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

[Ercassie]

Private with @Arnyn

’Camp was made on the shore of this apparently barren land of the Andrast, land most welcomed even after ten days or so at sea. But don’t wander too far inland here on the Andrast, it was said strange men lived in the forests and mountains, who utilized poisoned arrows and more… By campfire, on the beach, the warship parked out to sea a short distance away, they celebrated a mostly successful voyage and mission, and relaxed their nerves and sore muscles for a time.’

- An excerpt from @Lantaelen’s accounting.




Ehtyar Ilisys Azrubel. Seizing a moment with Lieutenant Dealedwen
Briefly ashore in Andrast, as part of the Rangers Sea Training on ‘The Bregolalph, January.
As per This Post

Eyes like frozen fog beheld the ocean’s slow conquest of their shore. For still the bruise of darkness had not utterly engulfed the horizon, and already a dancing fire sprang up vibrant to illuminate the glad, laughing faces of both sailors and rangers as they ‘dined’ together, and celebrated thereafter. Snatches of song could be heard from several directions, and she sat not apart but amidst a group, for all that she did not seem engaged by any at hand. Ilisys did not still her own hands to join their revelry. A small chalice lay now emptied and abandoned on it's side as the wind fed grains of sand to fill it’s gaping mouth. A small mound rose up to dwarf it close by on the shifting dunes, a miniature castle, blindly sculpted utterly of sand. And as her small work came to it’s conclusion, the lady scrutinised her efforts from all sides with quiet preoccupation. A far cry from the first amateurish attempts which her childhood had begun, although undoubtedly, the habit had persisted all these years.

Dark tendrils of soft hair snaked over the woman’s pale moon face, provoking no outcry. A laugh from somewhere close at hand roused her though, from silent reflection, to observe Unalmis sharing a drink with Duinion. It was the Tirdinen’s birthday, she had been informed already, and knew that to press her person upon the pair would but make the birthday boy awkward. The more did not necessarily mean merrier for the quiet man, and she could respect that. She was probably the only other of their entire company who was sat apart .. oh. Save for .. one other. Isys unwound her sit and rose up, foregoing the retrieval of long dark boots, as she started across the way. Before she might think better of the notion.


Arnyn was attending to the dishes, and the Ehtyar paused close by as though it was a strange sight to behold. Honestly it brought to mind, a mutual memory, of a certain other Lieutenant of past times, attending to the culinary duties of the crowd, at the mission in Poros. But that was a subject fraught with perils of delicacy, due to all that had come after. And Isys already had a great many too many such subjects about her mind this day. Grey eyes sought out across the lay of land to pinpoint Pele or Abrazimir as though to serve reminder, as much as comfort of the few she knew she could more easily converse with. But this was a rare moment of chance, when Arnyn was not preoccupied by either of her fellow officers.

So it was time then. The Valar provided. She put her trust in their wisdom, and raised up the next dish in hands, before the Lieutenant could ever reach for it. Wordless was the exchange, in a silence which hung heavy with words unspoken. But if this was to be, someone would require to make the first move. Isys might have believed she had already done so, in approaching. But at some point she would have to make voice also.

“My compliments,” she offered then. “To the chef.”

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

Dulinneth Talven
Túrion Dornea, Dor-en-Ernil
April 23rd, Fourth Age

”I could follow up on that. He might have some answers or explanations for these riddles. He was around during that time, no?”

Linn hesitated, looking again at some of the info on the page. "Well... no. I don't guess he'd know anything about Aearon's death. He would've been like.. a toddler when Avorndir left, so he couldn't really help us with our case, I guess." She admitted. "I'm not really sure if it'd be much use to talk to him, but I can't help but wonder about him. I mean... no one's ever talked about how Lord Taurhebor died. Not even to my brothers, and he was their father. And this guy was apparently there." She hesitated. "But then, it says he was transferred to Minas Tirith, so I guess his wounds were so bad, Solchion wasn't sure he could help him. He made a note about him being transferred." She explained, frowning thoughtfully. Was this what a 'gut feeling' was like? She couldn't explain why she felt such curiosity about this fellow. "If it isn't a lot of trouble, maybe you could see if they have a record of him, there? At least, maybe find out if he survived all those wounds.." She frowned.

They both agreed that the marks described around Aearon's neck did not sound like poison ivy. Linn wasn't sure if Gaer had ever suffered from that evil plant, but she sure had, and she knew what that looked like. And Solchion did, too. So, she figured he would've put that down. Besides, she didn't think that rash would manifest so swiftly. He would've had to have made contact with it a day or so before drowning for the rash to have appeared, right? She made a guess about it, anyway.

She tapped the feathered end of her quill lightly on her chin as she thought about the puzzles before them. They had so few clues, and so many more questions. Absently, she nodded in reply to Gaer promising that they would go to the bridge tomorrow. She hoped so. If Gaer didn't feel sick again, they most certainly would. "You saw the drawings I've made of it," She mentioned. "It's older now than when I first saw it," She shrugged. "I go back there now and then, and make a fresh sketch. My artist skills get better every year, but then the bridge gets older every year, and things get more weather-worn and all." She sighed.

Then Gaer suggested her servant, Ravondaer. Linn looked at her, intrigued at the idea, but when Gaer added that he might go and blab, Linn shook her head. "No, we don't want that." She insisted. "I don't want any of them knowing I'm investigating this. If Mother or Father found out.. especially if they knew that Togg was my prime suspect, they'd make me stop." She pouted slightly at the injustices of being treated like a kid. "They didn't like it because I was asking Solchion some questions, before. That's why I wanted to get these files," She explained, rolling her eyes. "So... maybe, I'll show you the board. It's only about this long," She held out her arms to show the length of maybe three feet. "It's got some markings on it that I think look suspicious. You could take it with you, maybe? And try to find someone to look at it? They could tell you what those marks mean? If I'm right.." She hesitated and bit her lip. "No, I think I'll keep my thoughts to myself. That way, your opinion about it isn't influenced by mine." She decided.

As for the present, Linn was surprised when Gaer volunteered to check about Togg. "Are you sure you'd want to do that?" She asked with wide eyes. "I mean, if he is the one.. and I think he is.." She bit her lip, concerned. And wondering if she ought to warn Gaer about how mean he could be. But he wouldn't be like that to her, right? She wasn't his siter. She was the girl he was hoping to marry. "You won't have to try very hard to get him to have a drink or two," Linn informed her with a wrinkled nose. "He does talk more freely when he's been drinking," She admitted. "Just... be aware, Mother and Father aren't going to allow you two to be without a chaperone," And they'd need to be careful what they said in front of whoever that chaperone might end up being. She didn't want any word getting back to her parents about her investigating her brother as a possible murderer. Somehow, she just knew they would not be pleased.

She couldn't think of anything else to write, nor any other investigating they could do at the moment. She'd copied her entire list of questions onto a fresh paper, for Gaer to take along with her. That included the original questions that were on her board, back in Aearon's room, along with answers to those she had found answers to. As well as the new ones she had come up with, today, after reading these medical files:

• What did Aearon know about Father?
• Why did the bridge collapse? - Flash flood... or maybe not?
• Why didn't Aearon hear the flash flood coming? Why didn't he get off the bridge?
• Did Togg have anything to do with any of this?
• Why hasn't the bridge been rebuilt? - Mother didn't think it was safe, fears another death could happen if there's another flash flood
• What happened with Anurion and Togg? - Togg threw a glass of alcohol in Anurion's face
• Did Togg try to kill Anurion? Or was it really an accident?
• Why was Anurion’s throat cut open? - emergency surgery to save his life
• Why won't Solchion tell me who hurt Anurion? - Under orders from Mother not to talk about it
• Why doesn't Mother want anyone talking about what happened to Anurion? - she doesn't want anyone to find out about Anurion's problem with alcohol, doesn't want people gossiping
• What did Glirdis mean about 'the alcohol thing'? - Apparently, Anurion has an allergy to alcohol?
• Why doesn't anyone want me asking about stuff? - mother doesn't want anyone to know about Anurion's allergy
• Why is Aearon's room locked up? Are there clues in there that someone doesn't want found? - Mother doesn't want his room to be disturbed
• Where is the rest of Aearon's journal? - pretty sure it's in a box in his room. Can't open it.
• How to open the box? Is there a special key? Where would it be?
• What are these markings on the wood from?
• Who put them there? Togg?
• What could have caused the rash and bruises on Aearon's neck?
• Was there something caught around Aearon's neck?
• Why was Avorndir transferred to MT?
• Why did Anurion leave?
• Did Anurion see or hear something that prompted him to leave in such a hurry?
• Where was Togg, the day that Aearon died? What was he doing? Can anyone verify it?

"Can you think of any other questions?" She asked Gaer, after handing her the list of questions. "If you think of any, jot them down." She suggested. "I've tried to think of all the questions I can, but it feels like I've run into a wall with it." She sighed. "Maybe we should take a break... I should let you rest, I suppose." She remembered, frowning as she remembered the scare from earlier. "We can pick this up tomorrow, or the next day, if you still aren't feeling well." She suggested. They could take their ride in the woods tomorrow, if Gaer was feeling up to it.

