Death of an Eagle (Part II)


Gilthanas looks at the magnificent bird, speaking of Morgoth. He turns to Thorondor, and the women, and says, "I will return to the fort..I will attempt to find King Hador, or the Prince, and tell them of what has transpired..." As he finishes talking, he casts Thorondor a look of...understanding?...and turns, leaving the area, to return back to Barad Eithel. Gilthanas has disconnected.

"Morgoth." says Amanelen with no small measure of dislike and abhorration, "Morgoth, the Slayer of Lives." The elf shakes his head slowly, "Morgoth." His eyes are turning a darker shade of grey, at the mention of the man Morgoth, but nonetheless his face remains sad and his eyes remain cold, as always.

Teigril nods.."You shall remember and remind us..each time we see you in the sky.." her words soft..her gaze resting on the fallen eagle.."None such as this should fall..from the brightness..to.." and she pauses.. her throat closing..her eyes wet once again..

Thorondor bows his head low and lets his wings touch the ground, still spread out wide, his back turned to the group of smaller creatures and to Vorouk and Seleraeine...silence reigns over him for a moment...then he turns slowly, wings folding up and his eyes glassy and neutral, all feeling blocked away for now.."I thank thee all, for wishing to lend aid. I thank thee, even now that he is unable to recieve such...I thank thee for thee kind words, Vorouk deserved many such ere the end. Indeed, as thee say, he shall not be forgotten...we remember, we count...." The four words, sounding almost part of a oath spoken...many a time....countless times before...more times, then years have passed in mens reckoning. Age old they lie on his tongue.

Denetiel kepps her head bowed. Her lips moves silently and slowly to her self. With the words of Thorondor, she stops her silent prayers. Prayers to no one. Prayers to all. She looks up, straightens her body. Her eyes dry in the cool winter wind. She swallows and stares ahead. Looking. Wondering the power and honor. The beauty and emotion. Yet mortal they are. The pain and suffering. The grace. She blinks her eyes, and speaks lowly: "Morgoth..." With this one last word she can muster, her eyes see to flame with pain, anger, sadness and furry...

Teigril shakes her head.."But..to remember so long..the age of the world.." and her eyes grow dark.."I think..a lifetime too much.." she looks at the fallen, then the two with him.."I wish there was naught to remember..but remember we shall for the days given us... " and she stiffens her shoulders..

Alquawen arrives from the road that leads down toward Eithel Sirion to the east.
Alquawen has arrived.

Two humans stand before a fallen eagle..one eagle stands protectively over it..the other, Lord of Eagles..stands a bit to the side...

And an elf (*cough* Forget about the elves, hmm?) stands behind the humans.

Thorondor gives Teigril a odd look, not unfriendly but nothing to tell about it, except a little questioning, "It's what we have been through that makes us who we are, would thee be less then that which thou are now by forgetting thy past? Nay, remember...remember and make good on thy peace of mind...in other ways then forgetting. Sadness takes all, measure it with joy and thee shall surely prevail...I will balance this moment, with memories of Vorouks feisty spririt...I wish thee could know what he was like, to balance his sad passing to which thee saw..."

Teigril looks at the eagle..her eyes focusing.."I would NOT forget my Lord..what has happened..I only wish..such did not happen.. to ..I would not miss the memories..of death..would gladly hold the ones of joy.." she says..the words quiet..to the Great Eagle.."I wish..I did know of his glory.."

Seleraeine suddenly speaks again, her head lying on Vorouks chest and her words soft, eyes closed still..."There was none fairer born to flight, none who could claim more love for the high winds and rolling clouds...none to match his delight in tumbling around with the others...yet all of them, were just as unique...he could soar with the best and his laugh chimed from the heights to wake us on the snowy clad slopes of Crissaegrim at dawn, or at night...he was of a kinder spirit then most of our race...he would have become one of our noblest in time..." The words spoken slow and with a flowing grief...

Teigril listens..her head tipped to one side.."Glorious he was then..and so SHALL I remember him..I thank you..M'lady..tis a gift you give me.." and a almost smile creeps to her lips.. as her gaze goes once more to the fallen bird..

