Dol Amroth, Pelargir, The Southern Fiefdoms (Free RP) - II

[Arnyn]

@Lantaelen

|
Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen| Hyandaner Kaylin
January - Estate of House Dimaethor, Lond Côl

Arnyn wanted to bite her lip (although she did not) when Gaer said Toggornir had been supposed to seek her out, and never had. After she had embarrassed him. Arnyn was about to apologize, but the young lady Dimaethor almost immediately added that maybe it had been better that way. That she and her best friend had been able to spend time with a handsome and polite man in a fox mask. That would make her laugh quietly, later - when she would look back at the conversation. So Gaer had enjoyed dancing and speaking with Trastion... and she did not seem at all that interested in Toggornir Talven. Rather, she seemed to view him as the man she would be getting stuck with.

The Lieutenant was in doubt, however. How much should she tell this young lady? How much... would be wise? Yet it seemed that she had already made her choice upon admitting that she believed she had met the younger Talven at the masquerade. Upon admitting that he had been the one on the receiving end of the airborn wine.

Perhaps this was the only way she had, to give the young lady any kind of warning about her current betrothed?

"Maybe... he had a bad evening," she began, trying to offer some nuance. "But to my ears, he spoke in a derogatory fashion about one of the other guests. And after knocking over his own glass, he made rather... arrogant... demands of the serving staff. Before insulting them." Arnyn looked apologetically at Gaer. "I do not mean to badmouth him. However, he seemed as if he had had a few drinks too many. Then he approached me and claimed I was to blame for his spill. And that I should replace his drink. That, or something about how a dance with me might be enough to satisfy him."

On Gaer's other side, Kaylin chuckled. "Oh you replaced his drink, alright."

"Myeah," Arnyn said, with a - still apologetic - half-smile.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

Anurion aka "Madhion", apparently
At the Sea Wall

Somehow, his answer had alarmed her somehow. Anurion frowned in confusion when she widened her eyes and looked shocked. What? What had he said wrong? Then, it was his turn to widen his eyes when she asked if his brother's name was Aearonor. "Yeah, it is. How.." He was about to finish his question when she cut him off with a question that almost seemed like an accusation. Why didn't he tell her? He looked puzzled. "You didn't ask." He pointed out, thinking that should have been obvious.

"What's wrong?" He asked, following after her in confusion. "Why are your parents going to be mad at you? What'd you do?" He couldn't understand what the big deal was. Why was she upset at him? It didn't even occur to him that she might be the girl his brother was being betrothed to, because she would be at the castle. Right? And he thought that his brother's betrothed was older than this girl, and she was a noble girl. Not the sort of girl who would be swimming in caves with seaweed in her hair.

"Who are you?" He had to ask, now. He hadn't really thought their identities were all that important before. And he hadn't really wanted to spoil the chance of a possible new friendship by mentioning that he was from nobility. That had happened before, and he didn't want to repeat that experience.

---

@Arella

Lord Brenior and Lady Aurien Eglathor
Dol Amroth, Eglathor home

"There she is." Aurien drew her husband's attention to the window, where she saw the woman approaching up the path. She wasn't so sure about this. The young woman coming up the path looked so... young. Aurien wasn't sure about this, but she said nothing as she and Brenior went into the entryway.

The nobleman opened the door with a smile to greet the prospective governess. "Hello. Please, come in." He invited, smiling welcomingly as he opened the door wide enough to let her in.

"Welcome." Lady Aurien smiled as she greeted the young woman. "I hope you didn't have any trouble finding our home. Please join us in the parlor. Would you like some tea?" She had very few opportunities to host, as they so rarely had any guests over, and so she had made sure to have tea and some small sandwiches and sweets on hand, ready to serve. Since they were less wealthy than several of the other families of nobility, and only among the minor 'lords' of the region, the only staff they kept was a maid who came every other day to clean up the house, and a healer's nurse who came by once a month to check in on Caeleb.

Adding a governess to their staff wouldn't be beyond their means, however, and Brenior felt it would be well worth it. Though, he was somewhat unsure now, seeing that she seemed so young, but looks can be deceiving. They wouldn't decide anything until they had interviewed her. And speaking of the interview, he decided to start with introductions once they were situated in the parlor. "I'm Brenior, and this is my wife, Aurien." He informed their guest, smiling. "What may we call you, miss?"

[Lantaelen]

@Arnyn

Lady Gaerlothriel Dimaethor
Mid-January, Estate of House Dimaethor, Lond Côl
Early in the Fourth Age

Arnyn’s supposition about giving Gaer a warning about her betrothal was correct. Maybe she should have been offended or insulted. Maybe she should have been more rejective of such talk. But when she heard the tale, concluded with Kaylin’s jesting remark, oh you replaced his drink, alright, she couldn’t help but giggle again, covering her mouth, cheeks absolutely pressed upwards. What a perfectly timed, hilarious comment!

It did pang her heart though. Toggornir, being rude to staff, to random guests, drinking way too much…Did her parents know, this dream match of theirs, was between her and such a rude boy? Would she become like that, just by association, whatever afflicted Toggornir’s mood this way then seeping into Gaer’s? Never mind that it completely conflicted with the excuse Toggornir gave her back in Minas Tirith, about feeling ill and missing the event. He was there. He had lied to her. Seems he gotten his just desserts.

”Sounds like he deserved it.” She said, agreeing with both women. She took a sip of her own cup, wondering if it would be rude or not to thank Arnyn for giving Gaer the chance to have met Sir Fox. She gave another dreamy sigh. ”Did you end up dancing much though? It was the first time I attended such a function without…oversight. I danced with many masqued strangers but the Fox boy was the best. Did you enjoy it there?” She inquired of them both.

”What was your costume like?” She asked as well, glancing at Arnyn’s hair a moment. ”Were you the one…in pink?” No, that had been someone else, but with equally blonde hued hair. Plum or the Butterfly.

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lady Azraindil
“Sea Walls”, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil

His brother’s name was Aearonor! And what did he mean, she didn’t ask? Gaer asked him at their first encounter, but he got distracted by…tunnels and caves, forcing her to call him Madhion. Mud-boy. If she had been capable, steam would have come gushing out her nostrils when she exhaled in frustration at her accusation she never asked. Oh, this rude boy…! Now she was in so much trouble. Did he not know?

She just huffed, grabbing a fistful of cloth at either side of her hips, to raise them up over her ankles so she could speed walk and march her way back home. Well, as fast as one could go over rocks and sand without stumbling. ”My name is Azraindil Dimaethor. And I’m supposed to get married to this strange boy today.” She informed him curtly. Not today obviously, but arrangement, promise, betrothals and weddings, these were all strange and foreign concepts to young Gaer.

But her angry at Madhion was nothing. Already forgotten. What was greater was her fear of her parent’s rebuke. In front of guests? Oh, they would. She needed to hurry back. She was already outside the cave and the bird still circled above but even fear of it was soon forgotten. After a moment of following the cliff walls, along the narrow path between the high ridges and the shoreline, towards the southward jutting promontory that cut off view of her home, she paused and turned back to Madhion.

”How’d you know where to find me? Are you a spy for your brother?” She inquired of him, brow furrowed in determination, looking him down and up. I’ll tell my own brother and he’s bigger than both of yours! ”Not a very good one. You’re going to come to my wedding like that?” She questioned him about his muddy garments. It was comical of her to ask. She almost went to the meeting with seaweed in her hair.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

Anurion aka "Madhion", apparently
At the Sea Wall

He watched in complete confusion as she huffed, gathered up her skirts, and started hurrying back along the cliff wall. Anurion followed behind her, puzzled, but also a little concerned by how she kept talking about how her parents were going to be so angry.

Then he stopped in astonishment when she declared her name. What!? But.. that couldn't be right. She was his age! And.. and she didn't seem to be all dull and caught up with talking about dresses and parties and.. and weddings?

Anurion blinked, staring at her. "What? Married?" He asked, shocked. "Aearon said that the marriage was not to happen for several more years!" He suddenly felt as if he might be about to lose his brother. Did Aearon know? He surely didn't. They'd both been lied to! Anurion was sure that must be it. Mother had told him it was only a dinner thing to talk about it, and instead, it was the real thing!

And suddenly he felt despair sink in, as he looked down at his muddy clothes. Azraindil, for he now knew that she was indeed about to become his sister-in-law, now began accusing him of being a spy. Anurion looked up with a frown, even as she went on to ask if he was going to the wedding covered in mud. Remembering the conversation with Aearon, on the boat, he felt a pang of remorse, mingled with anger. That Aearon had wanted him to be there, but thanks to Togg, he couldn't be.

"I am not a spy." He retorted, scowling as he folded his arms defensively. "I never even know your name, until you just told me," He pointed out, rolling his eyes. And why would Aearon even need a spy, he wondered? "Besides, it is not at all polite to spy on ladies." He added, inwardly fighting off another wave of disappointment. He had thought they'd begun to be friends, but obviously, he was wrong. Now she was throwing ridiculous accusations at him for no reason!

"Your wedding?" He huffed. "Do you think it's all about you? I intended to be there for my brother. He wanted me there, and I told him I would be. But then my stepbrother pushed me into the mud, and Mother sent me back to the boat to change. I'm not allowed to come to the castle to join my family until I have gotten cleaned up... but then he got there ahead of me, and threw all my clean clothes into the river so that I couldn't change!" He scowled and pressed his back against the cliff face, glaring down over his folded arms, at the water. "So, no. I'm not going to be there." He muttered sulkily. "You had best hurry, Lady Azraindil. You needn't wait for me, for I cannot go with you."

[Ercassie]

@lantaelen

Lady Ilisys Azrubêl with Lord Abrazimir Dimaethor
at her Uncle’s city House, in Dol Amroth. Six years ago - Flashback

If her heart fell when Abrazi said that he must depart in the next couple of days, it soared then when the lord mentioned his destination. And the assumed speed .. of a most fast and agile ship .. with the very real ability to arrive in Harlond .. in record time ..

“I knew that you would be the very person to ask,” Isys smiled, genuinely grateful to find that he might be the means of such convenience .. but still. She must still properly ask what she had not yet. There was every reason of good sense that he might refuse her, especially now considering all of the recreations that he cited .. he would be giving up in order to oblige. The options did seem perfectly intriguing … Although any shopping for snakes would likely see them end up as supper for her mother’s hawks. “And I am sure in equal measure that my Uncle might be persuaded to explore any and all such interesting diversions as you recommend may be found in the city,” she admitted the first hint of a true intention. “While I take a brief excursion to Harlond myself. Lord Eglathor has distractions enough of his own so I am sure that he could not wholly occupy my Uncle the entire meantime. And I really would rather reclaim the ‘Aracol’ from Minas Tirith before my Lord realises that our means of travelling back home has found itself somewhat already diverted from where it was docked.”


The dropping of the lady’s true concern in so idle and easy a fashion did not belay the significance that Abrazimir’s response would hold. The question then of course would be, how Ilisys intended to get to Harlond. For if her Uncle’s ship had gone on there without any of them aboard and she did not wish for her guardian to be made aware of that fact, nor of her wish to see it’s return covertly managed, then .. well, firstly, how had she come to be so informed ? Edhelmir would certainly be forced to grow an opinion on the cause, if he learned of the source. And who knew where that might lead ? Her mother, most assuredly would hear of it. The matriach would hear of her daughter’s informant, of her daughter’s .. appraiser …

The question though of retrieving the ‘Aracol’, which was indisputably the flagship of the Azrubel flotilla, not to mention all those souls aboard, was clearly as paramount a goal as keeping news of it’s ‘misplacing’ out of public scrutiny. Edhelmir had not even wanted to bring his late brother’s favourite ship to Dol Amroth. The current Lord of the estate far preferred the smaller and less ostentatious ‘Aragelo’. But he had been counselled nonetheless to make more of a bold presentation when in the city, and rightfully assume his role rather than shy away from notice. To be forced then to admit that he had lost the golden painted ship, would not only be a blow against his late brother’s memory, but also against his entire reputation. Which to be fair was not really winning any renown already. He was ‘nice’, folk said of him, all the time. He was kind and he was well-read and polite. But now .. now they would name him a pushover, an easy mark, a fool. Unless she could spare him, and anybody else learning there had ever been a ship ‘misplaced’ at all. Anybody else but Abrazimir that is. She trusted him.


“There is no fooling you, sir,” she squared honestly to her neighbour, her kinsman, once he had remarked that she was acting somewhat more clandestine than would typically be required. And if her countenance was grave, grey eyes flicked up with some minute degree of humour as she named him by title in turn. “But I likely could not sleep any wink at all this night before, if I had not made even this much move toward some resolution. And you might well require rest enough to properly consider my entreaty come the dawn,” she supposed. “For this endeavour does not make promise of further merrymaking or indeed of any greater mirth than your own errand,” she sighed. “Still my Uncle would question my embarking upon such a diverting excursion, unless I might sail with a trusted gentleman of our estate, as you stand. I would count it such a favour, since you are going in that direction regardless, if you might be willing to allow me passage ?" How had he phrased it ? Ah yes. "To partake, with you, about yours .."

[Arnyn]

@Lantaelen

|
Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen| Hyandaner Kaylin
January - Estate of House Dimaethor, Lond Côl

At least Gaer was laughing, instead of becoming upset with her. Considering that it might have been expected for Abrazimir's sister to react unfavourably to anyone claiming anything negative about her betrothed, Arnyn was already rethinking the decision - made just moments ago - to share as much as she had with Gaer. For what proof could she offer, really, that the young man she had treated to a brief wine fountain, was actually Toggornir Talven?

None. Arnyn could offer none. For the proof she did have, was to remain a secret.

So Arnyn was able to thank her lucky stars for the young lady Dimaethor's response. The laugh. The agreement that he deserved it. In fact, it felt like such a lucky social interaction, it was almost a novelty. These kinds of things usually ended up going wrong at least in one way, even if it went right in another.

Kaylin grinned at Gaer's words. "Fox boy," she repeated, with a chuckle. "How very entertaining." For she also knew who had been behind that particular mask. "Ohh, yes, I danced plenty," she reassured the young lady. "And I enjoyed it immensely. I danced mostly with my husband, once he found me." Kaylin pointed a thumb to the ranger beside her while she leaned in toward Gaer, to speak more quietly: "He's not the most talkative when we're not alone, but having people around doesn't stop him from dancing like the best of them." Kaylin's grin widened when Gaer asked Arnyn whether she'd been the Butterfly. "I was the lilac butterfly. They made really great wigs these days," she added, flipping some of her deep red hair back over her shoulder.

Arnyn smiled as well. "I danced more than I thought I would." Her brother, her friend, her trainee - even a stranger. Before that same friend had sort of... monopolized her time, she only now realized. She had let him, too. How long had it been that she had danced with him?
"I had a single dance with some gentlemen, including the Fox as well. He was very polite and definitely knew his way around the dance floor," she acknowledged. "I mostly danced with someone I had not expected to find there, however. An old friend."

Kaylin's grey blue eyes sparkled with mischief, but she managed to drown whatever comment might have sprung up into her wine.

If Arnyn noticed anything about that, she was not letting on. "I was dressed in dark blue. Like the night sky just before it gets darkest. And Kaylin here made sure I had wings."

Kaylin looked pretty pleased with herself. "Don't undersell it, Lieutenant," she said with an eye roll. "It was a lovely dark blue dress, and had golden details all over the skirt - like golden dust or tiny stars. And the wings were amazing. Very airy." Her amusement seemed boundless. "Our tough Lieutenant as a delicate fairy."

"Oh, stop," Arnyn chided Kaylin. "Besides, that isn't supposed to be common knowledge. Disguises, remember?"

Kaylin snorted. "She just doesn't want too many people realizing she threw wine at someone," she entrusted to Gaer, although Kaylin was now speaking quietly enough for only Gaer and Arnyn to overhear. "Nor does she want anyone to realize she spent hours in the arms of one specific fellow, I bet?"

The Lieutenant rolled her eyes at that. "Just because that's what you did, it doesn't mean every woman becomes romantically involved with a man in the span of two or three dances," she threw back casually.

Kaylin raised her drink at both Arnyn and Gaer. "Hear, hear," she said. "And cheers." After which she downed the rest of her glass of wine.

Arnyn shook her head a little, but she was smiling. "And how were you dressed, Lady Gaer?" she returned the question, even though she already knew the answer.

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lady Azraindil
“Sea Walls”, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil

Married, now, tomorrow, in a couple of years, a decade even, it was all the same to Gaer. The death of youth. And fun. And innocence. And freedom and exploration and all the good things in the world. Dreams and imagination. All these terrible things, that she put in her own head, and influenced by very little real evidence or factual basis. Yes, that. That thing.

She might be exaggerating but it felt like that to her. And it scared her. Tremendously. She didn’t mean to accuse Madhion of being a spy but Gaer was not exactly a well-aware individual at her young age. Looked where she was, on such a momentous occasion. Not even in the house. She didn’t even tell anyone where she went. But she at least hummed in acknowledgement when Madhion said it was impolite to spy on ladies. That was the closest he would get as an apology from her! She was having an episode and not thinking straight. Afraid and anxious and so many other things.

And…well, he was a good boy. It was not all about Gaer. Certainly would be worse for her, she could argue, but she didn’t. Madhion’s tale of being bullied and his clothes thrown out certainly drove home the young boy’s point. Not all about her. What about him and the trials he went through? She frowned sympathetically at him, as he leaned against the cliff wall, with his adorable pout and crossing his arms. He couldn’t go with her. But…remembering the cave, and the battle, how could she go without him?

”I’m sorry.” Gaer said meekly and stepped over to him, putting her little hands on his elbow, as if to pry him away and to come with her. She wanted to, but didn’t, not unless he would come willingly. ”It’s been a day, and you did nothing wrong, and in fact…you did everything right. You have to come with me though. You’re my Ranger, remember?” She said, eyes so wide and bright as now they began to tug, weakly, at his arm. The biggest puppy dog eyes she could muster. And there was some sincerity in them. A lot of it.

”Please, come? Who says you’re not allowed? If it’s my wedding then I say you’re allowed. We can find you new clothes.” Gaer pressed him verbally, not knowing how that might manifest but…it was a castle, there was bound to be clean clothes somewhere, right? ”After what you did, for me and the clams, you should be allowed to the wedding. I insist.” She demanded gently, refusing to let go. Especially as the circling bird above cried out again. But Gaer paid it no mind. There was bigger fish to catch.

”You haven’t even told me your name, Ranger. Your real name.”

[Lantaelen]

@Arnyn

Lady Gaerlothriel Dimaethor
Mid-January, Estate of House Dimaethor, Lond Côl
Early in the Fourth Age

It felt like Kaylin knew something about Fox boy that Gaer did not, though she might just be imagining more context to her tone than was present. Fox boy, it was a funny alias to start with, for an event that had many such nicknames and false monikers. She listened to both women agree to having many such wonderful dances, Kaylin with her husband (who played the same game as Gaer and Toggornir and were at least successful about it), Arnyn with many individuals it seemed. Kaylin had been dressed as a lilac butterfly. Arnyn in dark blue, with wings apparently.

She leaned forward to take a glance at the Ranger beside Kaylin. That was her husband? And they both got to serve and fight together? Astonishing! ”I remember seeing that – you. It was a very beautiful outfit.” Gaer pointed out, agreeing with Kaylin for Arnyn not to sell her costume short. She wanted to bug Arnyn too about Sir Fox a bit but that might make it obvious she had a crush on the masqued gentleman, that she would probably never see again. Kaylin’s husband seemed very idealized for Gaer. Like a quiet, gentle giant of a man.

”A fairy can be tough. Those two things are not mutually exclusive.” Gaer argued as well in tandem with Kaylin, now being Arnyn’s turn to be a little shy. She giggled at Arnyn’s playful rebuke. And at the mention of everything supposed to be secret, Gaer made a gesture of locking her lips and throwing away the key. ”I won’t tell anyone, not even him.” She grinned, nodding towards her brother. A very solemn promise!

The next two statements had Gaer going quiet, eyes and gaze flickering between the two as they continued to trade barbs, as old friends often did. Throwing a drink on someone… and …becoming romantically involved with a man in the span of two or three dances. Gaer could have sworn that statement was about her. He had just been…so dreamy and perfect.

Seeing Kaylin down her drink had Gaer rising, ready to fetch another flagon to fill up all of their cups. Hers, Kaylin, Arnyn’s. It definitely loosened the tongue and she wanted these two veteran, formidable women to keep talking. As she stood and poured each, she answered the query about her own costume. ”I wore a dress of gold fabric, and a gold masque, with the feather of an exotic bird – a peahen – attached to the side.” She explained, as she finished pouring the wine and did a quick look around to see if any other required a top-up. It didn’t appear so, so she sat back down between the women.

”The feather comes from some bird deep down in Harad. My father acquired it from one of the merchants who came through. It was supposed to be a clue to my betrothed to find me.” She explained casually about the reasoning, sipping on her wine, which was giving her a permanent blush in her cheeks. She wasn’t much of a drinker, not like her brother, and a few sips was enough to get her tipsy around the edges. At least though she was aware of when the effect was upon her. That was a good sign of maturity and modesty.

But still, speaking of gorgeous costumes… ”There was this one lady, she was dressed in red, and her outfit was…very forward. I’d love to get fashion tips from her. Snoop in her closet even. Do you know who I’m talking about?” She inquired of each woman on her left and right, who seemed remarkable women themselves, must surely know all the remarkable women of Minas Tirith and Gondor.

