapped to attention like a soldier when the Sargent walked past. He bowed at the waist, right hand fisted over his heart in a typical salute and greeting to a lord or lady.
"Suilad, Nostariel-híril, im gelir ceni ad lín" Doronlas said, rising from his bow. (Greetings Lady Nostariel, I am happy to see you again)
His green eyes lingered on Nostariel's gaze, a small friendly smile on his handsome face before he looked toward his sister, gaze turning from friendly to curious.
"Doronlas, gwanur nin, how do you fair?" Rowena asked, smiling to her brother and seeming to relax.
"I am well but I doubt that question alone was the reason for your call?" Doronlas said, his eyes going from Rowena to Nostariel as he leaned his bow against the wall and unbuckled his quiver.
Leaving the quiver beside the bow, Doronlas took a seat, his eyes searching Nostariel's as though for answers. "Presto-le elu" Doronlas murmured, knowing her elven hearing would enable her to hear him. (You feel troubled)
From his perch, Olmec chortled as Antari took flight, soaring on red wings out of the room. Unlike the Harris Hawk however, Olmec did not leave but instead fluttered to perch on the arm of Nostariel's seat. His keen eyes watched the lady with a strange mix of curiosity and intent deliberation.
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