Denetiel's lips follow the words of the great eagle... As she comes to the end of her words, Denetiel repeats softly, "none fairer born to flight." Raising her gaise she looks the eagle in her eyes, "A painfull loss for you kind I can sense. A dreadful vision for all of us. I sense the spirit of Vorouks living on in the world. It is the spirit of strenght and vision. A martyr and friend for all of us. Darkness sweeps the land, yet we live. We live with the fallen and fight on until we too join Vorouks."

Thorondor nods to Teigril and looks upwards to his kin in the skies, listening to Seleraeine's words...as she stops speaking, he blinks his eyes, keeping them closed, then oncemore giving the gathered ones a sad look...he sweeps his wings open and makes a short-step-leap-forward and gathers Vorouks body with his talons gripping around him and underneath him....three times the larger bird, waiting to speak until he looks about ready to take to flight, Seleraeine backing too..."Vorouk would have enjoyed your company, he was always one to listen and talk...We must be away, to lay his body in the last resting place and then..." He looks off to the north and the blaze that alights in his eyes fairly shine with light...a aura, not blue, but golden this time...Seleraeine herself, mild as she has been so far, also casts her eyes off to the far off north...then they both launch into flight, Thorondor bending low and tearing up into the skies with powerful wingbeats, heavily laden with the body of the fallen eagle buthe flies...his cry coming down, "Thank thee all...and tell Hador, that his people are worthy honor indeed." With that, he rapidly swoops up into the heights, the birds following along with him, aiming for Crissaegrim...

Teigril follows their flight..til they are tiny dots..afar.."She looks at Denetial..and the others.."We..should go back.." looking about.."Though..I think tis safe..we should find the Lord..or Prince..to let them know.."

Blood and broken feathers sorround the wounds of the earth where Vorouk landed, blood lies there in small pools, darkening quickly...

Denetiel , her hands folded tightly together, follows the words of the great eagle. As the lord and his fellow noble birds acend into the sky, she drops her gaze for a secdond in reflection. Looking up once agaion she truns her head slowly to Teigril. A lonely tear flows down her face and drops off of her chin... She nods, "Ye... yes... let us reutrn... We...." She seems lost in search of the proper words....

Thorondor claws his way up into the air with a few beats of his powerful wings, soaring high in mere moments, faster gone then possibly dreamed of for a bird so impossibly large...

Dwindling to a small blot of color...and then...he is gone, vanished into the heights of which he is the prince and childe of the winds...
Thorondor has left.

Amanelen chuckles softly and speaks to the humans, "Remember, humans, that you are in the land of the Mithrim peoples. Do you not think that you should notify our leaders of these goings on? Or are your leaders the only important ones?"

Teigril turns.."I..surely you wish to tell your own?? I will gladly..if you wish.." She looks back to the blood..the feathers.. "I wish was not to tell.."

Amanelen laughs softly, "I? No, I will not tell anyone. I am but a common soldier, what use would the Kings of Mithrim have for one such as I?"

Alquawen glances at Amanelen, and shakes her head, and looks at the pool of blood , red upon the bare earth.

Teigril shakes her head.."Then...surely a human merchant would have little luck to gain their ear?? I..do not know who..you would have.. " she smiles.."The lady Lalwen..I have met..perhaps a word to her.." she says..and turns back towards the fortress, her steps seem heavy..

Denetiel looks up to the elf slowly. "We are all but common people in uncommon times. Your lords need to know of this. Our lords also. We must all search they who we first can find. Then... "Her gaze falls upon the blood and feathers, "A tragic happening. Let us return and search together the lords and ladies of Hithlum."

Amanelen chuckles softly, "A search is not needed for my lord, for I know exactly where he lies. But I will stand with you when you tell your Lord, if you wish." He shrugs, "I will tell the Lady Lalwen, yes, thank you for the suggestion, Merchant."

Denetiel nods to Amanelen and returns to the fort.

The End!!!


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