From The Ashes

29

The people within the city seemed to busy themselves then, with either aiding each other in training, or sharpening blades which had been supplied, and then of course carrying these weapons from one place to another. Naturally when a rider upon a dark horse came charging through the gates, the people had little to no choice in having to dive and step out of the way. "Let me through! Make way!" Came the exclaiming voice from underneath the wide brimmed hat. The horse charged onwards and up a little street before pausing and continuing on. As both horse and rider continued on, more and more people had to lean back in alcoves, or jump into nearby alleys to avoid being trampled on. Slowly though the horses pace lessened as it rode into a large town square.

Needless to say, when finally dismounting, Gandalf looked around himself with confused eyes. Golden armoured elves marched by him, as in the background sounds of training could be heard. He moved forwards through the people, still bemused and daunted by everything that surrounded him. "Mithrandir?!" A voice exclaimed from somewhere.

Gandalf looked up and around himself. Eventually though, he looked upwards, over a stone staircase that led to a lookout post, a familiar face peered over at him. Smiling widely, Alassëa looked very much the same as she had since the last time he saw her. Which really was many, many, many years ago. Way before all of this, and even before the quest for Erebor fast came about.

Alassëa wasted no time running down the stairs, still smiling happily. She stepped around the stone banister and looked to him. Gandalf smiled, suddenly feeling at ease with a familiar face around. She pushed her fiery hair over her shoulder while placing her hands in front of her and over her dark earthy green coloured tunic. It was clear that most of the change of clothes which had been supplied had come from the Woodland Realm. She stood wearing something which could be classed as simple elven wear. A tight sleeved tunic, with a high collar, it stopped about mid-thigh. Her trousers were of a similar earthy colour, fitted well and tucked into well worn boots. She seemed to assess him as he stood and did the same to her.

She looked at him worriedly when she spotted the dried blood on his face. She walked forwards and lifted a hand, she tentatively placed her hand against the injury and looked to him with worried honey coloured eyes. "Ma alwa nát?" Alassëa asked quietly.

"No, no, no! Oi, you! Pointy hat!" An all too familiar voice exclaimed from behind Gandalf, Alassëa groaned and stepped beside him as he turned around. The expression on his face turned rather blank as he looked to Alfrid. "Yes, you. We don't want no tramps, beggars, nor vagabonds around here. We've got enough trouble without the likes of you. Off you go. On your horse." Alfrid said while walking down the stairs as the two of them walked to meet him.

"Manners, Alfrid!" Alassëa exclaimed in annoyance as she narrowed her eyes at him. "Sorry...his social skills are little less to be desired." She looked to Gandalf with an apologetic look.

"Why you-"

"Anda lenda? Selman mana nát sinomë?" Alassëa decided to just flat out ignore Alfrid and speak in a language he did not understand, but one Gandalf knew all too well. He glanced down at her and sighed, she smiled tentatively. She could tell with that one look that he was not going to tell her anything, she couldn't help but try, right?

"Oi-!"

"Who's in charge here?" Gandalf decided to cut Alfrid off, made a change from Alassëa doing so. He looked away from the hunched over man to Alassëa as she sighed and nodded forwards. Gandalf looked slowly to the side and followed her gaze. He rolled his eyes down at her as a smile slowly crept on her face. She looked rather embarrassed and flustered over being caught out over her moment. Gandalf sighed and shook his head, even in the worst moments it seemed there was hope for good, and love to still appear.