“Well, that was certainly different.”

notanightlight:

Another prompt finally done! This has a slight mention of something naughty I guess? As always, a better formatted version can be read right here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/3626280/chapters/17948872

“Well, that was certainly different,” Daegal said as he reentered the feast hall. His voice carried far enough over the din of the hall to reach his companions, despite the slight quaver to it.

He took a seat between Alden and Hammid, gratefully accepting a flag on of strong Rohirrim ale.

“What?” Hammid asked, thankfully waiting until Daegal had taken a long drink, “I thought you were going to go invite our esteemed guests to drink with us tonight.”

“You did find them, didn’t you?” Alden added.

Daegal nodded, roughly wiping away the foam still clinging to his mustache.

“Oh I found them,” he said, staring deeply into his flagon, “finding them wasn’t the problem.”

Alden gave him a sharp nudge in the side.

“Well?”

Daegal took another fortifying drink of ale before he could be cajoled into telling his tale.

“King Elessar was in discussions with Lord Éomer, King, so he could not be invited to join us,” he said.

“Not much different about that,” Hammid said, crossing his arms with a dismissive snort.

“I never said that was the different part!” Daegal replied indignantly.

“You implied it!” Hammid shot back.

“It’s background,” Daegal said, gesturing with his flagon, “It’s important to give the tale some context!”

“Just get on with the story!” Alden quickly cut in before Hammid could come up with another rejoinder.

“What story, now?” came a new voice.

Alden groaned, slumping in his seat and muttering to himself about no one ever being able to tell a straight story in this hall.

Orva ignored him, setting down the plate of roast pork she’d retrieved with a flourish before taking a seat herself. She raised an eyebrow in Daegal’s direction, snagging a piece for herself.

“Weren’t you going to supposed to be getting our guests?” she asked.

“I was just explaining that.”

“Poorly,” Hammid added.

“Just let him talk!” Alden begged, dropping his head into his hand.

Hammid made a ‘well, go ahead’ gesture with his hand.

“As I was just saying,” Daegal said, pausing to clear his throat. “Elessar was in conversation so I went to find Masters Elf and Dwarf, but they were also… busy…”

Daegal trailed off, quickly taking another deep drink of his ale.

“You tell terrible stories, mate,” Hammid grumbled, turning his full attention to the roast pork.

“Busy, how?” Orva prompted, as she licked her fingers clean.

Daegal sputtered over some words, growing red in the face as he searched for a right way to explain. Finally, he set his flagon aside, folding his hands in front of him.

“You have heard that Elves are also considered to be great riders,” he began.

Hammid groaned, but Alden reached over to give him a smack before he could begin complaining about the digression.

“But they do not always ride horses,” he continued.

“Mph!” Orva exclaimed, quickly swallowing her bite of food.

“Yes! I’ve heard that one of the Elvish kings rides a huge stag, with antlers wider than your arms can spread!”

“Not a stag, either,” Daegal muttered, turning even redder.

That earned him another sharp nudge in the side.

“Well?”

“Tonight I learned that our Master Elf is apparently quite skilled at riding a Dwarf.”

Alden stared at him, mouth agape in shock.

“Now that certainly is different!” Hammid admitted, clapping Daegal on the back.

Or a leaned forward with a grin.

“I like this story. Go on.”

End.