Fellowship Of Forodwaith (Karameida & darkangel76)

[darkangel76]

The northern waste of Forodwaith was cursed, frozen by the Witch King of Angmar—better known by all as Lord of the Nazgul and right hand to Sauron.

In an attempt to induce fear, the Lord of the Nazgul had set an eternal winter upon Forodwaith, his plan to sway them all to the call of his master, the former bearer of the One Ring—Sauron. Many had fled—including King Arvedui—leaving Forodwaith barren and leaderless, in a state of chaos and conflict! Dark magic swirled about the north, a poisonous magic slowly seeping into everything, taking root, causing panic and hysteria.

The Witch King, satisfied, looked down from his perch in Angmar with pleasure knowing that he and his master had nothing to fear from the northern wastelands any longer. And so, Sauron continued his search for what had been rightfully his and now resides in the hands of the most unlikely creatures. However, to keep the fear alive and thriving, the Lord of the Nazgul continues to send reminders to Forodwaith…messengers and heralds that remind them of the power of Angmar and what will happen—much like it did to those who'd tried to flee the call, much like King Arvedui—should they attempt to give aid to any but them, to Mordor.

The fear is strong and the wintry cold has been so bitter and long, lasting for generation after generation. The people have grown weary as Sauron searches and in their weariness, their hope for any summer has now dwindled to nothing along with their hope for any sort of happy future.

The land of Forodwaith is mostly untamed wilds, though there are pockets where those who've remained do dwell. The Cape of Forochel is the most prominent and runs around the Ice Bay. The humans native to Forochel call themselves the Lossoth—a tribal people who know how to survive the harsh wastelands of the north. They are very leery of outsiders and both cautious and superstitious due to past dealings and their history with Angmar along with ongoing winter they've endured for generations. The peace among the tribes is shaky, the balance held together by the finest of threads. Besides the Lossoth, others have indeed made homes in the region of Forochel in the Forodwaith wastelands. Other than the native Lossoth, other humans along with dwarves, halflings and even elves have found their way. Though it's uncommon to see those from the south—with the exception of dwarves—often termed as warmlanders by the Lossoth.

But now is the time for winter to end…or so come the whispering hopes of many a traveler who make their way into the northern wastes. The magic is spreading, the winter colder than ever. Things are brewing in Angmar and the peace between the Lossoth tribes is wavering, the Suri-Maja tribe growing the most restless of all. Trouble stirs in Forodwaith and it no longer affects just the north, but all of Middle-Earth...

Will winter end...can anything stop the dark magic and Angmar?

~*~

TA 3018, March, present day...

Though the horrible sounds had faded, Maranwe could still hear the shrieking screams of her mother the moment the goblins—the orcs—had appeared...

An angry mace found its target as it pierced the Maran's mother's body with a mighty crack, breaking flesh and bone as it caused her willowy body to crumple and slump into a heap on the frigid ground. Maran let out a shout the moment her Elf eyes saw the violent vision unfold, but it was immediately stifled by a large hand before a sound had a chance to roll off her full lips. Her brother, Orrin, almost roughly pulled her aside and threw her to the ground. His lips teasingly brushed against her ear as the goblins swarmed, their weapons brandished and glinting in the harsh silvery rays of light that had shone down from the moon overhead in the inky sky.

"You must run, Maran," Orrin whispered. "Run and don't look back." His words were clear and distinct. Gently, a hand stroked Maran's slender neck and brushed her snowy hair in a loving gesture. "Go on to Forochel and do what we set out to do."

Maran shifted suddenly, her gray eyes locking onto her brother's. Almost immediately, she could feel them pricking with tears. She knew what he was doing. He was saying goodbye...

As Maran continued to run along the outskirts of Kauppa-Kohta, she wished she'd had more time. More time with her parents, her brother. But the goblins had been many and she was their only hope to help their kin now. She needed to see things through, to help them all if it was possible. It was what her family had wanted and why they'd set out on their journey from Rivendell in the first place. Rivendell... How she suddenly missed it. Its warmth, its song. But now wasn't the time for grieving. That would have to wait.

Frightened, Maran pressed onward, her heart heavy as she found herself hoping she'd manage to lose the goblins that had murdered her family and had been hot on her trail since. Her body was aching and in need of rest, her trek having gone on for a couple of hours at least. Running, panting hard, she glanced upward into the dark starless sky—a bad omen to not see the stars. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment and she silently prayed she'd find safety, that somehow she'd live to see dawn.

Meanwhile, in the settlement of Pynti-Peldot, the wind was howling outside causing the windows to rattle and shake. Though such weather seemed to be common in Forochel, Brynne was hardly used to the harsh climate. A shiver ran along her spine and she reached for a heavy shawl that was draped over the chair set across the way from her modest bed. Her room was so much smaller than the one she'd had back in her home in Dale... ah, to be back home... She truly missed her parents. Her mind drifted as she pined for them, her dark eyes welling with tears as she longed for a day when she might be reunited with them once more. But such a day seemed hopeless. Dale was so far away, the journey back treacherous. And after the unexpected attack, there was great uncertainty as to whether it was safe to even attempt returning.

If only there was a way she could receive word about Dale, her family... just knowing they were safe would set her heart and mind at ease.

Brynne pushed at her dark hair and heaved a sigh, her eyes shifting over to a pair leggings that she'd been mending for one of the local hunters—one of the Lossoth of Pynti-Peldot—who frequented the Inn of the Snowy Eagle. She was nearly done patching them up, adding in a lining for extra warmth. Since arriving in the frozen wastelands of Forodwaith—after being so abruptly taken from all that was safe and familiar—she'd slowly been trying to repay those who'd been kind enough to help her and rescue her from the wildmen. She felt fortunate that the people of Pynti-Peldot were willing to let her stay, to prove herself a worthy seamstress.

Running her hand over the stitching, Brynne smiled. But it faded as she heard the windows of her room jostle against the windowpanes, almost threatening to break open as the wind continued to sweep through the village. Her hand dropped away from the fabric and she walked over to the window, biting down on her lip as she stared outside into the inky black. The sky was dark, starless, though the moon shone down in silver strands of light. Still shivering, she backed away from the window and turned to leave her room and go downstairs.

As Brynne headed down the dimly lit corridor that led to the open room where the patrons of the inn tended to meet and congregate, she could feel her heart begin to pound. Without realizing it, her tiny hands clutched at her shawl, pulling it tightly about her slim body. She could hear the voices of those already milling about, engaged in conversation, sharing a drink or three. A bit nervous as she always was, she stepped out into the midst of the crowd feeling out of place and so awkward. A hand reached up and began to fidget with a stray lock of brown, fingers twisting themselves within the strands as she made her way to where the barkeep stood. Slowly, she sat down and swallowed hard, her eyes darting about as she tried to blend in though she knew such a thing was impossible.

 

[Karameida]

Vaemyr​

Vaemyr studied the settlement as best he could but the ominously starless night sky did little to aid him in his endeavor. The moon shone bright in the sky but only fell in small patches here and there looking so much like a silvery glowing escape in the otherwise suffocating darkness. He let out a long suffering sigh, the trip had proven to be harder on him and his mount than he'd first thought. He was out of his element in this frozen landscape. The terrain was difficult and deceptive, one could not simply traverse the frozen land as you would any other. You had to move slowly and carefully and this had delayed him by quite a bit. Though it was several days later than he'd have liked he had eventually reached Pynti-Peldot. He had also made another miscalculation when it came to the people who called Forodwaith "home". He had expected some wariness or suspicion, what he had not counted on was the open hostility and anger that he found all too often in their gazes. He sighed again as he weaved his Destrier through the settlement with a deft hand and a natural ease that was a trademark of a true leader. The horse responded to his control completely, recognizing and acknowledging the strength and will of the rider.

