Mithreye

[Tar-Ancalimë]

The rider galloped into town, racing against the harsh wind, hard-pressed to maintain his pace.

A villager spotted the dark figure on the horizon—the first approach the town had seen for months—and immediately forgot his own business. He turned and ran to the town square.

“Sound the alarm!” he cried out to the villagers. “A messenger is coming!”

“A messenger is coming!” The cry echoed through the town.

Soon every villager was assembled in the square, utterly abandoning all other activity. The excitement hadn’t been higher since their men had marched away to the war.

The last news that had been received was encouraging—the enemy was badly out numbered, their allies were abandoning them, and their fall was imminent.

However, that had been months ago, and some repercussions of momentous events had reached even this small town—every villager had felt the disruption in the earth and the shaking of the mountains. The silence had added to their trepidation, and now they were overly anxious to hear any new tidings.

The rider made it into the town on a horse pushed to the limit, exhausted and spent. He galloped into the square, in no better condition than his steed, and faced the villagers with his news.

Even before he opened his mouth, they knew the news was bad. His grim face and drawn brows did not bode well.

“Lord Sauron is defeated; he fell by his own craft,” he gasped out.

The villagers were shocked; they had feared ill news, but they were not prepared to hear that their lord and leader had fallen. They exchanged worried looks, but the rider was not finished yet.

“The armies of Gondor have already marched on Umbar. None has the strength to resist them since Mordor fell.”

Already marched on Umbar—this was terrifying. The armies of Gondor had never been a real threat to this village, for their size and the threats to their homeland made conquering anything an impossibility. But if Umber—a region which had always resisted Gondor—was fallen, it would be only a matter of time before they reached this village.

But the real shock was yet to come—

“Gondor has crowned a king!”

A collective gasp of incredulity and disbelief came from the villagers. A king? There had not been a king for hundreds of years—Gondor had not been strong for hundreds of years—the “inferior bloodlines” of men had not been under its sway for hundreds of years. To the villagers listening to this news, the tales of the old days of tyranny and enslavement by the high kings and noble descendants of the Númenoreans were far off children’s tales, little more than myth.

“Gondor is preparing to march on these lands. They will be here in weeks.” The messenger collapsed, his tale brought, and his strength spent.

A few villagers were sensible enough to tend to him and his horse; the rest stood in the square, the level of panic gradually rising.

“Lord Sauron defeated?! How?”

“A king? But the kings are all dead, and the stewards weak.”

“In days of old we weren’t free. Our ancestors were bound to work for those of high blood.”

“Our village will be ravaged and our children enslaved!”

The leader of the town stepped out and attempted to restore order. “Calm yourselves! Panicking will achieve nothing.”

“But what can we do?” a woman cried. “Our men are all gone, dead in the war.”

“We can do nothing!” another cried. “They will come and enslave us as of old!”

The leader raised her voice. “We mustn’t despair. Our ancestors survived, as can we.”

[Little Devil]

Very good start, keep it up! :thumbs:

[Elven Daughter]

Very nice touch to the original story of LoTR. I like it. Can I ask you a favor? Will you read my story, or at least part of it? I need more opinions on it. It's called Concealed Sunshine.

[Tar-Ancalimë]

ah i started it, but im too busy to keep up with the stories in here but for one or two of them :huh:

[Beleglotiel]

Well, Tar, interesting. Turned the tables around, eh? See what it's like from the "enemies" point of veiw. This should be good :thumbs:

[Bess the Bard]

This really will be interesting. I like the point that the old Numenoreans had done some things in their power and arrogance they should not be too proud of. But, of course, Aragorn is different. :grin:

[Mirkgirl]

Nice work honster... I agree with most of what they said ;)

Ah well dont shoot me... that's a great topic IMO... to see it through the view of the ordinary people, allies to Sauron... and completely undeveloped from what Ive seen... how the victory of good can strike some people as bad and so on... over with my rant

Anyways ... I love the idea... and I like what Ive read so far... post the next part soon :p

[Tar-Ancalimë]

Thanks all for your comments... i appreciate them...

and yes i hope it will be interesting... the story does not stay like the introduction mostly... all my first post did was to set up the story and all this one does is introduces the main character

[Tar-Ancalimë]

A young girl of the village, Mithreye, turned away to her duties with a heavy heart. Her father had been out there, fighting for Lord Sauron, and so surly must be dead. She grieved for him with all her heart. She had been closer to no one in this world.

Another part of her could not yet imagine her settled life disrupted by the men of Gondor enslaving her and her kinsmen. She gazed out to the north, her heart wondering what could have happened to defeat Lord Sauron. The mountains of Mordor could be clearly seen—Mordor, the land that had promised to defeat their enemies, and promised to free them, the lower races of men scarred and estranged by those of noble blood. Mordor, where all the villagers’ hopes had lain.

Mithreye had never been out of her village. She sometimes dreamed of the lands outside, but always dismissed her fantasies lightly. Now, facing the prospect of an enemy people enslaving her village, she seriously considered the possibility of leaving.

But where to go? And how? No, she decided, it was not really possible. Besides, how could she desert her mother and friends to do so?

She lowered her eyes, wondering how bad life would be under the rule of Gondor, too grieved to gaze upon Mordor any longer.

But turning south, she lifted her eyes upon her homeland. Her village was on the very border of Near Harad, a vulnerable position. The rider had spoken truly that it was only a matter of weeks.

[Beleglotiel]

Cool, now let's see what happens to her..............;)

[Gatsby]

what a unique story idea... i can't wait to see what happens
out
gatsby

[Bess the Bard]

Yes, getting more and more interesting. Truly can't wait to see where you go with this one.

[Tar-Ancalimë]

well unlike my last one i have not written it all yet... so ill be posting as soon as i write more.... and, this is possibly a first with me, i do have a plot worked out in my head :grin:

again thanks all for your comments. its encouraging to have such comments and i assure you they will make me want to write faster :)

[Tar-Ancalimë]

The next day, as Mithreye was tending to her family’s stock, the messenger, his strength somewhat recovered and prepared to press on, approached her.

She turned to him, eyes wide. “Yes?”

“Greetings, young lady. Are you Mithreye?”

She nodded. “That is my name.”

“I have tidings of special interest to you. I fought alongside your father throughout the last battle.”

Her mouth fell open slightly. “My father! What news of him?” Dared she hope there was a chance he might yet be alive?

He nodded. “After Lord Sauron fell, and his orcs no longer fought beside us, and we knew the war was lost, most of us—” his voice broke off. She tilted her head slightly at him. “Most of us fled. But your father was one to stay, and stay he did.”

