elessar_telcontar | First Feather [Action/Voice]

Current Mood: confused

Entry tags:

First Feather [Action/Voice]

[He could hear running water, but it was not the Anduin. The flow was too fast and the bed too shallow: a bubbling stream rather than the mighty river. It was like the laughter of a child, not the roar of the great Anduin. Aragorn slowly opened his eyes. Above were dark trees and a cold, bright sky, but the sun had shifted and the season seemed wrong. His body was aching and sore, though he didn't recall being struck. There had been orcs, he remembered. They were under attack and he'd heard Boromir's horn and run toward the solemn call. Boromir. The memory returned to him and stabbed at his heart like an icy blade. He had arrived at the clearing too late and found the Gondorian dying on the cold ground, his chest pierced by thick-shafted arrows; his bright lifes-blood mingling on the hard earth with the black ooze of his felled enemies. With his last breath the man had pledged himself to Aragorn and called him king.]

My brother.

[Aragorn's voice was hoarse, his throat dry like parchment.]

Forgive me, Boromir: I have failed you.

[He sat up slowly, wincing in pain. He didn't recall being struck, and if the orcs had attacked him while he knelt over his dead friend then why had they left him alive? And why had they... taken his clothes? The cool breeze pricked at the man's bare arms and chest and he realised with a start that his clothes and cloak were gone and he wore only a thin pair of white trousers. His weapons were also nowhere to be seen. Nor was Boromir, though his absence seemed more reasonable when Aragorn realised that he was no longer on Amon Hen. As orcs were not known for stripping their enemies, moving them and then leaving them alive, if injured, in woodland clearing, it was clear that someone else had done this, though to what end Aragorn had no idea.

Moving more stiffly than he would have liked, Aragorn searched the clearing quickly for his weapons, but there was no sign of sword or bow or knife, nor of his clothes. All that he could find was a book resting in the soft grass, bound in dark leather. There was no title on the cover, but Aragorn could clearly make out an image embossed in the soft leather: a bare tree crowned with seven stars. Whatever the book was, it was clearly meant for him. The book was lighter than it looked. Leafing through a few pages, Aragorn was shocked at the contents, for the images on the pages moved, as though under some enchantment. He had seen images in fire and smoke and water, but even in Elrond's library at Imladris he had never seen such a book, with images that moved as though alive. And it was not only the images that were a surprise: there seemed to be voices speaking to him from the pages, soft and whispering like voices carried on the wind.]

Would that you were here with me, Gandalf, to tell me the source of this magic.

[Aragorn closed the strange book quickly, but felt compelled to hold on to it and take it with him. Unwilling to venture out both naked and unarmed, the man picked up a sturdy-looking branch and swung it as if wielding a longsword, inhaling sharply as a shock of pain ran up his spine. Aragorn laid down his new sword and began to run calloused hands up his back, searching for a wound that might need urgent attention, but felt no blood. He was surprised the find something protruding from his back, but it was not the sword or axe or arrow he might have expected. It was something... feathery?]

What new strangeness is this?

[There was thankfully no sign of any orcs, but perhaps there was someone close who could tell him what was happening. Perhaps, wherever he was, Legolas and Gimli were also here. Drawn by the sound of rushing water, Aragorn made his way to the nearby stream and began to follow it east, hoping that he might find someone along the riverbank, or that it might lead to a settlement. After a short hike of around two leagues, Aragorn crested a small hill and saw below him a fairly large but unwalled town. There were houses and a large open square, several larger buildings, though none looked fortified or seemed obvious great halls. The town was a mile away still, but Aragorn could see people moving around the market square.]

Why do they all have wings?

[Well, the best way to find out what was going on was to ask someone - even if he wasn't dressed for company. Carrying his enchanted book and his makeshift wooden sword, Aragorn headed toward the town, hoping to find some answers, and with luck his friends. And some clothes.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I think perhaps warming myself properly might be wise, after all.