The man exuded a dark strength that some may have feared but it was tempered with an iron clad control that one could only admire. This was not a man who acted upon his emotions. He was not a man one could manipulate, nor someone you could cross and get away unscathed. He was by no means infallible but he coupled his skill in battle, his strength with his intelligence and that got him far and made him quite deadly. He was also a very patient man.

Vaemyr kept his watchful gaze focused on the area around him and kept one hand near his blade. One could never be certain of when an attack would happen, so he lived by the simple rule "better safe than sorry". If it hadn't been for the fact that the sun had already sunk below the horizon he might have just continued to ride on northward. However, trying such a thing at night was foolish. This area was hazardous enough during the day, no telling what trouble he'd run into at night. So when the sun had begun to disappear he'd turned his horse to Pynti-Peldot in search of an inn. The wind whipped around him tugging at his shoulder length hair and the chill seeped through his armor and clothes. With a slight movement he pulled his warm cloak tighter around his large frame.

He'd come to Forodwaith weeks earlier and had more or less been wandering from settlement to settlement getting a feel for the area and it's inhabitants. He was surprised to find so many people still living in the frozen wastelands. He wasn't sure why -if they were all so un-happy here- they didn't just pack up and leave? He'd attempted to find out but no one would willingly talk to him and few had even reacted in outright fear. He didn't much like what that signified. Something deep in his gut had confirmed that there was something very wrong going on in the lands of Forodwaith but he did not know what. He wasn't sure exactly how he could help them either. They certainly did not look like they were willing to help themselves and that he decided was a battle in and of itself. The people were not willing to act and help themselves and he very much doubted they would welcome an outsiders help.

He shook his head and pushed those troubling thoughts aside. For now he needed an inn to spend the night in and something to ward off the chill that was clinging to his bones. His gaze swept over an old wooden sign and he could just make out the words "Snowy Eagle Inn". Well, at least they had one. Turning his horse he headed over to the inn. He came to a halt outside of it and dismounted it with languid ease. On the ground he stretched his stiff body until several cracks and pops issued from the vicinity of his back, shoulders and legs. Satisfied he walked into the inviting; or not so inviting depending on how you looked at it; warmth of the Inn. Several people looked at him as he stood in the door-way and swept his gaze across those inside and he causally rested his hand familiarly against the hilt of his blade. Most of them averted their gaze. Satisfied he found an unoccupied table off to the side and sat down.

And another night was going to be spent in the realm somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, with his sword tucked close to his body

Vaemyr grumbled his appreciation when a pint of cheap ale was set in front of him several minutes later. He took a long drink and set the cup down hiding a grimace. Stuff was certainly very cheap but it did what it was supposed to do and chased out the last remnants of cold that had persisted in clinging to him after he'd come into the warm lodgings. He felt the eyes of a few curious gazes slide in his direction before darting away to mind their own business. The light from the flames flickered over the hard unyielding planes of his face and over the breadth of his armored shoulders forming deep pools of shadows that made him look as if he could have crawled from the netherworld. A man with ice in his veins rather than the warm life blood that flowed through most all living creatures.

He lifted his ale and took another drink as his eyes drifted from table to table taking in the tiny details. Not many travelers were here, he mentally noted. They were all Lossoth. His eyes stilled and he slowly lowered his drink as his eyes fixed on a woman across the way. Well it seemed he'd been incorrect when he thought they were all Lossoth. There was something very familiar about that woman..something. He studied her a moment longer and when it hit him he about toppled over in surprise. "It couldn't be..." he thought collecting his scattered wits. It was surely impossible. There was no way that Brynne, daughter of the nobleman Bastion would be this far from Dale completely alone. It had been two years since he'd last seen her. Two years since he had left Dale for the second time in his life. But there was no mistaking the striking resemblance between the Brynne he remembered from two years ago and the woman who now sat at the other end of the Inn. It was certainly the same person, either that or there was some kind of hallucinogen in the ale he just drank.

Once upon a time he'd guarded the home of Bastion and his daughter Brynne. He had spent nearly three years guarding them. It was in the last year of his service that he'd happened across Brynne in the vast gardens sewing in the shade of a tree. He had been very impressed with her beautiful needlework and had asked if she would sew him a tunic and stitch in a design on his cloak. In point of fact, he was wearing the tunic she had made him as well as the cloak with the embroidery design. They were both of excellent quality and he was sure she could have made a fair bit of money for her skills. He regarded the woman who looked so much like Brynne with thinly veiled curiosity. Well one thing was for certain, he wouldn't learn the truth this way. He downed the rest of the bad ale and set the cup down carefully before standing up.

He adjusted his cloak with a few impatient movements of his hand and brushed his windswept hair away from his face. With a little grunt he made his way carefully to the corner of the room that the female occupied. He came to a stop a few paces away and spoke"Good Evening M'lady." he said in a low voice that carried well over the low hums of conversation. He almost never raised his voice past conversational levels, he'd never had too. His voice carried this strength that somehow made the words clear as day no matter the surrounding noise. It was not something one cultivated, it is something you are born with. Something inherent to you alone. He watched her turn her head to look at him. He bowed slightly in respect.

This close up he was absolutely certain that this woman was Brynne but he wasn't entirely certain she'd remember one of the numerous guards that had prowled through her home. That and one had to take into consideration time. Two years was a long time, for humans anyway. A lot could happen in two years time. "Might I ask what brings you so far from Dale?" he inquired. He noticed that she was twirling her finger in her and he hid a smile. He'd seen her do it often enough before when he'd strolled through the Bastions extensive maze like gardens. It was surprising finding out just how much he remembered from his time in service to Bastion. She had been a child about to step into womanhood when he left, so it was likely she would not remember him. "Forgive me M'lady, I am Vaemyr. I once worked for your father." he said introducing himself and bowing once more.

 

[darkangel76]

"Some wine, please," Brynne spoke softly, almost shyly, to the barkeep. Her one hand tugged on her shawl while the other had its fingers furiously twisting themselves about tendrils of dark hair that flowed over her slender shoulders. She gave him a smile, her cheeks heating up slightly as she blushed a light shade of red. For nearly two months she'd been living in this Lossoth village, yet she still felt like an outsider in practically every way. She figured it would probably always be this way though many tried to make her feel at ease, assuring her that she was welcome and safe ever since they'd found her and brought her back to Pynti-Peldot.

Brynne's thoughts drifted back to Dale and her last moments back in the comfort of her home before her life had been turned upside down. She could still feel those hands grabbing and pulling, dragging her out of the quiet calm that was her room and out into the hard cold of night. It was a mystery as to how such an invasion occurred on the grounds of her father's estate. Bastian son of Balthazar had always been so careful, especially where his daughter was concerned. A warmth spread over her skin as she recalled the countless guards he'd hired specifically to keep watch over her, to ensure her safety and well being.

Just then, a glass of wine was set in front of Brynne causing her to jump. She giggled nervously and smiled, place a few gold coins on the table for the barkeep to collect at his leisure. Letting out a shaky sigh, she turned to reach for her glass. Bringing it to her lips, she took a small sip of her wine, one hand still clutching tightly to her shawl. Her cheeks grew hotter by the minute as she sat there sipping her wine in both silence and a seeming solitude. Anxiety rose within her and her dark eyes began to dart about the room, taking in the sight of the Inn's patrons as the came and went. So it was most evenings for her since her arrival at Pynti-Peldot and how she wished she'd get used to things, though even more how she longed to be somewhere familiar.

As Brynne continued to sit, knowing she stood out amongst the patrons, her eyes caught sight of a newcomer to the Inn, his large frame and attire standing out as he confidently, yet silently made his way through the crowd. She sucked in a sharp breath as she carefully studied him from afar. She knew the garments well--that trim, the emblem... Even his face hadn't changed much over time, if she was honest. Though she knew he'd probably never recognize her let alone remember. She'd been but a child last he'd seen her, a waif who had little time for anything but sewing seams. Just what was Vaemyr doing this far north, she wondered. But then who was she to question a man such as he—a man of war.