Mithreye’s eyes grew wide again.

He continued, “He died more valiantly than the rest, for even as he fell, he cut down a proud captain of Gondor.”

She was silent, and he inclined his head to her. “I hope his valor brings you solace.”

She watched him go with tears in her eyes.

[Beleglotiel]

Oooooh, how sad! But, man, I don't know if i should be happy for the 'good guys' or the 'bad guys' !!:huh:

[Bess the Bard]

I agree with Bel. But that, my friend, is the mark of a good story. :gofatty:

Looking forward to more, as ever.

[Mirkgirl]

Aw I love this story more and more... post more soon honster

[Pil]

Ooo Tar! I read this last night like i said i would....and there's more today! :) :) :)

This is sooo good, a really different take on the war of the ring. It's interesting to see things from a different perspective. Keep this up Tar, i look forward to seeing how things will go for Mithreye. :thumbs:

Thanks for posting and we await the next part! :p

[Beleglotiel]

:duh: lol

[Tar-Ancalimë]

Again, I really appreciate your comments. Bele--an idea that i will try to develop is there are no 'good guys' and 'bad guys' ... well i wont give away anything, but ill return to this a lot ;)

Bess--as I said I really love it when those whose work I love read my work :)
this applies of course to everyone else who has reviewed... save mirky :p.... but i thank you especially :)

mirky--aww i love you more and more... btw where are you today, sleeping i know, but i miss you *sniff*

pil-- great! i'm so glad you read it, i know how busy you are... and remember dont overload yourself lol.... (ps did you really put a boromir? teehee)

[Tar-Ancalimë]

In the days following the messenger’s announcement, the villagers were unable to keep up any semblance of organization. Spring was coming, and the ground needed to be broken and the crops resown. When it came to it, however, the life in the village was so listless, little was done.

Moral was low, and always the people looked for the coming of the armies of Gondor. With such little prospect for the future, it was generally deemed not worthwhile to keep up life in the village.

The leader tried in vain to think for the future, and to move the village to action. Mithreye didn’t relish the prospect of starving, but she could not sow the fields by herself. What little she could do; she did. After a week passed from the day the news was brought, two fields had been readied.

Mithreye’s mother had taken to sitting in the house most of the day, after the news of her husband’s death was brought to her. She didn’t speak much to anyone, and Mithreye hardly knew if she was grieving for her husband or resigning herself to the village’s fate.

Until one evening, when Mithreye was fixing dinner from what little was left of the winter’s store, her mother came from the other room where she had passed the day.

“Mithreye,” she said.

[Bess the Bard]

Very good. What I always like about your writing, Tar, is the stark, honest way you deal with your character's emotions. It's very compelling, especially in this story where we're not quite sure whose side we're on.

[Mirkgirl]

yeah I agree with Bess ;) (dont strangle me honster)

You made me post after all... I already said what I think in person lol.. why dont you all come chat (http://www.warofthering.net/chat.shtml) to tell her how much you like/dont like (well.. might be) her work :P

[Pil]

Originally posted by Tar-Ancalimë
(ps did you really put a boromir? teehee)

I have a selection of piccies and i'm deciding at the mo! lol

That was a lovely update...we can see how other people are reacting to mithreye's situation... :thumbs:

We await the next part anxiously! :)

[Beleglotiel]

Nice, Tar! :thumbs: keep it up!

[Tar-Ancalimë]

thanks, all, once again....

yeah, definately tell me what you think in chat (http://www.warofthering.net/chat.shtml), its fun and plus it needs more people lol

:drool:...boromir.... eeek how do i manage to mention boromir all the time, im starting to sound like adun :p (jk adun if you ever read this lol)

[Tar-Ancalimë]

Startled, Mithreye turned around, surprised to see her mother up. “Yes, Mother? Dinner is almost ready.”

She shook her head. “It is not of dinner that I wish to talk. Mith, the armies of Gondor will come soon, it’s inevitable.”

She frowned, wondering why her mother thought it was necessary to restate this. “So I have heard,” she answered diplomatically.

“We have all felt it—the world is changed.”

Mithreye nodded, continuing to prepare the food.

“Mith, listen to me.”

Mithreye gave her a brief glance. “I am listening.”

“I want you to leave this village.”

Astounded, Mithreye dropped the bowl onto the floor. Without picking it up, she echoed, “Leave?”

Her mother nodded.

“How? Where? Why?”

“Mith, listen to me. I know this must come as a shock, but I want you to get out of here. I will not live to see you enslaved to these armies.”

Her mouth opened. “But, Mother, how? I know nothing of the outside lands. Nothing.”

“I know. Yet I know you can do this. You are a strong woman, Mith, and you can make it.

“I thought at first to send you deeper into Harad, but it will not be long until the entire land falls.”

Mithreye slowly bent down and picked up the bowl. She thought her mother must be mad. Leave this village, when she had lived here all her life? Not travel to Harad, when it was the only land likely to stay free?

“But where then? Harad is—”

“Hush, child. Harad will fall shortly after we fall. The messenger was right, Gondor will not ignore their enemies.”

“But—”

Her mother cut her off again. “You must travel to Gondor itself. Harondor will not be under any threat of attack.”

Mithreye dropped her bowl again. “Gon—Gondor!?” She choked on the very word.

Her mother nodded. “I have given much thought to this, Mith. ‘Tis the only safe place.”

Mithreye shook her head wordlessly. She bent down to pick up the bowl yet again. “Mother,” she began gently. “It’s out of the question. Gondor is the last place on earth I would want to be. I doubt that a land which conquers its enemies so ruthlessly would be kind to even its own. And I should never be able to find a place in that land.”

“Mith, the life in Gondor is not so hard as you imagine.”

“But, Mother, how should I fare among them? They would hardly accept me.”

“You would never need to say you come from Harad. There are many of the race of lesser men still living in Harondor; you would not be so very different.”

“But what could I do? I would not even know how to make my way to this place, or what to do once I got there.”

Her mother was silent for a few moments, leaving Mithreye to turn to her cooking, frowning over her mother’s sudden and odd idea. No… it could never work. She shook her head and said as much to her mother again.

The reply she received this time was, “Mith, consider it. If you do not wish to leave, I shall not force it on you. But, believe me, ‘tis possible. You can do it.”

Mithreye was silent.

“Think on it, my daughter.”