[Lantaelen]

@ercassie

Lord Abrazimir Dimaethor
Dol Amroth, six years ago – Flashback

There was something very fulfilling when receiving the praise and confidence of so formidable a knight as Isys. Abrazimir knew her to be in the forefront of some schemes against the Enemy and truthfully…he always wanted to be a part of that. To hear she was right to put some trust in him made him beam and sit up a little taller, if that were possible. Like a dog invited along for a walk. He was ready, even if she would not sate his curiosity on the whys. But he wouldn’t stay in the dark for long as she regaled him with answers, in her usual musing manner of speech.

A distraction. For her Uncle, the new Lord of Azrubêl, and that realization had Abrazimir piquing his eyebrows up. Because while his own father regarded his colleague across the water as soft and gentle, which among knights might be regarded as derogatory remarks, even Abrazimir was not readily keen to cross a Lord. Isys though seemed to want to head up the same way to reclaim a vessel of hers, the Aracol. A good ship, one that might be better utilized in the hands of someone decisive like Isys, and not in the hands of an idler like her Uncle. Great, now I’m thinking like father. He mentally apologized to Isys’ Uncle.

So she needed him as cover. Not very…prestigious, or fun, but compared to some of the schemes they ran before, it ought to be…safe, right? A simple voyage to Minas Tirith would be his part. She had intentions for the Aracol that did not seem to have official sanction. In essence…she would be stealing it. And he would be culpable and party to that conspiracy. He could get in a lot of trouble even if he pled ignorance. What, you let a girl tell you what to do, get you into trouble, and not even stop to ponder the consequences? Well, Abrazimir was pondering the consequences, and he did not even need a full night’s rest to come to a conclusion.

He had already decided he was going to do it.

He raised his cup of wine from his lap and sipped on it. Deeply. Lips stained with the crimson liquid, he then smiled at her. It may as well be a blood oath. ”I would surely not want to be the cause for a Lady’s restless slumber.” He jested at first. ”Trusted gentleman of our estate, huh. This might be the last occasion I carry that reputation, if these intentions ever come out, tomorrow or next week or next year even. It was a good tilt, I suppose.” He said and raised his empty goblet in a potential farewell toast to that. He spoke very confidently though, which should signal his answer even before he gave it.

”As I said, earliest we can depart is in two days, but if it aids your cause, we can slip out during the night…say, tomorrow? I know enough of the Dol Amroth harbour to navigate us without dashing against coastline or rocks and we can be ‘round the Methrast promontory and near Linhir by dawn. Another day of sailing up the Anduin to our destination. We’ll…skip Pelargir, for obvious reasons.” Abrazimir pondered aloud to her, dipping his head back to stare at the ceiling, but he wasn’t really seeing the ceiling. He was far off in his mind, making calculations and weighing up courses and options, to a varied rubric known to his thoughts alone. His fingers danced slightly in his lap, as if he was recording and writing it down like some schoolboy.

It could work. His head dipped down and he resumed looking at Isys, now very serious and determined. ”I cannot guarantee secrecy for long amongst my crew though, to have a guest like you aboard. You’re not exactly covert or inconspicuous, Isys, being a former champion and daughter of a most famous man from back home. But I do not think my people will come around your Uncle’s or Lord Eglathor’s people, to spill the milk, so to speak.” He concluded, hoping that wouldn’t be an issue for her.

[Pele Alarion]

@Rillewen , @Melahny_oftheWoods
Hadassa
Wyndhorne Pass - late September

Hadassa did not say much on Xyler's hopes of finding any news of his mother for she was not sure if that was possible with so little information - though possibly there was always some hope. At any rate, she made sure to remember her name just in case she would come by it at some point.

"Ah, I don't think we'll get down the mountains so soon," she did comment when he asked if they were on the other side already. She glanced at Melahny wondering if the other woman had more knowledge of this pass. "It's all mountains as far as eye can see. Yet. And I think we should start looking for a sheltered spot to set up our camp soon so we are more or less comfortable when the dark sets in."

She cast a look around the surroundings looking for something like a small cave in the nearby rock walls that could protected them from wind and possible rain. There were not enough trees to construct a quick lean-to which would also otherwise be a good option. "Perhaps we can scramble up enough firewood for a small camp fire at least," she observed out loud as continuation to her quiet thoughts of a lean-to.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

Anurion aka "Madhion", apparently
At the Sea Wall

Anurion glanced up when she said 'I'm sorry'. "It isn't your fault," He acknowledged. No. It was Togg's. He wanted to rant about it a lot more, but he thought it might not be welcome. Or proper. Instead, he tilted his head in curiosity when she said he has to come with her. Then he smiled, when she went on to say, 'you're my ranger, remember?'

"My mother says so." He explained, before pausing after hearing her mention the idea of finding him new clothes. Really? Would she do that? Could she? "Well... she only said I couldn't come to the castle until I was cleaned up," He recalled, thinking about whether this could work out. He stood up again. At least, having had his legs down in the water, the mud there had mostly washed away. Only problem was, now his lower half was soaking wet.

He glanced up at the circling bird with narrowed eyes. "The dragons are out for vengeance." He joked. "Perhaps I should stay and guard the clams."

But she was insisting. He must be there. He looked back down from the sky, and looked at the girl who was to be his brother's wife, soon. "That's very kind of you, my lady." He declared, attempting a proper bow, before quickly realizing that was likely to send him falling over into the sea.

He pressed his back to the wall, instead, even as she pointed out that he hadn't shared his real name. He blinked in surprise at that realization. "Oh... right. My apologies. I'm Anurion. Taurhebor, that is." He smiled. "Aearonor is my elder brother." He hesitated, deciding not to mention that he had thought she was supposed to be the same age as Aearon. "Are you sure you could find some clothes to fit me? I really didn't want to have to miss such a big, important day for my brother." He added, a bit worried that it might turn out that there was nothing suitable to fit him, and he would be disappointed yet again.

[Arnyn]

@Lantaelen

|
Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen| Hyandaner Kaylin
January - Estate of House Dimaethor, Lond Côl

When Gaer filled her empty cup, which had only contained water so far, with wine, Arnyn noticed but did not comment. She was pretty much a lightweight when it came toalcohol, since she hardly ever partook, but simply because her cup had been filled with wine, that did not mean she had to drink it. Kaylin noticed, as well, and shot Arnyn a challenging, quick grin as she raised her own refilled cup to her lips for the first sip already. "Thank you, Lady Gaer," Kaylin said politely, and amused. Arnyn nodded her own thanks with a smile.

"You had more gold than I did," Arnyn remarked, sounding pleased with this. Despite all the jewelry her outfit - which Kaylin had picked out - had contained... it had been a relief to see she had not been overdressed. It was a relief, still. Clearly.

"I don't think I know what a peahen is," Kaylin said drily, yet happily, grinning broadly. "But I am assuming its feather is all kinds of fancy," she said graciously - and only barely managed to bite back a giggle. Whereas Arnyn was not drinking, Kaylin was perhaps a bit too excited about the upcoming weeks at sea. When Gaer mentioned a lady dressed in red, and noted her outfit had been 'forward', Kaylin scrunched up her nose. She glanced at Thûllir, on her other side, before leaning in toward the other two ladies again. "There was only one woman there in red, that I noticed," Kaylin replied, "and I would have preferred to have noticed her a little less," she admitted. "While Thûllir was looking for me, she approached him, and her outfit was not the only forward thing about her," the Hyandaner told the other two, clearly displeased. "I don't know who was behind the mask, however."

"Neither do I," Arnyn picked up on that thought. "I know what you mean about her dress, though. It was forward, but not... tasteless. Yet I doubt your father would be happy with you following any tips from her. Or is that rather the point?" Arnyn asked, checking to see whether Gaer had a rebellious streak in her, perhaps?
"I did speak with her, briefly," the Lieutenant continued. "Although it was not my favorite conversation of the evening. She had approached a friend of mine in a way no one looking on really appreciated." And once that friend had rejected the lady in red, the latter hadn't been very polite to Arnyn, either. Their ensuing one-on-one conversation had been better... but not exactly great.

"What?" Kaylin asked Arnyn, blinking. "Your friend in the Dragon mask?" she checked, for Kaylin remembered the way he'd been staring at the woman in red when she'd gone over to talk to him, and his comment about that very same lady...

Arnyn hummed her confirmation, putting the cup to her lips and only remembering it held wine when the pungent smell filled her nostrils. She lowered the cup again without really drinking from it. "Didn't she dance with your brother, after that?" Arnyn inquired of Gaer, slanting her head a little. She thought she remembered seeing that, at least... Abrazimir had been an easy man to pick out of the crowd.

Kaylin chuckled. "Actually, I almost danced with your brother," she told Gaer. "But he came up to two of us at the same time, and I suggested he dance with the other lady. Later the lady said something about him being somewhat over-the-top complimentary." Kaylin's eyes gleamed with delight. "In case you might find that interesting," she added, following up with a snicker.

[Lantaelen]

@Arnyn

Lady Gaerlothriel Dimaethor
Mid-January, Estate of House Dimaethor, Lond Côl
Early in the Fourth Age

”It’s rare, to Gondor at least.” She said about the peahen feather. It was still up in her room actually, in a jar with her quills and pens. Gaer thought to offer to go and get it to show but it felt…a childish thing to do. And she was seated with women.

Her compliments of the Lady in Red’s dress was not shared. Apparently she had been a little more forward than just her appearance. She had tried to flirt on Kaylin’s husband, which seemed the height of inappropriateness. And had approached a friend of Arnyn in an unappreciative way. Perhaps it could be excused as simply confusion and uncertainty with the masques and all. Or something more sinister. Maybe there was a reason such appearances were frowned on. It invited immoral action and behavior.

One step of rebellion might lead to another. Wanting to break free of her father’s stifling control was one thing but Gaer didn’t want to be…that, whatever the Lady in Red had been. She felt suddenly embarrassed for having brought it up. She sipped her wine hastily, tasting potent on her tongue, before nodding to the follow up question about her brother, who had danced with the Lady in Red. Her brother was usually so infallible. If he danced with her, Gaer thought Lady in Red must have been safe.

Then…what did her brother know? And not know? ”They danced.” She just acknowledged. It had been a couple of times too. Kaylin said she almost danced with Abrazimir too. Kaylin knew who he had been, but he did not know her in turn? Amusing. Apparently he had been over-the-top with his compliments. ”What? What do you mean?” Gaer had to inquire, indeed finding it very interesting. ”Why would he over the top with his compliments?” She did not understand this particular motivation.

She noticed that Kaylin was drinking, but Arnyn was hesitating, and she leaned forward a bit to notice she had accidentally given the blonde woman a drink she did not ask for! ”Oh, my apologies. You were drinking water.” Gaer said, rising to her feet. She had gotten too comfortable, and too lax in her duty, and had erred. She plucked Arnyn’s cup, and her own, and took it away to a side table, hurriedly returning with a fresh cup, and filling it with cool, refreshing water.

And she remained standing. ”I suppose I should make my rounds. I’m acting like a member of the party.” She giggled apologetically, holding the flagon of water, one hand below, another on the handle, in a formal posture. ”Thank you for the talk. I’ve learned a lot. I wish I had more time. You two must have so much fun, these adventures and tales and…trouble.” She said, though with a hint of deviousness. They endured troublemakers. They caused some of their own. To be so…liberated! Not a life for her though. Her life seemed to only spiral deeper into rigid and narrow pathways, as determined by others.

”Maybe I will see you two in Minas Tirith this year when I am apprenticing at the Houses of Healing.” She said as a way of a parting comment, before she would continue to make her rounds about the table, not wanting to be seen playing favourites with two particular guests.

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lady Azraindil
“Sea Walls”, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil

She was getting ahead of herself now. Too excited. My mother says so. ”I’ll talk to her.” She beamed with confidence. Well…she only said I couldn’t come to the castle until I was cleaned up. And indeed, he looked worse, half soaked in water in addition to the mud stains. Azraindil was too, the bottom half of her skirts soaked and stained. And sand coating her boots all around. And her hair a mess. ”You can wait just outside until we clean you, then you come in.” She assured him. Not sure how it would come about but she’d find a way. Improvise. Her brother must have some old clothes from his boyhood years that she could sneak and steal.

But a pout did return when Madhion joked about staying back for the clams. They would be safe in the cave and water! It’s only when the tide dragged them out, at dawn, and potentially washed them back on shore during the morning, when they were in danger. But thankfully she didn’t have to explain that.

He was still worried about his outfit but he was eager to be there for his brother. Madhion, who’s real name was… ”Anurion Taurhebor.” Azraindil repeated slowly, savouring the syllables of the first and last name. ”Have faith.” She continued in elvish and began to pry him away from the wall, to walk with her over the stones and sands along the southward promontory, round about it and back northeasterly towards the estate. ”We will find something for the brave Ranger. I might need you to protect me during the meeting.” She said jokingly. Especially with this so-called mean stepbrother…

It was fifty or so paces from the southward facing entrance of the cove to the tip of the promontory that jutted out from the Sea Walls. They were close to rounding about it. ”I can’t wait to meet your sister though! My mom says she’s so adorable. These…big, cute eyes and everything.” Azraindil chuckled, finding babies, toddlers, the youngest of children, to be so lovely. Orelnith had been filling her head with fantasies of Azraindil and little Dulinneth of being great friends and companions, and future sisters. Azraindil never had a baby sister.

”And your brother, what is he really like-“ she began to ask, as they rounded the promontory and could see east along the Sea Walls right back to the estate boundaries. And the Dimarthor keep as a smudge in the distance. But, she paused, and gasped, and Anurion would not get to answer that query. As there was a small boat coming towards them, rounding the promontory same time as them…

---

Lady Zorzimril & Lord Abrazimir
“Sea-Walls”, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil

They were searching on an agile and swift gondola. Abrazimir at the rear, with a great paddle, steering and speeding them along. Zorzimril at the front, one hand atop a beam that sprouted up from the bow. Despite the swaying and tilt of the gondola, she was as sturdy and unmoving as a statue in a storm. Wind whipped at her clothes, blowing them around her. Her legs were anchored perfectly. She was unmoving, the sun shining behind her form.

She saw the two children emerged and hard, piercing eyes fixed upon them immediately, her head turning a bit slower to finish the pointed glare.

This was the sight that Azraindil saw coming around the promontory, a very short distance out to sea. She gasped and her heart sank, as Abrazimir directed the gondola towards the shoreline near the pair. The boat rocked on the shallow waters. Zorzimril remained unaffected, regal and proud.

Azraindil gasped and went very still next to Anurion…

Seconds seemed to tick by. The sea-gull cried overhead, ignored and forgotten and harmless. Abrazimir steadied the boat with his large paddle in the water, dragging against the underwater sand and grit. Everyone was looking at each other. Azraindil was in such deep sh-

”Girl, bring your cloudy minded simple head into this boat.” Zorzimril snapped and Azraindil jumped in her skin, giving a sheepish look at Anurion, then grabbing the side of her skirts and lifting them up a little, very ladylike and demure, so she can traverse the little bit of shallow water to the edge of the boat. Abrazimir, the gentleman, hopped out to help his little sister into the boat, extending a hand to her.

But before Azraindil took it, she gestured back at Anurion, dropping one half of her skirt from above her calf back into the water to get soaked all over again. ”Can we give my friend a ride back too?” She asked, the question for Zorzimril, the eldest and the boss, though she looked at Abrazimir, more kindly and generous.

Zorzimril looked critically at Anurion then. Who was this boy? He was all muddy and dirty – and the first thought in her head was…did Azraindil do that to him? Strangely. But after a brief look, Zorzimril jerked her head in the direction of the gondola. Come on she invited Anurion.

With that settled, Abrazimir helped Azraindil into the boat, then Anurion if he needed a hand. Abrazimir looked at him critically as well, but not in judgement like his oldest sister. He knew the boy, from somewhere. Once everyone was back in the gondola, he got in as well and started to steer them back around. ”Hey, you’re the other one,” he started to point out, smiling so confidently…incorrect. ”Toggornir.” He guessed thoughtfully. Because the two boys back at the estate with their parents and sisters must be the Taurhebor boys and this odd one out must be the stepbrother…right?

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

Anurion aka "Madhion", apparently
At the Sea Wall

Anurion considered her offer, wondering how it was going to work to wait outside until he got clean, and then come inside. Was there a place outside for washing up? He decided not to overthink it, and smiled. If he hadn't been balanced on the narrow ledge, he would have given her a proper bow. "Thank you, your offer is most kind, my lady. Queen of the Clams." He added the last bit with a little grin, unable to resist adding that.

He laughed a little at the suggestion that he protect her during the meeting. "You have nothing to fear from my brother, my lady." He promised, amused because only a few hours ago, he had been telling Aearonor that he had nothing to fear from her. "My brother is very nice. I promise." He smiled reassuringly. He had to wonder though, if she was going to start calling him the brave ranger in front of his family. He followed along with her. "Uh, that ranger thing, by the way," He mentioned, a little awkward. "Let's keep that between us. Please?" he asked hopefully. "It's just, my mother has her heart set on me becoming a knight..." He mentioned, not wanting to stir up trouble with his mother by letting her hear anything about that.

Next, she was going on about his little sister. Anurion smiled. "She is adorable." He agreed. "And she's eager to meet you, I think. She keeps talking all excitedly about how she's going to have a sister." He shrugged, unsure how the girl might take that sort of thing.

He was a little surprised when she asked him what his brother was like. "Well..." He paused, but before he could answer the question, they rounded the bend, and to his surprise, there were... was that her parents? Or, more likely, her governess or something, he reasoned a second later. Except that the lady in the boat looked very... fancy. Her dress was exquisite, she was adorned in jewels, and she had the look of a stern and proud lady. Not a governess. But he remembered, belatedly, that his mother and her mother were friends, and about the same age. And this lady didn't look old enough to be his mother's age. As for the man, he realized at a second glance that he had seen him before. He'd been in jousting competitions!

But then he heard Uilneth - or rather, Azraindil - gasp, and he noticed that she looked frightened. He frowned, stepping closer so he could whisper quietly enough that only she could hear, "Shall I protect you from the evil witch?" Hopefully, that would give her a laugh and take away some of her fright. But just about that time, the 'witch' spoke sharply to her and made her jump. Anurion frowned slightly, but at least the man got out to help her.

Then she asked about giving him a ride back. He met the stern-looking woman's hard gaze, his chin held up, as proud as if he did not have mud all over his fine clothes. Almost defiantly, but not quite that. The lady agreed with a jerk of her head. Anurion was a little surprised, but not in a bad way. He waited until the young lady had been aided into the boat, and then was surprised when the kind knight offered aid to him as well. "Thank you."

Once he was seated, Anurion was stunned to hear the mistaken man call him Toggornir. He blinked and stared for a couple of seconds. Deep breath, he told himself, remembering how Aearon told him to keep himself calm when he got angry. He doesn't know us. By some miracle, Anurion managed not to snap 'No, I am NOT!' and instead shook his head. "No sir, I'm Anurion." He corrected him, somehow keeping a civil tone. It wasn't his fault; he didn't know them well enough to know their names, probably. His hands gripped the edge of the boat's seat, however, channeling his anger into that activity. If squeezing the plank with a death grip in each hand could be called an 'activity'.

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lady Zorzimril, Lord Abrazimir & Lady Azraindil
“Sea Walls”, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil

Queen of the Clams. He was so good to her. She hoped his brother was just as chivalrous and gentle as he was. Azraindil nodded to keeping his Ranger ambitions a secret for now. Knighthood seemed such a fuss, within her own family too. Hearing that the adorable little Dulinneth was eager to meet Azraindil was exciting enough, but to be called sister was elating. Azraindil always wanted someone closer to her in age. To have a little sister was even better. Her own two siblings were much older than her in years. Closer to her parents than to her it seemed.

But being caught by them now, given the seriousness of the day was too daunting for her to enjoy Anurion’s follow up joke. Of Zorimril being a witch that needed slaying or defending from. Azraindil didn’t even think such a person existed who could overcome her sister’s will. Not even her brave brother. Soon they were all helped into the ship, turning around to head back to the estate, with Abrazimir wrongly guessing Anurion’s identity.

Azraindil supported Anurion by giving Abrazimir a most critiquing look. No, he was not that rude boy who shoved her protector into the mud! Anurion had more tact though, as proven already, and corrected the Swan-Knight in the back. ”Ah, I see. My apologies. You do look like your brother Aearonor, now that I see you more closely.” Abrazimir said, taking his correction in good stride. Though he did look critically at Anurion a moment, mostly his clothes.

”Had a slip and fall, eh?” He questioned, though he looked at his little sister next. He was too cheery by far. Compared to his line of work, this encounter and scene was childsplay. So innocent when compared to fighting orcs and pirates. ”Or did you do that to him?” He inquired of Azraindil with a raised eyebrow.

Why does everyone think that about me? ”No!” Azraindil huffed, though she gave a fugitive glance at Zorzimril, who was facing away from them, thinking her tone might draw her big sister’s ire and own correction in turn. ”His brother – the stepbrother – did that. And threw away all his clothes so that he couldn’t come to the meeting.” And miss out on all the food and desserts and stuff.

It was a shocking tale. Zorzimril turned about too, giving Anurion a sympathetic look. That was a cruel thing to happen to Anurion, especially by this family’s standard. They might verbally lash each other but to do physical harm to person or property? Unthinkable. ”That is unbelievable. On the eve of an occasion like this?” Abrazimir said, shaking his head.

