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The Mouseketeer's Challenge (Three Horses and an Ass TP)

Tags: Menelglir,  Sulgirion,  Ivrennin

Short Summary: Menelglir is not too thrilled about being called a 'plump mouse' by Sulgirion, and the squire promptly challenges the eagle to a duel while Ivrennin looks on in amusement.
Date (real-life): 2010-01-11
Scene Location: Front Yard, Imladris
Front Yard
A few trees stand here, just in front of the Last Homely House. An open meadow stretches off to the north and west. The seed heads of many grasses and flowers are visible all about, spreading the next year's generation of their kinds. Not far behind the house the trees close in to form a pleasant wood. Leaves of all sorts, from nearby and distant trees, lie on the ground here. The grasses are shorter than further out in the meadow, but many still carry seed heads. Two paths lead away from the house, one southwest and one north. Down the steep bank to the south is the shore of the Bruinen.

Obvious exits:
 North leads to Open Meadow - Crossroads.
 Front Porch leads to Front Porch.
 Southwest leads to The Valley Shore.

============== Lord of the Rings Calendar <in English> ==============
IC time is:    Mid Afternoon < About 4:05 PM >
IC day is:     Thursday
IC date is:    December 2
Moon phase:    First Quarter <HIDDEN>
Earendil:      Gil-Estel is not visible.
IC year is:    Third Age 3048
RL time:        Mon Jan 11 20:21:42 2010

The creeping fingers of oncoming winter drift from the sheltering mountain peaks and into the Valley, but no snow yet graces the sleeping grasses before Lord Elrond's House this afternoon. Something more than coldness is borne upon the wind today, and the distant form of the Northern Eagle sails fairly high in the blue heavens where the sun's warmth is greater. Sulgirion turns slow, in smooth circles above the front lawn as Anor's light embraces his form, flashing momentarily off curved talons.

The figure of an elf blends into the shadow cast by the shelter of the House's front porch. She sits on the steps, her face set in serenity, until movement catches her eye. The eagle she sees now, circling in the air; and she rises to welcome him.

"Mae govannen, eagle-friend," she calls.

Eagle? On the porch is a young man of 16 or 17 summers, dark haired and clad in a fine elven-made tunic of drak grey at the moment. His eyes are sea grey, too, but they are shut, as he sits, napping, in one of the cushioned chairs. Still, the elf's greeting gives Menelglir cause to crack open one eye, then the other. He sits up and looks up into the sky.

As the clear elven voice rings out, the avian drops his gaze, head cocking as he scans the ground below. "Well met, elf-maiden," caws Sulgirion as he espies the elleth seated down yonder. A quick tilt of his wings bears him lower, and soon he is gliding over the ground, speed still much too great from his sudden dive. But at the last moment, he flaps the massive feathered arms, and his claws plant lightly but firmly into the soil not far from the porch steps.

A soft laugh comes then, as the raptor looks toward the Gondorian nearby. "Forgive me, youngling," he says, "but I fear it seems I am interrupting yet another of your peaceful naps."

A smile appears on Ivrennin's face as she admires the eagle's noble visage and perfect landing. Walking further out into the yard, she pauses at Sulgirion's words. A quick glance backwards confirms what she heard, and her eyes widen slightly. "Another?" she asks.

Through his yawn that he can't quite manage to stifle, Menelglir protests. "But I was at the training grounds all morning!" he says to the eagle and then, standing now, bowing formally to the elleth. "M'lady. I am sorry to intrude. But the great breeze set about by this wind lord always seems to awaken me...at the last second."

The eagle nods at the boy's words, adding, "I gave him quite a scare the other day as I passed him by while he was resting in the meadow." Sulgirion fixes Ivrennin with his keen amber gaze, and it brightens though he does not laugh openly again.

"All day training?" he inquires to Menelglir, shifting the eyes to look back toward the shade of the porch. "Hard work deserves a nap, surely. Have the elves taught you much with their swordwork? Come, show me what you have learned." He tilts his head, and it is hard to tell whether the creature is serious or not.