Licking her lips, Brynne looked back at the cup in she held in her hands. Her thoughts were spinning and she wondered if she might need some air, something to clear her head. Biting down on her lower lip, she couldn't help herself. Once again, her eyes shifted and she looked to the man she remembered as a young girl, the one who requested she sew him the tunic he was wearing right then. Did he remember? Did he know?

Her questions remained unanswered for the moment and Brynne's spine stiffened, the blood rising to her cheeks as she suddenly caught sight of Vaemyr approaching. She hadn't expected her father's ex-guard to get up from his seat let alone meander her way. Had he truly remembered her after all this time? Or was it something else? Not wanting to dwell on such things for fear of disappointment, her dark eyes went remained fixed on her cup, her fingers twisting themselves idly through her dark hair. But, her trace of thought was interrupted when the warrior's shadow engulfed her. There was no ignoring him now, not that she ever could.

Brynne twisted her head, her eyes looking upward through thick lashes at a familiar face from the past, one she could never forget if she tried. They were so far from home, from Dale, from comfort as the hustle-bustle hum of the inn seemed to grow about them... what brought her away from Dale, indeed. Perhaps he did remember... or was it her coloring? Either way, it truly hadn't been her choice to be where she was.

"Vaemyr," Brynne whispered shyly, giving him a nod and setting down her cup. "I..." her voice trailed. Dark hair swishing, fingers twirling more furiously, she turned to see a small group of Lossoth walk past them.

Forodwaith truly was different from home, from Dale and Brynne felt like she didn't belong. But then, she knew she didn't. Her blood wasn't meant for the frozen wastelands of the north. It was thin and full of life and laughter, longing for pinks and greens of summer. No, she wasn't meant for deserts of snow. She'd been taken from her home by force, by wildmen who'd had the urge to plunder the nobility of towns such as hers and exploit their weaknesses and instill fear. Well, they'd succeeded there and now she was far from her family and everything she'd ever known. Whether she'd ever be able to return seemed unlikely and that weighed heavy on her heart, plummeting her soul into the depths of despair.

Brynne's eyes began to dampen slightly as the thoughts of that dreadful night swirled through her mind. But, she blinked them back and forced a smile upon her lips. She looked up into Vaemyr's eyes. "I..." her voice faltered slightly as she tried to hold back the tears she felt threatening to spill. She took a deep breath and regained her composure, not wanting to break down out in public or in front of her father's ex-guard. "I didn't come to Forochel by choice." She paused a moment as she swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly feeling dry as desert. In vain, the tip of her tongue peeked out and licked at her full lips in an attempt to wet them. "My home in Dale was invaded and I was brought northward by my captors. I was fortunate enough to be found and rescued by a band of Lossoth and then brought here." Her dark eyes shifted, averting downward. "That was about a month and a half ago."

 

[Karameida]

Uinen Alatar​

"Of course it had to be Goblins." She thought angrily as she ran from the group of Goblins that were in pursuit of her. Her robes allowed her quite a bit of free movement but still, there was always the risk of the fabric getting tangled around her legs and if that happened she'd be as good as dead. With that thought firmly in mind she grabbed fistfuls of the fabric with her free hand and hiked them up to her knees and with a groan ran a little faster. Of course if she had thought things through thoroughly from the start she really wouldn't have been in this situation to begin with. But she hadn't been thinking about it, hadn't been paying attention and it had caused her to walk right into the middle of a group of Goblins mid-raid. So what does she do? Never mind the magic she could of used to deal with it, no she uses her dagger to knife the one who'd came at her in the chest. And better yet, what did she do when the second one came at her? Completely ignored her staff and knifed the second one in the throat. "Brilliant as always En." she thought scathingly. By the time the knife had left the second ones throat there was no way she could use her magic, her only option had been to run. And so here she was. On a lonely road, in the middle of the cursed winter-lands of Forodwaith, at night. "Just...brilliant" she thought mentally cursing and kicking herself.

She wondered how someone as smart as herself had lived as long as she had. "Oh. Right. Almost forgot about the bit where I spent a good portion of my life in the Undying Lands. Don't really deal with this kind of thing there.." she thought glumly.

She could hear them screeching behind her and moaned to herself. They sounded close, much closer than she had originally thought. She considered chancing a glance backwards just to see but denied that thought before it had even finished fully forming in her mind. "The last thing I need to do is look backwards and run straight into a wall...or trip over a stick or something..." she thought shivering. Her dire situation was further worsened by the fact that no stars glittered in the skies to lead her to safety. Everything was left in an inky blackness that somehow seemed sinister. "Just the kind of night for a wizard to get her throat slashed..." she thought stifling a shudder. As if everything else wasn't bad enough, now her imagination was running rampant predicting the many and various ways she was possibly going to die at any moment. "Of all the rotten luck...." she thought. Her breathing was coming in short and ragged gasps. Her chest was heaving with each labored breath she took, the icy night air hurting her lungs. Her sides hurt and she knew she wouldn't be able to keep running for much longer. She just needed to get a little further to end up in Pynti-Peldot. Just a little more.

Well, she didn't make it to pynti-peldot but she did run across a group of hunters who were on their way back there. She wasn't sure what they would do but before anyone could speak the Goblins rounded the corner. The hunters reacted immediately and made short work of the small group and while she felt a little guilty she took that time to sneak away and head for Pynti-Peldot in hopes of finding an inn, she could see it in the distance. She sighed relieved that she'd come across those hunter, she would not have made it to Pynti-peldot before they had caught up. Even thought night had settled she decided on walking instead of running, her sides and lungs still burned. It would take her roughly ten to fifteen minutes to reach it, which wasn't too bad.

 

[darkangel76]

Somehow the sky seemed to get darker, the air colder. But that just wasn't possible, spiteful tricks of nature purposefully meant to deceive! As Maran huffed through the darkness, she could feel the fear coursing through her Noldor veins, her blood almost as cold as the ice that surrounded her for what appeared to be miles. Glancing down at her feet, she continued to run—her steps light despite how much she pushed herself—over the snowy ground of Forodwaith. Her body was trembling, shivering in both fright and from the vicious bite in the air as it gnashed at her pale flesh while she ran. Licking her lips, her mind drifted back to her family and how their bodies had been mutilated all those miles back... so much blood, so much screaming...

Maran's eyes began to water as she tried to shake off the fresh memory. She couldn't dwell on it when goblins could still be about. She needed to find safety, something! But there was nothing in this desolate area she found herself in, this place so different from home, from Rivendell. Just then, she heard a shout. Immediately, her gray eyes narrowed into slits and her body went stock still. The voices were gruff, speaking in a tongue unfamiliar to her own, clearly a language of the north. Blinking, she turned to see who was calling out and if their sudden presence meant danger.

"Who's there?" Maran called back in Elven, though she cursed herself for being so foolish as to speak at all. These were dark times and she was in a land strange to her and full of dark magic.

Her Elf eyes peered through the darkness as she clutched herself about her middle, her mind unsure of what fared in the shadows just out of reach. She dared a step, the voices louder and in the distance she was able to see the shadows of men and goblins as weapons clashed—steel against steel.

Maran's breaths quickened, her senses on full alert. The memory of the massacre was still fresh in her mind, the vision of her parents' and brother's bodies as they lay in pools of crimson in the hard packed snow. Her body shuddered and the urge to leave the area grew strong. As she watched the display in the distance, she knew she had to run, to find help. She was her family's last hope of investigating the troubles of the north, of reuniting with their kin in Lindon. There was much work to be done and due to the oaths she'd silently taken, she had to see them through.

Setting her jaw, Maran stepped back into the darkness, letting the men handle the goblins and hoping that none of the creatures caught her scent. Thinking of her parents, of her brother—Orrin—she turned quickly on her heels and made way into the moonless night. As she raced lightly across the snow, body trembling against the harsh and bitter winds, she heard a scuffle. Another?