”So could you, maybe, help find him a change of clothes?” Azraindil asked meekly, like she expected to be refused and shouted down.

”Of course!” Abrazimir said, steering their boat back swiftly along the shoreline to the estate. ”I got you, little lord.” He said enthusiastically to Anurion. ”We’ll have you looking prim and proper-“

”As we must for you, you blockhead,” Zorzimril interrupted to talk to Azraindil, speaking solely in the Sindarin tongue, peering over her shoulder back at her little sister. ”What were you thinking, leaving the house before breakfast? Mother and Father are wroth like you would not believe. We better have you entering looking your best or no excuse will save you. That’s the only way we can justify a delay.” She explained to her little sister. But the silver lining was the use of the we pronoun. Zorzimril was going to help. Because she cared, in her way.

Azraindil just closed up on herself and stared at Anurion. His problem was solved. Hers… ”All you had do was exercise a little responsibility. Handle it first, then you can wander and…play…” Zorzimril said, though her hard tone dropped considerably. Abrazimir glanced at Anurion and gave a slight shake of his head. Girl things, don’t get involved in the mystery of how they function. ”You cannot just be all play like before. Things are different. The world is changing. And most of all for you.” She pointed out, though a flick of her sharp sea-grey eyes at Anurion included him in the warning too.

A deep silence followed for a moment, the seagull crying above the only sound that broke it, alongside the waves. But eventually Abrazimir was the one who spoke up again. ”What’s your favourite colour, little lord?” He asked curiously, changing the topic to how well and flash they should dress the visitor up. It was rude to try and not include the youngster from the banquet on account of dirty clothes. They were going to return him in a position of honour.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

Anurion aka "Madhion", apparently
In the boat, heading back toward Castle Dimaethor

Anurion gave a nod when Abrazimir offered his apologies, and stated that he could now see the resemblance. Right, that's better. He and Aearon looked just like their father. And they looked just like each other. Everyone said so. But, of course, he probably still had mud on his face, Anurion realized. He tried to be understanding of the fact that the guy did not know him or his brother, and that he probably couldn't see his face as well as usual.

He was hesitating on how to answer the question about how he'd ended up muddy, when Azraindil spoke up for him, to tell what had happened. Anurion tried not to cringe. As much as he wanted to vent and complain about his annoying stepbrother, he also knew that his mother wanted to present a unified front, and she would not be pleased if she thought he had been 'bad mouthing' his non-brother.

Anurion fidgeted slightly in his seat when even the stern woman turned and gave him a sympathetic look. He wondered whether he ought to mention the fact that they had actually ended up wrestling in a mud puddle... but before he had a chance to decide whether to bring the rest of the story up, Azraindil had moved on to asking whether they could help him.

He smiled in relief and gratitude at Abrazimir, for his assurance that he would help. "Thank you, sir." He said, though it was hard not to make a face at 'little lord'. He wasn't some little kid, like Dulinneth! He was twelve, nearly thirteen for goodness sake. He was practically a grown up! But he held in his protests, imagining his mother's stern look of disapproval if she heard that he'd talked back to a knight.

Anurion's attention was diverted toward the ladies then, as he couldn't help but overhear the scolding that Azraindil was getting. He still wasn't entirely sure who this lady was to her, but he was sort of getting 'governess' vibes, despite how fancy she was dressed. He hesitated for a little while, noting the shake of head from the other guy. But at a point, he couldn't help but speak up in her defense.

"Please, ma'am, don't be too hard on her. It wasn't entirely her fault." Anurion said. "She has been very kind and helped me in a most generous way, despite being in a hurry, herself." He informed the 'governess'. "You see, I was.. a bit lost," That was a bit of an exaggeration, "and... upset." He added with a somewhat downcast glance toward his clothes, to explain why. 'Upset' was an understatement. "But Lady Azraindil saw me wandering along the cliff there, and she was helping me find my way back to the castle," he explained. He'd noticed from past experience that it often helped when one is in trouble with grown-ups, to play up about how the kid showed some good quality that those raising them had been trying to encourage. Like being kind and generous, and putting others before yourself.

Then he ventured into the more exciting part of the story. "And we were assaulted by this great big drag-" he caught himself venturing a little too far into fiction, as he began to get a bit enthusiastic with his tale. "I mean, bird," he amended with a slightly sheepish smile. "That one, I think," he pointed up to the seagull that was still lurking about overhead. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at it before looking back at the two who had come for Azraindil. "We were forced to flee and take shelter from it!" He explained, widening his eyes a bit. "It was quite menacing, and wouldn't leave us alone. We couldn't get past it until it finally flew away, which is what kept us from returning sooner."

Hopefully, that would help things for her, anyway. He had tried to be careful not to tell any lies, while also not revealing any details about the cave or the clams or pearls, nor the reason why the seagull had attacked them. But he had usually found that grown-ups tended to get more sympathetic about stuff when there was some element of danger that wasn't the kid's fault. Like a crazy bird attacking them.

He gazed up at that vicious bird for a moment, but when Abrazimir asked him about his favorite color, Anurion brought his gaze back down to the man rowing the boat. "Green, sir." He answered with a little smile. "Like the trees." He added. That was the Taurhebor family's primary color, after all. Not to be mistaken with dark green, for the Talven family. "Also, thank you for to loan me some clothing." He added, realizing he didn't think he'd thanked him for that, yet.

[Arnyn]

@Lantaelen

|
Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen| Hyandaner Kaylin
January - Estate of House Dimaethor, Lond Côl

"I don't know," Kaylin answered Gaer. "Another lady told me he was a bit cheesy." She flashed Gaer a grin. "Probably shouldn't have mentioned that to you." She glanced at Arnyn. "Woops."

Arnyn shook her head with a smile she was trying to tamp down. At Gaer's apology, she tried to halt the young lady and tell her it was alright, that she was no longer thirsty - but Gaer was too swift. Soon enough, Arnyn had a new cup set before her, once again filled with water. The Lieutenant had a rather thoughtful smile for Gaerlothriel as the latter decided it was time to focus on her duties for the evening. "Thank you, as well," Arnyn told her - and there was more behind those words than Gaer would realize. She had gained some insights in the young woman who was supposed to be Anurion's betrothed. Interesting insights, to say the least. "I hope we will meet again.," she spoke truly.

Meanwhile, Kaylin raised her cup at Gaer with a little grin. "Bye bye. See you around, then." Once Gaer had stepped away, Kaylin leaned toward Arnyn. "You think dear dad would have a fit if I sought out little Gaer for some fun in the city, when she's there?" she asked Arnyn.

"Depends on the particular brand of fun you have in mind, I would say," Arnyn replied, unphased, as she sipped her water.

Kaylin's grin grew, and she rose to her feet with her casual feminine swagger. "Let's see how much the brother would mind, shall we?" she proposed, her blue-grey eyes shining with mischief as she left her chair behind, and made her way across the hall. Toward Abrazimir Dimaethor.

On the other side of the table, opposite the knight, Kaylin emphatically put down her cup of wine, before placing her palms flat down on the table to support herself. "Will the young Lord Dimaethor abase himself by playing a game with a lowly Hyandaner?" she asked him boldly, clearly not thinking any of those words to be true. "Surely, you're not one to back away from a challenge," she added coyly, before raising her eyebrows with curiosity.

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lady Zorzimril, Lord Abrazimir & Lady Azraindil
“Sea Walls”, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil

Well…it was nice knowing the little guy…

Anurion chose to speak up in defense of Azraindil, who looked up as she sat on a bench in front of them, hands in her lap, smiling at his kind words. Zorzimril…didn’t even turn around to acknowledge. Her back was to them, stiff as any plank, one hand on the raised prow of the gondola as she faced the shoreline and rapidly approaching Keep of House Dimaethor. What was her expression? Annoyed? Uncaring? Maybe a little…amused? She used to play silly games with the young men of Lond Côl in her time.

She didn’t say anything. Looks like the little guy got shown some mercy. Abrazimir though, at the rear of the gondola, able to face everyone, smiled and made appropriate comments and remarks here and there. Oh, Azraindil found Anurion wandering and lost. She gave him a helping hand. And then…a dragon? Abrazimir caught the unfinished word and quirked an eyebrow. These two both seemed to have an overactive imagination. But they meant a bird, the one following them, causing…both siblings, Abrazimir and Zorzimril, to glance up. Oh, so she was listening. Plenty of experience listening to Azraindil’s harebrained schemes and stories, no doubt.

”It tried to steal and eat a clam, away from it’s family. We came to help. Rescued it and everything from the bird’s terrible lair.” Azraindil added to Anurion’s tale, smiling across at him. ”And took it back. He fought off the bird. It almost bit us.”

”Oh no,” Abrazimir chuckled, shaking his head. ”I remember getting bit by a goose, when I was littler than you two were. Remember, Zorzi?” He asked his big sister, finally putting a name to the other figure.

No reply from Zorzimril though. Maybe she had other thoughts. Like how her little sister was being promised off and she was still so young and foolish and naïve about things. But…such was tradition and life for women of their status. Her own marriage was due in a couple of years, arranged when she was no older than Azraindil was now.

”Left a mark thissss big.”Abrazimir concluded, indicating a large path on his forearm, long since healed but back then it must have hurt like crazy. Over what and how…probably something imaginative like what they were doing.

”So green huh little lord?” Abrazimir turned the discussion back to Anurion’s choice of colour. He had some clothing from his younger days, about Anurion’s size now. Abrazimir would never be wearing that stuff again, unless he shrank considerably, so he had a few options for Anurion to pick from. The good outfits too, to wear to the Prince’s Court in Dol Amroth or something. ”I think we can accommodate you. No need to thank me yet. My style might make you look worse.” He joked at Anurion, giving him a playful wink.

And Azraindil covered her mouth and giggled. She looked at Anurion, none of the pressure or tension from the situation or her sister’s mood showing in her features. She was sincerely happy. He was fun. She could only hope his older brother was the same.

They were arriving to the Dimaethor docks now. Merchant ships of all sizes, fishing boats, cargo hulls, even a battleship or two, were parked along the quays. Abrazimir signaled to one of the port workers wearing Dimaethor livery and they waved back, before indicating a quay they could use. Abrazimir expertly maneuvered them in, Zorzimril unmoving as ever. ”Careful, lord.” He said to Anurion, laying the paddle down along the insides of the gondola, then hoping onto the quay with some rope.

”Give me a hand?” He requested Anurion’s help too, asking him to step out of the boat and help him control the slack of the rope as he tied it. The women got to wait, Zorzimril finally turning around and when the gondola was secured thanks to both Abrazimir and Anurion, they could help her up off the boat and onto the quay. And then Azraindil. ”Thank you,” Azraindil said to them both, though she looked at Anurion.

But…that would be it for now, as Zorzimril claimed her sister’s arm with a grab. ”Come along, there’s lots of work to do.” She said, dragging Azraindil away, who cast one parting glance over her shoulder as she was escorted away by the regal lady.

That left Abrazimir and Anurion behind, Abrazimir making sure the gondola was knotted tight to the post, then rising and stretching very boisterously. ”Not what I expected for a day like this but doesn’t hurt to work up a little appetite before your brother’s welcome feast. Come on,” he commented, gesturing for the little man to follow him, heading in the same direction to the Keep, though they would be going to a different section of rooms from the girls. The family would be in the main hall. They could avoid that area until Anurion was ready.

”So tell me again what happened with your outfit.” Abrazimir inquired, gesturing at the mud stains and all on Anurion’s present clothes. ”Your stepbrother did this to you? By Uinen, I thought only having sisters was miserable.” He said with light humour. But this sort of prank or cruelty was extreme. He had better keep an eye out on this other brother.

[Lantaelen]

@Arnyn

Lord Abrazimir Dimaethor
Mid-January, Estate of House Dimaethor, Lond Côl
Early in the Fourth Age

The night was growing late and the party was coming to an end. It could be seen in the heaviness of folk’s eyelids, and the sluggish of their actions, and the reduced volume of their words and conversation. Abrazimir signalled to his sister that it was time to start escorting the guests to their sleeping quarters and she began to take them in twos and threes, though those who wished to remain and drink and mingle a bit longer were welcome to. Abrazimir has host would be the last to leave.

Even if he’s had his fair share of liquor.

But he wasn’t the only one, as Kaylin’s cheery face approached him with an offer, inquiring whether he might be willing to play a little game. ”Oh?” Abrazimir mused, dramatically pausing to finish off the rest of the wine in his current goblet, giving a mock look of disdain at the notion of backing away from any challenge. Certainly not from this, as she aptly put it, lowly Hyandaner!

”A game, huh? Dare I guess that you mean…a drinking game? For we have our fair share of them here in Belfalas. Come, let me show you one. See who’s arms strike truer and more precisely, you Hyandaners or us Swan-Knights.” Abrazimir grinned, looking around for a moment, seeing the side table where all the fresh goblets were stacked. He went and grabbed…twelve of them and brought them to the main table.

”Take six. And arrange them in this pattern from the edge of the table facing towards the center; three, two, one. And take this bowl of grapes.” He instructed her, lining up the cups in a triangular formation facing towards Kaylin’s end of the table. ”The game is…we’ll take turns throwing the grapes into each other’s cups. And whoever can eliminate the others first shall triumph. What do you say? Does this challenge daunt you, Hyandaner?” Abrazimir smirked, thinking he had the advantage of home court and experience with the game, offset by a not insignificant volume of wine he already consumed.

[Melahny_oftheWoods]

@Rillewen @Pele Alarion
@Rillewen @Pele Alarion

Herbalist Melahny & Cocoa Willow
On a journey - late September

Melahny replied to Xyler and Hadassa, "I agree with Hadassa, I don't think we will reach the other side today. We should set up camp for the night."

She looked around as well and thought she recognized a small alcove where they could have a camp fire, sheltered by a little ceiling of rock that jutted out from the side. "Here's as good as we're going to get in this pass, I think," she pointed to the small shelter, not deep enough to be a cave, but enough to get out of the rain. "We can build a fire there."

She dismounted and began to collect some nearby leaves and bits to start the fire. She figured there would be enough loose branches around to make a good enough fire for the night. She sat down and started working on the fire pit.

(OOC- sorry, didn't see this post, only found because I was looking for where we left off here).

[Arnyn]

@Lantaelen

|
Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen| Hyandaner Kaylin
January - Estate of House Dimaethor, Lond Côl

While Arnyn wouldn't have been opposed to staying back and talking to some of the rangers a little longer, the past few weeks had been tiring - for many different reasons. And she knew it would be wisest to end the evening here, so she might acquire a good night's sleep before setting out to sea for the training. So it came to be that the Lieutenant, after making eye contact and greeting everyone in the room from a distance, if she could not bid them goodnight in person, was one of the people to follow Gaer to whatever sleeping quarters had been prepared.

Meanwhile, Kaylin thought the look on Abrazimir's face was pretty promising. Her grin widened when he mentioned the term 'drinking game' by name. Thus proving that was, indeed, exactly what she meant. Giddy that he was so easily swayed into a game, it didn't even matter that the game was his choice. As if he could surprise her with anything she hadn't seen before!

As he ordered her to take six of the goblets and set them out into a specific pattern, Kaylin excitedly did so. She thought she recognized it already. Her bluegrey eyes darted around, but the closest thing nearby was wine. Not ale. Well. Whatever.

"The challenge," she replied, faking a haughty tone as she walked a few paces to a part of the table where a rather full wine pitcher had ended up, "indeed suits me." She had played several variants before. Of course. She walked back with the pitcher and started filling all the cups, starting with Abrazimir's and finishing with her own. "When a grape goes in, you have to drink it," she filled in the blanks. "Correct?" She pushed the now empty pitcher to the side, and grabbed a handful of grapes with her left hand. "I"m the one who challenged you," she reminded him. "You're up first. None of this ladies whatever blah blah."

[Karis Ziranphel]

@Arnyn

Thûllir Bregedŷr
Dor-En-Ernil
Summer’s End
(Private Ranger RP intro with Kaylin)

Checking brand marks had been easy in daylight, but the next part of his exploration would have been much safer under the cover of darkness. Thûllir took his time carefully slipping through the bars of the makeshift corral and then quickly moved across the open space to the corner of the closest building, which was a small shed. It was sturdy enough but not particularly well-built, and he could peek between the staves of the walls, but it was rather dark inside so he couldn’t see more than vague shapes on the floor and against the walls. Easing his way to the corner and peering around it, he noted the layout looked different from this angle.

There was a hitching rail and covered area to his left that appeared to serve as a stable of sorts, although it stood empty at the moment with dangling ropes. Ahead and to the right, near the wall of the short cliff stood a longer and somewhat better constructed building of rough-cut timbers that had smoke issuing from a hole in the roof. Likely served as both a bunkhouse, kitchen, and eating space in one. Beyond that was another building, but it wasn’t large enough to hold many people, and there was stone around the base before the timbers began.

He heard the slam of a door and eased himself back at the stomp of boots, but when the sound angled away from him toward the cliff face before changing to the unmistakable sound of someone relieving themselves, he glanced out again to see a somewhat disheveled man standing at a trench not far enough from the spring that emerged from the rocks to be healthy. Wrinkling his nose slightly, he observed the man rearrange himself and then splash his hands and head in water from the spring before heading back inside still dripping. That water was clean enough coming out of the rocks, but took uncleanness with it to the larger stream and river.

Thûllir waited several heartbeats after the next slam of the door before walking quickly across the open space to the corner of the larger building. Looking down the wall, he saw there were no windows facing the cliff, but there was a gap in the timbers at about waist height where two planks weren’t quite even. There was the clank of dishes and the gruff murmur of voices from within that led him to believe it was likely the noon mealtime that had them inside the building. Easing along and being careful to step lightly, Thûllir crouched down to peer through the gap in the planks. It took a second for his vision to adjust to the darker and smokier atmosphere, but he made out a long table with benches, and the cooking area and counter seemed to make up the far end of the space with a door and two windows along the front. There were bunks built along the far wall and the side that he had come from closest to the woods and cliff. Backs were to him, but he counted five men of varying ages on the nearest bench, and the feet of several more could be seen on the other side. There seemed to be an interesting mix of course hair and clothes with items of mismatched finery; necklaces, and rings flashing on fingers paired with thick wove plain dark wool trousers and a silken shirt on one man that used to be of the finest blue, and a stained tunic on another that had seen better days. Most wore weapons of some sort, with daggers on their belts and axes or swords resting nearby. Thûllir couldn’t get a full count, but it seemed that the main strength of the group was present for the meal, including the cook, who was a thin and bearded man with a pinched face and a splattered apron still stationed by the counter as he dished up a plate for himself.

Thûllir backed away and tried to mentally calculate. At least ten and possibly fifteen had been in the meal space. Either the reports had been exaggerated, or there were a few more elsewhere, either in a nearby village or out keeping watch. He blew a breath out silently and then ducked below the opening to continue on to the far end of the building. He wanted to check out the one that had been more carefully constructed. Hopefully it was unsecured, but he couldn’t count on it despite the crowd in the bunkhouse.

[Rillewen]

@Melahny_oftheWoods @Pele Alarion
(Invite only)

Xyler
Gondorian side of Wyndhorne Pass - late September

Xyler tried not to feel too disappointed when both of his traveling companions agreed that they were nowhere near the end of the pass. He had hoped maybe they would have reached the end of it, before the end of the day, but obviously, his hopes had been far too high in this regard. But he wasn't too bothered by that.

After Melahny dismounted and began gathering some things for a fire, Xyler slipped his feet out of the stirrups and stretched his legs briefly, then returned the left foot to the stirrup and carefully dismounted. "Sounds good." He agreed, glancing around in search of a stream or something, where they could get water. After venturing a little way from the camp spot, he spotted a small brook that was trickling down the mountain, and he led his horse over to it to let him drink.

Once Dusty had finished drinking, Xyler swapped the bridle for a halter and led him over to an area where there was a bit less underbrush, so he could graze without getting his rope caught on bushes. For now, he lightly secured the lead rope to a sapling. Taking some rope from his saddle bag, Xyler tied one end to a slim but sturdy tree, well above the height of his own head, then stretched the rope out and tied the other end to similar tree, a bit away. Then he retrieved his horse and tied his lead rope to one section of this 'high line'. It was something he had seen others do often, and had been told that it was the best way to secure a horse whilst camping overnight or something.

Once he had Dusty secured to the line, he took off his saddle and laid it aside before taking out a currycomb and hoof pick. Once he had finished grooming his horse, Xyler went back to the stream and cleaned up, then filled some containers with water before going to see how he could assist with setting up camp. "I've got a line ready for the horses," He mentioned. "And brought some water," He added, unsure whether they would need it for cooking, but it didn't hurt to have it handy. "What else needs doing?" he added, seeing that Melahny seemed to have the fire under control. "I'm not really that familiar with camping.. stuff.. but I can cook pretty well." He added, offering his skills in that area, at least.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

Anurion aka "Madhion", apparently
In the boat, heading back toward Castle Dimaethor

Anurion nodded several times in agreement with Azraindil's account of their adventure, before then offering a sympathetic face at the story about being bitten by a goose. "I have heard those are quite vicious." He nodded in understanding. "That monster up there," He motioned into the sky, "nearly took off my arm!" Alright, so that was a bit of an exaggeration, but when one is hanging from a cliff by one hand and that hand is about to be pecked by a vicious seagull... it could seem a bit like it was going to bite off his arm, or at least hand.