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lady Azraindil Dimaethor
Túrion Dornea, Edhellon River, Dor-en-Ernil
Late April, Fourth Age

They were two more dead ends, the ideas that Azraindil suggested. Avorndir and whatever happened to him had no bearing on the case of Aearonor’s passing death, though he could have information regarding what happened to the old Lord Taurhebor and his accidental fall. And in regards to the bridge, asking Ravondaer brought forth too many risks due to his talkative nature. He might have answers in regards the bridge’s infrastructure but two young women who never displayed any interest in carpentry or architecture inquiring about that would be too astonishing a thing for him to keep quiet about. Someone less connected would have to be involved. Like with Avorndir, answers might lie in Minas Tirith…

Given what happened at the joust last year, Azraindil was not as worried about any danger that Toggornir might face, having encountered…scarier individuals. She just shrugged her shoulders instead to Linny’s query. Azraindil figured Toggornir did like her a little, or at least tried to, given how he always tried to tag along when Azraindil was involved. And the gift at the joust banquet. ”All men and indeed some women I’ve found talk a lot more freely when they’ve been drinking. My brother too has said some astonishing things.” She smiled lopsidedly. But Abrazimir wasn’t involved in cruelty or mischief. Rather he seemed to have a renewed zest for life that contrasted with the sour and dull person he had been before the War. Toggornir was different. Liquor seemed to bring out more who he really was inside, with his blackened heart and all, rather than opening up new horizons like it did for Azraindil’s brother.

”Don’t worry, chaperone or not, I’ll pick my words very careful. I intend to act the grieving friend, thoughtful and remembering the lost brothers. It should come off as natural, it being my first time visiting since they passed away…” Azraindil trailed off. It shouldn’t be too hard to fake the grief, when the grief was very real. And like Linny, Azraindil too had lost someone very close to her. Her mother. It should be natural that a young woman like her was curious about the nature of death, however morbid or nihilistic it might be.

That matter could be put aside for now. They spent the next hour or two copying the long list of questions and partial answers that Linny had worked on and gained with the recent investigation of the medical files. Azraindil doubted she’ll get any answers in depth to any of these in Minas Tirith but who knows. Information could come from strange and unlooked for places. Can you think of any other questions? Azraindil stared off towards the window but she wasn’t really seeing the window or what was outside of it. ”Nothing at present, but I’ll let you know. Yes, I should rest, my stomach is still pinching itself, it feels like. Maybe I just ate too much chocolate but that’s never happened before.” She frowned, still unsure and not understanding why something so routine had given her such a visceral reaction…

The next day. Before breakfast even, Azraindil went down to Solchion’s hut for another check up. She did feel much better, having drank plenty of fluids the previous evening and stayed mostly in bed or stationary in one area, that being her cabin. The worst had been expelled and the rest naturally digested. No more shivers, no sudden dizziness, and she could hold down whole foods, as she soon demonstrated when she joined the Talvens for breakfast. She ate sparingly though, just in case, and put a brave face on appearing strong and vigorous.

She even asked Toggornir, if he wanted to…share an evening tea time or something. She would drink tea. He could drink whatever. She made it appear like a betrothed wishing to know more about her intended. Here within the house and all. Nothing untoward would certainly happen. If the parents consented and all. And if they thought a chaperone was necessary. Probably mostly for symbolic sake. Neither of them would be so brazen, right?

And after breakfast, she and Linny could attempt another riding. It was really the main focus of her trip here. To share some relaxing horseriding with her best friend and forget the woes of the world and all its responsibilities. Might be the last time for a while. After breakfast, with the morning sun still rising, the girls could once again head down to the stables and prepare their horses, with plenty of silent prayers, Valar willing, that nothing inconvenient would befall them this time. ”This time we’ll make it.” Azraindil assured Malen, before using the step ladder to mount the horse. She would sit side saddle to start but once they were out of view of the staff…she would ride normally. She didn’t understand why it was considered so unladylike to begin with.

”We should go the other way around, and come to the bridge from the other direction.” Azraindil whispered suggestively to Linny. ”Make it look like we aren’t trying to go there like we did the other day.” Change up the pattern, in case anyone was watching them. It might look like they really were trying to wander, without purpose or predesigned destination.

[Arnyn]

Private with @Ercassie

Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
Briefly ashore in Andrast, as part of the Rangers Sea Training on The Bregolalph
January

Despite winter's chill, Arnyn had been spending most her time in the light of day, rather than below deck, whilst they'd been at sea. And now, at one of the beaches of Andrast, she'd set up her station facing the setting sun, determined to catch as much of its rays as she could.
For Arnyn felt it made a difference in her disposition, small as it was. Small... for there were many things trying to drag her down, practiced though she was at avoiding such downward spirals by focusing on the matters at hand.

Dinner was over. They had all helped, working together - Duinion, Unalmis, Kaylin, Arnyn and the other rangers on their team - but Arnyn had made sure Duinion's hunting had been his sole part of the losing team's tasks. Given the day. Not that she had mentioned it outright. To make that happen, she was now the only one seeing to the dishes. Kaylin had been lending her a hand earlier, but the Lieutenant had sent her away about halfway through, noticing the redhead's longing glances toward where her husband was sitting with the others.

Arnyn might have enjoyed the moment, regardless of the task her hands were performing. The beach, the setting sun, the people... if the state of her mind and heart were better. She might not have felt as alone as she did, despite the fact there were comrades so nearby. It was of her own making, she reminded herself, and her dark eyes lowered from the skies to the dishes. Though they were always dark, being the shade of brown that they were, they were still darker than usual - for Arnyn had not given up her experiment whilst at sea. Yet, she had kept her promise to a certain northern ranger, and she had lowered her dose - so the brown was no longer quite as invaded by the black of her pupils as it had been in late December.
And perhaps it was not merely the lower dosage, but also her body's adjustment to the poison. The stomach aches were a thing of the past. Her vision still blurred every evening, right after taking her dose - but since she then slept, whatever symptoms she might experience shortly after, were gone by morning. And they no longer hindered her sleep. She did wake up every morning more thirsty than she had ever known herself to be previous to starting her experiment - but water provided an easy solution to that. She had felt her heartrate spiking more easily, but it had not limited her, and she hadn't experienced any loss of balance that she thought was to be blamed on the belladonna rather than on the warship.

The Lieutenant was so deeply absorbed in thoughts, she only noticed Isys shortly before the Ehtyar offered her the next dish. Her eyes started at the dish before flicking to the Belfalasian's own gaze. The Lieutenant accepted what was offered with a small smile, then submerged the dish into the basin of water as her eyes once again lowered to her task and she started to rub it clean methodically.

Isys' words slowed her movements somewhat, as Arnyn focused once more upon Isys. A quick smile flashed across her face. Even though Duinion would have been able to help with the cooking, the Lieutenant had insisted that she handle that part of their team's task, as to not require too much of the Tirdinen on a day that should be one of celebration for the man.

"Thank you," Arnyn quietly offered the Ehtyar in return. "Although I am sure you are used to much more exquisite fare." Arnyn had done what she could, and the results had been more than decent, thanks to the on-hand experience she'd picked up throughout the years, not in the least during her time in the northern woods of the Breelands.

She did feel it, of course. What would be the expectation. That she continue to speak, thus turning a small exchange into, perhaps, a conversation. "I am aware of your experience with ships, of course," the Lieutenant thus began. "Much of what I have learned, I therefore assume woudl already be known to you... But I hope you have found other things of interest." Arnyn set the dish aside, adding it to the clean pile on the other side of the basin. "Besides the wine shared with the ship's Captain," she added after a moment. Busy or not, preoccupied or not - Arnyn was still Arnyn. She made it her business to know things.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

Dulinneth Talven
Túrion Dornea, Dor-en-Ernil
April 24th, Fourth Age

Linn was beyond relieved that Gaer was feeling better today, and her concern began to slacken a little. But she was still worried, deep down.

Meanwhile, Togg just begun to ask about joining them for their ride today, in case they needed a protector. As if he were so protective of his little sister. But then Azrain suggested they spend some time together. In the evening. Naturally, he was favorable to that idea and agreed, assuring her that he would be looking forward to it. He wished them a pleasant ride, and didn't persist with the idea of joining them.

Linn breathed out a huge sigh of relief when they got out to the stable. "I thought sure he was going to insist on riding with us," She whispered, shuddering a little. Sure, right now, he was putting on a nice act. He'd keep that up for as long as Gaer was here, she knew. But when Gaer had gone away, Linn knew that the real Togg would return, and he'd be a bully to her and everything. It did make her pause to consider whether her suspicions of him were because of that, or because of the facts she had gathered. Ultimately, she decided it was the latter.