Now that his body was a little warmer, Aragorn began to notice that he could hardly feel his feet, and his toes had begun to turn a worrying shade of blue at the tips, which he knew to be a bad sign.]

If this bar you know has a warm fire and a chair to rest in than I'll gladly follow you there. I think a strong drink might also benefit me. Please, lead on. You are a ship's captain? Is she a tall ship, your Enterprise, or only a corsair?

_{[Oh, this was going to be a fun conversation into town, wasn't it?]}

Buffy keeps the place warm and clean, so trust me, you'll like it.

As for that other bit - uh, it's not a sailing ship, it's a space ship. I travel in it to different worlds, or at least that's what I'm supposed to be doing if I wasn't here.

A ship of the air? I thought Vingilot to be the only such ship. You are like Earendil, then - a mariner of the skies. Earendil is my forefather, but I never thought to meet another of his sky-fairing kind.

[Aragorn smiled wistfully, thinking of Earendil, Elrond's own father, sailing across the skies in his mighty ship Vingilot, bearing the Evening Star upon his brow. Kirk did not seem quite so magnificent as he imagined the Mariner to be, but this man must have some favour with the Valar to be granted such a ship.]

Would that you had your Enterprise here and could sail me back to friendlier shores - though there are few of those now. Perhaps 'more familiar shores' would be enough.

[He stamped his feet to try to get some warmth and blood into them, feeling like an impatient steed stamping its hooves. Truly, his feet felt as hard and iron heavy as shod hooves now.]

Please, if we do not get somewhere warm soon I fear that my feet won't carry me there.

Oh, oh right, talk and walk.

_{[He motioned and started off, heading through the town's streets and aiming for the store where new feather's clothing could be found. If it wasn't, well, he'd take him to go get some new threads entirely.]}

And, you're still not getting it. The Enterprise, she's a space ship. That is... _{[He pointed up towards the sky.]} I travel in the stars, in outer space. I go up and out of Earth's atmosphere and use warp drives help me cover the vast distances between planets. And believe me, I wish I could use her to get us all home, but I don't have contact with her or my crew right now, except Spock. Effectively, everyone here is stranded. Not happy news, I know, but it's the truth.

[Aragorn followed as briskly as he could with suddenly leaden feet and tried to understand what Kirk was explaining, as strange as it was to him.]

You mean that, while Vingilot carries a star, Enterprise travels to the stars? That is a thing that the elves would greatly love. If Elrond were here he would make you talk with him for hours. He has always loved astronomy. I remember sitting at his feet as a boy, as he gazed up into the night sky with his telescope. Though I think he was hoping to see his father up there.

[Aragorn continued to follow Kirk through the town, hoping that they would reach somewhere warm soon, but still thinking of the other man's explanation of his ship.]

If you find Enterprise again, I would like to travel in her, I think - to see what lies beyond the veil. But first I would ask you to sail me home - I have much to do there.

[Aragorn's expression grew grim as he remembered what dangers he had left behind - the dangers that his friends now faced without him. He reached a hand to his throat, as if to touch something there, but there was nothing, and he suddenly felt entirely naked, without the jewel there to bind him to his beloved.]

Heh, sure, I can do my best. Though, I'll be honest, there's a lot of stars out there, and if your planet has barely discovered air travel, chances are it's not capable of sending out telecommunications signals and thus isn't properly mapped.

But I'll do my best, if we get the change.

_{[He led him into the right building and rubbed his arms, a little chilly now.]}

Tell them your name and they should have your stuff. If not, I know where we can get you some other clothes in the time being.

[Aragorn stepped inside, glad of the relative warmth in the small merchants' store, and quietly gave his name to the merchant behind the counter. The young man stepped away into a back room and returned a moment later with a pile of clothes. Aragorn was startled to find that the neatly folded clothes included a long green coat which reminded him much of his own coat, but clean and undamaged. It was not only like his coat, but He would swear it was his coat, exactly as it had been when he had first bought it many years earlier. Beneath the coat were also an embroidered shirt of soft linen and dark woolen leggings that were like his own but new and clean, and a good pair of walking boots, the leather soft and unscuffed. He smiled at Kirk.]