[Beleglotiel]

cool! Gondor.........nice.................can't wait! :thumbs:

[Tar-Ancalimë]

Mithreye and her mother ate their dinner in silence. Mithreye was thinking of leaving the village—not yet actually considering the possibility, but thinking about how she could ever fare anywhere else. Perhaps it was best to leave Harad, but Mithreye was quite convinced she could never manage it.

Her mother spoke only to ask Mithreye to pass something or get her something. Mithreye was apprehensive lest her mother should again bring up the subject of Harondor—but she never did. Exactly what she was thinking, Mithreye couldn’t tell.

They finished dinner, but just as Mithreye was rising to clear the table, a knock sounded on the door. Mithreye glanced at her mother swiftly, who said, “I’ll clean up, Mith’. If it’s who I think it is….”

She let her sentence trail off, and Mithreye sighed heavily. If it was who she thought it was, Mithreye did not want to answer the knock. But it persisted, and so did her mother’s glances.

She rose and opened the door. And, naturally, it was the one expected but not welcomed. Guern, a young man of the village, was among the few men who were not drafted. He had been a close friend of hers from childhood, but lately it had grown to something more than that—for him. Mithreye’s father and Guern’s mother had been close to one another as well, and that lead to cherished hopes that Mithreye and Guern might one day be united by something closer than friendship. Guern’s heart had lately turned that way, but not so Mithreye’s. Mithreye had grown weary of his attentions lately, and had almost even been disappointed that he was not drafted.

When she opened the door, his face lit up. Mithreye could not doubt that he loved her, but she also could not return the affections.

“Hello, Guern.”

“Good evening, Mith’. Would—would you like to take a walk with me?”

In the background Mithreye could sense rather than hear or see her mother’s forceful encouragement. Even if her father was the main champion for Guern’s cause, her mother heartily endorsed everything her husband did, in life and now also in death.

Resigned to what promised to be a tedious evening, Mithreye nodded and grabbed her hat.

[Mirkgirl]

aw there's another intrigue... :cool:... looking forward to the next chapter

P.S. I agree with the ones after me... sadly there's no one to agree with now

[Bess the Bard]

Cool, more complications. Mith has very realistic doubts, fears and feelings. I like her. Looking forward to more.

[Beleglotiel]

Nice, Tar! keep it up! Very good so far! :thumbs:

[Elven Daughter]

Ur story is sooooo definitely better than mine, no matter what Gatsby says!!!!! I luv it!

[Pil]

Thank you for updating Tar! :cuddles:

I'm getting more and more connected with the raw emotions of this character. Keep it up Tar, i really like this story. :thumbs:

:)

[Tar-Ancalimë]

Silently he led her past the buildings, into the plains to the south of town. Mithreye didn’t fear anything from him, but she couldn’t help warily wondering why they were walking so far. Usually they would go to the local inn to talk or spend time together.

Once they were away from the village, he turned to her with a face so earnest, she anticipated his next words perfectly.

“Mith’, things are going from bad to worse in this town. Gondor is coming, our fields are being deserted, and people are even leaving the village.” Mithreye waited patiently for what she knew was coming.

“Mith’, I wouldn’t have you leave, but times are desperate. That, I think, is the only course to follow now.” She was still silent, measuring her reply.

“Won’t you come with me? We will travel to Far Harad and make a life there. I know you do not return my love, but our fathers would have had it so… were they here… and, perhaps, with time….”

“Time?” asked Mithreye, a reaction to his last word coming simply and quickly to her mind. “With time, all Harad will be conquered.” Her mother’s words fell easily on her own lips. “What resistance can we find against them? Gondor is a country with a grudge, and the means to vindicate that grudge. Far Harad will not be safe much longer than Near Harad.”

His eyes acquired a look that was almost haunted, fearful. Mithreye drew back a little, surprised at such a reaction.

[Bess the Bard]

Hmmm...wonder what is up with her would-be suitor? I can't help compare the waiting and relative powerlessness of Mith's people with the ordinary people of Iraq. A far more powerful force is coming to change their lives, it's only a matter of time. How will they react? Very interesting, as always, Tar.

[Pil]

His eyes acquired a look that was almost haunted, fearful. Mithreye drew back a little, surprised at such a reaction.

That was great Tar....this is really well written, the thoughts and feelings of Mithreye being portrayed so effectively inkeeping with her character. :thumbs: :p

I can't wait for the next part....tell us what she decides! :)

[Mirkgirl]

*agrees with Pil* lol no really this time

I like the way she reacts to then repeats her mother's words... you're great honster

and once again... can't wait for the next bit :thumbs:

[Pil]

*pil goes frantic waiting*

lol When can we be expecting the next update Tar? Just wondering....since i love ur writing and all! :p

Looking forward to it! :hooray:

[Mirkgirl]

lol I have to agree with Pil once again.... maybe I'll manage to stay awake and bug you tonight honster :naughty:

[Tar-Ancalimë]

aw im sorry guys... i have only written a few more paragraphs... been feeling lousy....thanks for your impatience tho :grin:

[Little Devil]

I'll wait, I'm sure it'll be worth it! :thumbs: ;)

[Bess the Bard]

Tar's always worth the wait! Looking forward to the next bit. Hope you feel better soon. :wave:

[Tar-Ancalimë]

ok ok.... you guys bugged me enough lol... heres the next bit

[Tar-Ancalimë]

Mithreye gazed at him with concern. She might not love him, but a friend he was. “What’s wrong, Guern?”

He avoided her gaze. “I ought to have gone and fought with them. I ought to have been there. I’d rather have died in the war then be faced with enslavement here.”

Mithreye tried not to laugh. He sounded a little silly, this simple young man averring that he wanted to die. “Oh, Guern… calm down, you weren’t drafted.”

He stared at the ground. “I could have—I should have—gone voluntarily.”

Mithreye suppressed her humor, completely inappropriate for this scene. “Guern… it’s all right, no one would think the less of you… and would you really wish your mother without a son as well as husband?”

He looked at her. “You’re right, Mith’. But it’s difficult to cope with. I know my father won’t ever be coming back. But maybe I could have helped him.”

She allowed herself a quick smile before comforting him again. “I know. Neither will mine.” That phrase effectively sobered her thoughts. Neither would hers…. “But chase those thoughts out of your mind, Guern… likely you wouldn’t have even fought together.”

He smiled at her. “Mith’, you are a wonderful woman.”

She smiled weakly in return. She’d rather be a wonderful friend than a wonderful woman.

“Will you come with me, love? I shall leave soon. It is the only course possible to take.”