Maerdor already had their horses saddled and waiting for them, so it didn't take long before they had set out. He had remembered their preference from yesterday, that Gaer would use a regular saddle and not the side-saddle that she technically should be using. As they set out along the road, Linn smiled at her friend. "Don't worry. I've got plenty of practice sneaking past the barrier," She assured her in a whisper. "But it's a good distance, so I hope you're feeling alright?" She checked.

Linn lead the way, so Malen hardly even had to be guided as the mare simply followed where Rhovan went. Linn kept looking back periodically to make sure they weren't being followed, because she honestly didn't trust Togg not to try and follow them. In fact, she was pretty sure that she did see him trying to follow at one point, so she waited until they arrived at a fork in the road, then she took the one that would lead them toward the nearest settlement. It was only a small cluster of cabins, where some of the lumber workers lived with their families, along with a couple of tradesmen who served those who lived there.

But she only went a mile or so down this road, stopping before they reached the settlement. "Be careful of the limbs," She warned Gaer, as she left the road and guided Rhovan directly into the woods so they could cut across to get to the other road from the fork. "And don't let Malen snack on any bushes," She called over her shoulder, remembering to warn Gaer about that possibility as she had to tug Rhovan's head away just before he snatched a leafy branch from some sort of bush. "It gets all wrapped around the bit and it can be problematic," She explained. "Plus, it's always best to keep the horse from feeling like they could push you around and do whatever they feel like. Safer for you if they accept that you're in control, not them." She repeated some of what Maerdor had taught her during her riding lessons.

"We'll have to be careful, approaching this place." She warned Gaer as she guided the way through the woods. "The foresters guard it to keep people from going near it." They came out of the woods onto the other road. In this way, anyone following their tracks would see their tracks going toward the settlement, and their tracks would resume more than a mile down the other road.

After about another mile, they approached the end of this road. It was still blocked off with a thick barrier of fallen trees and wild-growing bushes and by now, it was pretty much impossible to pass. But Linn knew of a little game trail they could follow that would cut through the woods and lead back out onto the road, beyond the blockade. She ducked to avoid a low branch, then glanced back to make sure that Gaer also was able to duck it.

Once they had gotten past this obstacle, the trail wound away from the road for a little way, but after a while, it veered back toward the road. Linn turned her horse off the deer trail and back onto the un-maintained road, so their journey continued. She got them close enough to walk the rest of the way to the bridge, then Linn suggested they dismount and leave their horses in a thick grove of trees, where they would be fairly well hidden from view. Then, they walked the rest of the way, giving a wide berth to the forester's cabin, then she led the way cautiously forward until they were stood at the bank, with the broken bridge before them.

It was after noon by now, and the sun was bright, making it easy for them to see all there was to see. Linn glanced around to make sure no foresters were around that would tell them to go away. All seemed clear in that regard. The river was swollen with the melted snows coming down from the mountains. The water level was high, coming up almost level with the wooden surface of the bridge. Just like it had been the day when Linn fell in and nearly drowned. "The water's too high and fast this time of year, we can't go on the bridge," She explained. "But I wanted to show you, anyway."

[Rillewen]

Flashback (solo/private)

|
Amardir Ansellidus | Ademar Androllius
A few miles North along the road from Dol Amroth
(Roughly 6 years ago, a few weeks after this post)

The letter had been received with mixed feelings. Naturally, Amarthir Ansellidus was grieved to learn that his uncle’s health was failing. He was fond of his uncle, even if they hadn’t seen one another in many years, and the nobleman did not wish him any ill will. Yet, at the same time, the fact that he was dying meant that Amarthir, as his closest relative, was about to inherit a large castle estate, complete with several mines to provide extensive income to the lord of the estate, if his uncle hadn’t exaggerated his wealth.

Lord Amarthir had been living on the outskirts of Dol Amroth, in a small manor that had been left to him by his father, when the invitation came from his uncle Alagion Ansellidus. Come to Lossarnach and live with him, until the elderly lord had passed on. He didn’t wish to spend his last years alone in that big castle with naught but servants around him, and since it had become evident that he would not be having any children of his own, he wanted his brother’s son to come and live with him along with his family.

The carriage rolled merrily along the road, bearing the family of three toward their new home with great hopes and expectations. Some of their luggage had been sent on ahead of them, while anything else that they wished for would be sent for in a day or two. Their former home in Dol Amroth was still theirs, of course, and still contained their furniture and other things like that, but now it would be only a vacation house, which they could use in times when they might need a place to stay when they were in Dol Amroth for one reason or another. The castle would be their home for the majority of the time, now.

With their son just shy of adulthood, both Amarthir and his wife had already been starting to think about finding him a wife. Now, with this change in their status, they had higher hopes of finding him a far more important bride than before. Once Amarthir had inherited his uncle’s estate and everything that went with it, his son would, in turn, inherit it from him one day. Ever since that letter had arrived, Lady Falassel could hardly stop talking about how much better their lives would be, moving into the big castle. She had big plans for her son, and she was very excited. “We’ll have a huge ball to celebrate your betrothal!” She declared eagerly, while the carriage bounced slightly.

“Mother, I’ve not even found anyone to be betrothed with, yet,” Amardir protested with a laugh. “Father hasn’t even got a girl in mind for me, yet.” He reminded her.

“Ah, but you will be! All the girls will be eager to be betrothed to the future lord Ansellidus, I’m sure of it.” The lady smiled proudly, happily anticipating the life of being wife to a rich lord, mother to a handsome young lord. “You’ll have the most-”

At that moment, the carriage came to an abrupt stop, and they heard the driver hastily drawing up the horses, along with a bit of a commotion outside.

“What’s going on?” Lady Falassel frowned, glancing around. “Why are we stopping?”

“I don’t know..” Lord Amarthir frowned as well. “Driver?” he called. “Driver!” He sighed. “I’ll go and see what the trouble is.” He assured his wife, opening the door of the carriage. No sooner had he set foot on the ground, than an ugly, black-feathered arrow buried itself in his neck. The man stopped and stood still, making a choking noise in his throat as his hands instinctively reached for the spot. More arrows thudded into his chest, and he fell over even while his wife screamed from inside the carriage.

The young man, Amardir hastily leaped across to his mother, covering her as the doors to the carriage were yanked open further. He expected orcs, but to his surprise, there were only men there. Men bearing orc-like weapons, and cruel, sneering expressions. He stared with wide eyes, belatedly thinking to reach for a dagger he had at his hip. But he had hardly even touched the hilt of the decorative weapon before a fist slammed into his chin, and then the men were dragging both he and his mother out of the carriage. The eighteen-year-old kicked and fought, yelling and demanding that they release him at once!

But they did not release him. Amardir looked around with a sick feeling in his stomach. The driver and the guards who had been traveling alongside the carriage now lay on the ground, slain. The men, their faces covered in black paint, were slashing and hewing at the bodies, just like he’d heard orcs were known to do. “Stop it! What is wrong with you people? You’re not orcs! How can you do this?” Amardir yelled, struggling to get free from his captors. No one answered him.

Looking around in horror at the men’s orcish deeds, Amardir began to panic further as he realized that he and his mother were surely doomed to the same fate. He squirmed and jerked his body this way and that in an effort to break free of them, trying to get to his mother, desperate to defend her. But, the young man was helpless to do anything. “Mother! No!” He wailed in dismay as they slew her before right his eyes, then flung her body down beside his father’s. His face streaked with tears, Amardir sank to his knees, sagging between his two captors. “No…” He drew in a deep shuddering breath, bowing his head in grief for his parents. He was next, he was sure of it. Sure enough, he was shoved to the ground and held down with one of the men pressing a boot into his back, as if he were no more than a rug. This was it… this was when they would kill him. He just knew it.

The young man squirmed, pleading, his fear surging as he thought they were about to begin chopping him up as they had done the other bodies. He was still alive, for now. But, for how long? He wanted to fight them, but how could he? They’d taken his weapon. They had him pinned down to the ground, helpless. And now they wrestled his arms behind his back, and.. tied them? Amardir twisted his head to look over his shoulder, confused. What was going on? They bound his ankles, then left him there, bound. The group of men seemed to be enjoying their work, wrecking the carriage, taking things they wanted, and making it further look as if orcs had waylaid the carriage.

Amardir could do nothing but watch, calling out feeble protests, which sounded a bit more like whimpers and begging, as he watched the men pilfer through his family’s belongings, throwing things so that it was all strewn about, taking anything that looked the slightest bit valuable or useful to them. None of that really mattered though, with his parents dead. But it was still awful to be helpless, watching it all happen without being able to do anything about it. He briefly tried to roll over onto his side, hoping he might be able to get free, or crawl away or something. After discovering that he couldn’t move very well, Amardir closed his eyes, trying to shut out the awful view. After a while, he became aware of someone stepping toward him. He opened his tear-filled eyes, watching a young man step over the bodies of his parents. He was about the same age as Amardir, but there was a cold, detachedness about him. He was unaffected by the carnage around him, unafraid of the men doing it. In fact, they paid him no mind, either. He put down the hood of his cloak and crouched before the bound young man. “Amardir, right?” he asked with a somewhat dark smile.