And back to the topic of clothing. Anurion nodded, confirming that yes, green was his favorite color. Although he was not particularly enthusiastic about being called 'little lord', he still did not protest verbally. Instead, he offered a little smile at the joke about not thanking him yet. "Well, ordinarily I would not mind the mud," He confessed with a slightly mischievous grin. "However, I did promise my brother I would be there for him today." He added, looking down in s bit of shame. But this gallant knight was going to fix it so that he could be there! He looked up again with a little smile.

As they drew up beside the dock and Abrazimir hopped out, Anurion climbed out easily enough. He'd played around in the river and around the logging boats often enough that he could manage this sort of thing easily. When told to be careful, he offered a little grin. "Are you concerned that I might fall in, and ruin my clothes, sir?" He asked, with a hint of amusement in his tone. As if his current clothes were not already ruined with mud.

Anurion followed Abrazimir's instructions, and soon they had the boat secure. Then, after helping the ladies off, he smiled in return to Azraindil's thanks. "Of course, my lady." He answered with a bow, which probably looked ridiculous given his current state of appearance. He didn't care though, and grinned at the amusement of how he probably looked. It still didn't quite seem... real, to think that this girl who had so easily become a friend over the last hour or whatever, would soon be marrying his brother. He had difficulty imagining it, and instead decided to push those thoughts away for now.

Turning then to Abrazimir, once the ladies had gone off to get Azraindil all fixed up and all, Anurion began following after him. He hesitated at the request to repeat what had happened, and began absently trying to pull a few clumps of mud out of his hair. "Well," He began slowly, undecided just how much to tell him. "It was not entirely.. one-sided," he admitted. "He and I got into a... disagreement," He explained, a little awkward to be talking about it, as he walked along with the knight. "Somehow," -as if he didn't know- "we both ended up falling into this mud puddle," he left out how they had wrestled and rolled around in it, "and then Mother sent us both back to the boat to change and get cleaned up. She said we could not come to the castle until we looked presentable again."

He paused, then went on, frowning. "But I have nothing to change into, so I could not change." He concluded, trying to avoid 'tattling' on his stepbrother even though he deserved to have everyone know what he was really like. And he also knew that his mother would rather they present the appearance of a 'unified family' in front of the other family. So, while he wanted to tell exactly how horrible that irritating Togg was, he did his best to try and downplay how bad he was, at the moment. Which meant trying to leave out how he had ended up having no clothes to wear. He might have grabbed something of Togg's to wear, but the other boy was a bit smaller than Anurion despite being about a year older. "And that is why I was upset when Lady Azraindil found me." He explained, in a conclusion to his tale.

[Lantaelen]

@Arnyn

Lord Abrazimir Dimaethor & Lady Gaerlothriel Dimaethor
Mid-January, Estate of House Dimaethor, Lond Côl
Early in the Fourth Age

The Hyandaner already guessed at Abrazimir’s mind and next step, fetching the wine herself to pour into the dozen cups they gathered. Starting with his side first. He came to watch, with a critical eye, seeing that each cup was measured equally to the rest. And with hers! ”They better all be leveled to mine.” He growled a playful warning at Kaylin as she filled her own.

”Correct.” He said with a nod to her guess of the rules. Score a grape, drink the cup. And eat the grape. He was about to suggest ladies first but Kaylin shot down any possibility of that, demanding that he go first. ”Very well,” he said, a mischievous glance at her, seeing that she opened the door already to certain mental games. ”my Lady Kaylin.” He jested and grabbed a grape off the bowl and moved into position behind his edge of the table.

And just as he was about to shoot…Gaerlothriel returned, having deposited the last of the Rangers to their sleeping quarters. ”Hey, what are you playing?” She asked curiously, coming to the side of the table. And it tripped Abrazimir up and his first shot went wild. In fact his shot went wide and it bounced harmlessly off Kaylin’s arm.

”You need to go to bed.” Abrazimir told his sister.

”But-“ Gaerlothriel tried to interject. She could…pour wine into the cups, maybe even get a chance to throw a grape! This looked fun!

”I don’t want father and mother melting me in my armour with their gazes when you are yawning all throughout breakfast. Off you go now.” Abrazimir waved her off, causing his sister to pout.

”Fine,” she consented, hands clutching the side of her skirts, to raise them up a little around the ankles, as she got ready…to run. ”Goodnight, Kaylin. Goodnight…Mîrhimon!” She chortled, dropping her brother’s Sindarin name and turning to flee rapidly, as Abrazimir rounded on her with a snarl, but the little brat was gone, fleeing down the corridor. She had a lot to think about anyways.

”You heard nothing.” He said over to Kaylin. ”Take your shot, Hyandaner. No more distractions or demonstrations for you!” He said with a grin.

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lord Abrazimir Dimaethor
Dimaethor Familial Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil

With the women gone, it was just the two men. The Knight and the little Ranger. Anurion’s muddy appearance didn’t bother Abrazimir in the slightest. Okay, what young boy wasn’t out there in the world, getting himself all dirty from exploring the delights of nature? If it hadn’t happened intentionally, it was bound to happen casually. His sisters rushed up with haste and urgency but the pair of boys, one of heart and the other of stature, could follow at a more leisurely pace.

Anurion regaled him with the story. He and his step-brother had gotten into a quarrel, falling into mud, and having to change. Only Anurion did not have a change of clothes. Which was strange, as Abrazimir was sure he heard his mother talking of the Taurhebor-Talven family staying for a few days. No change of clothes? Something must have happened even worse. ”Well, it’s not the end of the world. You made a promise to your brother to be there for him. We are going to help you make that promise.” Abrazimir patted Anurion on his upper back in a gentle, affectionate way. No one should have to be left out of their own family’s momentous occasion.

”We’ll stop by my room, get you a change of clothes. You quickly change and maybe we can make the party before the women do.” Abrazimir laid out the plan, short and simple, for Anurion as they arrived to the Keep. Not the front entrance though. They would have to come by the main hall where the families were seated and possibility get seen and put into deeper trouble, even if they were just passing through. Instead Abrazimir moved around the Keep and came to a rear entrance used by the servants and staff, going through backrooms and stairs, up to the top floors where bedrooms were.

He brought Anurion to his own quarters. It was those of a knight. On a stand were Abrazimir’s polished, regal Swan-Knight armour, steel and blue, with silver wings adorning the tall, conical helm. A shield, proudly bearing the White Swan of Dol Amroth. There were several knives and short blades laid out on a dresser. His bed was tucked to a corner, made up in military style. Abrazimir threw open his closet and searched a moment, pushing past many outfits dangling from a pole.

He found the one in question. A rich, green tunic with gold trimming, button sleeves, and even a matching white cloak, that would help make him look gallant. Brown trousers as well to complete the outfit. A true woodsman look. ”I used to wear these as a kid, they’re about your size. Some fancy tailor in Dol Amroth made them, for some hunting party my father took me on, with the other young boys at the time. Very rich. Here, feel the fabric,” he offered it to Anurion. ”You can keep them if you like. Not like I’m going to shrink or decrease in size at this point.” He chuckled at the thought.

”You can change in here. I’ll be right outside. When you’re all set, we’ll head on down and it’ll be like nothing ever happened. Alright with you, my Lord?” Abrazimir asked courteously, already heading to the door, ready to step out and shut it when Anurion gave his consent to the outfit. No problem at all to do a good deed for Anurion. Their families were going to be joined and Abrazimir always wanted brothers. It was rather fun for him, this act of kindness. And he could be there for his own brother, who would become the link between their families.

What could possibly go wrong?

When Anurion had changed, Abrazimir nodded approvingly. ”You wear it better than I ever did. And it is an outfit for getting in the mud, so you merely had the cart before the horse, we’ll say. Come on.” He beckoned Anurion to follow and they went down the proper staircase, that would bring them directly into the main hall, where the families were seated and awaiting the missing people.

There were four couches arranged around a little table between. On the north couch, Lord Zâinabên sat on the left corner and Lady Orelnith on the right corner, a spot open between them. On the east couch Lady Talven had been invited to sit, with Dulinneth, and an empty spot. On the west couch was Lord Talven and his son, Toggornir, and another empty spot. On the south couch, the place of honour, was where Aearonor and Gaerlothriel were supposed to sit. Together. The empty spot next to Lady Talven and Dulinneth would be closest to Aearonor. The empty spot next to Toggornir was closest to where Gaerlothriel would sit.

The fathers were talking and the mothers were talking, fussing over Dulinneth, when Abrazimir and Anurion entered the hall. ”Look who I found!” Abrazimir announced in a cheery voice, hands on Anurion’s shoulders to present him to the gathering with pride.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

Anurion aka "Madhion", apparently
Main Hall, Castle Dimaethor

Hearing that Abrazimir was going to help him keep his promise, Anurion's smile grew. "Thank you, sir." He replied happily, hardly able to believe how his luck had turned suddenly. It was even more of a surprise to learn that he would be taken to the knight's own room. He had expected something like.. a storage room or something, where old clothes might be kept.

As they traveled up through the castle by back ways, he looked around in wonder, trying to take everything in as they went. Soon, they entered Abrazimir's own quarters. Anurion looked around, admiring the suit of armor on the stand, and the helm and shield. He was tempted to reach out and touch, but he knew better, especially with mud on him. So, he refrained, and kept his hands to himself as he looked at the weapons.

After a moment, Abrazimir turned back to him with an outfit that was just perfect. Anurion grinned as he saw it. Green and brown! Perfect! Fancy enough for this meeting thing, also perfect. He reached out to feel the fabric, as encouraged, but when he did, he saw the dirt on his hands and held back. "I'd better not.." He realized with a slightly sheepish grin. "Thanks though. I'll clean up first." He grinned in surprise at the generous offer to keep the outfit. "Thank you very much, sir!" He nodded in answer to the plan. "That sounds fine." He declared, pleased to have found such a kind person to help him out of his dilemma.

Once he had been left in the room to change, Anurion located a washbasin and took some time to wash his hands and face, and also his hair. Because, after checking in the mirror, he realized that there was a lot of the stuff dried up in his hair by now. The water was rather dirty by the time he'd finished, but Anurion was not anymore. And by the time he stepped out of the room, he looked almost like a different person, dressed in clean clothing, with his hair combed back and secured neatly with a tie, and no mud in sight. Indeed, it did look as if nothing had ever happened, except that what he was wearing would be entirely unfamiliar to his family. He could hardly wait to see the look on Togg's face when Anurion showed up.

He smiled happily to hear the approving comment from the knight, then laughed about putting the cart before the horse. "I will do my very best to avoid mud, for the remainder of the stay here." He assured him, although he was smiling. "I very much appreciate your assistance with my problem, sir." He added. They set off down the stairs into the main hall, then. Anurion struggled to keep a smug look off of his face as they entered the room where their two families were seated, although he did walk in with his head high, with no hint of awkward or shyness about him. He cast a swift look around the room as Abrazimir said 'look who I found', and briefly met Togg's eyes. The idiot looked stunned for a few seconds, then, to one who knew him well, they might notice disappointment cross his face before he looked away, trying not to visibly pout.

Feeling great satisfaction in witnessing this reaction even if it was subtle enough that the Dimaethors probably did not notice it, Anurion bowed to Lord and Lady Dimaethor. "My apologies for being late, my lord." He did not offer any excuse, and would not unless he would be asked specifically for one. Then, he turned and offered a polite bow to his mother, as well as his stepfather, before looking around to decide which seat to claim. Obviously, he gathered that the spot next to Aearon was probably for his betrothed to sit. For Azraindil. The girl that Anurion had recently dubbed 'Uilneth'.

Which left one spot for Anurion, and one spot for Abrazimir. And... suddenly, it came to mind that he had heard somewhere that Azraindil had a sister. Wait... could that be the lady in the boat? The stern one that Abrazimir had called Zorzi! Right... Anurion felt a little silly now, realizing this. He'd heard a lot about the family over the years, of course, since his mother was close friends with them, and she went to visit Lady Dimaethor as often as she could. But he hadn't realized that would be who that lady was. Well, regardless... in the quick moment it took for him make up his mind about which seat to pick, Anurion quickly weighed the options. Obviously, it would be weird for him to choose to sit between Lord and Lady Dimaethor, so that option was out. He definitely did not want to sit next to Togg, and, if he did, then that would put either Abrazimir or his sister having to sit next to Anurion's mother and sister. That would be a little weird, at least for Abrazimir. Maybe not for 'Zorzi', but regardless... inevitably, Anurion chose the empty spot next to his little sister, offering a quick smile to her before turning to glance at Aearon with a reassuring look at his brother, who looked slightly nervous and tense, but was clearly trying his best not to let it show in front of their hosts.

Once the attention had shifted away from him as conversations were resumed, Anurion leaned closer to his brother and muttered, "Told you I'd be here." He offered a quick grin before settling back in his seat, taking a curious look around.

[Arnyn]

@Lantaelen

Hyandaner Kaylin
January - Estate of House Dimaethor, Lond Côl

"Ohhh - they'll be level," she reassured him. "Don't you worry." She wouldn't want him to have any reason to dispute her win. If she won, of course. Which wasn't a given. Kaylin had no idea how good or bad Abrazimir Dimaethor might be at games like these. That he hadn't balked at her challenge, though, and that he'd been the one to suggest the game... at the very least told her he was no amateur.

She smirked when he addressed her with 'lady'. A consequence, of course, of the way she had addressed him just before. The redhead had to bite her lip to keep from laughing when Gaer interjected at a moment Kaylin couldn't have planned any better. The knight's shot went wide, the grape hitting her arm and then the floor, rolling a ways before drawing to a halt. Kaylin tsk-ed even as Abrazimir told his sister to turn in for the night. While she did not interfere with the siblings' interaction, she did look on their exchange with interest. "Sleep well, Gaer," Kaylin told the young lady, and when Abrazimir turned toward his sister, evidently displeased at her use of his Sindarin name, Kaylin held back a chuckle. The grin on her face was, however, not at all hidden when the knight told her 'she had heard nothing'.

With a shrug, she raised her eyebrows. "Spoilsport," she remarked, which could have referred both to his dismissal of his sister as well as his insistence she 'had heard nothing'. As if to make her point, she pursed her lips a little as she wasted no more time and threw a grape at the cup.

The wine splashed up as the grape landed smack dab in the middle cup of the line consisting of three cups. Kaylin slanted her head, giving Abrazimir a smug little look. "Drink up," she grinned, waving her hand a little before peering over her shoulder to Thullir. He was sitting in a corner, doing something with straps of leather. She shot a wink at her husband.

But it seems like she got a bit too smug after that perfect landing.... for Kaylin's second grape went flying too far and too high, hitting Abrazimir's belt. "Woops," she laughed, not even feeling bad about it. "Your turn," she grinned, rubbing her hands.

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lord Zâinabên, Lady Orelnith & Lord Abrazimir
House Dimaethor Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil

What polite manners the little Lord had. It gave Abrazimir good hopes that the family his youngest sister was being wed into would be generally kind and welcoming. Sure, Anurion had come to him after a spate with his step-brother but that could just be the average sibling rivalry and feuding. Valar knew how much arguments he had with his own sister Zorzimril. Or maybe Abrazimir was blinded, always wanting brothers, thinking how fun and unifying that could be. And not the other kind, where the brothers might be competing fiercely for scraps at the table.

But they arrived - before his sisters too! – and the parents seemed…less agitated about them for it. It was all about presentation and the perfect reception and greeting could still happen to a lesser degree. Anurion apologized for his tardiness and Lord Zâinabên gave a curt and solemn nod. ”Welcome, son. Have a seat.” He beckoned Anurion, affectionately calling the son of his wife’s best friend by a familiar title. They were all to be family here, joined together in matrimony.

Anurion sat at the edge of the couch next to his mother and little sister. Abrazimir sat across, next to Toggornir. The troublemaker. Oh, he was probably just a silly boy. Too immature to realize the consequences of his actions before he did them. What he needed was strong role modelling and Abrazimir would step up. Hopefully he could have a positive effect. ”Hello. Hello.” He beckoned to Toggornir and then Aearonor, eyeing his future brother-in-law a moment. ”You look dashing, Sir.” Abrazimir greeted like the younger man was his equal, touching his chest in a pseudo-salute.

And he gave a secretive, playful look at Anurion, dressed in the Swan-Knight’s own garb. You look better but shh, that’s between us.

Which is exactly what the parents were discussing on their own side of the table. Is that not Abrazimir’s outfit? Lord Zâinabên was asking, and then received the tale from Lord Torthon and Lady Duvaineth about the scrap the two boys had. Lessened the agitation even more for the Dimaethors. Everyone was having some trouble, good. It made Azraindil’s tardiness more palpable. Perception and presentation.

”So!” Abrazimir said, commanding the attention amongst the boys on his end of the table and lounge. ”After this, how would you three like to go down to the River-Fort? It’s been there for ages. We can go up on the battlements if you like. Look at the battleships here and on the other side. Hey,” he then said in a low voice, leaning in as if to share a secret for Toggornir, Aearonor and Anurion. ”Maybe we’ll see where the famous Lady-Knight of Azrubêl. You ever heard of her? Defeated ten challengers at the last tourney.” He over-exaggerated her prowess.

But in a few short moments, the rustle of fabric and clink of metal could be heard coming down the passage way. The bride-to-be was here.

---

Lady Zorzimril & Lady Azraindil
House Dimaethor Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil

Putting forth all her powers, Zorzimril had transformed Azraindil from Seaweed-Girl to Seaflower.

She wore a blue dress, with a bell skirt, and a sleeveless top, with a knotted bustle behind her. Silver bangles covered her forearms, clinking with any little movement. Her hair had been transformed, the sides done up to form a crown braid around her head, with the rest combed and silky behind her. And most significantly to some…Azraindil wore a pearl necklace. She was shy, blushing, and walking a bit unsteady from the layers and shape of it all, but she was present. And beautiful.

And everyone should rise to their feet when a Lady entered. Though that Lady was too shy to meet anyone’s gaze head on. ”Good morn.” Zorzimril greeted all, walking beside her sister. ”A thousand apologies for our delay. I had erroneously picked out an outfit with mismatching themes but…here we finally are.” She explained, absolutely taking all the blame and scrutiny for the delay, despite her harsh words for Azraindil on the boat. Just what a good sister should do.

But Azraindil’s appearance wowed her parents, Lord Zâinabên coming around to greet his youngest daughter, hands on her shoulder, kissing her forehead. He looked almost…sorrowful. Near-tears of joy. This was actually happening. His baby girl…to be promised and committed. Oof. ”You look gorgeous, my dove.” He praised Azraindil, who blushed even harder. A rare compliment, which made it hit all the more harder. Same with the reality. This was actually happening. And as Lord Zâinabên stepped back and stood to Azraindil’s side to present her to the group, the young Lady finally got a good look at her future intended.

…she scarcely looked at Aearonor. It was terrifying. It made her heart pang. It wasn’t that he was not unhandsome. He was very much so. And that made it the reality even more shocking. Her eyes immediately sought out Anurion. Her Ranger. Good. He would be seated near to her, the spot next to Aearonor open…

”My friends, my family, this is my daughter, Azraindil. She is my Flower, and a great joy to Orelnith and myself.” Zâinabên introduced her to the Talvens and Taurhebors. Then he, and Zorzimril looked at Azraindil expectantly. She was supposed to say something! The seconds ticked by. Zâinabên pinched her shoulder and Azraindil nearly squeaked, before remembering the one line she had been made to rehearse.

She performed a curtsey. ”I am pleased to meet you all. My Lord, my Lady.” She greeted Torthon and Duvainath in turn, then set her eyes on Aearonor. Fugitively. Flickering at him, flickering away. ”Sir.” She mumbled at last.

Zâinabên gestured at Zorzimril, who guided Azraindil around the couches and had her sit next to Aearonor, with Abrazimir closest at the corner, next to Toggornir. Just Aearonor and Azraindil together on the couch. Presentation. Zorzimril knelt and spread Azraindil’s skirts about her legs, to give it more form and shape, then finally stood back and the pair of them could be admired together. She continued to stand behind and to the side of Azraindil and Aearonor, looming ominously, protectively…

”So handsome. So beautiful.” Lady Orelnith said proudly to Lady Duvaineth.

”This union will be productive for everyone.” Lord Zâinabên said to Lord Torthon, nodding seriously. Productively?! What did that mean?

”Well, what do you think, young Lord?” Lord Zâinabên then put Aearonor on the spot.

[Lantaelen]

@Arnyn

Lord Abrazimir Dimaethor
Mid-January, Estate of House Dimaethor, Lond Côl
Early in the Fourth Age

Spoilsport indeed! If it worked to get inside his challenger’s head, to disrupt her strategies, and her aim, Abrazimir would buy into it. He would buy into any advantage! After all, this was his home court, and he needed to set a reputation for himself and his family name. Even for a ridiculous, silly drinking game like this. The stakes it what made it fun. And diamonds were made under pressure, as they said.

Kaylin though was apt to apply that pressure, as her shot – her very first shot! – went right into the rear-center cup in his line-up. It plonked so decisively, his eyes flicking down to miss it by a heartbeat, seeing the grape floating and meandering about in the cup. Drink up she boasted, glancing around the room to those that were left, as if to rub it in. ”Well aimed.” Abrazimir said under his breath, pretending to scowl at her, as he picked up the goblet and drained it back in two-three gulps, capturing the grape at the end and chewing softly before swallowing.

