Another little bit...
Jan. 22nd, 2005 08:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dreamflowerJust a little bit before I go to work today. (Just awful...I have to throw a kid's birthday party, and then spend the afternoon playing with demoing polymer clay. *grin*)
Now on to Minas Tirith...
Menelcar looked puzzled at the change in Pippin’s demeanor, but before he could respond, Faramir said “One moment,” and cast a glance at the minstrel’s audience, staring rather avidly at them.
Putting a bit of steel into his voice, he said “Good folk, the minstrel’s show has ended. I suggest you all go on about your own business now.” He accompanied this with a small smile on his lips and a stony glare in his eyes.
There were folk in the crowd who were quickly minded that this was Denethor’s son, and however the King might rule, this was still the Steward.
Fairly quickly the watchers were dispersed.
Éowyn looked surprised. Faramir was constantly showing her new aspects to his personality. He was so gentle most of the time that she found herself forgetting he was a soldier and a captain, and used to command. She was pleased to see this side of him.
Faramir glanced down at Merry and Pippin. Merry was looking somewhat speculative himself now. “Perhaps we can find somewhere to sit, have a bit to eat and drink, and talk together.” One thing he had soon learned of his small friends was that any suggestion of food and drink would not be taken amiss. His errand could wait another day. Elessar had made it clear that anything to do with the pheriannath had top priority over everything else.
Merry nodded. “There’s a place called The Golden Cockerel just a street over from here.”
“Yes,” said Pippin shaken from his reverie. “Yes there is. They make a lovely chicken pie.”
Faramir chuckled. “So there is. And how do you know this?”
Merry grinned. “We’ve been in the City over a month now. Of course we know where the eating places are!”
“I should have realized,” said the Steward. “Master Menelcar, would you care to accompany us to The Golden Cockerel?”
It was not really a question, and the minstrel knew it. “I should be glad to do so, my lord,” he answered.
*************
And *now* where's that bunny off to...
Now on to Minas Tirith...
Menelcar looked puzzled at the change in Pippin’s demeanor, but before he could respond, Faramir said “One moment,” and cast a glance at the minstrel’s audience, staring rather avidly at them.
Putting a bit of steel into his voice, he said “Good folk, the minstrel’s show has ended. I suggest you all go on about your own business now.” He accompanied this with a small smile on his lips and a stony glare in his eyes.
There were folk in the crowd who were quickly minded that this was Denethor’s son, and however the King might rule, this was still the Steward.
Fairly quickly the watchers were dispersed.
Éowyn looked surprised. Faramir was constantly showing her new aspects to his personality. He was so gentle most of the time that she found herself forgetting he was a soldier and a captain, and used to command. She was pleased to see this side of him.
Faramir glanced down at Merry and Pippin. Merry was looking somewhat speculative himself now. “Perhaps we can find somewhere to sit, have a bit to eat and drink, and talk together.” One thing he had soon learned of his small friends was that any suggestion of food and drink would not be taken amiss. His errand could wait another day. Elessar had made it clear that anything to do with the pheriannath had top priority over everything else.
Merry nodded. “There’s a place called The Golden Cockerel just a street over from here.”
“Yes,” said Pippin shaken from his reverie. “Yes there is. They make a lovely chicken pie.”
Faramir chuckled. “So there is. And how do you know this?”
Merry grinned. “We’ve been in the City over a month now. Of course we know where the eating places are!”
“I should have realized,” said the Steward. “Master Menelcar, would you care to accompany us to The Golden Cockerel?”
It was not really a question, and the minstrel knew it. “I should be glad to do so, my lord,” he answered.
*************
And *now* where's that bunny off to...