“Wh-who are you?” Amardir demanded, sniffling as he tried to channel his anger and grief toward this stranger.

Mar continued to smile. “Nevermind that.” Standing, he grabbed Amardir and hauled him up to his feet forcibly. “Come on… Mar.” He smirked. “This isn’t to be your fate.”

Amardir looked at him, baffled, then looked around. He tried to break free but found his legs swept out from under him, and he crashed painfully onto his back with a cry, the cords yanking painfully at his wrists as he fell onto them.

“Nope. None of that.” The other chided. Mar frowned down at him, then crouched. "Clumsy, aren't you?" he mocked him. "You look pretty thirsty.” He decided, drawing out a flask from a pocket. "Have a drink."

“No,” Amardir answered, shaking his head. “Leave me alone.” He struggled as the flask was pushed to his mouth. He clamped his teeth together and turned his head away.

"Oh, I insist," Mar informed him in a mock-polite tone, and punched him hard in the abdomen so that his victim gasped and began coughing. Mar grinned in amusement as he watched him struggling to breathe while the flask was forced into his mouth.


Amardir coughed, spluttering as he struggled both to breathe and to spit out the liquid as soon as the flask was pulled away, but he had swallowed some of it. "What is that?" He demanded, gasping.

"Oh, some sort of poison, I think." Mar answered casually as he sat back on his heels and watched. "Not enough to kill you, though." He assured him with a smile that was far from reassuring.

Amardir very quickly began to feel drowsy. The last thing he remembered was two burly men coming over, at some signal from the younger man. One picked up his feet, while the other took him by the shoulders, and together they carried him toward a carriage that had driven up from somewhere while all this was going on.

---

Amardir felt sick and very groggy by the time he woke. He was in a rowboat with the other guy his age, and the other two fellows the rowing. He had hoped it was all some horrible dream, but the sight of that guy’s smug face, and the blood splattered on the other two, assured him that it was all very real. He felt fresh tears in his eyes at the memory of his parents being slaughtered so brutally.

The sun had set by the time the boat scraped against the rocks which made the shore of an apparently uninhabited island. “Where am I?” Amardir asked in a mumble, confused after they had pulled him out of the boat. He couldn’t imagine why anyone would have any reason to come here, or what they might possibly want with him.

“Tolfalas.” The other replied, and without another word, he made the young nobleman march along with him. "Drornan, you two wait here for me, and guard the boat." Mar instructed, addressing one of the men who'd been rowing.

Amardir stumbled several times, and fell face-first against the rocks more times than he could count. The other young man just laughed, dragged him up again, and made him keep going. Eventually, they stopped at the entrance to a cave. Amardir frowned and turned to his captor. “I demand some explanation.” He insisted. His head still felt fuzzy, and he felt like he was trying to wade through thick mud. “Who are you? Why have you brought me here?” He demanded.

“All in good time, Mar.” The other smiled most unpleasantly. “You don’t mind me calling you Mar, do you?”

“Yes, I do." Amardir retorted. "My name... is Amardir Ansellidus."

“Oh, I know exactly what your name is.” Mar assured him.

Amardir frowned. “Well, I can’t say the same of you. Who are you? I don't know you, what could you possibly have against my family?” Something occurred to him, suddenly. “Wait.. are you planning to demand a ransom from my great-uncle?” His eyes widened with realization. That had to be it. Why else..?

“Ransom?” The other scoffed in amusement, pausing to light a torch. “Hardly.” He grabbed him by the arm and forced him in. “I just have a few questions for you, Mar. That's all.” He explained with a grin. “Don’t worry, if you cooperate, it shouldn’t take long.”


Amardir had no idea what he expected to find down in the depths of that cave, but another young man, bound and clearly having suffered from lengthy torture, was certainly not one of them. Although maybe he should have expected something of the sort...

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lady Azraindil Dimaethor
Túrion Dornea, Edhellon River, Dor-en-Ernil
Late April, Fourth Age

She was under no illusions in who Toggornir was. He was, and always did, acting a certain way around Azraindil. She had heard the stories of his true nature from Dulinneth, even long before she read his involvement however direct or indirect in whatever befell Aearonor and Anurion. Well, if he could pretend and put on a façade, so could she. Indeed, she was rather mighty pleased with herself in heading off Toggornir’s attempts to join her and Linny on today’s ride. That would have proved an insurmountable problem to the things they were trying to discern and investigate this morning. And of course, she needed some time to just mentally prepare herself to even do the pretending in engaging with Toggornir.

Another problem headed off was her condition. She paid close attention to her body as they went out to the stables and mounted their horses. She remembered yesterday the telltale signs of something being wrong, the fatigue and stomach roiling and tingling in her fingers and toes, that spread like some infection through her limbs. There was none of that this morning, her body having sufficiently mended. That had been a most strange episode. She hated to think she might have similar reactions to eating food in places that weren’t home, especially in the home of a best friend or a place like Minas Tirith. It would give her Adar all the reason he needed to recall her and forbid her from ever indulging in adventures like this. Why oh why must her body be like this?

Thankfully, it didn’t seem to be rousing itself again. ”I’m alright.” She assured Linny. ”Though, had he come along, I would have faked it just to get out of a ride with him.” She huffed about Toggornir. Curious how she didn’t have to fake it for Solchion like they originally planned. Maybe the Valar would bless her again had Toggornir come along, just to escape that ordeal.

In any case, she wore a giant smile as she trotted along atop of Malen, who followed Linny and Rhovan without much need for guidance. She too kept an eye out on any potential followers, as they passed through the village and then into the forest trails. Then, they broke off the road and into the woods direct. Azraindil ducked under branch and tree limb, or used her hand to shield herself or move a branch out the way until she passed, allowing it to swing back.

”Got it.” She said in the affirmative to not letting Malen eat any of the bushes. She kept a tighter grip on the reins but Malen seemed to cooperate at present, more eager to follow the other horse in whatever adventure they were on. She tried to use her legs and knees to grip and guide Malen after Rhovan but couldn’t tell if her slender limbs were having much of an effect. ”She seems to be behaving.” She said, albeit doubtfully. Right now, rider and steed were aligned, neither exactly in control.

They made it through to the other side, rejoining the road that went on to the bridge, eventually coming to a barrier. Judging by the overgrowing of bush and vegetation, it had not been utilized in a long time, except by Linny’s occasional visits. She leaned low on Malen, practicing hugging the horse’s neck, to pass under the branch. She was, strangely, still having fun, riding along with her best friend, despite the morbid thing they were going to do. It was a nice day, happy skies and a bright sun and birds singing. Why did it have to be for such a terrible event they got to explore like this? But Gondor was vast and they were young, there would be other opportunities.

They criss-crossed a lot through the woods and then onto the road again. Eventually they stopped at a close distance and dismounted their horses, Azraindil tethering the reins to a tree like Linny did. Look at her, doing so much without a chaperone or sibling to police her. Clutching the sides of her riding skirt so that the hem didn’t drag along the forest floor, lifting it up to her ankles, she followed Linny on foot to the bank of the river, overlooking the ruined bridge. The water trickled along in it’s endless torrent, while the sun shone brightly. There didn’t seem to be any other humans about. Azraindil didn’t break the silence until Linny did.

”What’s the closest we can get?” She inquired, and despite the fast moving water, she was confident in her own swimming ability to risk it a little. Not that she wanted to fall in and return with a soaked and ruined outfit. Too many questions they would have to answer. ”So…he was crossing and it just happened to collapse the moment he was on it?” She asked, walking along the bank and standing perhaps under where someone would have came upon the bridge atop, had it still been standing.

”The weight of him and his horse must have been the…what is it my Adar says? From Harad. The straw that broke the camel’s back.” She mused, peering at the wreckage, rotting and decaying logs of lumber, clearly cut and shaped by human hands, not the odd log or thick branch that floated down the river, dislodged by some storm naturally from the thickets about. ”That’s quite a coincidence, huh.” She said, entirely unconvinced that it was. She had no proof or evidence but something in her gut wasn’t right. But there were plenty of tragic stories with these same characteristics of bad luck and misfortune. Wrong place, wrong time.

”How far have you traversed the ruin?” Did Linny go into the waters even a bit? Out to the middle? ”No way to bring a boat or a raft…tie a rope to yourself and wade out or something…” she mused on some very infeasible possibilities.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

Dulinneth Talven
Túrion Dornea, Dor-en-Ernil
April 24th, Fourth Age

"Maybe to the edge," Linn suggested, as for how close they could get. Right at the bank, where the bridge began. "I don't trust the support poles and the umm, whatchamacallits, the part you walk on? I think they might be getting more rotten every year that passes." She sighed. "But the first year I came upon it, like.. three years ago, I think? it was still mostly solid, then. The water was just as high then, but I didn't know it was dangerous," She explained. "That's when I found that tube." She pointed out toward the end of the bridge, about to the place where the water swallowed up the bridge. "It was caught on one of the boards, and I went right out to the edge to grab it. That's when I fell in."