She looked at him gravely. “You spoke truly, I do not love you. I cannot foresee myself spending my life with you, here or anywhere. You are a wonderful friend—”

He put his finger on her lips. “I will hear no more of that, Mith’. It is not friendship I want of you. Do not give me an answer now if you do not so wish. I shall leave in a few days. We have not much time.”

And with those words, he kissed her softly and turned to make his way back into the town. She gazed after him, resigned to her situation with him. If a kiss was the price to pay for him leaving the village forever, so be it. Looking after his retreating figure, she felt only pity for him. Unthinkable to ever go with him, to Far Harad or anywhere else.

Perhaps she was uncertain of her feelings about leaving for Gondor—but whatever Guern might say, she would not be convinced to travel with him, much less commit to anything higher.

[Beleglotiel]

Wow! this is wonderful Tar! :thumbs: keep it coming!

[Pil]

I really liked that Tar, the sentence at the end really kept it at a grounded and emotionally realistic level. :thumbs:

Thanks for posting and keep this up it's great! :)

[Tar-Ancalimë]

She made her way back towards the village, taking her time. It was true, what Guern had said—so many people were leaving the village already, convinced they would find a better life elsewhere. Mithreye stopped walking, absorbed in the thought. After all, perhaps it was better to leave. There was nothing here but enslavement, maybe even death.

Pondering on it all evening lead her to the conclusion that, however badly she might fare outside this village, it was hardly an option anymore to stay. Everywhere she turned, she was being told to go—to her mother, to Guern, even to such things as the distant mountains of Mordor. The mountains had never looked colder—life was within them no more. The life that had been protecting Mithreye’s lands was no more.

Yes, it was time to leave. Mithreye reached her home and entered it, convinced she had made her decision.

Her mother was sitting in front of the fire when she entered, gazing motionless into the flames. At the sound of the door, however, she glanced quickly up at Mithreye.

Mithreye looked at the floor—her mother surly knew a proposal from Guern had been imminent. Although Mithreye didn’t think her mother would be truly angry with her refusal, she didn’t relish receiving her displeasure.

“Well?” her mother asked.

[Bess the Bard]

Great to see two more installments so quick! Thank you. I am liking Mith better and better. Can't wait to see what happens next.

[Beleglotiel]

I am curious to see what happens......will she meet the fellwoship or the good guys? and perhaps drift to the side of good? :huh: oh wait in her mind she is good! this is difficult!

[Mirkgirl]

I disagree with belster (we needed something new didn't we), however, for the traditions sake, I agree with Bess

I love the way you express her doubt, honster... and the mountain metaphor... (I deeply hope that was what they called a metaphor, but if its not, it's still good :p)

Take your time honster, but dont make us wait too long :)

[Little Devil]

Keep it up! ;)

[Pil]

Cool Tar! So...her decision is made....she will leave the village....but with who? :huh: :p

Post soon hon....keep this up...i'm loving reading it.... :)

[Tar-Ancalimë]

Again thanks for your comments... i really love them :)

(yes even mirkys :rolleyes: lol)


_________________________________________________

Mithreye shook her head. “He wants me to marry him, and go to Far Harad.”

“That is what many are thinking. To flee further into Harad. But will you go?”

Mithreye shook her head again. “I will not go to Far Harad. Nor do I wish to go anywhere with Guern.”

Her mother sighed and stood up. “I had anticipated such an answer. Have you given more thought to my plan?”

Mithreye nodded slowly. “I have, Mother.”

Her mother walked into the next room, carrying her book. Mithreye followed, slightly reluctant to admit her mother had been right. “And?” her mother asked.

“And, I will travel to Gondor.”

Her mother turned and smiled. “That makes my heart, glad, Mith’. I shall be relieved to have you safe.”

Mithreye frowned. “But, Mother, I do not know the way. I would not know what to do there, or—”

Her mother cut her off. “I have thought about this, Mith’. You must trust me.”

Mithreye looked up at her mother. She was standing next to the table, arranging the flowers and books sitting on it. Signs of old age were showing in her face and her movements, old age that perhaps came to her early with her husband’s death and country’s defeat. However, even to Mithreye’s eye, she had not lost all her youth’s beauty. A flush still came to her cheeks, and her movements had lost none of their grace. Mithreye was looking at the person she probably trusted most in this world.

“Yes, Mother,” was all she replied.

She straightened up, finished cutting the dead stems off the flowers. “I have spoken to several others in the village who have not yet left. They have listened to me and are willing to go to Gondor as well.”

Mithreye just looked at her. “Who?” she asked bluntly.

“Altar. Nohame. Her children, Bern and Marle. Onara, and...” she hesitated.

Mithreye raised her eyebrows. Altar was a small, young-looking man of thirty-three, the eldest son of the village smith. He seemed nice enough, but Mithreye didn’t know him well. Nohame was Mithreye’s aunt: her mother’s sister. Nohame was about ten years younger than her sister, but they were very close to each other. Nohame had been widowed before the war; her husband had died of a consumptive sickness. She had been left with two young boys, Bern and Marle. Mithreye was very fond of Bern, but she thought Marle a spoiled brat. Onara was the daughter of the man who had been the leader of the village before he left in the war. She was only a few years older than Mithreye herself, and a very hard woman who knew how to wield a sword.

“And?” Mithreye asked.

[Pil]

:) Ooo...new characters....they sound exciting....especially Onara.... :thumbs:

Keep it up Tar....lets hope Mith gets along with her companions... :p

[Elven Daughter]

Awesome!!! I luv it so much, hehe

[Bess the Bard]

I'm glad she's not going alone. Looking forward to learning about the new characters. Great, as always.

[Beleglotiel]

Hmmm...........And?.......................let's find out!!!

[Mirkgirl]

ugh why do I bother to read this :rolleyes:

Well you do know how to make the readers wait for the next part, I should admit :p
Where are you? You weren't even idle when I came :(
Looking forward to read about Marle ;)

[Beleglotiel]

Hmmm.........now that you mention it.........that should prove to be interesting.............hmmm.............

[Tar-Ancalimë]

Thanks again. Yep, we'll hear more about all these chars. Sort of my own cheesy fellowship... only it wont last as long. oh look at me im giving stuff away now.

irky, you bother cause i make you and you know it :p

And.....

[Tar-Ancalimë]

“And Guern. I know he will come when he hears you are going.”

Mithreye opened her mouth to protest, but her mother interrupted her. “Mith’, you don’t have to spend your life with him. But he will be an asset to your travels. He is a strong man who can protect you on the road.”

