really, it’s either that or merely the fate of the travelling brother, because someone had to go !
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He knew the family would hate him for this. Rather, his brothers were busy doing their thing with their father – who may or may not end up going as well. Someone had to go to Rivendell. Lothie, his dear sister, was not at all pleased with the idea. She hounded him, trying to sway him, change his mind. It was such an honor, though. Be present at a Council in Lord Elrond’s house!? He could not pass such an opportunity up. Not in a million years! She was just too young to understand his travelling ways. Too young to understand that someone needed to be there. Even if he held little power, being third in line for a lovely princedom in southern Gondor. But perhaps it was a good thing he was going. He was, after all, the studious one in the family. It would, if nothing else, be an excellent opportunity for him to be a so-called ‘fly on the wall’ during discussions. It would be a learning experience, to be sure. Just thinking about being there was making him excited! He picked up the pace through the Green Hills of Gondor, well on his way to the foothills of the White Mountains. Going the western road was certainly better than the old road, in his mind. He would have gone slower had he known he had a stowaway. <p>
Amrothos ran a hand through his hair before looking between his horses. Plenty of supplies to get there. It had already been a day since he had left. It felt like longer, though. Used to traveling, he did not need to stop emergently for food and water. In fact, he had a water container strapped to his saddle that he had used a few times. The horses were so well-rested, they enjoyed only pausing a few times to graze. He would have loved to go to Edoras or even pass through the Lorien. Ro had several friends in several places. But, he chose this route to be what he considered the shortest. Other than the cost on his life of scaring himself when it came to boats. He was going to have to attempt rivers on his own – hopefully they were not running too high of late. Sticking to the western side of the Misty Mountains, that was his trail. For a moment, he wondered about riding along the mountains at their foothills, or if getting onto the Old South Road near the Gap of Rohan and making his way along the bridges to Bree would be good. Something to think about later. <p>
He rubbed his stomach as he rode, the trail felt longer than it was. Maybe he was starting to think too much. That last bend had jolted not only the cargo, but his stomach. How he wished for some left over lembas bread right about now. Taking a swig from his water, he thought he heard something. His blue eyes could barely see the foothills in the distant horizon. If he kept moving, he would make them by dusk and would take a break. But, the sudden noise had startled him. It was soft, muffled almost. Had an animal made its way into the luggage? Looking from Elroy – his dusty brown horse – to Undome (Elvish for evening), the pitch black pack horse – he sighed. What was that? So muffled, it wasn’t from the horses. ” Esta sinome*,”
he told the horses calmly, looking from one to the other as they slowed to a stop. The grass was thin here, but they both dropped their heads to munch on a few blades as he dismounted. Amrothos left his shoes attached to his saddle for the time being – loving to be barefoot. Elroy preferred it too, boots hurt his sides. <p>
Feeling the packs on Elroy, he shook his head. There was the hidden lembas bread! At least a couple of pieces of it. All he needed was a small bite here, a small bite there. It was always good to pack extra, in case you ran into a hungry new friend on the side of the trail. He didn’t expect to find his younger sister hiding away, though. But as he moved to Undome’s packs, he felt something strange in his pack of clothing. Not only was it more clothing than he remembered packing, but there was something more solid to the pack than should have been. A stowaway? A small sound passed his ears as he moved back to Elroy and drew his dagger. His sword remained on the horse in the scabbard. Moving to the other side of the pack slowly, he untied it with his left hand, his right holding the dagger threateningly. Until a mass of curly raven locks tumbled from the opening and Ro froze. The dagger pulled back, ready to strike, but his arm frozen in midair. What. the. hell!? His jaw dropped as he just stood there, blinking like an idiot. When did this happen!?<p>tag ;;
little lothie && open !
eight three four <br>location ;;
bypassing the old road, heading towards the white mountains
to avoid mordor <br>outfit ;;
see pic + long brown coat + brown pants + boots slung on the back of his saddle, riding barefoot<br>notes ;;
* = “rest here”</div>[/dohtml]