< Prev Alqualondë
Ossy Portocarrero
She had failed to return, promptly.
While his King was not present, she would be his duty. He had taken a meal where he was, from the travel rations in his pack. And had slept, for all intents and purposes with one eye open, against the very wall at which he stood. And she had not returned.
Brushing off the crumbs on his tunic he moved with a deadly silence, even in his armor, towards the low hanging deck of the palace's main level. With a thrust of his weight, into the air, he vaulted over the rail and landed silently on the balls of his feet before taking up a brisk pace around the island. His patrol led him around the dark and quiet houses, amongst a variety of topiary, and in a careful circumference to the market.
The guard stops in his tracks suddenly, eyebrows rising in the eternal darkness of Alqualonde. He dashes behind a large tree trunk and his face takes on a look of superior concentration. In the silence... yes, there it was. A sound, the sound of thunderous snoring. But it seemed too complex, as if underlaid by a nasal throttling beneath the loud rumble. It was coming from the tavern. With a few quick steps he was pressed against the exterior of the building, peering in through the pitch dark to see a misshapen lump on one of the seats along the perimeter of the interior. His eyes, adjusted to the gloom, soon spotted not one but TWO shapes, pressed together. It would be hard to discern if either was male from his place at a distance, since both figures had long attire and hair, but the snores were certainly un-ladylike.
Pressed as he was to the cool stone he seemed to consider what to do with this pair of unknown individuals. After a few moments he pushed away again just as silently as he had approached. Further examination of the nearby area led him to spot a number of tracks. They belonged to the heel of boots like those he himself was wearing, and they were somewhat fresh. Some of his own peers and brethren had visited these very parts. Standing, after examining the tracks, he peered towards the nearby tavern. Mayhaps these very guards were keeping an eye on these curious strangers.
He need not concern himself with them, in this case. They were already being watched, he could keep his mind on his duty for the time being. He moved along, further studying the town in more detail. As he rose up one particular rise, he could see across the top of the soft mountains the meditation peak across the way. There, safe, was the lady Fi and her strange and curious bird companion. He rose up on the perimeter wall of the small home he was by, and sitting upon that edge, watched her for the remainder of her visit there.
He had a clear view of the harbor and the majority of the island, including the tavern, from here. And so his vigil continued, yet still as silent as a statue he was, but always watching. Watching, for his King.