Such dark times indeed.

Holding on to hope, Maran clutched her cloak and dared to call out once again. She was not suited for the barren wastes of the Forodwaith. "Hello?" she called out in Elven, her voice unsure. "Please..." she whispered, her eyes damp as fear firmly took hold of her heart and the weight of her task fell heavy upon her.

Meanwhile at the Inn of the Snowy Eagle, Brynne sat next to Vaemyr, her mind racing as she looked up into his eyes. So much time had passed since she'd last seen him, yet she recounted every moment they'd had together. Of course, she'd just been a child, a silly girl he had to protect because that had been his job. Though, she'd been angry when he'd left, despite understanding why he'd gone and...she'd missed him. She wondered if he remembered much about his station as her father's guard, if he remembered much about her at all. Her eyes noticed the cloak he wore. He still had it. But did it matter? Did it mean to him what it had meant to her? Looking down into her lap, fingers furiously twisting a dark curl of hair, she decided that it probably didn't. After all, why would it?

 

[Karameida]

Vaemyr :: Uinen Alatar​

Vaemyr watched Brynne closely as her eyes darted about and her finger twirled through her hair. And while she tried to conceal it, he'd caught a brief glimpse of unshed tears. He felt his body go cold as understanding slowly dawned on him. There were not many reasons for a young female noblewoman to be so far from home with no escorts. He had a nearly overwhelming desire to go to her but he forced himself to remain where he was. It would not be appropriate. He waited for her to speak to either confirm his suspicions or deny them. While he was fairly certain he was correct he always preferred to have definitive answers so he waited patiently for her to speak. It didn't take her too long to begin speaking and though he thought he was prepared for the news when he actually heard it he felt as if all the air had left his lungs and a dark anger unfurled within him. He wanted to find the ones responsible and make them pay dearly. However he forced himself to calm down, there was nothing he could really do anyways. He had other things that required his attention at the moment. He was a bit puzzled at his own reaction though, he'd already guessed as much before she'd said anything but there was something about hearing her say it that had gotten to him. He had guarded her and her family and would always be grateful to her for sewing him the tunic he now wore and she as well as her parents had always been kind to him but that didn't explain why he'd reacted so strongly. "She'd been but a child last I saw her. And I understand a little of what she must've gone through." he rationalized. While true it didn't quite feel right, he shook his head slightly pushing the problem of his reaction to the back of his mind. He wasn't sure why but he had no great desire to dwell on it.

"You do Dale proud." he finally said giving her one of his rare smiles.

"I am sorry you've had to endure so much..." he said trailing off. "But I am relieved to see that you are safe M'lady." he said after a moment. "You have been through quite the ordeal. I must say, you are a surprising female." he said as he watched her with a curious expression. Not much surprised him but she certainly did, first as a child with the beauty in her sewing despite her position in the world and now, having been taken from everything she'd known and left in a strange land. And not only surviving the experience but landing on her feet and doing what she did best to get by. A female who'd not ventured far from her home, one who'd lived a life of luxury. With no training and no knowledge of how to protect or provide for herself, she had beaten the odds and had survived in this cursed land. "You have my respect M'lady." he said bowing his head to her.

While she had survived this long on her own he didn't want to leave her again because she might not be here when he finished his task. He mulled the problem over in silence for awhile, he didn't want to put her in harms way but neither did he want to spend his time worrying about her as that would get him killed. He also knew the pain of losing someone dear, she had probably felt the agonizing pain within her chest. Her family must also be suffering. He could not abandon her, but he couldn't abandon Forodwaith either as the people here had suffered too long under this cursed winter. He looked at her for a long moment in silence. In the time he'd been away she had grown into a lovely woman but she was still much the same as before. Shy, quiet, kind, warm, nervous and so innocent. Her eyes shone with that kindness and warmth but all that she had been through had left its mark. How could it not? Darkness such as that always left a mark on the person. It had certainly left a mark on him. " If it were possible I would've preferred to take you back home immediately but I cannot leave my task unfinished." he said slowly at first as the idea formed in his head. "I also can not leave you unattended." he said furrowing his brows. He went over every possible plan until he concluded the only way to remain certain that she was safe was to take her with him but he didn't particularly want to because of the dangers he was bound to face. He hesitated a moment before speaking "There are not many options available here...it is to that end that I ask you to join me in my quest so that I may better protect you and return you home to your family. I can not force you to come with me if you would prefer to stay here." he said watching her face closely. "I will be doing much traveling throughout these lands and my task is not free of danger but I vow on the name of my family that I will see you safely home M'lady." he said. He knew her parents loved her dearly and were probably sunk deep in despair. It couldn't have been any easier on her. He hoped that the ones who'd taken her had not also killed her family. He just had to pray that they were alive and well and desperate to find their daughter.

---

En continued walking at a slow pace despite the lack of any light from the moon and stars. Then there was the biting cold that had worked its way through her clothes and threatened to freeze her to death. And don't forget the strong winds that moaned and tugged at her cape and hair. The cold burned her lungs with each breath, it made her thighs and arms tingle painfully and she was exhausted.

She came to a complete stop and looked around herself. She tightened her grip on her staff and turned in a slow circle to see if she could see anyone. She had heard someone speak, the woman's voice was uncertain and shaky and surprisingly, she spoke in Elvish. That piqued the maiar's curiosity, the voice also sounded very familiar. It was on the tip of her tongue but she couldn't pin-point it. A small gust of wind reminded her that she was very close to freezing to death in this desolate place, shaking her head she moved in the direction the voice had come from. She didn't have it in her to leave whoever was trapped out here alone, from the sounds of it she'd been through quite the ordeal. "Hello." she called out in response to the woman who'd spoken. "Please do not panic, I won't hurt you. If you would please stay where you are, I'll be there soon." she said her voice gentle and calm. She didn't want to scare the poor woman and cause her to run away. A night like this was sure to bring much death. En looked up into the inky black sky that held not even a single glimmer of the stars and pursed her lips as she made her way slowly to whomever had spoken.

It took En a few minutes before she finally located the source of the voice. The woman had been a little ways away and the task was made harder by trying to traverse the land with little to no light. "And here I am like I promised." she said. She couldn't see the Elf too well as Pynti-Peldot was still a ways off. You could see the lights glowing in the otherwise impenetrable darkness. En reached out and gently grabbed onto the Elfs arm "We should not linger out here long otherwise the cold will get us." she said. "That or the orcs....and very likely some of the natives..." she added silently. She pulled the woman along behind her and made her way to Pynti-peldot, the two traveled in silence and before long they found themselves inside the settlement and much to En's relief there was an Inn. Without thinking about it she pulled the woman with her as she made for the Inn.

Opening the door, she felt warmth touch her cold skin and she let out a long slow breath as the heat slowly seeped into her skin driving away the cold. She looked around at the patrons, her eyes searching for a place that they might be able to rest at. She spotted an open table near the back and pulled the woman with her. She turned to the woman and smiled "Finally, I thought I might freeze to death out there. I apologize if I startled or scared you." she said. Opening her eyes she finally got a look at the woman and her eyes widened in surprise and recognition. "Why are you here?" she asked clearly shocked. She wondered if maybe something had happened in Rivendale or perhaps she had been taken? Numerous questions and concerns flitted through her mind as she stared at the Elf who'd once been her pupil.

 

[darkangel76]

Brynne felt her cheeks grow warm as Vaemyr looked down upon her, his face kind despite the clear concern she saw etching the lines about his mouth and eyes. From the tone in his voice, she could tell that he'd been through so much and was attempting to ease her by taking on the burden of having not been back in Dale as he'd once been several years back. Yes, he hadn't changed a bit. The way he used to be at her father's side, doing his bidding and protecting their home. Vaemyr had been an asset to her entire family. She might have been young, a mere shadow to most, but she noticed... even as she'd busied herself in the gardens whether it was reading or working on a project requiring needle and thread.