Mithreye swallowed. She didn’t relish the prospect of traveling with Guern. She would simply have to learn to be more forceful in rejecting his advances. She nodded, reluctantly. She could not stop him from coming.

Then something else occurred to her. “Mother! Aren’t you coming?”

Her mother shook her head sadly. “No, Mith’, I am too wearied and weak. I shall stay here and accept my lot as best I may.”

She turned and smiled at Mithreye. “It is becoming late, my daughter. It is time we were in bed.”

Mithreye went to bed that night with a heavy heart. Even having made up her mind to leave, her mind was still filled with uncertainty. She had no idea what would happen when she arrived in Gondor, or how she was to fare among the land of her enemies. Her heart ached already with longing for her home—and she hadn’t even left it yet. Leaving the only place she’d even known, the only mother she’d ever had... she knew she was going to miss her village greatly. And besides all that, she could wish for better traveling companions. A man she didn’t know, a spoiled little child, and an all too attentive friend? Mithreye rolled over in her bed once more, uneasy and apprehensive about the coming weeks.

[Beleglotiel]

Hmmm.........this should be interesting............:thumbs: nice writing Tar! :grin:

[Little Devil]

very good, :thumbs: ;)

[Elven Daughter]

Luv it! Mirkgirl, why don't you just accept that this is great and you luv it?

[Pil]

This is so cool Tar! I'm so excited! Post soon! :)

[Bess the Bard]

There's going to be an interesting group dynamic on this adventure. :wink:

I love the way you are setting up for her leaving. Very poignant, but making it inevitable and believable that she will leave.

[Mirkgirl]

Everything's great... but where's the next part? (and where are you, but that's beyond the point)

We want more :brave: lol

[Beleglotiel]

Yeah.............come on! It is soo mean to keep us waiting!! :(

[Tar-Ancalimë]

aww I'm sorry, I've been insanely busy, plus look at this There have been 1040 new posts and 187 updated threads since your last visit! :elfeek:

yeah so... anytime my life feels like settling down... you will get more story... and more me (but thats beside the point :grin: )

[Beleglotiel]

Life been keep'n ya busy, eh?

[Little Devil]

I'll wait,I know whats it like, can't wait for more. ;)

[Pil]

Indeed...but i can sympathise with u tar...as u know! lol :cuddles:

Take as much time as u need hon. :p

[Telyhandoiel]

Well done, can't wait till your next chap.

Tely

[Tar-Ancalimë]

aww thanks :)

I've actually started on it. I have all of.... let's see, two paragraphs. lol

Thanks so much for reading it... I'm glad to see you on chat a lot, and I hope to see you there again soon.

Everyone else... I'm sorry.... I'll try to write more... but likely over the next month I'll be really busy... theres a huge case coming up and... ah you get the picture. lol

[Beleglotiel]

Sok., take your time! no rushing! (even tho we'd like to read more ;) )

[Tar-Ancalimë]

The next day, Mithreye was approached by Onara as she was washing clothes in the village pond.

“Mith’?” Onara approached her quietly.

Mithreye, turned around, a bit startled. She had been thinking about Guern again. Her face relaxed into a smile when she saw Onara. Onara was both admired and hated in the village, for her unwomanly ways and unfriendly manner. Mithreye was one of her admirers; Mithreye had always wanted to get to know the girl better, and was pleased that Onara would be coming with her to Harondor. Perhaps it would be a chance to become friends with this girl.

“Yes?”

“I have decided I will come with you. To Gondor.”

Mithreye smiled. “I’m glad, Onara. I should not like to travel alone.”

The other girl returned the smile, if not wholeheartedly. “Yes. Altar has said he will go with us. I think we need not fear trouble on the road if we stay out of the paths of armies.”

Mithreye was alarmed at the thought. She had considered the difficulties of life in Gondor, but had never thought about the journey there. Onara sensed her thoughts, and said, “Mith’, I said I do not think we shall meet with trouble. Like you, I doubt the trouble won’t come once we reach Gondor. Once we reach the land of our enemies.”

Mithreye nodded. “It is strange, is it not? For ages we have hated and feared them. And now—” Mithreye gave a little laugh, “We will ask them for protection against themselves.”

Onara smiled faintly. “Yet I agree the idea has sense. Your mother has thought on it much.”

Mithreye nodded, troubled. “My mother has told me she would stay here. But do you not think it would be better for her to come with us?” She asked, pleading Onara for her help. Mithreye did not want to think about her mother’s fate at the hands of the Gondorian armies.

Onara shook her head. “Your mother would not survive the journey,” she said gently. “If she knows to stay here, I believe stay here she ought.”

[Mirkgirl]

at last honster... but it was worth waiting I have to say :grin:

[Pil]

:) That was great Tar! Poor Mith's Mother.....:(

As mirky said, definitely worth a wait, and we await the next part anxiously....i wonder that experiences and troubles lie in the dangerous path of our characters? :o

:read::thumbs::read:

[Bess the Bard]

Very good and worth the wait. I have a soft spot for Mith's mother, I hope a dire fate does not await her. Excellent job.

[Little Devil]

:thumbs: very good. ;)

[Tar-Ancalimë]

thank you thank you everyone... comments muchly appreciated once again :grin:

and yes... life has slowed down a bit... even if i shouldnt have been writing my story tonight... i have a few more paragraphs :grin:

[Tar-Ancalimë]

Mithreye lowered her gaze into the pond. In the almost motionless pond was reflected the clear sky, lending its brilliant blue to the deep waters. The sun was shining merrily on the land, and spring was showing its aura everywhere. Movement in the pond’s depths attested to new life, even there.

The perfect day, however, only increased Mithreye’s sense of irony. That such a spring should accompany such a defeat—did not nature care at all for the small mortals walking in and among her? Mithreye reflected bitterly that the Gondorians must be taking the beautiful season as a sign of divine approval of their victory.

Onara interrupted her thoughts again. “We must leave, soon, Mith’. I know you are not eager to leave your home, but we must move before the roads are impassable with soldiers.”

Mithreye nodded. “I know... I know.” It was very true. She did not want to leave the village. She did not want to greet that which may lie outside Far Harad. She did not want to face another, completely different life.

Onara continued. “Many villagers have plans to leave, but less than half of them have actually left. Enough talking. I will prepare Nohame and her children for the journey. I have spoken with Altar and Guern, and they are ready. If you will prepare yourself, we will leave tomorrow morning.”