It was nothing. He could handle his wine. …right? Just one cup, on top of the few he sipped over the past few hours. But all this intake, so rapidly, all at once…

”You scored, so you can shoot again, as the bonus.” He informed her of the rules as they went along and Kaylin readied another shot…which missed completely, striking him in his midsection harmlessly, to roll to the floor. ”Hah!” Abrazimir rubbed it in back, grinning broadly, reaching for his bowl of grapes. The first…he just popped into his mouth to eat. The second he readied for a shot, elbow bent, hand raised to the side of his face, grape balanced between his pointer and thumb.

With a flick his wrist, he released the shot, the grape soaring…and plunking into a cup in Kaylin’s second row. A bite out of her formation! ”All too easy.” He boasted, raising his hand and balling it into a fist of triumphant. ”Drink up, friend. Be sure to relish the hospitality.” He teased with a grin.

And since he scored, he got to go again, picking up a new grape. Which he promptly ate again. And then selected a second to shoot, folding his arm, trying to line up his aim despite the copious amount of wine he had already consumed. And was ahead of him to consume.

Abrazimir shot…and his grape landed flatly, without flourish or bounce, at the base of Kaylin’s lead cup. Just like all his hopes for victory in that moment. Sunk like a pebble at sea. ”Good luck.” He passed the initiative over to his worthy opponent.

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lady Gaerlothriel Dimaethor
Mid-January, Estate of House Dimaethor, Lond Côl
Early in the Fourth Age

As always, on account of her youth, Gaer was banished from the party.

Maybe for the best. She had been curious about the game. She wanted to mingle and talk more with these Rangers and adventurers. But…after one cup of wine, she was well aware of the effects of intoxication. It was faint, but present, a buzz around her gaze, a sort of rush in her thoughts, a giddiness in her limbs. And a sort of…disquiet.

However brief it had been, her conversation with Arnyn and Kaylin, about futures and choices - about Toggornir and marriage – left her in deep thought. Everything she learned over the past six months weighed on her mind, amplified by the silence and loneliness, and the intoxication. She thought about him, about his troubles and fears and labours, and of Toggornir, and his father, and Dulinneth and her burden.

As the youngest child, she had the smallest room in her family, upon the upper levels of the Keep. Certainly, bigger than any servant’s quarters though. She had her curtained bed. Two arched windows. A small walk-in closest, and two other chests for garments. She had a desk, with a little shelf above, containing various knick knacks and curiosities. Her floor had soft carpeting. A small family banner hung on the wall. Another of the blue banner and white swan of Dol Amroth.

Only a single candle on the desk was illuminated, but the rest of the room was shrouded in dark except for the little bit of silver light from the moon above. Not that Gaer needed the candle. This was her chamber, her fortress, she knew every step and pace and measurement and distance between things. She ought to just go to bed.

But her mind was racing.

Where was…he, Anurion, right now? What was he like? It had been ten years since she first met Mud-Boy. Madhion. Some parts seemed so vague. Others so keen and vivid. It saddened her a little too that she remembered even less of Aearonor, who should have been her betrothed and intended, in a happier world. But she lost him. And then she lost Anurion. Or rather, that was taken from her, and she was given a very cheap substitute in the form of Toggornir instead.

What was Madhion like now? She still had…that letter. From Linny. Sitting at her desk, Gaer opened the bottom most drawer and moved a folded cloth aside, which served the strict purpose of concealing a small box underneath. She drew it out and set it before her, moving the candle closer. She removed the lid, revealing several folded parchments and papers, some coins, some…silly coloured rocks and shells she kept from her childhood. A bunch of treasures. More like the whimsical semblance of a carefree youth.

But the papers meant something. Letters and notes she kept in especial. One from her grandmother, who was no longer with them. One from her brother, a sort of farewell message before the Great Battle of the War of the Ring, thinking it might be his last, though now it was just…a passing thought. Another from her sister, speaking of the birth of Gaer’s first nephew. Always celebratory thing to recall. Another from a wood-boy she met in Ered Nimrais, written in blurred charcoal or something, but eligible.

And…the letter. From Anurion. Linny had given it to her at the joust. Don’t tell anyone, and don’t let anyone else see it. And Gaer hadn’t. Not a soul.

She unfolded it and read it again, words whispering along as her eyes flowed over the sentences.

To Lady Azraindil Gaerlothriel Dimaethor,

I hope that this letter finds you in good health. It is long overdue, and I apologize for the delay in writing it. It is a difficult letter to write, but necessary. I owe you my deepest apologies for leaving you in uncertainty for all these years, and I hope that you will accept my apologies with understanding. I'm afraid I cannot offer any better explanation for my departure other than simply to say it was extremely necessary. Furthermore, I assure you that it had nothing at all to do with you or your esteemed family, nor our betrothal.

While I cannot at this time tell you where I am, nor when I shall return, I felt it necessary to at least apologize for any inconvenience or trouble I may have caused by leaving so abruptly. I was recently made to realize how terribly thoughtless of me it was to leave without any explanation to you, my betrothed. Despite the fact we do not really know one another, I feel that I owe you something in the way of explanation. Yet, what I am able to tell you will seem vague and unsatisfactory.

Being uncertain, therefore, whether I ought to bother with such vague excuses, I will only tell you that it was in the best interest for both myself, and yourself, that I left as I did. Perhaps one day I can offer a better explanation which you certainly deserve, but for now, please be content to know that I am alive and well, and that I fully intend to return as soon as I am able. I have not forgotten you, nor our betrothal. I regret that I cannot tell you more than this. I wish you well, and hope for your forgiveness.

Also, strange as this may seem, I must ask that you tell no one about receiving this letter, much less where it came from. I trust that my sister has also asked for your secrecy in this matter, so I am relying on her trust in you, that you will keep this secret between the two of you. You have my utmost gratitude for being such a good friend to her, for my sister is very dear to me. I hope it will not be much longer before I can speak to you in person and explain about all of this, but until then, please know that you are often in my thoughts.

Sincerely, and with best regards,
Anurion Taurhebor

She read it twice, committing the count to the dozen or so times she had perused this letter already. He was alive. And under threat. And in grave danger. And she, his betrothed, his intended…what could she do? She wasn’t like Kaylin or Arnyn, brave and formidable Rangers who could shoot a bow and carry themselves so mightily. Not like her brother, who could ride a horse and swung a sword and a lance. Not like her sister either, who with just her airs of dignity and grace could command a whole town to her bidding. What could Gaer do?

She sighed mournfully. Seemed like a life wasted. What had she done in her life besides being a bird in the nest, waiting to spread her wings? But even if she leapt out of the nest, there were always more, ready to catch her, never letting her truly soar. What had she done? She glanced at the box and picked another sheet out of the box. Sheet was a generous term though. It was…packing paper. For meat. And foodstuff. But it had been written on. She had to squint to read it, recalling the fond memories, when her and that woodsman boy had saved those foxes from those poachers, denying them an ill-gotten bounty and coin.

Dear Nimdrodel,

I'm sorry I left without warning, yesterday. I promise, I didn't mean to abandon you or the foxes. In case you didn't see it, or understand the sketch I left you... I just went to get my pack. I hoped I would be back before you returned, but alas, it took much longer than expected.

Unfortunately, while I was there, I came close to another encounter with the poachers, and I overheard their plans. They're going to search this town, Nim. They plan to search all of the abandoned buildings, as well. You've got to get the foxes out of here and move them someplace safer. I wish I could help you, but I'm going back to try and lead them away from here, if I can. I heard them talking. If they find you, they'll hurt you, and I can't let that happen. Especially not to a friend.

I am eternally grateful for the supplies, and I hope to repay you someday. But for now, just worry about staying safe, please. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Take care of the foxes. And don't come back here, it might not be safe. I'm sorry I couldn't say goodbye in person. I won't be coming back, for fear that I might bring more danger to you.

Sincerely, your friend,
Trastion

Sincerely…Anurion Taurhebor…

Sincerely…Trastion…

Hmm, curious. She put the papers side by side. Boys…they could be so much alike. And yet… Eternally grateful. Utmost gratitude. Hmm. So much apology. And regret. And not being able to explain these things in person. And Gaer leaned back, staring aimlessly at her ceiling, just recalling and remembering. Trastion’s face…and Anurion’s face… how many years apart had it been since she first met Madhion and then Trastion? Hair was a little off but…he had been living in the wilds for some time. The eyes though. The eyes were the exact same.

And Trastion and Madhion…both matched her level of dreamy silliness.

So…could it be? The resemblance was far too uncanny and remarkable. The way they articulated themselves was too much of a coincidence to be random. Didn’t Linny mention something, about Anurion using an alias. What if it was Trastion? At first, Gaer thought, she needed to pen a letter now. This instant. Get it sent off to her friend and wait for a response. A confirmation. All she had to do was put one word in the letter and see the reaction it got.

But then, she realized, that letters could be so easily intercepted. And read. And if she felt bad already for not doing more to help Anurion, she would absolutely destroy herself if she put him in more harm’s way. No letter. Nothing on paper. At the first possible chance, she needed to find Linny, and speak to her, and say that one word to her.

And then all the pieces of this riddle would make sense. And she would know what to do next.

[Pele Alarion]

@Melahny_oftheWoods , @Rillewen
Hadassa
Travelling across the mountains with Melahny and Xyler

The alcove that Melahny had spotted would not make for the most comfortable shelter but at least it would keep away most of the rain and any falling rocks, or so Hadassa hoped.

She hesitated for a while between choosing whom to join as Melahny set about preparing the place for a fire and Xyler set off further with his horse. Eventually she dismounted and took to removing the saddle and the bags to relieve Sugar from burdens for the night.

Eventually Xyler returned with water and a question of further activities while reporting that he had set up a line for the horses.

"I don't know," Hadassa said with a shrug and a hearty smile. "A pot of tea would definitely be nice as the evening gets colder. Not sure if we need a cooked meal tonight. I still have a plenty of fresh bread and cheese and even some butter, and jerky for us to share, if anything. Though..." She looked around. "We probably need to find some larger dry branches to keep the fire going. And set up bedrolls."

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

Talven/Taurhebor Family
(oldest to youngest)

"Good afternoon, sir." Togg greeted the swan knight with his most polite tone, as the man took a seat next to him. But then all attention went to Aearonor almost immediately after.

"Hello. Thank you, sir. As do you." Aearon replied politely, dipping his head in respect to the knight as he returned the compliment. He was nervous, however. That much, Anurion could tell, even if he was trying not to let it show.

Anurion glanced around, wondering why Aearon was so nervous before the source of the nervousness had even arrived in the room. In fact, Anurion thought there seemed to be much more cause to be nervous of her big sister than of the girl herself! She had seemed very stern. He tried not to think about that though, and caught the glance that Abrazimir had thrown his way. He smiled faintly in return before he noticed that his stepfather was quietly explaining, to Lord and Lady Dimaethor, how the two younger boys had gotten into an argument and 'fell' into a mud puddle.

Duvaineth was a bit embarrassed to hear the tale told, but at least Torthon downplayed it a bit and it didn't sound quite so bad. And of course, neither of the parents knew about Togg's actions on the boat, concerning Anurion's clothes, and she intended to ask how it had come about that he was wearing borrowed clothing instead of his own. She was grateful to move on to another topic soon after.

To Anurion, the invitation to go to the River-Fort sounded very exciting. He brightened a little with interest. "A River fort?" He asked, then tried to tone down his eagerness to see such a thing. "Where is that? Is it very far?" He wondered, then the added bit about seeing Lady Isys made his eyes widen a little. "I certainly have heard of her." He answered with a nod. Who hadn't heard of the famous lady knight!? He and Aearon both thought she was amazing, and he always cheered for her whenever there was a joust that she was in.

"Ten?" Togg tilted his head, frowning. "We were at the last tournament." He mentioned, trying to think back to what the number had really been. "She didn't defeat ten challengers,"

"But she could have." Anurion argued, and he barely refrained from sticking his tongue out at the nuisance. "I would very much enjoy going to see the river fort, sir."

"As would I," Aearon agreed, though he was more reserved in showing his enthusiasm. "May we?" He asked, with a glance toward his mother for permission.

"We will see," Duvaineth answered, before her youngest child spoke up as well.

"May I come too?" Dulinneth pleaded, fearing she would miss out on something exciting. Whatever the boys were doing sounded like fun, and she would probably get stuck sitting here with the grown-ups listening to boring talk!

Before her mother could give her an answer, the bride-to-be was arriving, and all other talk ceased.

Aearon, having been well-schooled in what he was supposed to do and say, swiftly rose to his feet. So swiftly, he nearly leaped up, in his nervousness. He bowed, feeling rather self-conscious about his overzealousness in rising to his feet, then stood there feeling tongue-tied while Lord Dimaethor presented his daughter to them all. Aearon's future wife. He felt like all the words he'd been taught to say had just flown out of his ears.

On the other couch, Anurion stared for a few seconds. Was that even the same girl? He tried to imagine her in the wet, dirty dress from earlier, with clumps of seaweed in her hair. The only thing that he could find to match her with Uilneth, was that pearl necklace she had on. He smiled faintly as he caught sight of that, and now that he saw her glancing his way, he realized that yes, her face was also the same. Just cleaner, now.

Aearonor, meanwhile, was standing still, feeling his stomach churning in anxiety. This was only supposed to be an official 'betrothal' and yet, it felt like something far more. She was absolutely pretty, there was no denying that, but he had no idea what to even say to her. And while he had learned a lot of things that he ought to say, he feared he was going to start stammering or stuttering once he tried to actually speak. He hardly noticed that she appeared to be just as nervous. To him, it seemed that she executed her curtsy and speech quite fluidly, without hesitation.

Swallowing, Aearon caught a glimpse of Anurion, near him, making a subtle face at him. Something along the lines of 'say something!' It was one of those expression cues which were easily recognizable among close friends or brothers, but the average person might easily miss. Aearon bowed in reply to her 'sir'. "My lady," He murmured in response, then waited for her to be seated before he also resumed his seat. Next to her. Waiting while her sister arranged her skirts to be just right. Were they going to do a portrait, he wondered? Would they have to sit like this for days and days while some artist captured this moment forever? He didn't think he wanted to have it captured, to be honest. And he did not want to have to sit for a portrait, either...

Anurion, meanwhile, had to hold back a sigh of impatience at all these formal proceedings. At this rate, it would take all day just to get through a simple 'so we agree that they'll get married, now let's eat'. His stomach grumbled softly, and Dulinneth giggled quietly.

"They look wonderful together," Duvaineth whispered back to Orelnith, dabbing her eyes lightly with a handkerchief as she gazed proudly at her eldest son, sitting with Orelnith's youngest daughter. So grown up, both of them!

"Very productive indeed," Torthon nodded in agreement with Zainaben's comment, smiling as he inwardly began to plot how he might make things go more productively for himself, instead. "It will be an excellent match."

Aearon glanced over at his stepfather, wondering just what he meant by that. As Lord Dimaethor addressed him, however, Anurion cleared his throat to get his attention, and Aearon swiftly brought his gaze toward his future father-in-law. Future father-in-law, it had a very... alarming sound to it, somehow. What did he ask him? Aearon smiled, hastily thinking back to recall what the man had said, while trying his best to be the proper future lord, as he had been training to be since he was about three years old. "Yes, sir." He answered with forced confidence as he struggled to remember what he was supposed to say. "Your daughter is lovely, and I will be greatly honored to marry her, in due time." He somehow got through it without a flaw, much to his amazement.

In his peripheral vision he noticed Anurion, again with one of those subtle gestures with his head. Aearon angled his head slightly, just enough to see his brother better, and it seemed that he was trying to nod toward... ah. Right, of course. Toward Azraindil. He should say something to her. But what? He turned to her with a tentative smile. "It was worth the wait, so that I could see your entrance, my lady." He declared, hoping his face wouldn't turn red as he hoped that would be a proper compliment to pay to her. He wanted to say something else, more eloquent, but his mind was blank, and he ended up looking away again before it became awkward.

Anurion sat back, wondering how his big brother could be so confident and naturally good at everything, until a girl entered the equation. Then, suddenly, he seemed to have no idea what he should do or say, as if he was afraid she'd bite him or something! Thank goodness Anurion had managed to be here, or who knows how much more he might have frozen up!

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lord Zâinabên, Lady Orelnith, Lady Zorzimril, Lord Abrazimir, & Lady Azraindil Dimaethor
House Dimaethor Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil

Oh, Toggornir was one of those… Of course it was an exaggeration. An embellishment. Defeating ten competitors in a joust was the stuff of legends, no one had probably done that in a millennia. But she could have. See, Anurion got it and Abrazimir, looking at Toggornir, gestured at Anurion like he could learn a lot from the younger boy. They did assent to the idea of going down to the ancient River-Fort after the meeting, though their mother spoke in doubt about it, but Abrazimir was confident of his ability to persuade a loving mother that he could show as much concern and oversight as they would wish for their precious ones. He couldn’t answer for Dulinneth though, the girls would probably do something else than look at boring old stones and ships.

But here came the girls. He almost didn’t recognize his baby sister, baby no more. This must be how a father felt to see their children all grown up, though Lord Zâinabên as always betrayed very little of his inner emotion. Abrazimir on the other hand felt like he missed whole chapters of Gaerlothriel’s life. Next to Aearonor, who also had grown up seemingly so fast, the pair looked positively…elvish. Mature and regal, while young and full of potential. The scene was magic.

For Gaer – Lady Azraindil – it felt like something else. There was a pit in her stomach and nothing seemed to alleviate it. Everyone rained down their compliments. So handsome. So beautiful Emel said. They look wonderful together Lady Duvaineth pointed out. This union will be productive for everyone Adar noted. Very productive indeed Lord Talven agreed…

Productive?!

What…like money? What in the dark void of the deep ocean were they talking about? Aearonor was asked what he thought. He? What about what Azraindil thought? Aearonor got out some words about being honoured to marry her. He turned more to look at her – fully – and she felt a very hot blush creep up her neck and into her cheeks. She could not look back at him. She felt so very shy and small. Mostly small. Small and wanting to be invisible. It must have looked demurred, but she stared hard at the table between the couches, covered with drinks and a platter of fruit and other snacks, as Aearonor said it was worth the wait to see her grand entrance.

Strangely, she found it very easy to cast a fugitive glance at Anurion when his brother said that. Worth the wait? She and Madhion both knew why she had been late. It felt wrong to lie, even a white lie, as small as this. The silence was stretching out after Aearonor spoke. It felt so heavy. …three, four, five, six seconds… Was she supposed to say something? Zorzimril’s shadow seemed to loom heavy behind her. She couldn’t see her elder sister but the presence was very much felt. Yes, Azraindil was supposed to say something.

”T-Thank you, Sir-“ Azraindil started to say, finally forcing herself to peer at the young man beside her. She would have to marry this man and spend her life with him and…be productive and make money. Yes, that was it.

Lord Zâinabên clapped his hands before Azraindil could finish speaking. ”Alright, let’s drink.” He signaled and servants at the ready came forward with fresh goblets. Wine for the adults, and Abrazimir and Zorzimril, juice or water for the children. To Aearonor and Gaerlothriel. Hail! And then they drank.

And then they got down to business. The children could sit quiet during this part, the adults, the men, were going to talk. Marriage could be about love. It could also be a business transaction. And there was business involved. Timber and lumber for building, for ships, for all manner of industries, came in abundance from the Taurhebor estate. The Dimaethors as shipbuilders, weapon-makers, as in the forefront of the war effort, had great need for it. This marriage was a guarantee of certain privileges, pricing strategies, and supply-and-demand conditions.

There was also the matter…of the dowry.

Now, Lord Zâinabên was nuanced. He didn’t talk directly about Azraindil’s dowry. He didn’t even mention there would be one. Of course there was going to be one. Instead, the next hour was the adults talking indirectly about the dowry by talking about other folk’s marriages. What the dowries paid in those unions were. What the…standard was, for their time, and social class, and maybe a tale or two told of underpaid dowries, or widows not getting their dowries back in full, or misusing them. Tales of caution, tales of success. It might be confusing to the untrained minds for such things. A number was decided, without a number ever being said. It was most appropriate and generous.

A date was set. Ten years from now. Not ridiculous. They were Dúnedain, long lived, the descendants of Númenor. They played at being elves, making life plans measured by decades, even centuries. Ten years from now, it was all planned. How stifling that must be for the children. How small it must make them feel.

But suddenly, they were all released. A servant would show the visitors to their suite of rooms where they would stay for the following night or two. They could rest, freshen up, have small respite before a fancier banquet in the evening for dinner. They could get up and stretch their legs. ”I’ll speak with your mother about the River-Fort,” Abrazimir assured Toggornir, Aearonor, and Anurion, whom he knew to be all bored stiff, as he was the same. Zorzimril drew Azraindil aside to make minute adjustments to her dress, the bride-to-be still as mute as a statue. The boys had a moment to talk…

The sisters soon joined Abrazimir and Duvaineth…and Dulinneth. Seeing the little girl, Gaerlothriel actually smiled, and reached for her in a silent gesture that she wished to hold the young lady…but Zorzimril was quicker. And plucked Linny right up, balancing her on her hip and beaming, also for the first time, at the little Talven girl. ”Hi, how are you? You so precious, you know that? Lady Elbereth gave you so many gifts!” Zorzimril praised Dulinneth in a singsong Sindarin tone, while Gaerlothriel had to stare on enviously. ”Hello, cutiepie!” She cooed at Linny too.

