Drunkard -- The Quest Continues...

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Subject: Drunkard

Author:
Anawiel

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Date Posted: 21:10:51 05/28/02 Tue

The youth - for that was what she saw him as - before her reaked of ale. He stood, shaking slightly, against the wall.
"You're drunk." Anawiel stated the obvious, not wanting to be procrastinated for long. The night was already an inky blue sky.
"And what, m'lady, if I am? Will you care for me?" the young man replied. 'Cocky fool' she thought. She searched the edges of his mind for something, anything to be found with her dying power.
Names. He was Madjael and a warrior. Anawiel remebered him now from the battle. His mother was a servant. Mirwan? He had worked his way up from the deepest pit. He'd struggled against the king, against the hierarchy of prison life and against his heart which was layered in ice. Much like her own.
Of course he chose to conceal these things from other people around him. 'Quite sweet, really' she thought to herself.
"I will do no such thing. And please refrain from calling me your lady. I am no lady of your own or anyone else's in Middle-Earth." Her voice was cold and cutting, and her eyes bore into Madjael's. "Come with me Madjael." she added.
He started at the sound of his name and opened his mouth to inquire how she knew who he was but Anawiel silenced him with a dismisive wave.
"I'll take you back up to the city where I shall leave you. You will not follow me once I have bidden you good night and we shall talk again some other time." Anawiel slipped her slender arm through his musclular one and began to walk the alleyway.
"Who are you?" Madjael's voice seemed to gasp the words out. He looked confused. 'Obviously it is normally he leading a young one away.' Anawiel's mind stirred.
They had reached the inside of the city walls now. At a fork in the corridor, she dropped his arm.
"Good night sire." Anawiel said moving away swiftly.
"But wait!" a voice behind her cried, "Who are you?"
But Anawiel was already gone.

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