She was glad she'd worn her tall riding boots today, because the ground near the bank was a little muddy. She tried not to get too close to the edge where her feet sank into the deeper mud. She didn't want to leave tracks, for one thing, but she also didn't want to get too muddy. "Well, according to the forester who I talked to," Linn answered with a little frown, "he was crossing the bridge, when a flashflood came crashing through and swept away the middle of the bridge, with him on it." Linn frowned. "But what I don't get is, why didn't Aearon hear the flashflood coming?" She crossed her arms. "Everyone I've talked to about it says that flash floods happen really suddenly, but you can hear one coming because it's loud." She explained. "I mean, if we heard a really loud, crashing sort of noise coming from upstream, we'd know to run away from the bank. Aearon would've known that, too." That matter was troubling her. That was one of the main things that had started her thinking that there was something off about this whole thing.

"Oh, I've been all around it," Linn answered Gaer's next question. "During the dry season in late summer, the water level is a lot lower. Rhovan and I went out under the bridge. I drew some pictures of what I saw. I'll show you when we get back." Sadly, because of the season, the waters were too high and too swift for it to be safe to try and sort of swimming. The current was way too strong, Linn knew from experience. Although the idea of tying a rope to herself was a good idea, she thought. Except, the water would also be way too cold, given that only a couple of days ago they'd had a cold snap and there'd been snow. "I thought about trying to get a boat, once. But I didn't know how to get one here. And besides, the current is pretty strong." She frowned, remembering how the river had pulled at her as if trying to swallow her up.

"I'm not really sure if there's anything more to see here," Linn sighed. "I wish you could've come when the water was lower. It's a lot easier to see things." She shrugged slightly. "I feel like I'm sorta at a loss, really. I've looked at the bridge so many times, from so many angles. I have drawings of everything that looked like it could be useful." She sighed, wishing that she could find some sort of lead that she hadn't found yet. "I don't know. Maybe it's just... too much for me." She mentioned, frowning a little in discouragement. "Or maybe.. I'm only imagining that there's something off?" She frowned as a thought struck her suddenly. "I wonder who found him, originally?" Perhaps it was morbid for her to be thinking about such things, especially with it being her brother she was talking about. But it surprised her to realize that in all this time, she had never once considered finding out who had actually found Aearon's body after he died. Whoever that was, maybe they had something useful to tell?

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lady Azraindil Dimaethor
Túrion Dornea, Edhellon River, Dor-en-Ernil
Late April, Fourth Age

I don’t trust the support poles and the umm, whatchamacallits, the part you walk on…?

”Uhh, floor boards? Bridge boards?” Azraindil suggested, the right word just hovering beyond the tip of her tongue, both girls apparently bird brained in the moment. But it struck her and she snapped her fingers. ”Platform? The platform part is the part you walk on.” She nodded understandingly to Linny’s warning. But the matter wasn’t as important as Linny detailed her findings, how the bridge was right after the accident, where she found the tube with Aearonor’s diary entry, and how apparently the incident all happened. Azraindil nodded and following along, eyes sweeping back and forth over the scene, picturing it in her mind, the poor boy flailing, going under, all alone, and scared, and lost forever. Her heart panged miserably.

One moment, chattering nonsensically with her best friend, the next, terribly mournful and sad. The whiplash was enough to make anyone feel sick again. The sadness and sense of helplessness really did make her stomach turn. My, our, poor Aearonor… But she had to keep a strong face on it. He should have heard the crashing of the water and all beneath the bridge. Why did he risk it then? And why wasn’t the bridge rebuilt? There wasn’t much they could gleam at this present moment, the level of the water and all. No chance of getting a boat here either. There might not be any sort of gain to seeing the scene of the incidence at all. Besides filling Azraindil with a sorrow and dread.

She came and gave Linny a half-hug, an arm around the other girl’s shoulders, rubbing the side of her far arm in silent commiseration. ”It’s a lot for two little ladies like us. Certainly a lot for just one. But as much as you did, I’m sure Aearon would be proud of you for trying. Someone’s got to, at least, right? You think something feels off, there’s no harm in checking or verifying, even if it does reveal a little truth. These baby steps could be like…the first little pebbles that roll before the avalanche comes down. You might be closer than you think. It’s just hard to see right now.” She tried to offer up some moral support.

”When is the water lowest? What season?” She inquired to Linny. ”Maybe I can come back around then. We can sneak off here again. Tie a rope around me, I’ll try swimming out. There might even be stuff under the water.” She mused aloud, trying to keep their heads up with possibilities of finding new clues or evidence. She had swan in strong waters before, back home. She could keep her head above. Here, the current might just push her downstream a bit but she could just simply walk back along shore. Or maybe she was overestimating herself.

And… ”I think that’s another mystery we need to look into. Who found him after he…” She frowned a moment but it did make sense. Remember when the ladies were taken during the joust, how quick the response time was just to locate their whereabouts after leaving the hall for a hour or two? Surely someone worried about Aearonor the same way. ”It still doesn’t make sense to me either, why he crossed the bridge if the waters were raging and all, a flashflood going on. Wouldn’t he have waited or did he think it was safe and secure to cross? Was it just…really bad timing, him crossing the middle and the bridge just collapsed? You think something was wrong with the supports when you went under? That someone may have…messed with them?” But how could they have known a flashflood would come at a time he would be crossing? Or was such a thing planned out that far in advance?

She left it unsaid because the implications were… ”I’m thinking crazy right now.” She smirked drily, shaking her head. It was a lot for two little ladies.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

Dulinneth Talven
Túrion Dornea, Dor-en-Ernil
April 24th, Fourth Age

"Floor boards... decking?" Linn guessed as well, before Gaer suggested a better word. "Platform. Sure, we'll go with platform." She laughed. It was totally unnecessary for them to even pick the proper word. They both knew what she was talking about. But whatever. They had decided on 'platform'. And now the topic was over.

She stood for a moment in sadness, looking at the bridge. She had never seen a flash flood before, but the foresters and lumber men and everyone said that it was common enough for them to sweep through here. They had described to her how the rain would swell the river until it couldn't hold the water anymore. How the water would come rushing down so fast, it could even pull small trees and things along with it, until it was like an avalanche of water crashing through. She'd seen the devestation left behind after one, last year. Everyone who worked in the lumber camps knew better than to get near the river during such an event. Linn had only been about ten when she first learned about those, and even she knew better than to get too close. She knew what to listen for. She couldn't possibly imagine Aearon being foolish enough to try crossing the bridge if he heard such a noise approaching.

But she'd said all of that, already. She shook her head slightly as she drew her thoughts back to the present as Gaer came to hug her. Linn smiled faintly to hear Gaer say that Aearon would be proud. "I wish I could find his journal," She sighed. "Or, well... I wish I could find the key to that box in his room. I'm almost certain his journal's inside it." There must be important clues in there, right?

Gaer's next question made her think for a second. "August, I think. Maybe September. Sometime around then," She answered. "We sometimes get storms in July, but sometimes we don't, so the water could be lower then, too." She shrugged. The answer, therefore, was a general 'late summer-ish'. She grinned. "You might not even need a rope, then. The current isn't so strong at that time, so maybe we could swim around in secret, and see what we can find. One time, I got Rhovan to walk out in the water when it was pretty low, and then I stood on his back and drew a picture of the underside of the bridge supports. It's one of the ones I have on the board, back at home. I'll show you again when we get back there." She smiled at the mention of things being under the water. "Further downstream, when the water is lower, you can see some of the pieces of the bridge sticking up. But only when the water gets low."

As for who found Aearon, Linn tried to think about how she might find that out. "Let's ride back, shall we?" She suggested, a little anxious about someone catching them here. " I don't think there's anything else we can do, here." On the way back to their horses, she listened to Gaer's thoughts about Aearon crossing the bridge. It mirrored her own thoughts. "Well.. I have a theory," She admitted. "I haven't proven it or anything, so I was a little reluctant to speak up to anyone. But if you keep it between us..?" She glanced around to double check that they were alone, and no one was eavesdropping. "I don't think there was a flashflood until sometime after he'd drowned." She answered.

"I think he crossed the bridge when it should have been safe. I think someone pulled out some nails and bolts and stuff, so the bridge would collapse the moment anyone tried to cross." She whispered. "I think it.. but I don't know how to prove it." She frowned. "That's why I want to check about the carpentry thing. There's some marks on the wood, but I don't know what they are. I'm hoping to find out. Because.. if it's what I think it might be, it might just prove that the support things were tampered with." She frowned thoughtfully as she thought more about it.

