Post by aranel on Feb 5, 2006 6:29:19 GMT -5
Aranel had watched Arwen ride away, one hand linked over her shoulder, still trying to stem the flow of her blood. With one last glance at the Uruk-free ford, she linked the reins of Eressa's steed about her right hand, steering her own horse with only her left. Nimkalina lay balanced across her thighs, touching the saddle as it rose on Kalinoth's back. She could now only do as Arwen wished, leading Eressa's horse over the banking, then leaning close to Kalinoth in an inaudible whisper, "Noro lim."
The white equine immediately quickened his pace, giving Eressa's horse a powerful tug behind. The golden light of Rivendell thinned through the splayed leaves of overhead trees, and all anxiety and worry was left behind at the ford, knowing as long as she dwelt in Rivendell, her home would be her haven. She was safe. Prancing high over the tiny dip into the Elven Vale, the elves that were present stood back to allow Kalinoth a wide berth. Mutters wove across the thin population of those present, for no doubt Arwen had been past not too long ago. They had brought back with them the sense of fear and urgency, and the large gaping gash in the back of Aranel's shoulder was enough to prove that danger was, or had been close.
Aranel began to approach the stables as Arwen had requested, and dismounting briefly to tether Eressa's horse outside, she was quickly galloping at a thundering force and speed back to her own dwelling, her shoulder needed a look at. Her white maple house of Elven carvings soon thinned through the trees, and Aranel, knowing Kalinoth would not readily wander and become lost, was left unguarded, though by now Aranel did not care, stripping off her torn cloak, sheath and overdress to the garments below; a shirt, armored corsage, and trousers tucked into Elven boots.
The hours passed, the day grew a little darker, and the moment of fear and danger was mostly forgotten when Aranel re-emerged, her shoulder and calf bandaged tightly, a white velvet dress with a wide scoop neck and long, drapey, translucent sleeves of silver-embroidered cream silk. However it was the expression in her icy, silvery blue eyes that was the worry, so filled with an anxious anguish that could not be stemmed as easily as her blood. Nimkalina was in her hand, shining silver and clean as it was tucked into the side of the saddle, and Aranel placed one knee-height, cream boot-clad foot in the stirrup, the flat soles finding their hold as she pulled herself up. Upon her dark brown hair sat a silver Elven circlet. It had been her mother's, and she wore it now for appearance's sake. Kalinoth had not rested, nor needed to rest. The cart horse side of him needed no recuperation. Again Aranel turned back to the House of Elrond, for Arwen had told her she was taking Eressa there, and as she thought, Eressa's horse was still tethered outside.
The white equine immediately quickened his pace, giving Eressa's horse a powerful tug behind. The golden light of Rivendell thinned through the splayed leaves of overhead trees, and all anxiety and worry was left behind at the ford, knowing as long as she dwelt in Rivendell, her home would be her haven. She was safe. Prancing high over the tiny dip into the Elven Vale, the elves that were present stood back to allow Kalinoth a wide berth. Mutters wove across the thin population of those present, for no doubt Arwen had been past not too long ago. They had brought back with them the sense of fear and urgency, and the large gaping gash in the back of Aranel's shoulder was enough to prove that danger was, or had been close.
Aranel began to approach the stables as Arwen had requested, and dismounting briefly to tether Eressa's horse outside, she was quickly galloping at a thundering force and speed back to her own dwelling, her shoulder needed a look at. Her white maple house of Elven carvings soon thinned through the trees, and Aranel, knowing Kalinoth would not readily wander and become lost, was left unguarded, though by now Aranel did not care, stripping off her torn cloak, sheath and overdress to the garments below; a shirt, armored corsage, and trousers tucked into Elven boots.
The hours passed, the day grew a little darker, and the moment of fear and danger was mostly forgotten when Aranel re-emerged, her shoulder and calf bandaged tightly, a white velvet dress with a wide scoop neck and long, drapey, translucent sleeves of silver-embroidered cream silk. However it was the expression in her icy, silvery blue eyes that was the worry, so filled with an anxious anguish that could not be stemmed as easily as her blood. Nimkalina was in her hand, shining silver and clean as it was tucked into the side of the saddle, and Aranel placed one knee-height, cream boot-clad foot in the stirrup, the flat soles finding their hold as she pulled herself up. Upon her dark brown hair sat a silver Elven circlet. It had been her mother's, and she wore it now for appearance's sake. Kalinoth had not rested, nor needed to rest. The cart horse side of him needed no recuperation. Again Aranel turned back to the House of Elrond, for Arwen had told her she was taking Eressa there, and as she thought, Eressa's horse was still tethered outside.