Abrazimir obtained permission to take the boys out for a tour. Just be back by dusk for the banquet, maybe earlier, the boys would need to wash and change and all. ”We shall come as well.” Zorzimril declared as well, having overheard the request. And she said it in such a confident tone that it might persuade the parents that the children would be more secure with the responsible and very accountable Lady Zorzimril present than just Abrazimir.

Abrazimir rolled his eyes. ”Whatever- I mean, sure, yes, welcome, my Ladies.” He smiled at Linny, but turned back towards the boys, raising both thumbs up. ”We’re a-go, lads.” They must all be bored out of their minds but now they were free to spread their wings again and get out while there was still plenty of Sun and light.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

Talven/Taurhebor Family
(oldest to youngest)

Aearon felt quite awkward, as the silence stretched on. Maybe he hadn't spoken well. Maybe he should have said something different. Why couldn't he talk to this girl? He would have to marry her in a few years. Spend his life with her. The thought of spending the rest of his life getting tongue-tied and feeling awkward and unsure of himself.. made him feel rather anxious. A little knot tightened in his stomach. Fortunately, Lord Dimaethor spoke up and the awkwardness passed. But he had heard her quiet 'thank you'. Sir. He would have to get used to being called that, he supposed. Sir. Lord. Things like that. He was leaving childhood behind. Had left it behind, in fact, some time ago. But this meeting today made it all seem far more final. He would probably have to sign something, right? And that was going to feel like he was signing his life away. He held back a sigh at that thought.

The call for a drink made him catch his breath, casting a quick glance toward his brother, (coincidentally, about the same time that Azrain did) before watching intently the servants pouring drinks to make sure of what was being poured for Anurion. Only about a month ago, their parents had decided that Anurion had reached the age when it was alright to allow him watered down wine at the dinner table. And he had begun to suffer terrible stomach aches throughout the night and into the next day, as a result, until Aearonor, after remembering a near-disastrous incident from many years ago, had put together that this always occurred shortly after supper. Through process of elimination, the family had ultimately determined that it was the alcohol which was so hard on his stomach, and therefore, they had determined that it was best if he avoided it altogether.

Therefore, he relaxed slightly to see that Anurion, Togg, and Dulinneth were given juice or water. Had they been at home, he guessed that Togg would have protested, since at home he was allowed to have the watery wine. But here, he was on his best behavior, so he said nothing. Aearon was glad for that, at least. He was still worrying about how his annoying little stepbrother was going to try and embarrass them, because he felt sure that he would try at some point.. but for now, it seemed he was being good.

As for the bride-and-groom-to-be, some weak, watery wine was put into a cup for them to share. Aearon tried his best not to let his face flush at the thought of sharing a glass with her. A girl who was hardly more than his brother's age. Who was going to be his wife someday! He supposed it was probably due to the specialness of the occasion, why she was being given this watered-down-wine. And obviously, it was due to their betrothal, why they were expected to drink from the same glass. Whatever the case however, it was awkward for him.

With a somewhat nervous smile, he gestured for her to drink first. Ladies first, after all. It was the polite and gentlemanly thing to do. After graciously allowing her to take the first drink from their shared cup, he then drank from the opposite side of it. Just a sip, since it was expected of them. And then the business matters commenced.


Anurion wished he could have had some sort of warning in advance about what all of this was going to involve. And how long it was going to take. If he'd known, maybe he would have just stayed away! Really, couldn't they have dismissed the younger, uninvolved persons before going into all this super dull and boring talk? He was hard-pressed not to sigh audibly and slouch back into the couch. But since his mother was sitting there, he knew better than to give in to that. Still. He was bored out of his mind before they had gotten five minutes into the discussion about dowries and weddings and all that junk, and his gaze began to roam around the room. He absently tapped his fingers on his leg, without realizing, until his mother shot him a look. He quickly stopped his hand by clasping it with the other.

Beside him, Dulinneth was also fidgeting. Her little legs being too short to reach the floor, she bounced her feet alternatively against the seat, until Mother whispered for her to stop it. She gave a little sigh as she tried her best to sit still. Anurion gave her a small, sympathetic smile. He totally understood. This was incredibly dull. Why did they all have to sit here through it? Linn was too little to be subjected to all this dull business talk. He was struggling, himself. He looked over to see how Aearon was doing. While he appeared to be listening and paying close attention, like a proper grown up should be, Anurion thought he detected a far-away look in his eyes. He hid a tiny smile, wondering if Aearon was daydreaming about the idea of running off to become a ranger, instead of this. He wouldn't be surprised.

Remembering that he had a glass of juice, Anurion retrieved his glass from the table and took a very small sip. Just for something to do that wouldn't draw the look from his mother. A little tap on his elbow alerted him to his baby sister trying to get his attention. He looked, and saw her motion to her glass, too. He smiled and got it for her. Then he put both glasses back. Then he sort of tuned into the grown up's conversation to see if they'd made any progress. They were still talking about dowries? Holding back a deep sigh, Anurion looked around again, wondering if Abrazimir found all of this stuff as boring as the rest of them. Then he let his gaze rest briefly on Togg, noticing that his gaze seemed focused on Azrain. Anurion wondered what was going on in his head, feeling somewhat suspicious that he might be up to something. Togg was always up to something, right? Then he gave a little shake of his head, deciding that he really didn't want to know what was going on in his head.

Instead, Anurion's gaze wandered toward the window, trying to count the clouds that he could see. If there was a tree in view, he tried to count the leaves that he could see, and tried to imagine himself climbing it, and so on. Anything to keep his mind occupied while his body was forced to remain in stillness here in this Room of Boredom.

At last, the discussion came to an end. It seemed as if it took them ten years just to decide that the wedding would take place in ten years! Still, Anurion was relieved to hear that they were finally dismissed. It was as if they had been in school all this time, waiting for the teacher to say they could go outside and play now. He somehow managed to refrain from leaping up from his seat in eagerness, and instead stood up slowly, like a proper little gentleman. His mother was watching, after all. Still, he let out a slow breath that seemed something like a sigh of relief.

He offered a little smile to Azraindil as he passed her, on his way to Aearon, so they could speak quietly for a moment, together.

"Thank you, sir." Aearon replied to Abrazimir, before turning to his brother. He felt exhausted, though all he had done for the past.. however long that was.. was just sit there. And he still could not relax fully. But at least he could thank Anurion for being here for him. The younger brother may not realize it, but he had done much to help Aearon, simply by being present. His subtle 'faces' to help remind Aearon he should speak... even the way he had fidgeted a bit, had helped Aearon feel inwardly amused, even if he tried not to show it.

For a moment, the brothers were able to talk between them. Then Togg wandered over. And for a short time, it was only the three of them, while the sisters were fixing dresses, and Abrazimir was speaking to Lady Talven. In those few minutes, Anurion had to struggle with all the self-control he had, not to hit Togg or something.


Dulinneth had been getting so bored that she was wondering whether it would be alright to curl up beside her brother and go to sleep while the grown-ups talked. But finally, the long, long meeting was over. She was probably supposed to be paying attention or something, but she was little and much of the talk went over her head. Someday, she would be the one being discussed like this, but at this time, she was too small to give that much thought, nor to fully realize this fact.

When Anurion left to talk to Aearon, Linn wanted to follow, but Mother had taken her hand as she stood up, and now she looked after the boys while trying not to pout. They were going to go off to see the river thingy, and she would be stuck here with mother! It wasn't fair. She tugged her mother's hand lightly, hoping to ask again if she could go with them, but she was busy talking eagerly with Lady Dimaethor now, gushing about what a great couple they would be, and how beautiful the bride would be, and blah blah blah. Linn sighed. She wanted to go play!

Fortunately, a knight (without shining armor, for the moment) came to her rescue. As her mother let Zorzimril scoop her up, Linn giggled happily. But she remembered her manners, too. "Thank you." She responded, smiling at the compliment. "You're both very pretty!" She declared, looking wide-eyed at the two sisters. Such pretty dresses, and shiny jewels and everything. She was fascinated by the jewelry worn by Zorzimril. "What is your name?" She asked, curious. She didn't think she'd heard anyone say it. She then turned and smiled at Azrain. "Are you my sister now?" She wondered, unsure if she'd properly understood it properly. She hadn't really heard anything about her coming to live with them from now on, but she thought Aearon and Anurion had said something, on the way here, about how the law would make them sisters, right?

Then Zorzimril declared that they were also going to get to go to the river thingy! Linn forgot about the confusing sister matter, and looked hopefully at her mother, who, happily, gave her permission. Yay! Linn grinned and clapped her hands happily and beamed back at Abrazimir and Zorzimril, who seemed like heroes to her, now.


Aearon, Anurion, and Togg were standing together still, waiting on Abrazimir to rejoin them. The others would be going up to the guest rooms to rest and refresh themselves before the banquet, but the boys would be going outside. And although he didn't usually like doing things outside, Togg was intending to join them as well.

Aearon gave a little nod of acknowledgement to Abrazimir, telling them that he had obtained the necessary permission. But inwardly he sighed as he turned back to Anurion and Toggornir, being in no mood to have to try and referee between the younger two boys, nor to have to deal with Togg being a nuisance as he usually was. For now, he wasn't being too bad, just giving Aearon a bit of annoying teasing about him getting married, and ignoring Aearon's request for him to be quiet.

Soon, having gotten permission for them to all go to the fort, Abrazimir, Zorzimril, Azrain, and Dulinneth were approaching the three boys. Togg was positioned so that he could see their approach, while the two brothers were facing him. Anurion had just made an innocent suggestion that Togg might prefer to stay here and unpack his things, when Togg spoke up with a seemingly random, unexpected response.
"Well, I don't care what you two say about her," He remarked in an innocent tone. "I think she's pretty."

Confused, Aearon and Anurion looked at him like, 'what?'. It took a second or two before it dawned on them that the Dimaethor siblings were beginning to approach them, although it was difficult to tell whether they were close enough to have heard Togg's comment or not. Obviously, he had deliberately tried to make it seem as if they had been speaking poorly of Lady Azraindil, behind her back! Aearon's eyes widened marginally at this realization, then his face went ever-so-slightly pinker as he desperately hoped that none of them had heard the comment.

Anurion blinked in puzzlement, then it registered what Togg was implying. He clenched his teeth angrily. "How dare you-" He reached out with the intention of grabbing Togg's shirt. He didn't yet know what he was going to do... force an apology out of him? Demand that he retract his words? Fight him? But Aearon's hand was swifter, reaching out to catch Anurion's arm and hold him back.

"Anurion," He spoke sharply, though trying to keep his tone quiet enough not to draw parental attention. Or attention from their hosts. He gave a small shake of his head, looked at Togg briefly with disapproval, then returned his gaze to his brother. "Don't stoop to his level," He murmured in Anurion's ear.

Anurion paused, looking at Aearon with lingering annoyance, and took a deep breath. "Right." He remembered his promise, but he shot a dark look toward Togg, since it was all that he could do without breaking the promise. 'You'd better hope they didn't hear that comment,' he tried to convey, with that look.

Togg merely gave them both an innocent smile and turned to greet the Dimaethor siblings as they drew near. "Ladies Dimaethor, you both look absolutely lovely." He informed them with a smile. "And sir, it was an honor to be seated by you during this very important meeting, concerning the joining of our families." He added to Abrazimir. "I found it very interesting and enlightening, and I'm glad to know that my brother's future is secure, with all of these well-thought plans being made." He smiled at Aearonor.

Anurion rolled his eyes at the fake niceness oozing from Togg's voice, and had to fight to keep from scowling at him. He really hoped the idiot hadn't caused any offence to them, particularly to Azrain. She definitely didn't deserve to have Togg implying that Aearon had said something rude about her looks, and he also didn't want to have any strained relations between their families.

Turning to meet them as they drew near enough to join the trio, Aearon faced them with a faint smile which he hoped didn't show his awkwardness. He thought of a few things he could say to try and explain, or apologize, but how could he say any of them when he didn't know if any of them had even heard Togg's stupid comment? He stood for a moment in silent awkwardness, trying to decide what to do while feeling like he should say something to her. But he couldn't think of the right thing to say. Clearing his throat, he finally managed to speak. "My lady.." He was addressing Azrain. "May I walk with you?" He asked, feeling a little warmer in the face. He would rather walk with Anurion, or even Abrazimir, but he knew it would be expected for him to walk with her. His intended. The prospect of it all seemed dizzying and made his stomach twist up in knots. Not to mention feeling tongue-tied, as well.


As the group set out for the river fort, Anurion briefly fell in step beside Togg, walking at the back of the group as he spoke, trying to keep quiet enough not to be overheard by any of the others. "You really should apologize for that," he muttered.

"For what?" Togg asked, feigning innocence.

"You know what," Anurion growled. "Trying to make Aearon look bad? Really? Today of all days? That is just so... unacceptable." He scowled.

"Don't be so overdramatic, it was only a joke." Togg muttered, rolling his eyes.

"It's not really a joke if no one else finds it funny," Anurion retorted, still keeping his tone quiet. "And it's definitely not funny if someone ends up feeling hurt as a result." He added, nodding toward where Azraindil was walking. Because if she had heard that, she would surely end up feeling very upset and hurt if she was left with the impression that the guy she was supposed to marry didn't think she was pretty. "Seriously, what is wrong with you, anyway?" He asked, frowning. With that, Anurion quickened his stride so that he could get away from him. Before Togg said something that might make him lose his temper again.

"How far is it to the river fort?" Anurion asked Abrazimir, after hurrying to catch up with him. Let Togg trail along at the back. Maybe he'd fall in a hole or something and they wouldn't have to put up with him.

[Arnyn]

@Lantaelen

Hyandaner Kaylin
January - Estate of House Dimaethor, Lond Côl

She grinned lazily when the future Lord of House Dimaethor let out a short laugh at her miss. Kaylin was not in the least bit bothered. It was all part of the game. Her eyes narrowed when the first grape Abrazimir took, was not aimed anywhere else but his own mouth. So the Captain of the ship they were to be training on, was a tease? How entirely unexpected!

"Ahh!" she exclaimed with approval, when Abrazimir landed a grape into a cup on her second row. "Excellent. I was getting thirsty," she smiled, actually looking pleased that her opponent had landed a hit, so to speak. The redhead picked up the cup, raised it toward Abrazimir, and drank it. She took more gulps than he had, and took a little longer - but she still drained it without pause, and made a bit of a show of eating the grape, at the end. "I like your hospitality," she judged, after her mouth was empty.

But Kaylin had had a few cups before their little game began, and her next shot was a testimony to that fact. She laughed at her own miss, snickering as she looked at her opponent. "Well. Looks like I'm leaving it wide open for you," she said, gesturing at her own cups. "Go on. Your turn."

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lady Zorzimril, Lord Abrazimir, & Lady Azraindil Dimaethor
House Dimaethor Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil

While the boys talked, and Abrazimir garnered permission for their little expedition to stretch their legs, the Dimaethor sisters crowded about Dulinneth, marvelling at the adorable child and how well spoken she was. Zorzimril held her snugly in her arms, while Azraindil rubbed the little girl’s arm. They were both so pretty! the little girl declared. What is your name? ”Zorzimril. You can call me Zorzi. Or Aunty.” The elder introduced herself. Then Dulinneth said something astonishing. Are you my sister now? Azraindil’s eyebrows shot up, but she didn’t take offence, smiling kindly. ”Soon.” She promised lightly, thinking perhaps this was a silver lining to it all. She was always the little sister. It might be nice to have a little sister. They could go on so many adventures!

The other brother too. He seemed kindly and playful as well. Azraindil cast them a glance, where they were gathered and talking amongst themselves. About what? Probably about her. They were occasionally glancing at her, having some quiet yet animated discussion. Probably thought she was…weird or eccentric or something. Perhaps even ungainly or ugly! She hated that. What were they talking about?

It was decided though that they would all go, Zorzimril deciding for the girls, refusing to be left out and remain behind as the equivalent of wall décor or ornaments. The two groups conjoined together to depart, the…middle brother complimenting the two sisters as well. Zorzimril…just smiled and nodded at Toggornir. She knew a rehearsed, planned statement when she heard them. She played the same game. Couldn’t sneak a sunrise past a rooster. She had more tact about it though and certainly didn’t use it to be cruel. Zorzimril guessed Toggornir didn’t know a tenth of what he was saying. Abrazimir smiled as well, though he also recalled Anurion’s tale about this one. As long as he behaved from now on…

”Really?” Abrazimir feigned surprise, in a playful manner. ”I was bored stiff.” He said, casting a glance at Aearonor and Anurion and even Azraindil. You all were, don’t lie. Abrazimir then led the way out of the Keep, opening doors and holding them open for everyone. Zorzimril, effortlessly holding Dulinneth, went first, the elder sister giving commentary to the little lass about everything. If the girl wanted to walk on her own, she could as well. Just to be safe though Zorzimril would hold her hand.

They got into the open air, out of the Keep grounds, and into the castle town. Here, the artisans, merchants, the shopkeepers and producers of higher tier goods and commodities dwelt in homes of stone, apart from the vast majority of House Dimaethor subjects who were primarily farmers, extending to the west along the shore, or north along the river. Smithies worked at their forges, tanners worked at their racks, occasionally a soldier or sailor in livery strode by, pausing to step aside and salute the procession of nobles.

My Lady…May I walk with you? Azraindil had been in her own world, caught between anxieties, of doubts, and worries, when Aearonor’s voice cut in. She had been walking alone, behind her sister, ahead of the boys, feeling alone despite being one half of the individuals being honoured today. She startled and looked at him, finding her mouth so dry. She looked away and wet them quickly with her tongue. The silence deepened to an awkward level, four, five, six seconds after he had spoke and offered, seeming like she might refuse. ”Okay,” she managed to say and extended her hand, recalling etiquette, knowing a gentleman had to take it and escort her. She feigned a glance at his face. He seemed kindly. Very polite and soft spoken. Why did that make things more scary? The thought that she might disappoint him perhaps?

She didn’t know what to say to him though. Everyone else was talking, so very easily, and normally she’d be in the thick of it. But today had been overwhelming, from the Sea Walls to the meeting and all. Even out here, she felt so constrained. She walked in silence beside the young man.

Zorzimril pointed out the shops and stores that lined the main road from the Castle to the entrance to Dulinneth. ”Gornion is a woodsman, he makes all sorts of furniture, but in his spare time, he makes lovely little miniatures of horses and animals.” She explained to Dulinneth, marveling at the young girl’s grasp of Sindarin. ”Lamaenor son of Nanor brings a tithe of the juiciest peaches by the castle every ten days. Do you like peaches? What is your favourite fruit? Perhaps we might stop by the bakery too, get some treats. Cheesy buns, muffins, vanilla milk, maybe he will have some rare chocolate.” She indulged Dulinneth, though the latter had been harder to get as the lands south of Gondor became increasingly hostile and closed off, certain supply chains shutting down and closing off.

How far is it to the river fort? Anurion inquired of Abrazimir as they walked, the Swan-Knight leading the group, nodding to those who hailed them and greeted them. ”Oh, about a quarter hour, half hour.” he said, the Fort already visible, it’s taller battlements rising over the out walls of the castle town of House Dimaethor. Beyond, the smudge of House Azrubêl’s Keep was visible as well on the low horizon.

He glanced behind him, pretending to take stock of where everyone was. Zorzimril and Dulinneth immediately behind, Aearonor and Azraindil behind them. Toggonor at the rear. Abrazimir turned back to face forward, though he clapped a hand across Anurion’s back in a friendly gesture. ”You good?” He asked Anurion in a quiet tone, his tone changing, like the more vulgar and hasty tone of sailors. Figured that would appeal to a young boy like Anurion. No strict protocol or rules here. You and your step-brother not getting into it?

They got out of the gates of the castle town and they were momentarily in the open, on a cobblestone path, approaching the guarded gates of the River-Fort. Abrazimir spoke aloud, sharing some history now. ”This Fort was built about two millennia ago, by the ancient predecessors of the Princes of Dol Amroth. One of our ancestors, from a knightly lineage that goes all the way back to Númenór, became it’s first castellan. The position became hereditary and after some time, a descendant of that castellan built himself a villa which became his home. Can’t blame him, having your home dissected in two by a river must not be tolerable.” Abrazimir chuckled understandably.

He left out the bit about his family…choosing the wrong side in the Kin-Strife, backing Castamir, who was later defeated. All adult Dimaethors perished in the war, leading to only a child becoming ruler of Lond Côl. But the boy could not maintain his power and the family’s influence waned, allowing House Azrubêl to enter the picture, acquire the territories across the river, and become a bulwark of loyalist support. And the two families have shared control and maintenance of the River-Fort since then.

One could argue House Dimaethor had not, or never could, recover that ancient prestige or power.

They entered through the gates, normally forbidden to civilians, with mercantile ships passing up and down the Ringló were pulled over for inspection and tolls. Dimaethor men controlled this half, Azrubêl men the other half. It’s primary feature of defence was a power chain that could be raised to impede passage up the river, shearing the bottom off any vessel that tried to force it’s way inwards. It had a proven track record of repelling Corsairs and other pirates in the past. As per Abrazimir’s remarks earlier, the River-Fort Keep was dissected in two, on both halves, with messages and transportation across conducted by a fleet of small vessels moored on both sides of the river in the center of the Fortress.