"Everyone knew that Aearon made regular trips around our land, to check on every homestead and hamlet and worker's camp, to see how they're doing, if they need anything, and other stuff that lords have to handle.. I don't know all the details. But he did it. Often," She explained. "That year, it was right after the battles and everything in Minas Tirith, so he figured there'd be lots of repairs to be made all over. So he didn't wait for my father to return from war to come with him as he usually did. My father had gone to fight in the Pelennor and hadn't returned home yet," She explained. "Anyway... I don't think you're crazy. Cause.. it's the same things I've been thinking." She said quietly.

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lady Azraindil Dimaethor
Túrion Dornea, Edhellon River, Dor-en-Ernil
Late April, Fourth Age

All the ruination and destruction caused by the War. Yet even in Minas Tirith and the Pelennor, where the hammer fell hardest, there had been much clean up and repair. Yet here, at this crossing, the damage still remained, a terrible sore that would not be healed. A broken bridge, shattered trees, debris washed up on the shore, and signs of unrelenting water flows that could still sweep it all away. And yet it hadn’t, as if nature itself was trying to say…there wasn’t the proper closure. Still so many unanswered questions. The locked box, the diary, and the key for one. Was it not on Aearonor’s body when recovered? Maybe someone had taken it off of him.

You might not even need a rope, then. ”Better to be safe.” Azraindil said, the undertones of this place on her mind. Don’t need to add to the tragedy by the loss of another life. She nodded about the picture and gazed at the ruined struts and bridge supports. These things should have been built to last the elements. How then did one flash flood knock it all over? That seemed to be the crux of the issue as she walked back to the horses with Linny, not much else to see at this present time. Later in the year, perhaps.

Linny had a theory though. And she needn’t even ask Azraindil to keep quiet about it. ”Promise.” She assured her friend as they stood with their horses. And it was…astonishing. Aeaonor might have drowned before the flashflood, implying it was not an accident, but premediated. Honestly, Azraindil’s thoughts had been drifting to such a conclusion for a while, that someone or a group of people had conspired to remove Aearonor, and Anurion as well, from life. Someone must have tampered with the bridge. His route and habits were well known, so it was easy to plan for. It would have collapsed under the strain of weight from Aearonor and his horse. He would have been killed or severely wounded in the fall. And if wounded…that might mean someone had to…finish him off. Hence the marks recorded around his neck.

Azraindil was pale. And she felt sick again. Who would, so cruelly, so mercilessly, murder the young man like that? ”If you’re thinking it…and I’m thinking it…then we’re not crazy, right? But then why doesn’t anyone else see it? Is that why they don’t want you asking about it? Even your Mother. Wouldn’t she want to…” Azraindil had to stop herself, speaking on things already answered and perhaps not want to be needled at anymore. Something was being purposefully hidden. That much she knew for certain.

She clambered onto the back of Malen, staring back towards the bridge. ”I believe you fully. Something happened. And it was not an accident. But we have no real proof. The carpentry thing is good to ask about. And the diary more. Make me a copy of the drawings. Maybe I can explain it to someone uninvolved, act like I have an interest in carpentry, bridge building, architecture.” She waved her hand vaguely. She was suggesting a lot of playacting, a lot of…lying. It’ll have to be far from here and the chances of any explanation was moot.

”And,” she swallowed and steeled herself. ”I’ll talk to Toggornir tonight. Maybe I can…steer the conversation, under a guise of grief and sorrow, towards that day. See if he might reveal something about his own whereabouts and activities then. Say things like…maybe you could have saved him if you were there. He might say something. You could…eavesdrop or listen in, right? Is there a particular room I should request to talk in? I know there’ll be a chaperone and all.” Or not. And she would have spent an evening humouring an ugly minded man and his rude attitudes. But that was a small sacrifice to make.

Linny too unfortunately will have to hear Azraindil pretend to like Toggornir. It made her shake with revulsion. And a little humour. She thought of the masquerade and the…pretending. Except with Sir Fox, it had been so easy to be honest with him. ”Should we ride truly now, having seen this?” She suggested as a way to end off their little expedition, to ride as carefree ladies on horseback through this vast and beautiful land, to at least get some joy out of it if they can. Maybe find some fields and meadows where they could really get some speed and haste.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

Dulinneth Talven
Túrion Dornea, Dor-en-Ernil
April 24th, Fourth Age

Thinking back about that scary day, when she'd fallen in the river and nearly got swept away, Linn nodded. "Yes, best be safe," She agreed with her friend. A rope they would use, then. Just like Maerdor had used to pull Linn to safety, back then.

Linn bit her lip as her friend asked why no one else was asking these questions. Why no one else saw what it was that they were seeing. She shook her head slightly. "I think..." She said tentatively, "Maybe no one else wants to believe that anything is amiss. I mean.. without knowing the things we know about the bridge supports, the flash flood thing, and those marks on Aearon's neck... who would ever dream that he'd been killed?" She asked softly. "Before I started telling you any of this, or showing you things, had it ever occurred to you as a possibility? I mean... they said the bridge had gotten washed away in a flood, that Aearon got swept away when he tried to cross, and that he turned up on the banks, drowned."

She let out a quiet sigh as her thoughts went to her own last memory of Aearon, her eldest brother. He had let her sit on his horse while he was getting him ready for his last trip. When he went to go inside to get Anurion, Linn had told him goodbye and wished him a good trip before running off to play. She'd had no idea it would be the last time she ever saw him. She'd had no idea about Anurion getting 'sick' until later. And she'd had no idea the tragedy and grief her family would be cast into, as a result of Aearon setting off on that last trip. Her own heart felt heavy as she thought of the huge hole left by him, but she tried to comfort herself by remembering the way he had talked with her, lighthearted and funny, making jokes and being silly to make her laugh while they were in the barn together. How he'd lifted her off the horse's back and spun her around and around in the air like she was flying, before setting her on the ground. Telling her to run along and play now. Then he'd gone inside to get Anurion... and that must be when he'd come upon Togg standing over him...

She sighed and climbed up onto her horse. "Mother..." Linn began answering her friend's partial question, but hesitated. She knew her mother wasn't involved. She was certain of that. "she's fragile." She admitted softly. "She wants everyone to believe she's strong-willed, but she has such poor health," She frowned. "I worry about her. But she doesn't want anyone to know. She doesn't want anyone gossiping, or talking about how frail she's becoming, and... I think she didn't want anyone talking about her sons, either." She explained. "I had no idea Anurion had any sort of health issues, and he's my brother." She pointed out. "She doesn't want anyone to know, because she doesn't want anyone knowing any of our family's weakness," She rolled her eyes slightly, but smiled faintly over at Gaer.

"As for the.. Aearon thing," Linn's faint smile faded entirely. "We don't talk about it to her because it upsets her to hear about his death." She explained. "When he died, she took it hard. She almost died, herself. I.. don't remember it a whole lot, because Glirdis kept me away from Mother a lot during that time, but I heard that she was in such a state of grief, they thought she'd simply waste away and die. She wouldn't eat, and she lost all will to do much of anything, and she kept herself secluded up in her own room a lot..." She frowned. This wasn't a pleasant thing to discuss. "I think it was your mother who started getting her to come back to us," Linn mentioned, softly. She didn't elaborate, but Gaer could probably guess. Their mothers had been as good friends as Gaer and Linn were, right? So Lady Dimaethor must have known something to say to her friend that would snap her out of it, and get her to take interest in life again.

Linn was happy for a change in topic, after that. As Gaer probably was, too, since bringing up her mother might not be the best topic. Back to the case, and the matter of carpentry, and the drawings. Linn nodded. "I'll do what I can." She promised. Then, she made a face as Gaer suggested talking to Togg. "Good luck, there." She meant that. He was horrible. But, of course, he would be on his good behavior for Gaer. "But I bet he'd just lie about where he was, anyway." She shrugged.

After that, they moved to talking about other matters. Insignificant things, or recollecting the time they'd enjoyed in the city this past December after the masquerade ball, and talking about other upcoming events and things. After a while, Linn showed her to a clearing where she'd been sneaking off to practice archery.

Eventually, they returned. It was inevitable, after all. Partly because they needed to clean up for supper, but then, afterward, Gaer had obligations to spend some time with her betrothed. While Gaer went to prepare herself for that, Linn slipped into Aearon's room and gathered up her drawings of the clues, and the piece of wood she hoped to send with Gaer. She took those into her room for now, and spent the rest of the evening working on making copies of those drawings. The piece of wood, she wrapped in a blanket, and tucked it under her bed for now. She would wait until the right time, then she'd smuggle it out to Gaer's cabin so she could bring it with her to Minas Tirith. And hopefully, find some answers.

(Bridge view, from platform | Bridge debris further downstream | Under poles, while leaning over the side | Side angle of bridge, medium level water | Support poles during low water | Support poles, up close | Support poles, closer still | Broken platform during high water season | piece of intact platform debris | Supports at low water | Markings on a broken piece of wood)

[Ercassie]

Private with @Arnyn. With mention made of @Lantaelen

Ehtyar Ilisys Azrubel. Seizing a moment with Lieutenant Dealedwen
Briefly ashore in Andrast, as part of the Rangers Sea Training on ‘The Bregolalph, January.

