Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » Laew Lend {1x1x1}

Sylvryth reached for her waist instinctively, but realized that she carried no weapon that day. She had no need for it, anyways, since the Man fled after the Elf's warning, so she supposed it wasn't so bad.

However, Sylvryth wasn't exactly sure whether she felt offended or flattered that Erindín blocked her from the potential fight. She took into account that he was a stranger from Gondor that knew nothing of her martial skills, so instead of taking offense she merely said nothing, reminding herself that it was an act of kindness and chivalry to protect a woman...even though she could easily protect herself.

Erindín spoke to the Elf, and Sylvryth watched silently. She decided that the Elf was... strange. He acted nothing like the Elves she had heard of and seen; he was sly and very outright, as if he had been raised in a society of Men. He had nothing in common with the solemn, uppity elves she was used to.

" yes, im doing quite well thank you.. I deal with guys like him all the time" Keth said sighing " Anyway, thank you for stepping up to assist if it was needed." he was calm despite what had happend, he return to his seat and asked for some more food.

Erindín gave a hesitant nod. "My pleasure."

He stepped back until he stood next to Sylvryth, eyes still on the Elf. Now his gaze was more curious than wary.

"Interesting," he said to her, voice low. "Are Elves a common sight within your village?"

Sylvryth smoothed back her hair a bit. "Nae, they aren't... at least, not as long as I've been alive," she replied softly. She glanced at him...well, glanced up at him (stupid men and being so tall...). "A curious sort, though, wouldn't you agree? I've not seen many Elves in my time, but he... he is different." Her gaze shifted back to the Elf at the bar, scanning his back, as if that could help her judge his character and motive for being in Bree.

"Very," Erindín agreed. Elves were a mystery to him, as they were to many, and he didn't have much experience in dealing with them. But he knew enough to find this Elf's behavior strange. A lone Elf, sitting in a tavern of Men--and a few Dwarves, even!--speaking to a stranger with not a hint of superiority? Interesting, strange, and a tad bit unnerving.

"Perhaps," he said, voice lowering to a whisper. "It would do us well to keep an eye on him."

He spared a moment to wonder how sharp an Elf's hearing was, and whether or not the Elf would take his suggestion as an insult, if he had heard it.

Since the commotion had died before it could become a problem, and since there were no signs that another would begin, Erindín supposed they could return to their ale and Slyvryth's map--their previous conversation, however, could be forgotten. Erindín would prefer it to be forgotten, in fact. He cursed himself for an idiot to even think of drawing Sylvryth into his problems.

He wouldn't say no to more pleasant conversations with her, however. She was good company, and her tip about the ale had been most helpful. The night was turning out to be far more delightful than he'd expected.

Finally taking his eyes off the Elf and fixing his gaze instead on Sylvryth's, he placed a hand on her shoulder and gestured towards their abandoned table. "Shall we return to our seats?"

Sylvryth looked up to him once more, and nodded. "Aye." She gave one last lingering glance towards the Elf, then slowly moved back to her seat, sitting down quietly and reaching for her mug. She held her ale in both hands and sipped it slowly, now just watching Erindín. What had they been speaking of? Ah yes, he wanted a guide to a village north of Bree. She completely forgot about whatever he had said about a man he had dealings with.

"If you're still interested in going north," Sylvryth said, "I'll be happy to assist you. I used to live up north, you see, in Archet." She reached across the table once Erindín was seated, tapping her finger on a small dot market Archet.

Sipping at what was left of his drink, Erindín considered the woman before him. He nodded. "I would appreciate the help."

He set his mug and bowl aside, then raised a fist to hide a yawn. "I understand this is sudden, but I was planning to leave before sunrise, and still hope to do so, if it is no trouble to yourself?"

"Sunrise." Sylvryth repeated. "Of course, that will be perfectly fine with me. It's a day or two's journey on foot... Unless you have a horse, or were planning on renting one from Mr. Hengaster near the northern gate?" She shifted her statement to an inquiry, and watched the man. She wondered suddenly if she could trust him (with his Ranger garb and all), but she pushed the thought aside. She could easily defend herself against any man, and besides... Erindîn seemed too gentlemanly to secretly be some villain. It was hard to act as he did and be hiding something.

"Ah, well," Erindín frowned and stroked his short beard. "A horse would be preferable. Though I am far more familiar with traveling on foot. It is how I arrived here." He folded his arms on the table and studied the map. "If I've enough coin, I will rent a horse. The quicker we travel, the better."

He only hoped they arrived near Archet before his quarry could disappear. And that was if his quarry had even taken the route that Erindín suspected he had.

For a moment, he was lost to self doubt and worry. He sighed and ran his hands through his hair, staring intently at the map, as if the parchment itself could cough up answers.

Sylvyrth studied him, watching his countenance become worried. She leaned on her elbows on the table. "If you haven't enough, I will gladly help you pay. I've my own horse, you see. I would let you tag along, but I don't think it would be very comfortable for you to ride behind me in my saddle." She smiled gently, obviously just teasing him about that.

He met her gaze without raising his head and gave a slow smile.

"Well," he said, sitting up and grinning. "I wouldn't be completely adverse to it."

He almost added I'm sure it would be quite comfortable, in fact, but stopped himself when he realized it would be uncouth of him to do so. He'd become far too comfortable in Sylvryth's presence. Her attempt to lighten the atmosphere, which Erindín had undoubtedly ruined, had reminded him of his Ranger brothers. But she was a lady--in a crude environment, no doubt, but a lady nonetheless.

"To your aid in renting a horse," he added quickly, fighting a blush. "I will be eternally grateful." He picked up his mug and feigned checking for more ale to avoid her gaze. "Well, we've an early morning, Sylvryth. I apologize for keeping you. Do you live far from here?"