Immediately, Brynne's fingers began to twist and tangle themselves through her long, dark curls. Her thoughts drifted to lighter times. Times before she was ripped away from a life of comfort and familiarity. She remembered that day in the gardens, the air smelling especially sweet as the breeze wafted in the scent of the freshly blooming honeysuckles. Vaemyr had found her in what she'd always thought to be one of the more secluded areas of the gardens, the paths like a maze where one truly could get lost if the light was right. She'd been so focused on her embroidery, an elaborate piece she was planning as a surprise for her mother, when the light of the sun was suddenly blotted out. Looking up, her dark eyes trying to focus, there he was—Vaemyr. It had been the first and only time they'd ever truly spoken without anyone else around. He'd been kind and complimented her, praising her skill as a seamstress. It was in those moments that he'd made his request...

Brynne's eyes focused on the crest that Vaemyr donned, her cheeks growing warmer by the second. Yes. She remembered the heaviness and loss she and her family felt when he'd left. Her heart had broken... Blinking rapidly, she drifted out of her small reverie and blushed.

"Thank you," Brynne said, a smile playing at the corners of her lips

A warmth began to spread throughout Brynne's body knowing she'd managed to earn the respect of such a man as Vaemyr. He was honorable, admirable. There was no man who held her opinion higher than he did. She sat in thought as she mulled over his proposition to join him. It was nice to see someone familiar once again, someone from home, from Dale. But most of all, it was nice to be in the company of Vaemyr. She never thought she'd see him again, that the rest of her days would be spent wondering where he'd gone and if he fared well. But fate had brought them back together. Biting down on her lower lip, she let go of the dark curl she'd twisted about her one finger.

"I've been staying in Pynti-Peldot for the past month," Brynne started, her dark eyes gazing up into Vaemyr's. "But this is not my home." She shook her head. "Yes, the people have been kind, but..." her voice trailed, going soft, a mere whisper. Absently, she reached up for her hair again. "It's nice to see a familiar face," she continued, her eyes suddenly staring at her lap. Her free hand began to play with the fabric of her skirts. "To not feel so alone." It was an admission of sorts, but one she felt compelled to state. With reddened cheeks, she looked back up into Vaemyr's eyes. "So, I shall continue to do Dale proud," she stated, sitting up straighter. "I will come with you. I promise not to be a burden, but to help you whenever and however I may."

Meanwhile on the outskirts of Pynti-Peldot, Maran stood still in the darkness and waited. With her Elf eyes, she could see the skulking shadows in the distance. Goblins! They were close, so very near. Trembling with fear, she felt her body freeze with terror, her mind swirling with morbid images of her mutilated family as those beasts ripped them to shreds and worse. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her heart thumping hard beneath her breast as she stood there feeling both helpless and hopeless. She reached for her dagger though her skills were only mediocre at best. Her true talents were in healing, not fighting or battle.

Choking on a sob, Maran noticed someone approach, no doubt the person she'd called out to and alerted moments before. Truly, this was a night of nights and somehow Illuvatar was smiling favorably upon his most beloved. Peering into the darkness, she watched listening to the voice—familiar—as she approached. She felt a sense of comfort in her presence and both the shadows and violent sounds she'd heard started to suddenly move away. Her steely eyes went wide and her breath hitched in her throat. Could this be happening? How? But she was grateful, the relief attempting to take over her tense muscles though she knew they were still in danger while outside the safety of town.

Maran glanced at the retreating shadows and swallowed hard. It was like a dream to be so far from the safety of Rivendell. As her thoughts drifted to that horrific and gruesome memory—her family's screams echoing in her mind—she could feel her heart begin to pound, the panic settling in once more. Trembling both from the cold and out of fear, Maran worried that they hadn't seen the last of the goblins. Her ears perked up and she could swear she heard a rustle of movement in the darker shadows cast by the spindly brush that surrounded them all.

Were the skulking creatures coming back?

Maran clutched at her arms, her mind reeling with grief and terror. Suddenly, she heard the word... clear as the night she recalled during her last one in Rivendell before setting out to the frozen harshness that awaited her in Forodwaith.

Run! Run!

Glancing up into the starless sky, a whipping wind moved through the area, blowing her snowy hair across her porcelain cheeks. Furiously, she brushed it away and without further hesitation, she nodded at the woman by her side knowing that they were in this together—their destination Pynti-Peldot—her slender fingers clutching tightly at the filmy blue skirt she wore and she set out into a dead run. Her cloak billowed behind her as she ran, her steps light and leaving no tracks in the snow. Her eyes peered out into the distance, pricking with tears as she ran through the bitter cold of night, terror coursing through her veins as she hoped to find shelter, some kind of safety away from whatever it might be that lurked in these frozen wilds.

As Maran and the woman ran, she could see the soft glow of the Pynti-Peldot in the distance. As they neared, she saw the inn—The Snow Eagle. Her heart pounded while her tiny hands shook as they fumbled for the door handle to the inn. She glanced upward at the somewhat rickety sign, her chest heaving as she pushed all of her weight against the door as she pushed it open. The heat that kissed her pale skin was welcoming as she entered the glowing warmth, the fires roaring, the people milling about with drinks in hand as she all but staggered into the place. Pausing, she glanced behind herself. The woman was with her and her face! She knew her!

Oh how long it had been!

Maran moved along the perimeter of the room, wanting to avoid any local drama and sat in her chair, her body shivering from the residual cold. She blew a hot breath against her hands in an attempt to warm them, wringing them together to help circulate the blood as her heart pumped and her body soaked up the heat of the fires she sat next to. Sitting quietly, she was a stark contrast to the patrons milling about, her lithe elven form so different from the Lossoth. She wondered if any of her kind had ventured into the frozen wastes given the news that had reached Rivendell. Considering how close Lindon was, her curiosity on the matter was piqued, however those were questions for another time.

"Dearest En!" Maran exclaimed, her eyes suddenly brimming with happiness. "I never expected to see you here. What brings you this far north?" she asked, her expression showing worry. She wondered if news of the growing poison had reached the ears of the wizards. If it had, this meant that the trouble was far greater than her family might've thought. And the darkness that could mean for her kin in Lindon and all of Middle-Earth...she didn't want to even dwell on it.

 

[Karameida]

Vaemyr :: Uinen Alatar​

Vaemyr watched Brynnes face and a fleeting grin passed his lips. Her face was so full of life and light. You could read her thoughts and emotions in her expressively brilliant brown honest eyes.

Though he had only talked to her privately in one moment of time, he often saw her around, talking with her parents or sitting and doing her needle work. He remembered her well. She had always worn her thoughts and feelings on her sleeves, for the most part. She had become a fine woman. "woman" the word echoed in his mind. Yes, she was a woman now. No longer a child, it would take him time to adjust. She had always been a simple but elegant flower that had to be guarded from the harshness of the world. She was older now and had seen that darkness firsthand herself. She was stronger than he'd thought she'd be. She had really been an unexpected shock. Not a bad shock he admitted to himself silently but a shock nonetheless.

He waited patiently as she talked, explained and worked her way to the answer to his question. "Time and kindness can certainly go a long way in making things easier but they are not what make a home." he said nodding. He however did not have an answer for her admission of loneliness. What advice could he give? He himself was afflicted with it but her presence did seem to make that cold feeling feel farther away. He tried once or twice to say something, he began talking his voice soft but unwavering "I know that I am incapable of easing that pain of loneliness inside of you but I swear to you that I will not leave you alone. As I vowed I shall make sure that whatever else happens, I will see you home to where you belong, back in the bosom of your family in Dale. I promise you will not remain within this darkness. There among friends and family the loneliness will disappear." he said. He made a fist with his left hand and brought it to rest over his heart before bowing his head to her. As long as it was within his power he refused to let someone else suffer as he had. Or to give up and die as his father had done. He would not let that happen to someone else.