The group entered and then went up a long staircase on the inner side of the battlements, ascending to the very top where they could look down on both sides of the river. ”Enjoy the view.” Abrazimir beckoned them. Zorzimril seated Dulinneth in the gap between crenellations, so that she could see over. To the east and west, the castles and adjacent towns of each House, with wilderness further beyond. To the North, the ribbon of the river continued up to Edhellond, where it was joined by the Morthond, with vast forest and fields all about. To the south, the endless sea, and where Númenór used to be…

[Ercassie]

@lantaelen

Lady Ilisys Azrubêl with Lord Abrazimir Dimaethor
at her Uncle’s city House, in Dol Amroth. Six years ago – FLASHBACK
Continued from THIS POST

Despite his jesting, the young Lord stood before her was doubtless already the cause of countless ladies losing sleep .. all over Dol Amroth. With fluttering hearts and thrills of thought to keep them from fair rest. Isys just about managed to rein in her humour at the thought of stating so aloud. Did the man not realise how lauded he was about the city ? Or was that modesty all a part of his charm ? Here he sat, with a sup and a smile, and she was all too well aware that any other maiden in the land would have nigh swooned to be stood in such a position of confidence as that which persisted between them.

Abrazimir had though misconstrued her request, ever so slightly. Either due to the wine or the hour, or more likely due to the fact that she had not rightly explained the whole situation. And it seemed that she must. For he appeared to assume that she did not wish for even the men aboard his ship to be aware of her taking their passage with them ! Had she made it sound as though she was proposing to stowaway about his ship in secret ? To hide in some shut away cabin rather than enjoy the spray of the salt air from on deck, as the vessel surged and yawed ? Or that he ought expect for his entire crew to never speak of her having stood as passenger aboard their vessel ? Indeed that would be as difficult to pull off as it would be dangerous to attempt. People would think they had something to hide !


“How like you, to deny a lady nothing,” A small smile unfolded at the recognition of his answer. For if Isys had been astounded that her kinsman would think she’d even ask such a thing of him, she ought be at least equally surprised that he had agreed to it then. Risking his reputation as a gentleman ? The ease with which she had been gifted such an unlooked for indulgence was quite terrifying. “Though what I have in mind may have some bearing on your reputation, I would have it raise rather than ruin either or the both of us,,” she elaborated gently, her formality loosened slightly, since there was none but the two of them to hear. “There are aspects of my asking, you have not yet heard. Their reason is a subject difficult for me to speak on. So I must entrust you, Abrazi. Our secret. Yes ?”

She could almost imagine the dual force of Warder and Lotte shaking their heads. But they could not aid her in this. They did not have a ship, he did. And she trusted Abrazimir. She had simply never trusted him with something of this magnitude before now.


“First, to know, a man pleaded an audience with my Uncle, here in Dol Amroth, while we were engaged with the tilts. He gave his name as Mudron, and he came to us, revealing horrific burns that adorn more than half of his body. He said these were result of the dreadful ship blaze .. years ago.”

There was no need to further clarify the historic event. Though the Lord beside her had been merely hours old at the time, his birth had in fact spared his entire family from having attended the party turned disaster. Countless other lives had not been so fortunate, or spared. Amongst their hapless number, the Lady’s own father Araldur, eldest son and heir to his patriarch in turn, Lord Isilmir Azrubel. Two ruling generations of their house had been lost in the turn of one frightful night. The fallout, her unassuming Uncle Edhelmir being left to take up of the estate instead, had affected the entirety of their conjoined estuary and nobody in Lond Col would ever forget it. The lady had been but ten years old at the time of the malady, and still often relived the disaster in dreams as though it was but yesterday.


“Mudron begged a kindness of us, to take passage with the next of our ships which were headed to the Harbour of Harlond. He claimed he wished to seek out a specific treatment from the healers there, the best experts who might manage to improve his physical and mental outlook. He claimed to have saved up by now the coin for this treatment, but not also for the fare to the White City. All of which My Uncle found a fair request, especially since the ‘Aracol’ was heading there anyway. ”

Ilisys paused there, and rose to cross the room and run one hand along a perfectly dusted mantel. So far the tale had sounded as mellow as no doubt the spinner had hoped. So there might be wonder spent on why the lady’s alabaster brow wore a troubled expression. Where only exudings of great joy were expected to be found there. Given the recent triumphs. This raking over the old wounds was not an easy or pleasant experience. And the most difficult part of it was still to be shared.


“Second is a man, who came here only this eve. A different man to the first, an acquaintance of mine,” Lips trembled to even dare the word aloud. 'Acquaintance' .. So she did their best to manage a retraction, without speaking false. “He is an appraiser here in Dol Amroth,” she waved her hand which was closest to the lord, idly, as though the reference was nothing. “You may have heard the name, Menilzir .. He was recovered by our people from a cruel fate at a corsair oar after a count of many years. He saw this Mudron boarding the ‘Aracol’ and was aghast, having recognised the man,” Isys had hastened her account ever faster to rush through the matters of this second man, and return to the first.

“He recognised Mudron as being an Umbarian. Of the House Halsad,” Somehow Isys managed to speak the name without betraying the emotion that it evoked in her heart. “He hastened here to report his concerns to me, and I must admit I do not recall ever knowing the name Mudron before. My mother delivered recompense to all those who survived or suffered from the ‘Crimson Moon’. I helped her carry out those visits. We met with many, we made a point of checking if the injured required anything .. If I had been here, I might have advised my Uncle of the doubt. But the joust ..” she frowned.


All of the people who had counselled her against competing. All those who had said no good could come of it. Was this her punishment ? If she had been here, if she had not been .. doing that. If her Uncle had not been so gentle hearted that he could not refuse a soul in need …

“If the appraiser speaks true, and I can not imagine why he would make this up else, then there is a very real chance that this ‘Mudron’ may well have been at hand, when Salukhatar Halsad sank the captured ‘Crimson Moon’. But as a murderer’s accomplice, rather than as the victim that he has claimed to be.”

Isys paused for time enough that the lord could take sense and stock of the facts she was sharing with him. “My hope,” she eventually clarified, “is to come to where the ‘Aracol’ is scheduled to dock, in Harlond, to ascertain that she has in fact arrived there safely, and that all is well with her crew and cargo. Then to have them safely returned here,” she laid her aim out, slowly. For the man to consider. “If the suspect Mudron turns out to be what my associate fears, we may also bring an enemy of the state home in chains,” she supposed, with hope not only to entice Abrazi, but to know justice indeed. “So if you assist me in the passage to get there and find him, you will be conducting a service to Gondor, to Lond Col. Your deed would be heroic, rather than underhand. And all shall be as it ought be. But there is more.”


This man, this knight, this sailor, soldier … he was able, willing, and in her eyes yet still so young. Though she held a decade of years over him, was it fair to view him still as innocent, when he was now full grown ? A capable captain already and a most formidable campaigner for their nation in the making .. Did he need this new wreath of renown to adorn his name ? Would he understand why she was asking ? It took another moment of consideration before the lady allowed Abrazi such a confidence as she would share with such a small few, they could be counted upon the fingers of one hand.

“The reason that I can not tell my Uncle of my plan to go after the ‘Aracol’, is not only because it would raise a great hurt and shame in him for having maybe put faith in the wrong man. But also because of how I came aware of the plot which I seek to thwart.” Grey eyes could not find his as she explained. They fed their entire focus into her small slippers. Hardly the garb of a mighty warrior in search of justice. But right now, she was stood in her family’s residence, in an evening dress, asking a brave man to be as brave as she felt she must now. To tell him. She trusted him with her life. But with this ?


“The appraiser here in Dol Amroth .. he and I shared a dance, a time back, at the spring ball in court. My mother was witness, and did not favour the match. If I so much as mention him as the source of this information, my Uncle shall be distracted by all concerns of why and when I was speaking with the man, and what if my mother might find out .. which shall cause a most disagreeable delay. We simply do not have the time," she subtly employed the use of 'we', as though they two were already equally as invested. "The last time that any Halsad set foot on our any vessel, lives were forfeit. It must not be an act ever repeated.” Isys raised her eyes to find what state she might have rendered dear Abrazi unto, after all that news. If she were fortunate then he might recall of all this, her defiance and wrath with more definition than the hastened mentions of what difficulties a lady must face in their society.

“If we merely let it be known that I randomly took to Harlond with you for a pleasant jaunt, no one would think anything at all of it. If we just ‘incidentally’ happened upon the ‘Aracol’ whilst there ?” She left her question without an apparent answer, hoping that the man’s mind was able to find it for himself. “It is the safest course, in my opinion. The swiftest course with the least ... delay. But I would of course have your opinion, in full understanding. And your word else that what has been broached between us tonight shall remain a secret, if I am forced to seek out some other means of executing my endeavour. For the House of Halsad have done such damage to us, that it is my responsibility as much as it is my desire, to not allow them a second strike.”

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

Talven/Taurhebor Children
(oldest to youngest)

Anurion struggled to hide a grin of amusement when Abrazimir declared that he had been 'bored stiff'. The look on Togg's face told Anurion that although the boy put on a smile, he was trying not to be annoyed that he did not get the response he had hoped for.

Aearon, meanwhile, offered a weak smile back to the swan knight. After all, it was rather tricky. He couldn't exactly deny that he had been bored to death, but he also didn't want to be rude or seem as if he didn't find the plans for his and Lady Azraindil's future to be interesting enough to hold his attention.

Aearon also couldn't help thinking that the other guy was very fortunate. It didn't seem to Aearon like Abrazimir had been forced into any marriage. At least, if the knight was betrothed to anyone, Aearon hadn't heard anything about it. He didn't know why it was that some people, like Aearon, got cornered into these things, while others, like Abrazimir, got to pursue their desires. Today, it seemed more tempting than ever to run off and join the rangers. Not that he would really do that. Too much responsibility had been thrown onto his shoulders. Too much relied on him stepping in and taking his rightful place when the time came. He knew that. And therefore, he couldn't abandon his duty to his family, their land, and the people who lived and worked on that land. Not to mention his duty to Gondor and the Steward.

As they set off toward their goal, and Aearon made his first attempt at breaking the ice between himself and his future bride, he was left hanging. For.. an awkward length of time. He felt his face beginning to warm, and he just knew, although he couldn't hear him, that Togg was probably snickering at the apparent rejection. He was starting to worry. Maybe she was shunning him? Maybe she'd heard Togg's stupid comment, and she really thought they'd been talking about her? Maybe...

Then, finally, as his mind was starting to race with all the possibilities... she accepted. Aearon tried not to be obvious about it as he let out a little breath of relief. With a tiny smile, he accepted her offered hand. And then... he found no words to say as they walked in silence for a little bit. He was glad he had remembered his mother's instructions to wear gloves if he was going to hold her hand or something. He had put them on just before approaching her to ask if he might walk with her. He was glad, because his hands were starting to feel a bit sweaty. Of course, it could have been the gloves' fault, but at least they should prevent her from noticing.. unless it got so bad that the sweat soaked through the fabric. He tried not to worry about that. Still, he could think of nothing really to say, while everyone around them seemed to have struck up conversations.

Linn was quite happy to be carried, for now. She listened eagerly to all that Zorzi said about the people. "Oooh, carved animals!" She wanted to see some! But it didn't sound like they were going that way. She tried to imagine the juiciest peaches, but she couldn't quite imagine it. "I don't know," She answered, frowning as she tried to decide which fruits she liked best. "I can't decide. I'm not sure I've had peaches, though." She tried to recall. "We have pear trees by our house." She declared proudly, as if this made up for her lack of knowledge about peaches. "What's van..vanlina?" She frowned as she tried to pronounce the unfamiliar word.

"Vanilla," Togg corrected his little half-sister, having caught up with them so he would not be too far behind the group. "It's a very expensive sort of bean that comes from an island in the South." He had read that somewhere, once. "It's about as hard to come by as chocolate, because of all the corsair activity."

Linn thought about that. "Beans? I'd rather have chocolate." She decided, grinning. "If there is any." They hadn't had chocolate in a while, as it was also rather expensive and harder to come by.

"They're both beans." Togg pointed out. He would have rolled his eyes at her, but he remembered the Dimaethor siblings were present, so he smiled at the girl instead. "Of course, you're too young to know very much about those things." He added, as if in understanding.

Anurion, meanwhile, was a bit surprised by the clap on the shoulders, but he smiled atthe knight asked if he was 'good', pleased by a sense of camaraderie already present between them. "Yes, sir." He answered, smiling. "All is well." He assured him. Although he would rather Togg was not there, he figured it should be fine as long as he stayed away from him as much as possible. He began looking around as they walked, listening to the history of the place. It was interesting, hearing about their origins and all. Especially, when he considered that they would eventually be 'in-laws' with his own family. He would probably be expected to learn all about the Dimaethors, before that happened. At least, hearing about it now from Abrazimir, it didn't sound like schoolwork.

At last, they arrived at the river fort, and climbed up a long staircase. Anurion was eager to get to be at the front with Abrazimir. He grinned, looking around from up high. It would be an excellent place to climb, maybe! He looked to see where Aearon was, and realized that maybe now was not the best time to start chatting with his brother about the place's climbing potential.

Aearon had found it difficult to think of anything to say for the entire trip, which made him feel awkward. But he listened to Abrazimir talking about the family history. He tried to think of something to say to Azraindil, concerning her ancestor's accomplishments. But every time he considered saying something, he thought it would just end up sounding dumb, or he'd worry about how she would respond. So he decided against saying anything, and they walked in silence.

As they began to climb the stairs, he did his best to be a proper gentleman, and wordlessly held onto her hand in a way that would provide her with support if she needed it, so that he became a 'handrail' for her to hold onto as they ascended the long stairs. It occurred to him, only once they reached the top, that this was her home, and that she had probably climbed these stairs hundreds of times without his aid... and maybe she would be annoyed that he had treated her as if she needed the help. But it was too late to undo it now. With his grip loose enough that she could withdraw her hand from his if she wished, Aearon turned to look at the view and smiled faintly, in spite of the butterflies swarming around in his stomach. "It's a lovely view," He managed to say quietly, admiring the scene of the river and the distant forest, and the sea to the south.

Linn was awed by the scene that met her, after being set on the top of the wall. She pointed out to the south. "Is that the sea?" She asked, wide-eyed. She had never seen it until today, and she'd only seen a little bit when they were getting off their boat to come up to the castle. Seeing it now, from up so high, it was a very different sort of sight, and very much more impressive than before. "There's so much water! Where does it end?" She wondered in amazement.

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lady Zorzimril, Lord Abrazimir, & Lady Azraindil Dimaethor
House Dimaethor Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil

At the top of the battlements, the group split into three, each taking an opening among the crenellations to peer southwards and eastwards to the mouths of the Ringló and the vast sea stretching across the entire horizon in that direction. Endlessly. Blue sea going out far, the blue sky above meeting, or seeming to meet, at some distant point. Zorzimril, with Dulinneth seated upon the stone block, Abrazimir with Anurion and Toggornir, and the newly betrothed by themselves at the end. Each seemed in their own bubble of chatter and easy distraction.

Not them.

Abrazimir was describing how the sea-chain worked to Anurion and Toggornir, using his hands as emphasis, one hand as an attacking vessel, his other hand as the chain. ”…the iron links shear away the bottom of the vessel, causing it to take on water and sink down. Sometimes it gets caught, and clogs up the river, so that other ships behind crash up and get stuck there too. The defenders can easily rain down javelins, arrows, stones, upon the attackers. There hasn’t been a battle though for some centuries. Umm, the last time, I think in the twenty-seven hundreds. The Corsairs made an attempt on Dol Amroth and slew the Prince at the time. Terrible business…”

And while the boys talked about recent, practical history, that could be confirmed and dated, on the far side of them Zorzimril regaled Dulinneth with (supposed) myth about the sea and it’s legends. That’s where Azraindil would rather be. ”The Sea circles the whole world.” Zorzimril explained to Linny. ”And it is the Kingdom of Ulmo and his lieutenants, Uinen and her Husband. Do you know about them? But on the other side, if you sail for a very long time, you come to Elvenhome, a beautiful green land under a great sunrise. And beyond, the homes and thrones of the Valar. Where time is still and everything is in Springtide.”

But all that was just myth, legend, and fairy tales, told by successive generations of the Faithful here in Gondor and other lands where the Exiles of Westernesse called home after the Downfall.

But between the newly betrothed, silence reigned. Azraindil felt suffocated in her garments, by the nearby presence of her siblings and Aearonor’s siblings, even if they weren’t crowding her or surrounding her. What was going on? Why did it feel like the death of youth and innocence and all her free time and imaginations? Colour seemed to drain and would be fully gone by sunset, never to return, even if the Sun came back up again the next day. She had no inkling of what to expect with marriage, even if she had such examples such as her parents or the Taurhebor-Talven parents. There was too much being thrust upon her. Married off for some deal or business contract or something. She just couldn’t comprehend.

They were still holding hands but she felt numb to it. Indeed, she would have dragged her feet and gone resolute if something hadn’t been along to guide her. Her eyes were open but she wasn’t really seeing. It wasn’t until he spoke, voice so gentle and calm, that her reprieve was cut through and she startled, looking up at him in surprise, enough to beat out her previous fear of looking at Aearonor’s face. It wasn’t such a bad face. Nothing weird…like pincers or horns or ragged, yellow teeth. It’s a lovely view he commented. It must be his first time looking. Azraindil had been here plenty of times.

She withdrew her hand and folded it with her other before her stomach, as if to calm the butterflies of anxiety and fright there. Her eyes darted about a moment in nervousness. But anything was better than an awkward silence. She hated that. The sea…the sea was always making noise. Almost as if it was scared of the silence of it’s own depths. She was starting to feel the same. So…say something. Say anything.

”I…prefer the northern view. It’s not so final or ending.” She said, turning her back to the sea, and pointing in the opposite direction. That way…was fields, forests, the bending ribbon of the river, and more land, until it stretched to the horizon and more. His family had come that way, hadn’t they? That direction, there was life and possibilities. The sea was the sea. The end of the world. Only elves could go that way, they said. And they had all gone already.

And one could, along the battlements, walk along this western wall to the far end of the River-Fort and gaze northwards. Would the older siblings let them?

”You came from that way? By boat?” She asked Aearonor, switching to the more familiar and comforting Sindarin tongue. ”Was it a long journey? How many days?” How many days will I be taken away from my home and family? But at least she was looking at him, half turned towards him, even if she faced a direction opposite to where everyone else was facing.

[Lantaelen]

@ercassie

Lord Abrazimir Dimaethor
Dol Amroth, six years ago – Flashback

He had yet to know the true depths of the request being asked of him. His smile at her jest of denying a Lady nothing was sly and confident. Isys assured him though what she had in mind would not sully his reputation in any way but rather potentially improve upon it. How could he deny her now if he had much to gain? But he knew, nothing worth gaining or earning in this world came without a great deal of risk. There would be a caveat. And he needed his senses and wits about him, no matter the volume of alcohol imbibed or the late hour.

”Our secret.” He reiterated after her, to assure her that it would remain so, a sort of solemn vow he was making. Secrets could be easy to keep or the most dangerous. He shifted and got comfortable as Isys began her tale. He crossed a leg over the other at the knee, both hands wrapping about the cap of it, as his eyes rested upon her. He made the appropriate sounds and noises to show he was attentive and acknowledging parts of her tale. Mudron? Eyebrows raised, he did not know the name. Horrific burns? ”Oof.” Not an uncommon tragedy for sailors. But as he would come to find out…Mudron was no comrade of theirs to be shown sympathy or pity.

He fell silent soon after, ceasing his remarks both playful and sympathetic, as she came to the crux of the situation. Isys told the tale of Mudron’s plea for assistance and kindness, to go to Harlond and perhaps up to the White City to seek the aid of the healers there, upon the Azrubêl flagship, Aracol. He was a survivor, it seemed, of the Crimson Moon sinking and all, so there was a commonality shared there. Okay, that was part one. Part two…

Menilzir. Isys spoke rapidly at this part, not allowing Abrazimir a chance to ponder or reflect on the name. It felt familiar. He did not notice the acute discomfort of his companion, her trembling lips, the fugitive eyes, the uncomfortable gesturing. An appraiser? Of what kind and manner? Jewelry? The Dimaethors had very little and what they did have was given over to their womenfolk. Abrazimir wore none, only destined perhaps to wear his father’s signet ring when it came his time to helm the fortunes of House Dimaethor. May that day be long in the coming though. This Menilzir was a survivor of Corsair assaults, again something Abrazimir could empathize with. Another thing he would later discover was no less worthy of his pity than Mudron’s situation.

Now, the two parts intersected, part three, as Isys explained that Menilzir beheld Mudron, and recognized him…as an Umbarin. The realization struck Abrazimir and he uncrossed his leg, sitting up straight, rapt and much more attentive, hands at his side. Mudron it seemed was a spy, and he had gone abroad the Aracol, unbeknownst to the crew. By the Valar, what havoc and chaos he might wrought from the inside abroad such a stronghold of a ship! Indeed, as a survivor of the Crimson Moon incident, Isys and her mother should have known him. But they didn’t, perhaps distracted by their grief, something they should be held blameless for.

Abrazimir had been but a babe at the time of that tragedy, hardly able to form a sound beyond the incoherent babbling of newborns. But he had heard the tale afterwards, from his family, and hers, and others who had witnessed it or been contemporary to it. He felt for Isys, to lose her father, and her grandfather, and much of her kin and folk, in such a fateful and terrible scene. And the ones responsible. Mudron, and his master, whom Abrazimir refused to speak his name without spitting or cursing, something he would not do in the abode of a Lady.

