The Yuletide Ball that Transcends Time and Space (Open)
Nov 22, 2017 20:27:07 GMT -5
Post by Wyn on Nov 22, 2017 20:27:07 GMT -5
"Yes, and I am glad we manage to escape that."
Wyn's attention may have mostly been on Nida at the moment, but at that, the girl's hand swept downwards to give the elf's hand a brief squeeze of reassurance. Whether it was to reassure him, or to reassure herself that he was in fact here with her and not bound serving alongside the other wraiths was anybody's guess. It still felt odd to have a travelling companion, let alone one that wasn't even human. And yet, after the trials they had endured, she was glad to have the elven warrior by her side.
“Though, Mordor leaves the bar rather low, does it not? I have no doubt there are wolves here with their fangs as well. Courts like this call them.”
She smirked, glancing at the well-dressed nobility around them, strutting about like barnyard fowl. This may have been an open invitation, but many of the partygoers were still Gondor elites, and likely miffed that their Steward had seen fit to open his doors to the peons. "Aye," she admitted with a wry grin, "though some of these wolves look more like lapdogs to me. I'll take haughty looks and honeyed words over cleavers and axes any day." When Nida teased her about practicing her Haradric, Wyn chuckled, giving an apologetic shrug. "I can remember your lessons well enough, but when there's nobody else around here who speaks it, it's hard to get much practice in. Same with what Black Speech I taught you, I imagine--Gondor has a distinct lack of uruk to practice on."
She sighed, relieved, as Nida confirmed that the other escaped slaves had made it to Gondor in one piece, although not without some trouble, it seemed. "Mishap?" she asked quizzically, wondering what had gone wrong with the barge. It couldn't have been too disastrous if everyone had managed to reach Gondor in spite of it, but she felt responsible nevertheless--she was the one who had arranged their transport, after all. That Barac was having trouble adjusting to city life didn't surprise her. In the short time she had spent with them, she had come to know that particular escapee as an incredibly nervous, fearful man--not that she blamed him after everything he had been through. "It's...odd, being in a busy place like a city without having to be on guard every second of every hour," she admitted. "I'm still not used to it. But they'll adjust given time."
As for why she had not been in Minas Tirith until now... "It's a long story, one I don't mind telling if you have the time, but to make it short: Adan and I, ah, raised a little ruckus in Mordor a few months back." she explained. "We made some very unpleasant bastards very angry, and decided it would be best if we stay away for a while. We ended up heading north, to Rohan." Had it not been for her promise to accompany Adan to Mirkwood, though, she might have already been on her way back to the black lands to continue being a small but stinging thorn in the side of the Necromancer's army.
ADANEDHEL
Amira
Wyn's attention may have mostly been on Nida at the moment, but at that, the girl's hand swept downwards to give the elf's hand a brief squeeze of reassurance. Whether it was to reassure him, or to reassure herself that he was in fact here with her and not bound serving alongside the other wraiths was anybody's guess. It still felt odd to have a travelling companion, let alone one that wasn't even human. And yet, after the trials they had endured, she was glad to have the elven warrior by her side.
“Though, Mordor leaves the bar rather low, does it not? I have no doubt there are wolves here with their fangs as well. Courts like this call them.”
She smirked, glancing at the well-dressed nobility around them, strutting about like barnyard fowl. This may have been an open invitation, but many of the partygoers were still Gondor elites, and likely miffed that their Steward had seen fit to open his doors to the peons. "Aye," she admitted with a wry grin, "though some of these wolves look more like lapdogs to me. I'll take haughty looks and honeyed words over cleavers and axes any day." When Nida teased her about practicing her Haradric, Wyn chuckled, giving an apologetic shrug. "I can remember your lessons well enough, but when there's nobody else around here who speaks it, it's hard to get much practice in. Same with what Black Speech I taught you, I imagine--Gondor has a distinct lack of uruk to practice on."
She sighed, relieved, as Nida confirmed that the other escaped slaves had made it to Gondor in one piece, although not without some trouble, it seemed. "Mishap?" she asked quizzically, wondering what had gone wrong with the barge. It couldn't have been too disastrous if everyone had managed to reach Gondor in spite of it, but she felt responsible nevertheless--she was the one who had arranged their transport, after all. That Barac was having trouble adjusting to city life didn't surprise her. In the short time she had spent with them, she had come to know that particular escapee as an incredibly nervous, fearful man--not that she blamed him after everything he had been through. "It's...odd, being in a busy place like a city without having to be on guard every second of every hour," she admitted. "I'm still not used to it. But they'll adjust given time."
As for why she had not been in Minas Tirith until now... "It's a long story, one I don't mind telling if you have the time, but to make it short: Adan and I, ah, raised a little ruckus in Mordor a few months back." she explained. "We made some very unpleasant bastards very angry, and decided it would be best if we stay away for a while. We ended up heading north, to Rohan." Had it not been for her promise to accompany Adan to Mirkwood, though, she might have already been on her way back to the black lands to continue being a small but stinging thorn in the side of the Necromancer's army.
ADANEDHEL
Amira