Sylvryth laughed, a light, soft laugh from her throat, without need of her opening her mouth very much at all. She tucked that strangling bit of hair behind her ear and reached over, taking her map back and tucking it neatly into her bag.

"Mm, no, I do not, Erindín. Just a minute or two away, in fact." She slung her bag over her shoulder and straightened out her clothes, which had become a bit wrinkled from sitting so long. "Now then, I will meet you in the morning, bright and early, with one of Mr. Hengaster's best horses. I should be heading home to ready my things for my trip. Shall I bid you a good night, now?" She still had a smile on her face from his first comment, and it brightened her otherwise plain countenance.

Erindín was still looking into his mug when she laughed. He looked up to catch her smile, and decided the next two days would be considerably brighter than he'd ever expected them to be.

"Ah, yes." He scooted his chair back and stood. "Tomorrow morning, bight and early. I will be ready."

He took a breath and looked down at her. The evening had seen him make a fool of himself, both on the road and in front of a lady, and he refused to end it looking like an uncultured fool.

His mother had raised a gentleman, after all.

Decided, he bowed and took her hand, deliberately ignoring the crowd around them.

"Good night, and sleep well, Sylvryth," he said, meeting her eyes over the gentle bend in her wrist. He touched his lips to the back of her hand and smiled. "And thank you. For everything." He lowered her hand, eyes dancing.

((OOC: Ooooh, Ranger man puttin' on the charm strong! ...for the first time all night. ))

{Oooohhhhhh snap! //fangirls over him//}

Sylvryth watched him, and at first looked confused when he took her hand. At his words, and the touch of his lips to her hand, a blush spread over her cheeks. She wasn't some noblewoman... He needn't act so respectfully to her! The act made her stomach flutter, and she was both uncomfortable and very flattered at once.

"O-Of course," was all she replied, meeting his gaze with an unsure smile.

Never had anyone treated her like that! She had always just been the farmer's daughter, or the guards woman no one respected. The more she thought about it, and the more she watched his dark eyes sparkle, the redder her face became, and she was suddenly glad for the dim lighting. She pulled her hand away after he released her and backed up a step, now looking very shy and flustered.

"Yes.... Well, goodnight!" And with that, Sylvryth hurried out rather quickly, hoping no one else had seen her blush so hard at such a simple act.

Erindín watched her leave, his smile lingering. That hadn't been disastrous, thankfully--one might even suggest he had been almost successful in charming the young lady. He felt that he had been a bit successful, anyway, especially considering the fact that he had embarrassed himself far too often (this had gifted him the sight of her smile and the sound of her laughter, true, but the embarrassment was still there.) He couldn't help but let his smile grow as he turned towards the stairwell.

Had his fellow Ithilien Rangers been there, they might tease him about driving her off, but they were leagues away, so it didn't bother him.

He began to ascend the stairs, sparing a quick glance at the Elf that still sat at the bar, and wondered at all the surprises the night had given him. This land, he thought when he reached his room and shut the door behind him, is not at all what I expected.

The next morning a heavy mist settled over the small town. The air was thick and cool and damp, making one's clothes sticky and driving people to remain indoors until the sun rose to drive the fog away. However, there were a few people mulling about their early morning business, one of them being Sylvryth.

Sylvryth was leading two horses towards the Prancing Pony, one a flaxen steed and the other a horse of pinto markings. She was no longer in her dress she had worn the night before, but instead she had traveling clothes on, in which trousers and knee-high boots were in order. She had her weapon now, her axe, her darling, stuck to her hip beneath her thick cloak, for protection on the road north. Honestly, the woman was rather excited about the whole ordeal, even though she would be traveling with a near-stranger. Erindín seemed kind, and she was sure he had interesting stories to tell, should she ask him.

{You kinda didn't make him interested in our charries at all xD

Lessee...
Kethual can be heading north as well and come along for the journey? C:}

the sound of a horse galloping came from behind her and slowed down next to her " your the girl from the Tavern last night right?" Kethual asked her with a kind smile, his hair was fixed to where you could see his friendly golden eyes

Sylvryth looked up in slight surprise. Who would be up this time of morning? When she saw a familiar Elf, she looked genuinely surprised. She watched him for a moment, then nodded, offering a curious smile.

"Aye, sir, I am. What of it?" She continued walking the horses towards the tavern, but she kept her gaze on the Elf riding beside her. All that went through her mind was why on earth the Elf was speaking with her so early in the morning...

((Sorry for the uber late post, guys! I bring virtual chocolate cookies in apology. *hands out cookies* ))

Erindín strode through the almost deserted common room, hefting the pack slung over his shoulder to keep it from slipping off. He nodded to the sleepy eyed innkeeper walking behind the bar and the two yawning patrons sitting by the fireplace. The innkeeper watched him as he passed by. Annoyed at the town’s apparent collective distrust of Rangers, Erindín pulled the hood of his cloak up to avoid the man’s gaze, and slipped out the door.

The morning was just as he’d expected it to be. He was used to cool, damp mornings, and though this was not an Ithilien morning, he did not mind it.

He set his pack and quiver of arrows down and leaned back against the wall of the inn, resting his longbow by his side. The bow was unstrung to keep the damp early morning air from damaging the string, which was tucked into his leather pack, along with some apples and bread, his coin purse, and a few other essentials for the road. His sword was at his hip, his dagger hidden beneath his cloak. He wore all his gear, from his weathered vest to his trusty gauntlets.

He was ready and eager to travel, and though he had not planned on a guide accompanying him--especially a woman--he looked forward to the days ahead. Sylvryth was a fine woman.

Smiling to himself, he folded his arms across his chest and waited for his guide to arrive.