It was only when Arnyn had already accepted the plate, that Isys observed the small grains of sand which still coated her own hands, from recent ‘labour’ on the further shore. The efficient dunk and washing with water saw any traces swiftly from the crockery she had transferred them to. But the Ehtyar did not seek to cleanse her palms so swiftly. Turning them slowly over instead and in silence, as the Lieutenant took what might have been a passing gesture into a try at perhaps something more. It was the first time that the two of them had spoken privately since October.

“We are here to grow familiar with what we are not used to,” she recited, without meeting the other woman’s eye. Willing to assure the Lieutenant that she understood the assignment, rather than believing that any reminder was required. But if there was any deeper level to her statement ..she debated whether to elaborate. And seemed to make her decision, although there was no immediate outward indication.


“My mother’s people are of Rast Heledh,” she confided then, after a pause to convince herself, suddenly. And it might almost seem abruptly, as grey eyes flicked up to find the brown. Not sure what reaction she might evoke. Whatever it did, did not stall her proceeding. “It is an estate built up around a small Lebennin town, known for it’s prowess in the art of blowing glass,” the Ehtyar further shared, as though the explanation would now be apparent. It was not. Yet. “They fulfil high grade orders throughout the entire kingdom. Very .. exquisite.” The Belfalasian tucked a smile into her chin with a small release of amusement, rather than arrogance. “When she married my father, she presented him with an extremely ornate and elegant hour glass. That is sand inside a sculpted, sealed, bottle, used for observing the passing of time. For when he was a-ship. My father used to say it reminded him of home; the grains of Lond Col’s beaches enveloped safely inside the small glass case of Rast Heledh. He said he would have been lost without it. His heart’s compass, as it were.”

Isys took her gaze back to her hands, and slowly began to smooth the small grains of sand off her skin. “My previous experience of sailing had been as just such an hour glass. Excusable but not integral,” she explained. Or believed that to be the case, at least. A furrowing of the woman’s smooth brow indicated she was not convinced that this, that any of this, was the right thing to do. She doubted whether the purpose was obvious to Arnyn either. The Ehtyar was not known for being .. obvious.


“So I have known the shifting deck beneath my feet, the saline spray against my skin, the gulls cry from above, and the utter absence of any sight of clear shore. These things are familiar to me,” the smile was almost sad this time. “And I may be able to name you any part of that great vessel in several languages,” Her eyes flicked toward the shapely silhouette of the swan ship, anchored on the horizon. “Such is the truth of nautical studies for the most adventurous ladies in Belfalas. They let me read the books that they have wrote. And I have been schooled to comprehend how their tools function, how they navigate their crossings and scheme out most cunning combat on the high seas. All so that I can properly comprehend their stories, and understand how clever they are, rather than with thought that I might ever make any stories of my own. The Men who sail in my company have ever tended to wave me away from actually working those same parts which I have been instructed to understand, toward any actual, useful function,” she admitted the extents of her experience to the officer. As though this were a professional exchange.

“Perhaps I allowed them to persevere under such a delusion. That no woman could do what they did. Perhaps I felt that, after challenging their notions of what a woman could do in the field, it felt fair to let them commandeer the seas without due interruption. They would never expect me to physically haul a line or raise an oar or ascend the rigging. Only to amaze at their capacity to do so, and comprehend the consequences of their skill. Save for only one. The one man, aside from a doting father, who has ever entertained my curiosity to try such things with my own hand. Allowing for all the learning to be made some use at last. On the way home from Umbar, there was no call to stand idle, to be admired for understanding, to silently observe. We had need of every hand that could be made use of. He made the call. Everybody justified it afterwards of course. Desperate need makes for unlikely measures. Everything changed after that.”


Her words had grown ever more quiet as the exposition was unravelled. There was no need for her to seek out sight of Abrazimir. For there could be no other who she was speaking about. “We have our little traditions, the Ship’s captain and I,” she concluded then, her accounting. “His wine is of an equal quality to his every other aspect. And I can testify, that no elixir brewed will see our bold ship’s captain compromised in any commitment he has sworn his word to. He has grown well.” Turning to gaze out across the sea, Isys did not set keen observation upon Arnyn when she made question of her own, in turn.

“It is a rare man amongst his peers, who would so willingly allow women .. even rangers, to tend the grasp of his ship,” she pointed out. In case the honour of them, any of them, undergoing what they were, had been lost in the cause that had inspired it. “But our cause is mutual, even if you were not raised familiar with songs of the great water,” the statement did not sound as though a question. And she had been taught it was unwise to assume. But she too had sight, and having been already quite familiar with the basics of sea training, had enjoyed the opportunity to observe those who were not, as they learned in turn. It was evident who had heard the songs they had entertained themselves with, before .. or never until now. “Wine it seems is not an interest you are of like to share,” she ducked her head, though not in embarrassment. Before turning to face the Lieutenant. “But I suppose nobody ever asked you. Whether you find any joy beyond the duty in all of this ?” she asked, sincere in observing her answer, as much in words as other means. “The sea is simply, wildly, exquisite,” she smiled. “It can be a perilous thing to trust. The unfamiliar.”

Isys rested with her knees raised up as mountains in front of her, sitting on her already sand-dirtied hands.

[Arnyn]

Private with @Ercassie

Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
Briefly ashore in Andrast, as part of the Rangers Sea Training on The Bregolalph
January

Isys' initial reply gave Arnyn pause. It was no secret, by now - regardless of the limited communication between them - that the Ehtyar had a proclivity to speaking in layers. The challenge was to determine how deep those layers went, on each separate occasion, and not to lay meaning where it was not actually intended by the communicator.

Be all that as it may... the Lieutenant had long before this conversation gotten the idea that the way Isys communicated was much more deliberate than appearances might suggest to most. For Arnyn was, after all, among the experts at intangible armour. Which enabled her to more easily recognize it in others.

What held Arnyn back from reaching any definite conclusions, of course, was the Lieutenant's aversion to assumption. Which is why, at this point - before Isys launched into an entirely unexpected moment of sharing - Arnyn strongly reminded herself that any of her perceived reasons (for at least a part of) Isys' outward presentation, were indeed no more than a feeling. And Arnyn knew all too well that there was not all that much - objectively speaking - for her to go on. Instincts could be off. Projection was a thing. She knew it was wise to tread carefully with such matters.

Thus Arnyn remained quiet while Isys continued, launching into uncharted territory, at least between the two of them. Silent - because Arnyn was listening carefully, and trying to determine those layers, and holding that feeling about 'armour' to the light to see if it had any merit whatsoever.

Arnyn's gaze drifted to the ship, then back to the sand ashore, the dishes before her - and finally, the dark-haired warrior who was so surprisingly offering a glimpse into her life.

She'd had no idea that Isys' mother was from Lebennin. Given the very limited interactions Isys and Arnyn had shared, and this unexpected approach... Arnyn did not question why the Ehtyar was telling her any of it. If the other woman was seeking to build a bridge between them, Arnyn was definitely open to that. Of course she was. And if it was not meant as a way of bonding, then Arnyn did not doubt that there was a different reason Ilisys was bringing it up. At the mention of the hour glass, the Lieutenant nodded in understanding, but her attention piqued when Isys shared her father used to call it his heart's compass. The hour glass encompassed the arts of Isys' mother's home, and the sand of her father's. It had been a beautiful thing to him. And why wouldn't it be? It had all the makings of a family heirloom. And Isys was telling her that. The little smile that appeared on Arnyn's face was not at all forced. Not even when she considered that, if Isys' father had always taking it with him on a sea voyage - that it was now more likely than not lost at sea. And Arnyn felt sorry for that.

The Lieutenant's hands slowed when Isys compared her previous experience at sea to that hourglass. But she did not have to wait long for an explanation. But when it came, Arnyn had not expected it. This... was a move, on Isys' part, that seemed... too personal. Much too personal, for what Arnyn had come to expect. But she recognized something there. And the idea or feeling that Isys had her own kind of armour, her own kind of walls, just as Arnyn did, suddenly seemed much less at risk of being no more than a mere projection. Suddenly, it seemed... all too realistic.

There was no doubt, of course, of whom Isys was referring to, when she spoke of the only man besides her father who ever considered and allowed her to step beyond the Men's realm of expectations aboard a ship. Arnyn's work with the dishes halted as she wiped her hands dry on the parts of her pants which were not coated in sand. Abrazimir accepted Isys for who she was. That was rare for anyone, really. And given everything Isys had challenged within her circles, which Abrazimir also belonged to, it was even more remarkable, wasn't it? Naturally, their friendship was strong. And small traditions followed easily, then. Another smile softened the thoughtfulness prevalent on the Lieutenant's face. And although she could not know for sure just how deep the connection between Isys and Abrazimir went, based off of Isys' words, it was clearly deep enough. And Arnyn recognized the rarity of it, too. Especially with a man.

