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[gondolin_noble]

The air is sweet in the clearing Glorfindel had been using as a campsite, and the birds are singing a bright morning chorus. Asfaloth, grazing peaceably nearby, nickers a greeting as Glorfindel leads Sunshine through the treebranch doorway he'd found by accident.

There is no sign of habitation, human or otherwise - Glorfindel could have dropped them on an empty planet.

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[gondolin_noble]

The signs of civilization become farther and fewer between as Asfaloth churns through the miles, alternating between a smooth canter and an unavoidably rougher trot (and Glorfindel only laughs a little, honest, at Sunshine's riding when Asfaloth slows). As lunchtime nears, he lets Asfaloth slow to an ambling walk and shifts to eye her over his shoulder.

"Would you care to walk for a time?"

[sunbaked_baker]

Her riding is... a sad thing. Horses have always been things standing or wandering in wide open pastures. She's only been near a horse a handful of times, and only ridden one twice before, each for a relatively short interval. Sunshine has her doubts about her ability to stand without wavering, at this point. Her rear is numb.

"I think I could manage it," she replies, wry. "Though it might not be in a straight line for a while."

[gondolin_noble]

He laughs at her, but not unkindly. She has actually been fairly uncomplaining, given the strain of the ride. Asfaloth slows to an ambling halt, and Glorfindel dismounts, then offers a hand to help her down.

"Walk, then, for a time - perhaps the feeling will return."

[sunbaked_baker]

"From your lips to the ears of all the listening gods," Sunshine says, wryly, as she gets down from the horse's back with his help. She stumbles just a bit as she lands - a tiny step and a moment of questionable balance - the ground was a bit further away than she'd anticipated. Rae could've sworn she felt every bit of the massive height at which she sat upon Asfaloth's back, but apparently even she had been getting used to it.

With something of a wince, Rae digs the knuckles of her fists into the small of her back. She doesn't voice the thought aloud, but it's likely clear that she's thinking about just how sore she's going to be tomorrow. And the day after tomorrow. And the day after that.

[gondolin_noble]

He chuckles, low (and perhaps in a fashion that fails to be reassuring), before reaching into the pack and pulling out a small silver flask, elaborately etched with flowing patterns. He pours a capful of a clear, odorless liqueur for her, and hands it over.
"Drink - I must introduce you to one of the humans' horses some day, you will think Asfaloth then as gentle as a cloud."

[sunbaked_baker]

"I don't suppose horses are susceptible to bribes?"

Sunshine is, no matter what world she's in, a food person. Of course she sniffs at the capful of liquid, curious. And made even more curious at there being no smell. It'd be her luck that it'd just be water, but she drinks, anyway.

[gondolin_noble]

"Miruvor - there are still stores of it, in Middle Earth, though not for much longer." He explains, "And Asfaloth will go to the ends of the world for a honeyed roll."

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine can feel the smile beginning even before she finishes swallowing. The liquid resonates, lifting the spirit and easing superficial tiredness.

"I'll likely owe him a whole tray of honeyed rolls for his patience, by the time I get anything like used to riding."

And she'll likely owe Glorfindel even more, for putting up with her on this strange roadtrip.

[gondolin_noble]

"I wouldn't let him know it." Glorfindel advises, taking back the cap and storing the flask again. "Else he begins to expect it."

Asfaloth snorts his offended dignity and lips Sunshine's hair.

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine laughs, patting the horse's withers lightly. She's seen others do similarly to horses, so she feels it's a safe enough gesture. "Don't worry," she tells Asfaloth, mock-seriously. "I can tell he just wants them all for himself."

She wouldn't leave anyone out.

...provided she had ingredients for rolls, a way of baking them, and honey, of course.

[gondolin_noble]

Seeing as Asfaloth fails to revert to his warhorse training at her patting, evidently she guessed correctly in horsey etiquette. Both of them, horse and master, seem a bit distracted by something further down the road, beyond the next turning.

A few minutes later, the creak of wooden wagon wheels can be heard.

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine hears the wagon much later than both elf and horse, of course.

"Must be rush-hour," she says, lightly. Part of the city-girl is still marveling about how few people they've seen.

[gondolin_noble]

"... Rush hour?" There are no ponds nearby, so he is left completely befuddled. Well, somewhat befuddled - he's still sharp enough to make sure he's between her and the cart.