What a wondrous thing. Can this place make me new again, as well? I'm not as young as I was, and have been patched and repaired almost as often as my coat.

[He quickly pulled on the new and yet familiar clothes. All that was missing was his belt and those items that had hung from it - items like a sturdy sword, a keen hunter's knife and a small but vital ouch of herbs. Those, he supposed, were too much to hope for.]

The boots are welcome - my toes are turning an unappealing shade. I feel a little more myself again, properly dressed.

Yeah, we all do. Trust me, I felt... weird without my uniform. I mean, I know I'm in basic jeans and shirt right now, but it's having the familiar, you know?

_{[He gave the other a grin as he took back his coat and shrugged it on, turning back into a marshmallow and clearly glad for it.]}

I know a good pub if you're still up for food. The bonus is a pretty lady runs it ~

[Aragorn breathed into his cupped hands, restoring some life to the cold muscles, and gave the other man a soft smile.]

I have no need of fine women - or bar wenches - but a little food might do well to bring me back to myself, and help me to think. A good fire too. And perhaps a mug a pipe, properly stocked?

_{[He laughed and shook his head.]}

First rule - don't call her a wench or you'll get a wrench to your head. She's pretty, but she can kick your ass if she wants to, trust me.

And she has enough of the booze, but not sure on the pipe and stuff, though I've seen people smoking, so she might. It's her bar, after all.

_{[He shrugged and motioned.]}

Come on, her place is warm and I'm tired of being cold.

[Despite the discomfort and strangeness of this place, Aragorn could not help but warm to this man, and smiled as Kirk laughed He could not recall the last time he had laughed, and was not sure that he remembered how. When had he grown so sombre? He had laughed often in his youth, he was sure.]

I would never offend any lady, though I am intrigued to meet one who can 'kick my ass', if its meaning is as I believe. I would prefer not to have to defend myself until I've warmed my bones and put at least a little bread in my belly, so I shall gladly address her as a queen if she can reacquaint me with a bowl, a cup and a pipe. Please, lead on.

Oh god, don't blow up her ego! Though, she might not like it anyway. Her name's Buffy, by the way, just call her that.

And I don't know what bread she has, but she has bar food, which puts a warmth in the belly well enough.

_{[He trudged through the cold and motioned to Buffy's bar, just feet away.]}

Behold! Salvation awaits us!

[Aragorn followed through the snow, his new boots soft and sturdy and wonderfully warming.]

Ego is not a thing I have known a woman to be cursed with. Buffy? Indeed, that doesn't sound a name for a queen. I'll gladly eat her food and taste her ale, though.

[Cautiously, Aragorn followed his new companion into the odd looking tavern - it was not like the taverns he usually visited.]

Yeah, well, welcome to the 21st century, though it's more common in men, trust me.

_{[He led him in, glad for the warmth of the bar and lead them to a booth, sliding in and grabbing a menu and showing it to Aragorn.]}

Order what you want from that. Burgers are always nice to wash down a beer with.

[The inside of the bar was even less like the taverns Aragorn knew, but he followed Kirk and slid into the booth opposite, accepting the item offered to him, which appeared to be a list of the foods available. The list was extensive and entirely strange to him.]

I shall be guided by you, as this place is known to you. But what is a 'burger'?

_{[He stared at him like he had grown a second head.]}

Only the greatest food creation of all time. It's a beef patty between two slices of bread called a bun and you can put cheese on it and lettuce, tomatoes, onions, ketchup, mustard, pickles - anything. Add in some friends and it's your down home traditional sort of meal!

[The ranger couldn't help but smile at the other man's sudden excitement at describing the dish.]

I have never known any man become so enlivened at the thought of meat and bread with some vegetables and seasonings. If it's such a fine dish then I think I must try it. And a cup of small beer, if they have it - this place is strange enough, without a fog on my mind.