Tomorrow morning! Mithreye knew that they had to leave; she had realized this some time ago. But all those thoughts soon disappeared in the face of really leaving. She turned to Onara, uncertain, unfaithful words on her lips.

It was the look on Onara’s face that gave Mithreye her resolve back. Onara looked as though she knew Mithreye’s thoughts, once again, and was terribly disappointed in her. The almost upset look on the girl’s face gave Mithreye the strength she needed to agree.

“I will be ready by dawn.”

[Beleglotiel]

:thumbs: nice job, Tar! as always!! :grin:

[Tar-Ancalimë]

And ready she would be. Mithreye finished her washing as Onara left her to find Nohame. She convinced herself not to feel frightened of the coming days. She knew very well that she would miss her village terribly, and that life for her may never again be so easy, but if that was what it took to avoid slavery and death, she would do it.

As well for her that she did not then know what lay ahead.

Mithreye gathered the clothes and linen and started back home. She there discovered to her consternation and exasperation that Guern had been waiting for her to arrive. As she shut the door behind her, he jumped up.

“Mith’! I must speak with you.”

She sighed. Evidently she was not going to escape his attentions, at least for several weeks. She went outside to set the wash down, and spoke to him civilly.

“Yes?”

“Mith’, Onara has decided we will leave tomorrow. Are you—”

But Guern was cut off by Mithreye’s mother, coming in from the house.

“Tomorrow, Guern? That is welcome news. The coming armies grow ever closer.”

He nodded.

Her mother turned to Mithreye. “I will help you prepare for the journey when you are ready.”

Mithreye nodded, without looking at her mother. She was already on the verge of tears merely thinking about their parting.

Guern smiled, rather awkwardly. “Well, then, Mith’, I—can I do anything to help you prepare?”

She shook her head. “I am certain my mother will have competently provided for me.” Mithreye had always relied on her mother to provide for her... what would she do without her?

Guern nodded, again feeling somewhat out of place.

Mithreye continued after several moments. “Are you prepared? You are coming with me, are you not?”

Guern nodded. “Aye, Mith’. I’ll take care of you.”

She bent up from hanging the wash from the fence, and stood facing him. “Guern, where we are going, I do not think there can be a future for us. I know not how we shall survive in the land of our enemies.”

He started to say something, and she quickly spoke on. “And even if we could, I would not have it so. I do not love you, Guern.”

The pained look on his face quickly made her feel guilty over her words. She bit her lip and considered softening them. Then he spoke.

“I know, Mith’. But my hopes lie with time. And I shall always be there for you.”

She smiled, a little sadly. She cast her eyes to the ground as she replied. “I do not doubt there will come a time when I shall feel gratitude towards you. But never love.”

At those words, Guern nodded and turned to leave, as Mithreye bent back to her wash with tears gathering in her eyes.

[Beleglotiel]

awwwwwww, you hate to see a fella shot down like that :(

:thumbs: Good job Tar!

[Herenyë]

AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!! so nice!!!! your story is cool! keep it up!!! and cant wait for the next part......so is Mithreye a bad girl or the good girl? or is she neutral? im confused on that.....really confused......heehee veryhappy

[Mirkgirl]

Honster..... I want you right now.... but if not that... post some story for me to read when I came back from school...

[Pil]

Yeah! :thumbs: This rocks Tar! :) Post more for us soon! :p

[Bess the Bard]

Nice scene with Guern. Both the dialogue and emotions are realistic and credible. Dumping Guern leaves the way clear for a worthier candidate for our girl....but what I like about you, Tar is that you don't go for the conventional. Can't wait to see what happens next.

[Tar-Ancalimë]

ty ty... hez, im glad you did read it, lots of people say they will and then dont, lol, congrats to you

yeah i know, irky... i loves ya too... well heres a bit more, hope you all like it

[Tar-Ancalimë]

When the wash was done, the evening was turning late and the last of the sun’s rays were fading into the west. Mithreye straightened up from hanging the wash and gazed into the west. She had heard that the sea lay to the west, and over the sea was a land forbidden to men. These tales had come to her from travelers and wanderers, stopping by chance in her small village. Mithreye had not known what a sea could be, nor what could inhabit a land forbidden to men. Then a young child, she had been restrained from questioning the travelers, but later she had asked her father. Her father had not traveled much further than Mithreye herself, but Mithreye thought his knowledge to be unimaginably vast, compared to her own. She still remembered the very words he had used, and they echoed through her mind as she gazed west.

The sea is like a large pond that surrounds the land, just as the land surrounds our village. Water unending, farther than the eye can see.

She had asked how anyone knew there was land in the sea to the west.

There are men who tell of great races of elves, and of elven legends of a distant land in the sea to the west, home of the gods. Great mariners have explored far reaches of the sea, dreaming to find this land of perpetual existence and unending joy. But nothing has been found.

She had asked her father if elves existed. In full naiveté, she even thought to ask him if the gods existed, in firm faith of his absolute knowledge of truth.

In my life I have experienced nothing to confirm such tales. Yet many men do have faith in these, and often the basis of faith is necessarily nothing solid or confirmable. Perhaps elves once did exist, and they and their gods have simply forsaken this land.

That had been the end of the conversation, for the villagers ordinarily tried to avoid such talk if possible. Tales of distant lands and untamed forces of both good and evil disrupted the simple minds and hearts of the villagers, and such talk was therefore deliberately scarce.

Mithreye’s mind and heart had been disrupted, at least in part. She had begged her father to take her to the sea, but he had told her not to talk of the sea any more. Thereafter she had had dreams of endless water where fiery beings of joy danced in a village much like her own.

The longing to see the sea never truly left her, although many years of unchanging life in the village had quieted the longing.

Now, gazing into the setting sun, that longing was reawoken. With the prospect of travel at last set before her, Mithreye began to lose some of the dread of leaving. Perhaps her travels would one day even take her to the sea itself.

[Beleglotiel]

Nice job Tar! :thumbs:
Like it lots!!

[Mirkgirl]

how can one not love the sea :loveyou:
sorry got sidetracked for a moment
back on topic now: I agree with Belster heeehee

P.S. You better love me honster ;) :p

[Little Devil]

Very good, :thumbs: ;)

[Ranger]

This is a wicked cool story, Tar. Very descriptive :grin:

[Bess the Bard]

Interesting that tales of the Valar and the sea came even into lands ruled by Sauron. Aragorn traveled in those lands, maybe he spread the word.

Mith longs for the sea. How far will she travel, I wonder? Can't wait for more Tar.