He raised his head after a brief moment "I doubt that you would be a hindrance M'lady. Indeed, I'm positive that you will no doubt be invaluable during this quest. You have proven yourself very resourceful, I am honored that you will be accompanying me." he said flashing a smile. Neither of them spoke after that and things fell silent between them for a time, but eventually he spoke "I'm not exactly sure how long it will take me to complete my quest." he said sighing. Hesitating a moment he took one of the chairs that sat opposite of her. "A war has broken out in middle earth. I have come here to the north to seek aid. In order to do that I must first break the curse of the winter in the lands of Forodwaith." he said sighing and frowning staring at a spot on the table. It was the first time he had really sat down and thought about what he was undertaking. He really may have bitten off more than he can chew, which normally wouldn't be an issue except he now had Brynne. He looked up at her. She could not come to harm, he had sworn an oath and he would keep it. Somehow.

Blinking he turned his head in time to see two females more or less stumble into the inn. He raised his brow slightly, one of them was an Elf. He could not be certain about her companion but he suspected she was not, she was also not from Forodwaith. He wondered what had brought the elf and her companion to these cursed lands and what had they been fleeing from moments earlier? He followed their progress around the room for a moment before shaking his head and turning back to Brynne. It wasn't any of his business.

En smiled to herself seeing maran's eyes fill with happiness at seeing her old teacher. So much so that she had completely ignored her question. She smiled fondly at Maran as she reached up and pulled the hood of her cloak off revealing delicate but beautiful features, long golden hair and sun warmed skin. "Judging from your expression, you already have an idea of why I might be here." she said wryly. Her expression turned serious once more "I have come here to break the curse that Forodwaith suffers under." She looked around her blue eyes drifting over the patrons. It was filled with the Lossoth which wasn't so surprising. Her gaze passed over a table that was also on the edges of the bar but quickly looked back. There was a human male and female sitting and talking. Neither were from Forodwaith, that much was clear. Outsiders were treated with open or barely concealed disgust and there was nothing in Forodwaith that would be worth the danger. So, why were the two of them here? Shaking herself free of her thoughts she turned her gaze back onto Maran's face. "What are you doing here, Maran?" she asked. "Has something happened in Rivendale?"

Reaching across the table she picked up one of Maran's hands and held onto it with both of hers, they were so cold. "Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked, her expression worried.

 

[darkangel76]

The air in the inn suddenly chilled as the doors opened and a couple more newcomers darkened the doorstep. It wasn't odd for people to be coming and going at this hour, however it was indeed strange to see those not of the north entering the Inn of the Snowy Eagle. For a moment, Brynne tilted her dark head, her brow furrowing as she found herself wondering what brought an Elf and her companion this far from the havens of the fair folk. She bit down on the inside of her cheek, her thoughts drifting to the recent whispers she'd been hearing about dark magic, poison. The Lossoth—even the strongest men—had seemed frightened of what was stirring. Was it reaching farther than she'd realized? Could these people be from Lindon?

Not wanting to be rude and knowing it wasn't her business, Brynne turned her gaze away from the two women. Her dark eyes settled on Vaemyr's face, a face that had burned itself into her memory long before this night. His words seared her skin as her heart swallowed them whole. As her cheeks heated, she wondered if he knew just how much his presence meant to her, just how glad she truly felt to see him after so long. She missed her family, her desire to return them strong indeed. But sitting there in Vaemyr's shadow, she never felt more at home.

"Thank you kindly," Brynne said softly, her fingers gently twirling a stray dark curl. Her eyes had drifted away as her tummy suddenly began to flutter with a nervousness that hadn't been there until he'd made his solemn vow. "I will do my utmost to aid you while I'm in your charge." How right that felt to speak, if only it was possible that he didn't still view her as a child, a silly girl who could sew a pretty seam. "I've heard rumors of this winter you speak of," she continued, her expression darkening. "The men here, they..." she frowned. "I know it frightens even them. There's something wrong about it, dark and sinister." She shook her head. "I wish I knew more. However, there's been talk of Angmar."

Brynne paused a moment, her thoughts moving to the night prior when she'd overheard a group of hunters discussing how the fortress of Angband had shown signs of activity. The very thought chilled her to the bone. All of Angmar had seemed quiet for so very long. So to hear word that there might be something...anything...going on in the looming dungeon that had once housed the witch-king made her blood turn cold. She hoped it was merely whispers, paranoia getting the best of everyone as the winter dwindled on endlessly. But a part of her knew better than to hold onto such things.

"A hunting party was said to travel too close and..." Brynne's voice trailed and she bit down on her lip, her head turning to face Vaemyr. "Word is that only one survived. He no longer remains this far to the north. He's rumored to have traveled to Lindon, but..." her brows knitted together in worry. "But I've never heard of any Lossoth leaving the Forodwaith." As she sat there, she knew that wasn't entirely true. According to history there was one Lossoth who'd dared to flee the frozen north only he'd ended up dead, his people scattered along the peninsula of Forochel. The Lossoth were a proud tribal people. They wouldn't make the same mistakes twice. Would they? "Perhaps a start would be to seek out this man in Lindon or..." She didn't want to think on the 'or' just yet. To traipse into Angmar?

It was suicide!

Meanwhile, on the other side of the inn, Maran sat at the table and looked her old teacher in the eye. "It is so good to see a friendly face after all this time." Her face was full of sadness as she thought about her family, how the orcs had murdered her parents, her brother before her very eyes. "I was on my way from Rivendell to see what poisons hail from the north into Lindon." She shifted in her seat, pale hair falling over slim shoulders. "Word has reached us in the south that evil is hurting our kin folk, spurning the migration west."

Maran's gray eyes glistened with unshed tears. It was too soon for all of her family to leave Middle-Earth. She wasn't ready. Then again, she didn't know if she'd ever be ready. Far too much of her life had been invested in the realm and she hardly longed to leave it.

"My family was summoned to Lindon, only...only we were attacked on the way," Maran stated. "My parents, my...Orrin, En. They killed Orrin." A tear ran along her cheek and she gently brushed it away. "We were supposed to help them, to help heal those who've fallen ill."

Maran's abilities were known far and wide among her kind and the fair folk. En had taught her well and her family had always been so proud of the woman she'd become. Orrin had always been so supportive, the first to tell her to answer her calling and follow her heart. It was her that everyone in Lindon were most depending on. But even she wasn't sure that her knowledge and abilities would be able to help. Perhaps with En accompanying, they'd stand a chance. Something! Though she knew that they'd have to figure out what exactly was causing the problem in the first place. Why was Lindon in dire straights? She could only hope answers would come if she made it there.

"Would you come with me, dear En?" Maran asked, her eyes full of hope as she held onto her old teacher's hand. "Would you come with me to Lindon to finish the journey I began?"

 

[Karameida]

Vaemyr :: Uinen Alatar​

"As I said, I'm certain you will be invaluable." he said nodding. He looked at her a moment before she began speaking again about the winter he had mentioned. Watched as darkness crept into her eyes and face as she told him what she had heard. "The Lossoth?" he asked with a slight raise of his brow. "I asked a bit but, they don't like outsiders much." he said grimacing. He heard her begin to apologize and was going to tell her it was fine until he heard the last bit "Angmar? That bodes ill..." he said trailing off. The two sat in silence while Vaemyr digested the information. That boded exceedingly ill for the War overall, nevermind what it could mean for the frozen north.

The silence stretched between them until Brynne began talking once more. "A survivor in Lindon.." he mused quietly. He heard the question left hanging after her "or". "First, we will travel to Lindon and try to find this survivor. We will figure out the next leg of the journey depending on what we do or don't find." he said. He hoped they would find something in Lindon that would help, he himself did not want to go to Angmar but he wanted Brynne there even less. He put Angmar out of his mind for the moment, as it was, he and Brynne had a several day journey to Lindon that would begin in the morning. And she had things she likely needed to prepare and take care of.

