Barely had Cutch opened his mouth to offer a greeting, Teahesto pre-empted him. “Your wife is in the base of the tower, and she needs you.” His tone was low, serious, and demanded action instead of question. Having just stepped out of the manor, Teahesto held the unclosed door open for Cutch who nodded tersely and rushed in. The Captain closed the door behind the worried husband and was left in the quiet of the approaching evening. He looked down at the wooden box he held and was struck by the enormity of its contents; small stones, etched with mysterious runes whose meanings were closely held by their keepers, a very ancient Order, guardians over elemental powers perhaps too vast to fully contemplate.
Seregrian had just moments before bade him to take the stones away, before collapsing onto a bed in the bottom chamber of the tower. She had taken to that bed, stricken by sudden and violent movements of the unborn child, following an examination of the stones Teahesto was rushing away. Of a mind, all who engaged in or witnessed the examination concluded that the stones themselves were affecting mother and child, once disturbing conclusions were voiced about the history and recent uses of the stones.
The Captain knew the manor’s doorstep was hardly far enough away to have removed the stones and, determined that he should do so, came upon his dilemma; where? He looked away, down the wooded lane and across the quaintly bridged stream to his own bungalow.
The ornate little structure was more a workshop than a dwelling, being crowded with storage chests and workbenches, bookcases and racks of alchemy equipment, and a bed wedged in as if an afterthought. The yard had been given over to gardening, and where fruits and vegetables would not be grown, a forge had been erected. Perhaps the House’s craft shop would yield a safe and secret place to store the box, where it should remain until recalled, if ever, to the Bar-en-Acharn manor.
He scanned the yard quickly and discounted any nook or cranny that might be there; the box should not be exposed to weather or happenstance detection by passers-by.
Entering the bungalow, he studied both the first and then upper floor seeing many possible spaces to set the box, letting it be simply concealed as one of more than many objects, but rejected them all as well. The craft shop was used by many of the House and he would not have anyone stumble across what should stay hidden. He recalled the cleverly disguised location Seregrian had engineered into the tower for the box’s previous hiding place, but this cottage had no such secret feature, and Teahesto felt the need for an immediate solution.
Teahesto stepped outside, hoping his instincts might lead him to a solution his conscious thoughts had yet to revealed. Lumenire, having strolled from the manor, approached, saying, “You have the look of one perplexed, ellon.”
“I take it they’ve all made some decisions?”, he asked, punctuating the question by gently rattling the contents of the box.
“About the stones? Well, not beyond removing them from the vicinity. I think we all might agree that is the best solution.”
The Captain nodded his agreement. “Deciding where…that is the next problem.” He led her back inside the cottage and began brewing tea.
“Yes”, she agreed, sitting at a workbench. She idly fondled an awl and continued in a murmuring tone, “Where indeed? Where would be far enough?”
He turned briefly from his task, casting her a glance under an upturned brow. “Of course. We needn’t keep them close, just safe. Where might one safely store rogue rune stones?”
Lumenire leaned back, her gaze lifting thoughtfully to the ceiling, the awl now in her grasp as she rhythmically tapped its round wooden handle against an open palm. “Well…these days, the Order’s chamber which is most isolated from the children of Men would probably be Felegoth.”
Standing, Teahesto set the tea kettle on the workbench and retrieved a pair of earthy mugs from a nearby shelf. He poured and steeped the tea and as served it he asked. “Would the king be willing to house such things in his halls?”
She watched, over the rim of her mug, as he sat and she sipped. After a pause, she offered a slight shrug. “I’m not sure Thranduil would need to know. His trust for our Order is long and well-deserved, but it might be wise to inform him, as a gesture of respect.”
Nodding, the Captain said, “I am overdue returning to Felegoth, and as Seregrian has tasked me to deal with these stones, I must go. Would you attend as well?”
“My interests in the Wildwood are satisfied now, thanks to your help.” She smiled warmly at him. “It would be both an honor and a pleasure to ride with you there again, ellon. We have not done that since the Last Alliance, as I recall.”
They both nodded, each remembering what was supposed to be the great and final battle against Sauron. Their smiles dissolved into grim looks on hardened faces as war experiences were silently recalled. “At least”, he finally uttered, thankfully breaking the silence, “our destination this time is not so ominous.”
The foredawn light of the next day saw the two High Kindred begin the first leg of their journey to Felegoth, with the hope that each league would lessen the pall that a small box of stones would cast over an Immortal wife, her Mortal husband, and a daughter soon to be born.