[Tar-Ancalimë]

love you? when all youre doing is agreeing? and calling me a fish on chat (www.warofthering.net/chat.shtml)? hmph

thanks guys! youre comments are, as always, appreciated :)

[Tar-Ancalimë]

She took the basket inside as the very last rays dimmed and left the sky lightless. Her mother was starting a fire from the embers of the morning, patiently working with the cooling coals. As Mithreye entered, she turned to smile at her. Mithreye returned the smile and put the basket in the back room. She came back into the front room to ask her mother if she had begun to prepare dinner.

“No, Mithreye, but a fire has been lit. The new greens are on the table.”

She nodded, and went into the kitchen to prepare the small meal. They still had bread left from the last baking day, and several potatoes left from the winter. Mithreye drew water from the barrel and began to prepare the potatoes.

As she was finishing the cooking, her mother entered the kitchen and sat at the table, lighting a candle with a splint lit by the kitchen fire. Mithreye served the meal and sat down across from her mother. The meal was eaten in silence. Mithreye’s thoughts were of Onara’s words earlier that day, concerning her mother. Mithreye had then resolved to let her mother make her decision in peace, but now Mithreye knew not how she could leave her mother behind.

“Mother? Will you not reconsider your decision to stay here? ‘Twas your idea to leave.”

Her mother left that statement some moments in silence. Then she replied softly, “It was my idea for you to leave, my daughter. I am not strong enough to take that way. My soul will find peace in your survival and endurance, and that is all I require.”

Mithreye fixed her gaze on her food, trying not to think of how invading armies treated defenseless enemy villages—and the women in them.

“Yes, mother.”

After the rest of the meal, which was eaten in complete silence, Mithreye’s mother stood up to clear the meal.

“After I clean, Mith’, we will discuss your journey.”

Mithreye nodded silently, and went to the other room, where a low fire was burning. She took up her work, a coat she was almost finished with sewing. Soon after, her mother came into the room.

[Elven Daughter]

Simply fantastic, as always. I love the touch about the elves and the land beyond the sea.

[Bess the Bard]

I like your accurate details of their daily life. A specific baking day, last winter's potatoes. And the poignancy of leaving her mother behind to an uncertain fate. Very sad. Always looking forward to more, Tar.

[Pil]

:( I love how Mith's mother is being so strong and making sure her daughter does not stay behind with her. Their parting will be so sad... mecry

I look forward to your next post Tar. Great updates as always! :)

[Beleglotiel]

Great work, Tar :thumbs: post more! :grin:

[Herenyë]

All i can say is that i want more!!!! ;) nicely done Tar!!!!!!!!!

[Mirkgirl]

Aw I agree with 'em all.... esp on the "we want more" part

I love the mother's charecter... are you trying to hint something... or thats just me?

[Tar-Ancalimë]

ah i love you guys :grin:

ED1... I'm glad you're reading it ,it's rather fun to have a story that people like lol

bess... that was a specific aim of this chapter, to get more details of the village culture in the fic. I'm really glad you noticed and commented on it, as i was striving to attain that veryhappy

Pil... I only just noticed this, but you're as bad as irky. You need to change your title as well lol. Moderator indeed :rolleyes: LOL lol... and, ofc, thanks for your comments ;) :)

bele, hez... awww I'm glad you guys like it, seeing as how it has nothing to do with Legolas. I suggested to irky that mith' should go to gondor, meet legolas, and fall in love with him... she didnt like it much lol, i wonder why :angel:

irky.... read the logs for #irene

i like mith's mother as well... i think i know what is going to happen to her, and, dont worry, leaving the village wont be the last we hear of her :)

[Tar-Ancalimë]

“I know you are not proficient in the use of any weapon, Mith’, but I will give you this dagger in the hopes that Guern, Altar, or Onara will aid you in its handle.”

Mithreye looked up from her sewing, to see her mother holding out a dagger in a plain sheath. She looked questioningly at her mother, who said, “Take it, and I hope you may never have cause to use it on another.”

She took it, and drew it from its sheath. From within the plain sheath came a truly beautiful dagger. The pommel was smooth and round, the perfect fit for her hand. The blade was sharp, and in the dim firelight it glinted and showed writings, written in a curling, elegant hand.

“It’s beautiful!” she gasped.

Her mother nodded. “’Twas once mine.”

Mithreye stared at her mother. “You should not give me this!”

Her mother ignored her, and handed her a pack. “This you may carry on your back. In the morning I shall give you the food I have prepared, food that will last you well on your journey. I hope it need take no more than two weeks, but if it does, you will have other members of your party you can rely on.”

Mithreye took it wordlessly. Despite everything, she still did not want to leave.

“The coat you are now sewing will serve you well. You will not be able to bring along many clothes. There are other, more important items. Water is not plentiful here, as you know. Once you reach the borders of Harondor, it will become more plentiful, yet you must carry it with you while you are able. You shan’t be without cooking utensils, for Nohame is proficient in that area, but there are items it is best to have spares for. With your cloak and roll, that is enough to fill your pack.

“When you arrive, I think you will not be so out of place. Now that the war is over, many are returning to Gondor. There will be much demand for labor as the new spring comes and the population swells. With royalty once again in Minas Tirith, there will be an overflow of people seeking more help. Onara believes it will be easiest to start in the fields of Harondor. I agree with her.”

She looked tenderly at her daughter. “I hope it may not pass hardly on you, Mith’.”

Mithreye heard the flow of words without understanding them. She merely looked unresponsively at her mother.

“I will pack your things. Finish your coat and go to bed.”

Her mother turned and left the room, returning to the kitchen. Mithreye held her head in her hands and wept without tears.

[Beleglotiel]

Awww, Nice job Tar! :grin: :thumbs: OoOo shiny dagger! lol ;)

[Herenyë]

Nice!............so what happens next?..........so? hello! i want MORE! MORE!!!!!! i deman MORE! whoops got to much into the story! lol heehee nicely done and ummm *"hurry"* lol heehee :thumbs:

[Tar-Ancalimë]

ok, i've got the next ch done.... anyway i havent edited it, being insanely busy and all.... thanks all once again for your lovely comments... let me tell you, they really make my day lol :grin:



oh yeah and... if anyone cares... this is the beginning of ch

Seven
Mithreye lay awake far into the night, fretting and worrying over what would occur the next day. Her former thoughts of the Gondorian armies and of her father’s death, of Guern’s words to her that first day, of her mother’s urgings, and of Onara’s encouragements, seemed to all have left her in this hour. She could think only of the wild stories and tales of the people of Gondor— a people who lived in the past, who told wild tales of great wars and seemed to fashion the present from these legends and myths— a people who had been diminished by strife of which they themselves had often been the cause. And of her mother, her mother’s proposals that she live among these.