"As it is quite late and we have a journey to begin in the morning, we should probably head to bed. You've no doubt things you must take care of before we leave so we won't start too early." he said. "Don't worry too much though, things will turn out fine." he said with a little smile before standing up. He bowed to her "I bid you a good night, Lady Brynne." he said before turning and heading up the stairs to where his cold room waited for him. He himself felt quite warm, which was no doubt due to his proximity to the fire, the bad ale and his armor.

Never would he have expected to find the nobleman Bastian son of Balthazar's quiet daughter this far north and even farther in the realm of impossibility is that she would be accompanying him on his journey through the frozen wastes.

En watched her former pupil across the table and waited to hear what she had to say. "Lindon is in trouble?" she asked surprised. She had not heard that bit of news, she figured Lindon would be more or less left alone. "I see...." she said trailing off a troubled look crossing her features as she stared at Maran, there seemed to be more she had to say but she was having trouble saying it. It took her a bit to work through it but immediately En's features softened, and she felt tears sting her eyes but she blinked them back, her heart went out to Maran and the pain she heard in her pupils voice and the grief in her eyes. Her own personal grief was great, she had come to know her parents and brother while she had been tutoring Maran and she was saddened that they were no longer among the living.

When Maran asked her to join her on her trip to Lindon, she hesitated a moment before answering. She had come up here for a specific goal and she did not want to stray from it, if it could be helped. But, hearing that Lindon was in trouble was worrying her and she felt it might provide some answers to her own questions or offer her a clue that might help. "Alright, I will go with you to Lindon and we will look into whats going on there." she said giving a soft smile. "You've been through a lot." she said. Despite the sadness, cold and uncertainty of the state of the world, she couldn't help feeling a touch proud of the woman Maran ended up becoming. She held Maran's hands across the table and gave them a little reassuring squeeze "I'm deeply sorry for your loss, Maran. You've had to deal with much shock and grief..." she said trailing off. "You do your parents, your kin and me proud, continuing on like you have." she said gently. "I am positive that between you and me, we can figure out how to help Lindon. " she said with a bright smile.

Out of the corner of her eye she couldn't help but note when the armored male across the way stood and bowed to his female companion before heading upstairs. For how inhospitable this land was to outsiders, the lone female did not appear uneasy at finding herself alone. "How were things in Rivendell before you left?" she asked curiously.

 

[darkangel76]

Brynne gave Vaemyr a sweet, yet shy smile, her cheeks flushed not due to the warmth of the fire, but due to the swirling emotion coursing in her veins. She nodded at Vaemyr, her eyes cast toward the floor. She didn't want him to go. Not when they'd just been reunited. But he was right that they needed their rest. The morning would come all too soon and then they'd set out for Lindon. The Elf Haven was a treacherous journey through the wastes of the Forodwaith. Not even the Lossoth dared the journey, then they had no reason to venture so far south.

"Good night," Brynne whispered, her hands fidgeting in her lap. She watched Vaemyr walk always, her eyes fixed upon him as he left. A part of her wanted to shout out, but she knew she must refrain. She was but a child in his eyes, just another charge he needed to protect. She wouldn't fool herself into accepting anything more than that he wished to fulfill his obligations to her family.

At that, Brynne stood up and smoothed her skirts. She had some items she needed to drop off before heading to bed. Tok had commissioned her to mend some of his hunting clothes—a pair of leggings. She'd only just finished the job, the garment folded neatly in her room. Her plan had been to deliver them in the morning, but she'd have to do so now and collect payment, as there wouldn't be time once the sun rose. Hopefully the bit of money would prove useful on the journey that she and Vaemyr needed to make.

On her way up to her room to fetch her things, Brynne stopped by to speak to the barkeep. "I will be leaving in the morning for Lindon," she said quietly, dark eyes fixed on the smooth wood of the bar.

The barkeep's eyes widened and he set down the glass he'd been drying with a rag. "Lindon?" he stated, his expression one of astonishment. "Do tell me you're not venturing all that way on your own." His tone was serious, his hands moving to his sides as he gave Brynne his full attention.

"I...I won't be alone," Brynne confirmed, her thoughts moving on to Vaemyr. "I'll be well taken care of. I..." her voice trailed. "I'm unsure as to how long we will be away, but...could I keep my room?" she asked. "Please?"

The barkeep smiled warmly and reached out to place a firm, but gentle hand on Brynne's shoulder. "I'm not one for warmlanders," he began. "But you've managed to melt this old northerner's heart." He wasn't Lossoth like most of the patrons, but a man of hearty blood, his kin the men of the north. "Your room won't be touched. It'll be here for you upon your return."

Brynne smiled and bit down on her lip. Truly, everyone had been so kind to her in the Forodwaith. It wasn't Dale, but she'd take this and cherish it. "Thank you," she said. "For everything."

At that, Brynne headed upstairs to get her things. She grabbed her cloak, pulling it on over her tiny form, adjusting it for the harsh wintry weather outside. She then picked up Tok's leggings and readied herself to drop them off. The air outside was biting, the wind nipping at her flesh with every step. It wasn't long before she'd reached Tok's home, though the sky seemed darker than usual overhead. As she waited for Tok, she looked up, wondering where the moon had hidden itself. Just then, the door opened and a gruff hunter who stood tall and proud looked down upon her. Brynne began to tremble at the sight of the large man, but she held her ground and looked him in the eye.

"I'm sorry to bother you so late," Brynne began. "But, I need to make an unexpected trip in the morning." Tok just stood there and crossed his arms. She then held out the leggings. Immediately, Tok's stoic face brightened with a smile. He took the garment Brynne had mended and grunted he disappeared inside for a moment. Upon his return, he handed her three gold coins for her work. Much more than she'd expected. "This...it's too much," she said softly.

Tok just shook his head. "Not nearly enough," he said firmly. At that his eyes hardened and he gestured that Brynne return to the inn. The night was no place for a woman. especially one as soft as Brynne. Her blood wasn't used to the harshness of the north nor did she understand what lurked in the dank shadows surrounding Forochel.

Brynne merely curtsied and raced back to the inn. It wasn't long before she was in her room and changing into her nightgown. She glanced about her modest room deciding what needed to be brought along on their journey. As it was, she no longer had all the luxuries she once did when in Dale. Her belongings were few and all easily fit into a single pack. Once done, she padded over to her bed and turned down the sheets. It wouldn't be long until morning.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Maran continued her conversation with her former teacher. She looked at En, her own face so determined. She was glad that the wizard would help her see her journey through. After the abrupt and brutal loss of her family, it was nice to have a friend again.

"Rivendell is well," Maran began. "Though the elders are concerned about what hails in Lindon. It is why my family and I were heading there." She sat back, her platinum hair shimmering in the firelight. "Though, I do not think they realize just what is occurring up here in the north." She paused a moment and took a breath. "Orcs this far north is very troubling. It's not terribly uncommon for a pair to wander up into the wood. But what attacked us was far larger, organized." She shook her head. "Dark magic is spilling up this way. Word should be sent back to Elrond."

Indeed, Elrond needed to be aware of what was occurring. Only, Maran had to see her quest through before she could head back home. It was her duty and she needed to do so for her family's sake, for her kin in Lindon who couldn't wait any longer.

"Perhaps we can set out tomorrow," Maran suggested, sitting back up and leaning over the table. "I fear that our aid to Lindon has already been delayed for far too long. Something needs to be done and quickly." She looked upon her former teacher with pleading eyes. She knew with En by her side, things wouldn't be as bad. The wizard was powerful, knowledgeable and she'd help distract her from dwelling on the loss of her family. "I need to help my kinsmen."