[He had left his stick outside, but Aragorn was ever watchful, shadowed eyes on every other in the bar, even while he spoke to Kirk.]

Will you order? I do not know the customs here.

No problem, bud.

_{[He gets up and heads over to the bar to say hello and place their orders for food and beer. He comes back without food, which was going to come out in a bit, but he did set down two glass pints.]}

I'm not sure what counted as 'small beer' so I got you a mead. I thought that might be close enough for you.

_{[He himself was drinking a darker brew, and sipped it with a smack of his lips.]}

The burgers will be out in a bit, they're cooking them now. I think you'll get a kick out of french fries too ~

[Aragorn mouthed the words 'french fries', testing the strange words, but did not ask the meaning - it was clear that he would learn many new things here, and if he queried every one he would have little time to do anything else.]

Small beer is not so strong, to keep you... out of your cups. I like strong drink as well as any other man, but would rather keep a clear head. I have not tasted mead since I was last in the Shire. [He took a sip of the amber coloured brew. It was much as he remembered: overly sweet but pleasant]

I have been on the road for months. A warm inn and cool cup are long wished for. Thank you.

No problem, just return the favor next time I get stuck out in the woods or something. It's happened more than once and it will again. I'm from a farm and the city, not woodsman.

_{{He shook his head sadly.]}

And yeah, I'd want a clear head too, trying to take all this in. Though, I dunno, fuzzying it up is always a nice option.

Though I have spent a fair passing time in cities, the wood is my more natural home. Perhaps we should find you a hunting horn, so that you may call me if you become lost.

[He smiles, only half serious]

I cannot recall the last time I had the freedom to get into my cups. There have long been too many worries upon me. Perhaps I should allow myself something stronger. A friend fell in battle this morning - I should toast his life.

_{[Kirk blinked, suddenly a bit somber.]}

Oh... I'm sorry. That... that's hard. I know it is.

_{[He raised his cup.]}

To your friend, may he rest in peace.

His name was Boromir. Though we often disagreed - on almost everything, in fact - he was my friend and brother. The bodies of his enemies were piled around him, the ground black with orc blood. He would gladly have died for his city and his people. He fell in defence of those who were not able to fight.

[The mead was sweet, though the memory was not. A moment later the cup was drained]

I think I might like that stronger drink now.

I think I can do that.

_{[He had not drained his own glass bottle, not yet, but he had taken a fair size swig in honor. He got up and came back with a glass bottle of a nice class beer, cap popped, and set it down in front of Ranger.]}

I wish I knew what to say to make you feel better, but as I know, there's nothing to really help with it, in these situations.

[He would not normally drink from a bottle, but Kirk did it and others seemed to also be doing so, so Aragorn put the bottle to his lips and took a swig.]

Ale? Has this inn nothing stronger? If I'm to give myself over to drunkenness it would better be done with spirits, or at least a good wine.

[A moment later a man appeared laden with two large plates of food and placed them down in front of them. Aragorn looked down at the pile of unfamiliar food and pulled the eating knife from his belt, trying to decide where to start. The rich smell or cooked meat suddenly made him realise how very hungry he was.]

I was among the Elves in Caras Galadhon last evening, but they have no fondness for roasted meat. This is quite the feast. Meat wrapped in bread - an unusual idea, though I think I can see the sense it: the meat can be picked up without scalding or dirtying the hand.

[He quickly sliced the burger in half with his sharp knife and lifted one half, pausing before bringing it to his lips to give the contents a cursory inspection. Meat, some salad leaves, the tomato that Samwise was so fond of. He could smell some sort of sweet, vinegary sauce, too. At the first bite Aragorn began to understand Kirk's enthusiasm for the dish, though the long time since his last taste of fresh meat might have made it taste better to him than it was.]

It's very good.

[Hunger took hold of him and in only three more bites the burger half was gone, hot, sticky juices running down Aragorn's fingers.]

Though not entirely... tidy.

(no subject)

universal_charm - 2013-02-09 05:24 (UTC) - Expand

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only