Just in case.

The Dunadain have done a marvelous job policing the green road, but it is still wise to be safe.

[sunbaked_baker]

"It's what we call times when there's a lot of traffic on the roads, back home, usually in the early morning and late afternoon," she replies. Pure hyperbole, of course, though the difference is reminding her just how far away from home she is.

[gondolin_noble]

"When you must put rushes down to keep carts from becoming mired?" He asks, his expression clearing. The cart is close enough now to see the shaggy little horse pulling it, the man armed with a cudgel walking beside, with another holding the horse's traces. There's also a dull clanking, from the bell on the cow walking behind.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Rather, everyone is rushing about, trying to get somewhere," she says, watching the cart and its people nearing them. Yeah, there's a man with a cudgel, but there's also a cow. It doesn't look to her like they're looking for trouble, just... trying to get somewhere.

[gondolin_noble]

Glorfindel offers no defensive posturing as they near, but the cart pulls off the road sharply anyway, the armed man backing up against he wood of the cart.

The man is trembling. Both of them are. There's a storm of whispers from inside the covered portion of the cart, but no-one appears from inside.

Glorfindel, for his part, walks by without a word.

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine may blink in mild surprise at their reaction as the cart and its people pass - she can't help but think of the long walk back to town with Con, when people began crossing the street to keep from passing close to her muttering, stumbling, mud-and-blood-spattered figure more than to stay away from the vampire traveling with her - but she does do her best not to outright stare. In the back of her mind is a little voice wondering when she developed this habit of jiving with frightening people. She apparently does it by choice, too, which may be the more worrisome aspect.

"Huh," she remarks, once the people are well out of earshot.

[gondolin_noble]

Since he doesn't actually know what 'huh' might mean, he continues on, undisturbed. Glorfindel is used to odd reactions this side of the Misty Mountains - the natives of this land never became used to elves.

[sunbaked_baker]

"What was that about?" she asks, glancing at him as they walk. He hadn't seemed surprised by the reaction. Nor angry, offended, or... anything, really.

[gondolin_noble]

"Elves are the firstborn of Arda - my people remember the land before the sun, when all was lit by Elbereth's scattered stars. Once, the kingdom of the elves extended even here. It has been two ages of this world since that time, and except in some very special cases, the memory of elves has passed long ago into legend." He quirks a smile in her direction, which takes some of the boundless age out of his eyes. "I imagine it is frightening, to find one's fairytales walking under the sun."

[sunbaked_baker]

"I guess it would be," she admits, thinking about fairy tales and how close (or how far) they fall from reality, "if they forget those stories aren't just stories."

It makes her think about some of her friends at Milliways. They know about vampires and the various kinds of Others, but only as parts of stories. Their worlds don't have those kinds of dangers, and so the reality of it... kind of passes them by. Sunshine can't imagine what some of them would do, faced with meeting the Others from stories.

"I don't know if people would forget very easily, in my world. All our fairy tales are already out and about, and the stories that come with them are usually cautionary ones."

[gondolin_noble]

Glorfindel laughs.
"Remind me to tell you the tale of the Dunadain some time." He replies, "But come, we must ride again, the day is drawing on."

Asfaloth waits, steady as a rock, for her to climb on.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Remember," she says with a grin, trying to get up onto the horse's back without actually climbing on, "to tell me the tale of the Dunadain some time."

Telling stories on long trips is traditional, anyway. "I have the sneaking suspicion that there'll be plenty of time for it."

[gondolin_noble]

It's still fairly climb-y, but Asfaloth holds patiently as his master bids him. Glorfindel mounts in front of her again, and soon the lands are flying past once again, the light clip of Asfaloth's hooves keeping time with the merry jangling of the bells on his tack.

"Eärendur, son of Elendur, tenth king of Arnor. amd the heir of Isildur, the great Northern kingdom of the Dunadain, ruled the men of these lands with a fair and just hand. Though Arnor was still sundered from her Southern half, she prospered under good leadership. The capitol city, or at least her ruins, is not far from here - it is from whence I came, actually. At the time of his death, his three sons fought for control of the crown, and ultimately the kingdom was torn between them. The eldest, Amlaith, he who should have been king of Arnor, claimed the lands we ride through now as the kingdom of Arthedain."

Glorfindel in story-telling mode can cover quite a few miles - after all, he knew all of these people personally, once.