 

[Karameida]

Vaemyr :: Uinen Alatar​

En's mouth pursed tightly as she listened to Maran, nodding here and there through her explanation. "I see..." she said after a moment. En chewed on her lip and let the information cycle through her head, fitting them along with her own memories and information."So it was Elrond who sent you up this way... " she said trailing off for a bit. "It does seem that way, doesn't it? Somethings stirring, I don't like it." she said, her mouth turned down in a little frown.

Blinking, she smiled warmly at Maran. "I'll deal with getting word of what we've learned so far back to Elrond. I'll also inform him of your familys fate and let him know that you are safe with me." she said, absently patting Marans hand as she mentally went through options and what she'd have to do. Shaking her head slightly she brought herself back and looked at Maran, saddened by her former pupils suffering but proud of her determination and strength. "I understand. We'll set out as soon as we have rested for awhile here. We can't afford to be reckless in these unforgiving lands." she said. "I have enough for a Room. You take the bed, I'll take the chair, is that alright?" she asked. When Maran nodded, she stood up and walked over to the barkeep. "I'll take a Room" she said putting some coins down, he just nodded, handed her a key and took the coins.

En and Maran walked up to the single room for a few hours rest before their long trek to Lindon through the frozen wastes.

As light touched over the lands of Forodwaith, Vaemyr wakened. With a sigh he pushed the the covers back and swung his legs over the side of the bed, touching the ground with his feet. He stayed there a moment rubbing his face before finally getting up. They had a long journey ahead of them and waiting wouldn't make anything easier. He didn't have a whole lot and managed to pack fairly quickly. He got dressed, splashed some cold water on his face, dried off the water and then checked the room over before grabbing his belongings and closing the door behind him. He was worried about taking Brynne along with him, there were many known dangers they faced and who knew how many unknown ones but he couldn't leave her here. He shook his head irritated with himself for having the same argument with himself as he had last night. He already decided, told her, it was finished. There was no going back, for either of them. He forcibly and brutally stomped down his personal thoughts and feelings.

So, without much fuss or delay, Brynne and Vaemyr exited the Snowy Eagle Inn. Vaemyr walked over to his horse and grabbed the reigns, stroking his nose before climbing up. Reaching down, he offered her his hand, when she took it, he pulled her up and settled her in front of him, her frame trapped between his arms as he handled the reigns. Giving the horse a little nudge, they set off for Lindon. Silence stretched between the two as they traveled. "I apologize for the uncomfortable seating arrangement. If you start hurting too much, let me know and we'll stop and have a brief rest." he eventually said, uncertain of what else to say.

Back at the Inn, En and Maran were rousing and preparing to set off themselves. With nothing really on them, they were gone and on their way to Lindon within an hour. With no money on them, they were forced to walk to their destination. They walked in silence through Pynti-Peldot, En, pulling her cloak more tightly around herself as they walked. When the little settlement was behind them, En spoke up "What word did Rivendale receive that caused them to send you and your family all the way to Lindon?"" she asked, glancing at Maran as they walked.

 

[darkangel76]

The night had seemed to pass quickly, Brynne rising before the sun shone its first rays of light upon the frozen tundras of Forodwaith. A part of her felt a strange sadness as she packed what little she had into her tiny rucksack. The tribes of the Lossoth had proven far kinder than the stories she'd heard growing up in Dale. Still, she supposed part of that might have been due to circumstance, but no matter. These were not her people and she longed for home, for... She paused a moment as her thoughts flitted to a past nearly forgotten. She was a girl again, awkward and naive. Her nimble fingers moving to sew one of her finest creations, one that would come to be most dear. One she never thought she'd see again.

It didn't take long for Brynne to find herself ready and soon reaching back towards Vaemyr's outstretched hand. She imagined a smile on his lips as he called to her, urging her to take him up on his offer as he looked down upon her face, his eyes eager, a desperate longing that had grown over the years of separation. Ah, she was silly to play pretend at such things. One day she might be silly enough to believe the notions true and that was a dangerous game better left alone. She was far too intelligent to let herself be fooled by such things, though she knew she could hardly help the feelings her father's best man at arms conjured up any time he was near.

Cheeks growing warm, Brynne couldn't help but notice the warmth of Vaemyr's palm as their hands slid together, fingers entwining for a moment far too brief for her liking. Though perhaps it was for the best. He had no interest in clearly someone he still viewed as a child. Heart heavy, she tried not to notice the closeness, the way his strong arms encircled her body as they rode. Instead, she tried to focus on the hoofbeats of his horse, the way they rose and fell under his trot. But it was no use.

"Aye," Brynne answered, nodding slightly as the wind bit against her flesh. The morning air was cold and bitter, harsh just like the land surrounding them. "I will." Her dark hair fluttered behind her shoulders as they rode, her tiny hands moving to try and tuck it away, worried it might bother or even hinder Vaemyr as they rode onward to Lindon.

Time seemed to pass and Brynne refused to complain. She would not be a burden during this hard journey if she could see to it. Though the cold was starting to get to her, seeping deep into her bones as the day wore on. Her mouth had gone dry and traces of a headache were edging her vision as she squinted out upon the vast snows.

"I..." Brynne finally said, breaking the long quiet, her body shivering slightly. "I need to rest, I..." she felt ashamed. Why wasn't Vaemyr in need of anything? "I need water. I'm so cold."

Meanwhile, Maran walked side by side with her old teacher. The air was bitingly cold, the sky bright though clouds seemed to be slowly rolling in from across the seas. A storm? Perhaps. Such weather was common in the frozen north, though she wished she could ease the unsettling thoughts weighing on her mind. Her entire journey since leaving the haven of Rivendell had been filled with dangers, unexpected perils that even Elrond hadn't been able to predict with his gift of foresight. It was disconcerting to say the least, but the wise elf had been right to urge her family to Lindon. For their purpose had been far greater than merely healing those poisoned by this newfound evil seeping into the lands.

Maran nodded, silver strands glistening with the snow as the sun's shining rays filtered down upon the traveling pair. She tugged on her cloak, her lithe body longing for the green of the forest. "This is what frightens me, dear En," Maran stated softly, her gray eyes peering into the distance, ever watchful. Never had the light of day been so welcome. It meant orcs would be scarce, the evil beasts only roaming once safely hidden from the sun's direct light. For a moment, she thought of her family, of Orrin. Her resolve only grew as her sorrow deepened. "Elrond senses something growing in the north. It has been affecting it for centuries, though now it also affects Lindon. We can no longer play a neutral role. Not when our kinsmen's lives are at stake." Her cheeks flushed. "It's been bothering me for far longer, though father has always said it is not our place to interfere, but..." her voice trailed and she pursed her lips.

Maran had always believed that all creatures were tied to Arda, the fate of the Ring, to each other. Though she knew not everyone was of the same opinion. It had bothered her knowing her that others were suffering, people, the land. They were Illùvatar's chosen, most beloved of all. It was up to them to preserve, not run. However, run was precisely what her family had been sent to assist in Lindon. Though a part of her detested the idea, she feared for her friends and family suffering so close to rising darkness. They needed sanctuary. They needed to flee. But there was no way they could do so without help. Her family was to heal and then aid in the discrete march to the Gray Havens where her kinsmen could sail the ships to the Undying Lands. It was Elrond's wish. It was also the hope of Lindon, a means to preserve Elven kind.

"The time has come. I...I just wish there was another way," Maran went on. She explained why her family had been traveling to Lindon, their importance. She knew En would understand. She also knew En would understand her struggles. With pleading eyes, she hoped her former teacher knew how they might do better by her people, by her values. It was a selfish thought, at least in part, but Maran's ideals also had little to do with herself and more to do with a wider view of the world. "What do you expect we might find in Lindon?" she then asked, though her thoughts turned to the castle she knew had awakened and brought orcs to the north.