Abrazimir had no acknowledgements, no grunts of affirmation or nods or other remarks. His stare was hard. His hands were clenched. Go on… He was starting to understand what would be required of him but best he hear it from Isys, and what her parameters were, because if he had his way on this…

His guess was true. She required his help, his vessel, to speed on to Harlond, to check on the Aracol and if possible, apprehend this spy within their ranks and bring him back in chains. Or an iron cage. She could not tell her Uncle though for twofold reasons. The first was to protect his reputation and standing, to not make false accusations or if it indeed be true, not to have been fooled. The other reason would surprise him however, for Isys had, in the past…shared a dance with the informant Menilzir. That blunted his righteous anger with surprise. Really? Just a dance? His eyebrows piqued and he leaned back, hands released. Just a dance.

Harmless enough. Abrazimir danced with plenty of ladies. It did not really mean anything. Could be just light fun. Could be a spur of the moment. But perhaps, yes, it was different from a woman’s perspective, with all societal expectations put on them, much more severe and judgemental than those on the menfolk.

Not a shred of thought was given to her use of the word we, as if he had given his consent. That much should already be obvious. Abrazimir was a young Swan Knight, eager to make his bones, and prove his valour, almost to a point of recklessness. Maybe that’s what made him so easily manipulated for such deeds and tasks. Or understanding to her needs. She must have been where he had been years ago, when she was a fresh faced Swan Knight of Dol Amroth, with the eagerness to prove oneself, and serve, and strike back at an indomitable enemy that seemed to hem their Realm on all sides.

Traveling with him provided much coverage to their superiors and elders. They were well known to one another and each other’s families. No one would think anything untoward was going on. They could be trusted as each other’s chaperones on such a ‘jaunt’. She concluded with a plea for his word in secrecy, if not his assistance, and he could feel her resolve and determination not to let those…motherless bastards of House Halsad continue to cause death and grievance upon their home and families with impunity.

Isys fell silent and Abrazimir averted his eyes, indeed taking serious thought, though he felt his mind was already made up. There was no pushback or counter-deliberation in his mind. Could he just…up and depart Dol Amroth for a week long trip to Harlond? That’s how long it would be, right? Three days up the Anduin, a day or two in Harlond, three days back home. His duties, his obligations, to home and the Prince, it would be strained, but not cause for offense or insubordination. He could manage it. It seemed possible. And if they did succeed in preventing disaster, he might even be rewarded. Both of them.

Abrazimir sucked in a sharp breath, held it, then slowly exhaled through his nose, closing his eyes and reopening them, sea-grey eyes meeting those of his companion across the lounge.

”My word, you have, without a doubt. But better, my services you possess as well.” Abrazimir said at first, wanting to put Isys at ease as soon as possible. It meant a lot to her. And perhaps it would be a strong step to both understanding what happened to her father and moreover…avenging what happened to her kin. Abrazimir’s father always spoke of the friendship between himself and Araldur. Abrazimir wanted to honour the alliance between their Houses in more ways than one it seemed. And that reason and justification would be a good shield too against his father when they returned from this quest, whether it was proven or not.

He then shrugged, hands and arms spread to the side. ”My opinion, what more can I say?” He dropped his hands back to his side. ”You have underlined to me the necessity for haste and for urgency. Lives are at risk and you have a very good lead as to the why and how. Even if we were not friends, not comrades or allies, I would be committed to this endeavour. I believe your confidence and resolution on this Mudron. Say no more, Isys. Let’s go and get him.” Abrazimir said and slapped his hand upon the cushion of the couch next to him, like a judge making a decree.

”We can set off as soon as you are ready. For myself…I’ll sleep on the way there.” Abrazimir offered her an encouraging smile. Let there be no more delay!

---

Any other details could be worked out on the voyage, for there would be lots of time. This Mudron, their prime suspect, Abrazimir asked and racked Isys’ mind for all the information she might have. Had she met him before, perhaps prior to when he came seeking passage on the Aracol. What did he look like? His age and build? His face and hair and any other remarkable features. But of course, if he was a spy, he must be a skilled one, and able to change his appearance and identity on the fly. Much would have to be played by ear, so to speak. But he hoped Isys could recognize him if encountered again.

He at least did not mention Menilzir again. Not unless Isys brought him up first.

The Gaeramar was indeed a fast vessel. Not bulky and heavy like a warship, more for reconnaissance and scouting. Abrazimir predicted a voyage of three days. It ended up taking three nights and two days, with them arriving in Harlond well before the dawn, in the darkest hours of the night. The western shore of the Anduin was dotted with various lights from watchtowers, farmsteads, homes, and the occasional torch-carrying traveler on the road. The eastern shore was pitch black.

All throughout the voyage northwards, Abrazimir and Isys had kept an eye out, in case they might see signs of the Aracol as they sailed up the Great River, whether passing down or…signage of a wreck, if a wreck might ever be found in the wide, deep waters of the Anduin, which flowed swiftly and relentlessly down into the Great Sea. There had been no sign, which was neither good news nor bad. Good, in that it might still be docked in Harlond. Bad…in that it might already be overcome and destroyed.

Now they were finally come to Harlond, the destination of their journey, and in the dark it could still be glimpsed many ships both great and small moored at harbour there. Cloak and hood up, the night breeze was still cold and striking, but they could not spare any delay in searching for the Aracol. ”Any sight of your ship?” Abrazimir asked Isys as they silently sailed up the row of parked vessels, trying to see if he might recognize the ship and make of her family flagship among those present.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

Talven/Taurhebor Children
(oldest to youngest)

Anurion made sure to stand on the other side of Abrazimir from where Togg was, so he wouldn't be as likely to get into it with his stepbrother. He listened with great interest to the tale about the battle, and how the chain worked to defend the river. "How do they get the river unstuck, after?" He wondered. "Can we throw a javelin?" He asked with a grin, as a second thought.

"That would be wasteful, throwing a javelin down at the water, for no reason." Togg rolled his eyes. "What would you even throw it at, anyway? There's no enemies down there."

"I could throw it at you," Anurion mumbled under his breath, before clearing his throat and focused again on Abrazimir. "I just want to see if I could throw a javelin that far," He shrugged. "But I don't guess there are any around."

"I would rather find out how far I can shoot an arrow." Togg mentioned. He looked curiously at the swan knight. "I don't suppose we could try that, could we?" He wondered.

---

Meanwhile, Linn's eyes grew rounder and rounder as she heard the tale of the Elvenhome, and how everything was green and beautiful. "I wish I could see it. Did you ever meet any elves? I wanna meet one someday." She pointed out as far as she could see. "Can we see it from here? Is it very far?" She asked. "I wonder if our boat could go there?"

Then she paused as she thought about something else Zorzi had said. "Wait. If the sea circles the whole world, how is there land for us to be on? Does that mean there's no other land, anywhere besides here?"

---

As for Aearon, he was struggling to come up with anything to talk about with the girl he didn't know, who would become his wife someday. That... somehow did not seem promising. How could they possibly form a life together if they couldn't even come up with two words to say to each other? The whole thing seemed very discouraging.

Her hand in his felt very strange, and he couldn't help worrying that he'd end up sweating through his glove and she'd be grossed out by it. He wasn't sure if his comment would result in any sort of reply. The silence was growing more and more awkward, and he starting to feel very anxious for her to say... anything. So, when she finally responded to his comment, Aearon had a hard time not sighing in relief. He was also somewhat glad when she pulled her hand away, so he was able to clasp his hands behind his back, as if to keep them to himself.

She preferred the northern view? He turned as she did, managing a faint smile despite his uneasiness. "I prefer this view, as well." He admitted quietly. The forests, with the river cutting through it, rather than the endless sea which was unfamiliar to him. Ironic, that his name meant 'man of the sea'. It didn't change the fact that he preferred the forest. To the north lay his home, and while it was nice to go away for a bit, he was already missing it. He really just wanted to get back on the boat and set off at top speed, back to the estate. He wanted to go off into the woods and stay there, hiding from all his duties and responsibilities. But he knew that would never be acceptable, and his mother would be highly disappointed in him, if he didn't do as he was expected to do.

The girl's following question surprised him slightly, and he gave a small smile as he also switched to Sindarin. "Yes. Up the river, that's where my home lies. Unfortunately, you cannot see it from here." He answered, pointing with one hand in the correct direction. "It took about half a day, actually." He added, in response to how long it took him, then he hesitated. Would she find this topic boring? Or was this something she would find interesting? He glanced at her, wondering how he could be expected to marry someone so much younger than himself. She must be about the same age as Anurion! That would put her being at least three years younger than him. She was still a child, compared to him!

He felt his face grow a little warmer at those thoughts and he looked away again, back toward the river. Trying not to think too much about the future. "Our boat... the Galaduin... it is a sort of new design, powered by horses. That is, they sort of.. go in a circle, and therefore turn this big wheel, which then turns the big paddle-wheel you see at the back. And that makes it travel quite swiftly. The boat, I mean. Not the wheel." He explained, feeling awkward as he tried not to get carried away talking about the mechanics of the boat, which he found very interesting. But he didn't know if she'd find it interesting enough to spend much time talking about it. "It's... probably all very boring, but I could show it to you sometime, if you like." He offered, as that seemed polite. If she was not interested, she could turn him down and he would know that she did not find this topic interesting. And if she didn't, then he wouldn't bring it up again.

[Rillewen]

@Eldrith

Strawberry
Late September, 4th age, year 1
Somewhere along the river Morthond, nearing the White Mountains

In the shelter of a natural little cove of rock overhang, a little campfire burned merrily. It was visible for a good distance, now that darkness had settled in over the land. The river flowed silently by, several yards beyond the campsite. There was nothing too unusual about it, really. A bedroll was spread out near the fire, with a form seemingly asleep within. To anyone passing by, it appeared that a traveler had simply made camp for the night, sleeping soundly by the warmth of the fire. Although the rain had stopped a few hours ago, it was a chilly, damp night, so one could hardly blame a traveler for sleeping by a fire, in the shelter of the rock overhang.

But this traveler was not asleep. Nor was she even by her fire. Instead, she waited out of sight, in the shadows behind a cluster of rocks outside of the shelter. She was wrapped up in a dark, waxed cloak to keep out the wetness while also helping her blend in with the shadows and the shape of the rock cluster. Beneath the cloak, she was dressed in warm layers to keep warm. Her long, red hair was braided and tucked under her cap, and a few traps had been carefully placed, ensuring that anyone carelessly approaching the 'sleeping form' would end up regretting it.

In fact, she was expecting some 'company'. And she intended to be ready for him when he arrived. She was sure that nobleman must have gotten her message by now. He must have. And she didn't think she was overestimating his desire to capture her. Although he had yet to catch up to her, she wasn't taking any chances. She intended to be the one doing the capturing. She'd decide later what to do with him, but that wasn't an issue, yet.

She watched her decoy camp with alert green eyes, wondering if she was waiting for nothing. Maybe he had decided to ignore her invitation to come and get her? What if he'd decided to remain until the end of that event? Was she sitting out in the cold for nothing? She frowned. 'Am I getting as paranoid as Gwand?' She wondered in her thoughts. But no, that didn't seem like her adversary. He wouldn't give up that easily, and she'd literally invited him to come after her, this time. He wouldn't pass up that opportunity, but the question was... how cautious would he be? She pondered that, deciding maybe she should have been more subtle about it.

Suddenly, a twig snapped somewhere in the forest. Strawberry turned her head swiftly, tensing as she waited to find out if that was her expected 'guest' approaching. But then it turned out to be a deer, seeking something yummy to eat. She relaxed, half-relieved, half-disappointed. 'I'm getting too jumpy,' she mentally berated herself, releasing a silent sigh as she shifted into a more comfortable position. She was prepared to wait the entire night if she must...


(I found a few images to give the idea of the sort of natural rock shelter i had in mind: 1 2 3)

[Eldrith]

The Contact
Late September, 4th age, year 1
Somewhere along the river Morthond, nearing the White Mountains

You were jumpy as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Hypervigilant and likely out of your element. That was fine. This wasn't exactly the sort of thing he frequently did himself. Still he'd been told he could find you around these parts and to offer a 'message'. And he knew well to do what he was told, no matter if he'd long ago left the White City. Some ties might stretch, but they didn't break. He'd retired. Mostly. He did odd jobs now and again, and if there was a need to get something in or out, he lent a hand still with the old crew. One never fully retired.

It might surprise you to see someone approach who was not attempting to sneak up. In fact the figure that you could see approaching the camp site from afar, doing it seems whatever needed to be done NOT to sneak up, which included a few solid kicks against a rock, while looking at the sleeping form.

Considering he was far from that circle of fire near the form on the blanket roll it might be harder to make him out. A man, most likely. Tall or tallish. Clad in the way a traveler in these parts would be: sensible, with heavy wool, and tightwoven cloth to keep the rain at bay. Something in his step would betray him to be older. In his forties or fifties perhaps, not a youth to be certain. He looked around, then reached down to grab a handful of smaller rocks, barely more than pebbles.

In a gesture that betrayed that despite a greater age, there was still strength in the approaching form, he threw the stones towards the rocky overhang, as if hoping to wake the sleeping traveler. And then he stood. And waited.


@Rillewen

[Rillewen]

@Eldrith

Strawberry
Late September, 4th age, year 1
Somewhere along the river Morthond, nearing the White Mountains

It seemed that someone had been drawn toward her campfire. She stilled her motions, having just finished repositioning, and focused her gaze toward the approaching figure. The deer quickly wandered away in case that was some hunter coming to attack it. Strawberry held her breath as she observed the figure's approach. At first, it was only a shadow, moving in this direction. Kicking at rocks, making noise. Making their approach obvious.

Strange. She frowned thoughtfully as the figure drew nearer, and soon she could tell enough to be sure it was a man. But not the man she had been expecting. Not at all. He wasn't the right build, nor did he seem to be of the right age to be the one who was after her. In fact... wait, no. That couldn't be Gwand, could it? Due to the darkness around, she couldn't see this person's face, but she could guess him to be around his forties or so. Same as her friend from the city. And who else but a ranger would have been able to track her down after all this time, except for the other person she'd been expecting? Who else but he would have any reason to?

Staring through the dark, she thought swiftly. If it was him, then.. what did that mean? Was there something he needed to tell her? Had he come after her, perhaps to help her? Or to let her know something important, maybe? A part of her was halfway hoping it would turn out to be him, for the company of a friend, especially one of his skills, would be most welcome. But the other part was saying 'No, no, no! I left the city to draw the danger away from you!'

And speaking of danger... she realized she needed to do something to stop this person from wandering into one of her traps. Of course, a ranger as wary as Gwand ought to be able to spot a few traps set by a non-professional, since it was still dark out. That was the point of the decoy, after all. But she also didn't want to risk it and have him possibly get hurt, or else have to spend a lot of time resetting the traps or something.

While the person, whom she had convinced herself would be Gwand, was stooping to pick up something from the ground which he then threw at her decoy, the girl slipped away from her hiding spot and moved as stealthily as she could manage, carefully making her way toward the figure. She kept as much to the shadows as she could, and using trees for cover, trying her best not to be noticed until she chose to be. Whether it worked would, of course, would depend as much on his observational skills, as it did on her stealth skills. Once she was near enough to talk without calling out, she stepped out from behind a tree, so she would be visible.

"I wouldn't come any closer if I were you," She spoke in a hushed tone, with a half-teasing note to her voice as she pointed out a thin tripwire running just above the ground not far from where he had stopped. He may have even noticed it when he had stooped for the rocks he'd thrown, but she wasn't sure. Whether he noticed it or not, it was rigged to a low branch that was pulled back with much tension, so that when someone set off the trip wire, the branch would sweep swiftly toward them and knock their legs out from under them.

[Eldrith]

The Contact
Late September, 4th age, year 1
Somewhere along the river Morthond, nearing the White Mountains

The stranger hadn't noticed you approaching. Or he pretended not to notice. It was one of those two but there would be no indication of which one aside from the fact that, once you stepped behind a tree, you didn't see him startle. Had he noticed you at any point in your approach or was he simply too accustomed to finding himself in situations like this that startling was no longer a reflex? He paused, remained quiet as you pointed out the tripwire, following the path the branch would sweep if the wire was pulled with his eyes.

And then those eyes turned back to you. They were dark and calm, and there was a hint of a smile behind them. He was indeed almost double your age, perhaps even slightly more. He was comfortable with the silence it seemed. Your light tease was like a stone thrown into the silent surface of a pond that created ripples that widened and widened and then faded away, leaving the undisturbed surface as it had always been.

You look younger than you do on the posters.
*He finally said, those eyes now resting upon you in a way that could be described as.. unsettling. There was no threat in them though and while he had a knife in his belt, so did any sensible traveler. It would be used for a thousand of practical purposes, and his hand was nowhere near it. He didn't seem intent on harming you, but the way he looked held speculation.*

Theft... murder... forgery... quite a list for one of such tender age...

*The voice remained.. pensive. There was no censure in it, no anger. If he was a bounty hunter, he didn't seem in any hurry to secure you, though those posters had been taken down soon after they had been put up. So was the bounty even still there? Whoever the man was it seemed he had found his quarry. And neither the traps, your very near presence or the possibility that you had done all the things he'd just uttered seemed to have phased him.*


@Rillewen

[Rillewen]

@Eldrith

Strawberry
Late September, 4th age, year 1
Somewhere along the river Morthond, nearing the White Mountains

It wasn't until the man turned to her, and Strawberry got a look at his face, that she realized that it was not a familiar face. "You're not..." She caught her breath along with the rest of that sentence, but the first two words had escaped before she could stop them. He was not Gwand. Of course, why would she think he would have left his family to come out here looking for her? She swiftly hid her surprise, and didn't even give the flicker of disappointment a chance to surface. Still, she didn't want to speak her friend's name, in case their mutual enemy was yet unaware that they had become acquainted. "...who I was expecting." She finished, instead, eyeing him warily as she shifted to rest one hand at her hip.

It was a casual enough posture, but it put her left hand nearer to her daggers. Meanwhile, her stance was one that she could easily defend herself from, while not appearing too obviously like a fighting stance. The stranger's words made alarm bells go off in her head, although she remained watching him with guarded anticipation, waiting to find out what he wanted. And she didn't have to wait long.

Ah. The poster. CG had promised to take those down. So, either he'd gotten one of those posters before they were removed, or he simply hadn't removed them. She suspected the latter. Figures, that he hadn't kept his end of their bargain. She pushed down her annoyance at that, but also couldn't help but notice her own lack of surprise. That didn't matter, really. What mattered at this moment, was getting out of this situation. So, who was this fellow? A bounty hunter? A mercenary of sorts? Perhaps he had been hired and sent in place of the man she had been expecting. And here she had just given away her elaborate trap, and had even warned him of it! But he didn't know about the rest of them.

She turned her head slowly to look one way, then the other, as if expecting to see more people come out of the woods. Her gaze returned to the stranger. He seemed to be alone, at least. But he seemed to believe the lies he'd read on those posters. Which meant he probably believed he could claim the reward promised, right?

Strawberry was unsure what to do. How to handle this, how to answer him, how to get out of this... whatever it was. She had a sense that it was bad, but she also knew she mustn't let on that she was uncertain and frightened. She had her weapons. She could fight if it came to it. She hoped it wouldn't, but she wasn't going to let him capture her without doing everything possible to prevent it.

She let the pause stretch on for a couple of heartbeats after the man had finished quoting some of those false charges he'd read on that poster. "Am I supposed to beg you for mercy, now or something?" She asked, shifting her weight to rest a bit more on her back foot, one eyebrow raised. "I'll have to disappoint you there. I'm too stubborn for that sort of thing." Despite saying what might have been an apology, her tone was certainly not apologetic.

[Eldrith]

The Contact
Late September, 4th age, year 1
Somewhere along the river Morthond, nearing the White Mountains

I don't see why you would beg. If I was the type that would be a danger to you, begging likely wouldn't change my mind, now would it? *He said, almost companionably. There are other options of course. You could attempt to run away..
He nodded towards the figure that appeared to be sleeping on your blanket roll. But it would mean leaving some of your belongings here, and my guess is you do not have that much that you like to leave behind.

Young, somewhat scrawny, smart as well as smart-mouthed, and with a layer of fear underneath it all that compelled you to set up traps, and worry. Likely there wasn't much that made you feel safe right now. Seeing as he hadn't really noticed the tripwire that would have seen him knocked out in a few moments, you were at the very least good at THIS. And likely in enough danger from something you had done or seen that you felt such a set up was needed.

You could also attempt to kill me, or at the very least wound me and tie me up, which would likely lead to my death because well.. who would find me here, right?


The tone, as he laid out options, would be soothing, easy, as if this was a normal conversation of two strangers along an overhang. You would be perfect he realized, for what they wanted. A bit older perhaps than when they were normally recruited. If you got them before they reached ten, the bonds were stronger. But for talent things could be overlooked and considering that poster you had talents. Life wasn't fair. But this could benefit you as much as it benefited them, he reasoned. Besides it was no skin off his back what would be happening to you now was it? He considered though, perhaps after this, to move a bit further out.

Or we might simply share a fire and talk a bit, after which each one of us would safely go our own way, leaving the other undisturbed.

It could be that simple, couldn't it? For them to share a conversation after which he would have done his part. You could see then what you did with the offer. After all, having someone at your back, someone to take care of you, someone to protect you, that seemed to be an offer that might be very appealing for someone like you right now, he guessed.