Turning around fully, Ivrennin lets her eyes fall on the Gondorian. "Indeed, I have seen you training in the grounds," she says, rather pensively. Her lips now quirk upwards. "Perhaps you will sleep with an eye cracked open in future, then. But now you are awake. Will you display your skills, then?"

"Here? Now?" Menelglir gapes at raptor and elleth alike. "But...my sword...tis with the Steward and...I was not fighting a raptor," he admits to the eagle. "And it was but an hour or a bit longer, not the entire morning. But if you wish...I could fight you with a branch of a tree?" He grins at the very thought.

"No, that is all right, young squire," the great eagle shakes his gold-tipped head finally, and the beak clacks open and closed in a new chuckle. "I do not think a branch would last long against my talons. Of course," nods Sulgirion, "the choice is yours. I shall honor it if you wish to take a swing, but I would have to first fetch you your tree limb."

The avian looks back to the elf. "I hope he has not had too much of the Steward's baking. Perhaps all those cakes have tired him out. He at least looks a bit more..." he pauses, glancing back to Menelglir and then Ivrennin, "...plump."

That seems to do it. The young Squire frowns and moves decisively down the steps to the yard. "I am -not- Findon the F..." he starts to say, speaking of the other Squire that is here with the Gondorians--though he apparently thinks better of that line of thought and drops it. "I think, perhaps, that a match between man and eagle is due...in the training grounds. I will go there now to burn off some of the lethargy I apparently have from cake consumption. Meet me at your will," he finishes, the suggestion somewhat of a challenge to a duel, though there is good natured humor in the youth's grey eyes as he speaks it. "That is, unless you prefer your mice plump."

A grin, a bow to the elleth, and quick steps carry the boy across the front yard and toward the training grounds.

Ivrennin throws a side glance back to the eagle. "Well, that was certainly interesting. When will you go, if you will?"

For a moment, Sulgirion blinks, surprised of the reaction his comment has received; but then the eyes shine with the same amusement once more. "Very well, little mouse," calls Sulgirion to the departing figure of the Gondorian. "But do not fear...I am not particular, and shall gladly give attention to scrawnier mice as well! Two days, Master Menelglir, two days and I will expect you to be ready."

"In the meantime I shall see if I can persuade the baker to nudge some more temtping treats his way," says the avian to the elleth. "I do in fact like my snacks more filling," the eyes seem to grin. "He had best not be skin and bones after his practicing."

"Yet he may be more careful around such treats after today," replies Ivrennin practically. Still, her smile does not fade. "I look forward to watching the two of you. It will certainly be an unusual sight, one that is not to be missed. Especially if the tree branch idea follows you to the training grounds, instead of the usual metal weapons."

"Indeed," replies the eagle, "it will be as strange a sight as I gave when I tried to eat cake for the first time. As for a branch, I hope the boy decided to use his accustomed weaponry. The branch would surely break far too quickly, and besides there would be a greater danger of me harming his hand because of the splintering wood. A sword is a fairer match against these." Sulgirion inclines his head to his blackened claws that hug the earth beneath him.

"Forgive me, my friend," he says after a moment, and his gaze indicates the land to the north, "but I think I will take leave your of company, for this talk of cakes and mice has reminded me how hungry I am. One of the cooks mentioned he would roast one of the sheep in herbs and spices for me, and I shall see if I am not too late to accept his offer."

"I shall not keep you from a delicious feast, of course," says Ivrennin, inclining her head. "It has been a pleasure talking with you. We will see each other soon, I hope?"

"Yes, I can look forward to seeing you again upon the squire's sparing day," says the other, stepping forward so that his take off does not threaten to topple the elleth over. "Farewell for now, my friend!" he calls, ere turning and launching himself into the air with a mighty downstroke of his bronze wings. He performs a graceful circle overhead, and then sets his course north toward the distant pastures of the Valley.

Date added: 2010-01-15 16:07:04    Hits: 42
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