When she finally slept, it was only to fall into a troubled and very light sleep. She ran along a corridor in a palace, ran from a demon twice her size, bent on consuming her in the fire of his lair. Strange chants sounded as she looked back, his large, slow steps eating the distance. But as she ran, she found that the palace was changing shapes and directions, and running faster only sped up the alteration of the hallways—then she knew the palace was once her protector, the demon once her friend. With no avenue of escape left, she woke, sweating.

Her room was dark, and the light that usually came from the inn across the way was out. She put on a shawl, and walked out of the house to the inn. Why should it be dark, when it surely should have had comers late into the night, playing at their tavern games? When she reached the inn, she found that it was no inn at all, but a small smithy. She entered it, hardly conscious of doing so. Expecting to see the smith, instead she found inside it several men, speaking in low voices. When they saw her, they turned to her, and she saw that they had no faces. The folds of their robes rustled as they drew nearer to her, and all warmth from her body drained.

She woke again. Shaking, she cursed her mind for so playing tricks on her. Kicking the side of the wall hard to make sure she really was awake this time, she drew back the curtain and saw the familiar light of the inn. She shivered, and wondered where she could have possibly gotten the images of the faceless figures.

Too fearful to return to sleep, she sat down against the wall and pulled a blanket close about her. How long she sat there, unmoving, she did not know. Between the world of slumber and that of consciousness, voices echoed in Mithreye’s head. Timeless voices, speaking words she did not understand. Cold voices, but not menacing; uncaring, but not cruel; distant, but not unreachable. Partially lulled by the sounds, she at last fell into a long-awaited deep sleep.

[Herenyë]

wow.........nice chapter!.......got so into it.....:elfeek: love this chapter! nice work! and you HAVE to get done with the other one soon! :p lol heehee.....keep it up !!!!

[Mirkgirl]

Wow great idea with the dreams... you're great honster

btw..... Im so sorry I missed wishing you happy birthday in person :( I still luv ya tho :cuddles:

[Bess the Bard]

Tar, great imagery in the dream. There's some wonderful foreshadowing. The dream vividly evokes her fears and doubts about leaving to go to an unknown place. Good job.

BTW, happy birthday. I hope it was great.

[Beleglotiel]

Oh! Nice job Tar! Freaky! Can't wait for more! :thumbs:

[Tar-Ancalimë]

thanks guys! the dreams were one of my fav parts too... well ive written all of ch 7 but i guess i havent put it all up here yet lol... so youll get two or three more posts before i fall behind again lol



____________
In the morning she woke suddenly, her mother shaking her awake.

“Mithreye,” she said. “The sun has risen.”

Mithreye sat up, her stomach clenching with nerves. She looked around and wondered how she had gotten back on the bed during the night. Last she remembered, she had been leaning against the wall, sleepless. “Yes, mother,” was all she said. “I will be ready in a few minutes.”

Her mother nodded, and left the room. Mithreye stood up, and dressed warmly in a layered dress. She stared out the window at the end, shivering as she remembered her dream. Of the first dream had she no memory, but the second was all she could think about for some time.

The local inn usually didn’t hold many travelers; rather its patrons consisted of town men that went to drink in the tavern there. It was run by a relatively rich couple from Deep Harad, newly married and brought to this small village by chance. The husband’s mother had grown up in a neighboring village, and had been intimate with the former owner of the inn, though they never married each other. This man had left his first sweetheart his property, the rest of his family being dead, and the woman had left it to her son and his wife. They at first thought to sell the inn, but were charmed by the town and decided to stay. The husband had gone off to the war, and his wife had, in his absence, grown close to Mithreye’s mother. Mithreye was very fond of the woman, but now she doubted she would ever be able to go inside that inn again, even had she the opportunity. A smithy, indeed!

She banished temporarily the thoughts of her dream and finished dressing. She went out to the kitchen, where her mother was preparing breakfast. Her mother turned and smiled as Mithreye came into the room, kissing her forehead. “Good morning, Mith’. Did you finish that coat last night?”

Mithreye nodded. “Yes, mother, it’s done.”

“Good, then,” she said, smiling again. “All is ready. Eat quickly. Altar will meet you here, then you can go to the square together and wait for the others.”

[Beleglotiel]

Nice job Tar! :thumbs: can't wait for the long journey!

[Tar-Ancalimë]

Mithreye sat down to eat with her mother. The meal was proving to be another completely silent one, until Mitreye suddenly put down her spoon, and looked up at her mother.

“Mother, I’m afraid.”

Mithreye’s mother didn’t say anything, standing up and putting her arms around her daughter. They embraced for several minutes, until Mithreye felt strong again. She pulled back, smiled at her mother, and left to gather her pack. She returned into the kitchen for the last of her meal, finishing it quickly. Her mother had gone into the other room, and now came back with a walking staff. She handed it to her daughter, who took it and shouldered her pack.

Her mother kissed Mithreye’s forehead, and whispered, “Valar tirir le, ar nai lá huinë tara tielya ter lendelya, yendenya.”

Mithreye did not have too much time to think about what she had just said, for a knock on the door heralded Altar’s arrival. Mithreye opened the door, and greeted Altar with a tight smile. She turned back to look at her mother, who smiled at Mithreye and said, “Farewell.”

Mithreye turned away, determined not to cry. She walked alongside Altar quietly, eyes downcast and soul depressed. She nearly walked into a fence before Altar grabbed her and set her course straight.

“That’s no state to go traveling in, Mith’,” he said, laughing. “Come, compose yourself. Your mother can take care of herself.”

Mithreye frowned and said nothing but a simple thanks for his timely aid.

[Beleglotiel]

Awww :( How emotional mecry I wouldn't wanna leave my mommy either :(

[Mirkgirl]

aw you can just see her preparing to leave all she knew and loved... good work honster, looking forward more

[Tar-Ancalimë]

all right... have kind of let this fic slide I see... but I haven't stopped writing it. So if any of you are interested in reading what all I've wrote-- it's a few chapters more than this-- go to fanfiction.net... if you want to continue where I left off posting, the link to the beginning of the next chapter is here (http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1180775&chapter=8). And if you do go, I'd appreciate some feedback in the form of a review there... they always make my day better.

Thanks to everyone who's been reading this... and sorry for not continuing... I just haven't been around much :(