And then the Ehtyar literally made mention of it. 'It is a rare man amongst his peers, who would so willingly allow women ..' Yes. Even though Arnyn would have hoped things to be different, by now at least, it was no surprise that they were not. For all of Gondor's open views, for all their inclusivity, not every region was the same. Not every field was the same. And even Minas Tirith had its problems - no matter how inclusive (or, according to some, dangerous) people thought the city's views were.

Isys opened up the conversation, then, even asking Arnyn questions directly. For a moment, the Lieutenant considered pointing out her surprise, for she did not allow much of it to cross her face. But rather than do such a thing, she instead moved away from the raised stand of dishes, to slowly claim a seat of her own upon the sands. Not too close to encroach on a personal bubble... but close enough to converse without their voices carrying too far.

"I've held him in high regard," Arnyn first confirmed, even while still crossing her legs and moving to rest her hands lightly upon her knees. "Even before we started... all of this." She resisted the urge to busy her hands by running them through the sand, and instead smiled faintly. "I'm not familiar with the songs, no," she admitted. "Although I enjoyed them." She had taken part, at times, in singing them aboard the ship, although her voice had remained one of the more quiet ones, and she had only ventured to do so when the other voices had been many, so her own might be of little consequence among them. The small smile grew into a crooked little smirk when Isys mentioned her lack of interest in wine, and Arnyn gave a little nod. "It seems I am not alone in that particular lack of interest, among our current company." Which was refreshing. "I do not particularly enjoy the taste. Nor the way it might affect me if moderation were forgotten."

The question of joy... made Arnyn draw in a slow breath. And then she huffed the breath back out, in not quite a laugh. But close to it. "The sea seems to be the opposite of things I prefer to seek out," she pointed out, not blind to the irony. "I like to be in control, but the sea does not allow such a thing. I like steadiness, while the sea is wobbly. Its waves are immune to strategy in the traditional sense."

Her right hand brushed some sand off her knee. "But I've rarely avoided a challenge. And I do... enjoy... one that allows me to learn. This exercise has shown me that ships have structure. Naval combat has logic. Experienced sailors can read the sea like rangers have learned to read terrain. Obviously, none can control the water. But you can prepare for what it might throw at you." Her hand stilled again, after Arnyn realized that she was only having limited success in removing the sand.

"I enjoy working with others to manage the chaos - and the steadiness is to be found in that cooperation. In the trust we can make it through the storm together. Even if the storm itself wants to scare me out of my wits." That was one of the best things of being a ranger, too. Surely the comparison would not be lost upon the Ehtyar. That mutual trust in each other's skills and unique capabilities, which enabled them to make it out alive on the other side of something terrible and terrifying, and protect others in the process. And so she also responded to one of Isys' other phrases, with her dark eyes firmly upon the horizon. "I do not trust the sea. I trust the people there with me."

Did Arnyn enjoy the sea? Yes. But not like Kaylin, who would thrive in the chaos and laugh carefree in the spray of the sea's waters. No - Arnyn enjoyed it like a strategist learning a new battlefield. Like a woman who refused to be at the mercy of anything, not even the ocean.

Silence fell between them for a moment. But Arnyn was not yet done. Isys was.. extending a hand. How could she ignore that? She could not. She did not want to, either. If anything, Arnyn thrived on mutual understanding. It was a strange contradiction that she guarded herself so well, as a rule. She knew that. But it was what it was. And given the hand Isys was offering... Arnyn was willing to let the Ehtyar see part of the why.

"I was not raised in Belfalas." Obviously. "I was raised in Ithilien, mostly. With brief stays in Minas Tirith. And back then, in Ithilien..." Her gaze ventured back to isys. "Children learned to defend themselves. The boys and the girls. For no more reason than where we lived, and the wish of our parents for us to stand a chance, should the worst happen. So, my brother and I - we learned the basics together. I had the advantage of having not one but two parents who'd taken up arms. I was allowed no less than my brother, in those woods."

“Minas Tirith was… a bit of a surprise,” Arnyn continued. “Obviously, it was - and is - not as... fixed... as Belfalas.” Isys and Arnyn's situation had been, and was to this day, very different because of that. “Minas Tirith adjusted. When it had to. The war helped with that.” A pause. “By the time I joined, I was nowhere near the first, nor the only."

"I no longer had to prove that it was 'possible'. Only that I was one of those who could do it.” An acknowledgement that she had been much luckier than the other, when it came to conquering prejudice and tradition. “The Men let us try.” Her gaze shifted again, following the line of the horizon. Her hands remained idle upon her knees, though she was fighting the need to busy them. Perhaps stepping away from the dishes had been a mistake.

“For many of the Men, us proving ourselves in training and the field was enough. For others…” Her chin tilted, just slightly, and she didn't finish the sentence. She didn't need to. But the unsaid words lingered in the space between them regardless. “When I earned rank,” Arnyn continued, tone unchanged, “certain reactions became… louder.” Her fingers now lightly curled around her knees. "Those who had only doubted me before, suddenly did not want to let me be who I had become. For them, even some of those who'd joined around the same time I had, it became less about skill and potential, and more about the differences between us.” Or about what they perceived as inherent differences. Too young. Too weak. Too... blonde. Too smiley. Too soft. Too.. whatever else they chose to name, other than the fact she wasn't a man. While Isys and Arnyn's situation was nowhere near the same... there were at least some parallels.

She refused to admit outright that what had been said by some - to her and about her, back then - had stung. How her competence had seemed to wither in the eyes of Men who felt threatened by her young age when becoming an officer, threatened by someone of her 'more delicate gender' being allowed to order them around, tell them when to risk their lives and when to retreat. But, of course it had stung.

Arnyn looked back at Isys, then. “So I adapted. In how I carried myself. In how much room I left. Because they were looking for gaps. And I wasn't willing to offer them any. So I built..." Walls. But she wasn't about to say that out loud. "A certain reputation. And those voices grew smaller. Until they were hardly heard, and they no longer dared speak up in places where it might reach the ears of those who disagreed." Of course, in a way, they could still claim a victory. For while she had not changed who she was, she had locked parts of who she was away from the public, only to be shared with her family by blood, of whom now only her brother remained. And - in smaller part - by two northern brothers. All three of whom she had sent off to what may very well mean their deaths.

"We are very different women," Arnyn showed her understanding of that much. "But we have both found ways to achieve what others would have sought to deny us. Finding the right people is a part of that. But the strength of our own will is, too."

In spite of her words, so calmly spoken, an anxious feeling of uncertainty curled around her spine. Odds were, she had taken it too far. Odds were the Ehtyar would run. Arnyn felt like she had taken another one of her gambles, and she swallowed as she lowered her gaze back to the sand in between Isys and her.

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lady Azraindil Dimaethor
Túrion Dornea, Edhellon River, Dor-en-Ernil
Late April, Fourth Age

Azraindil had to shake her head at the notion of it ever crossing her mind prior her arrival here that Aearonor had been murdered. Her parents too had believed it had been an accident. And something similar must have befallen Anurion when he vanished, only more tragic in that his body could not be recovered. But Dulinneth had amassed such a web of facts and possibilities, connecting them through very feasible reasoning and deductions, that it was now all Azraindil could ever think. Someone had conspired to remove the brothers. And their trail was being covered up through lethargy and emotion. The truth was buried deep.

Or maybe the girls were just crazy. But never had their pretend-games and daydreaming roamed to such a dark state of affairs.

”Having been so sick myself recently, I can sympathize with your Mother. Imagine feeling that way every day for years…” Azraindil sighed and kept her eyes downcast on Malen’s neck, letting the horse followed at it’s own leisure behind Rhovan. She understood the need to guard such facts about health. She heard plenty of times from her own Adar the importance of perception and repute, that power came from one’s perception by others. Such was the demand of society and all. It seemed so unfair at times. And made little sense at others. Why so much stock and importance on what other people, other families, thought of you? Your own countrymen too. It was astounding at times.

Azraindil’s mother had been one of those who was able to draw Duvanieth from her grief. But Orelnith Dimaethor too had gone on to Mandos. And much of the light of the world seemed to go with her. Just hearing about her own mother stirred up the powerful griefs that still lay in her stomach. Death was a strange and terrible thing and both girls were rather racked by it. A strong sobering. And the end of innocent childhood it seemed like. The last year or two had been full of such experiences. The carefree youth of her past was evidently over.

It was time to think on the future. What were they going to do? Toggornir might be an avenue to further answers. Or, as Linny no doubt accurately guessed, more lies and deflection. Azraindil knew too that Toggornir treated the girls very differently. As a brother, he was rude and a bully to Linny. To Azraindil, he seemed to…try, to be charming and polite. Maybe he did like her a little, enough to leave himself more vulnerably. Azraindil, through experience and observation, had been noting how different people tended to react when their feelings were involved, along with desire and other such allurements.

After their ride, they returned to the manor grounds, and separated for a time, with promises to reunite later on in secret. Azraindil had a bath drawn and mused over the events and discoveries of the past days. Who would have thought would should have been a restful vacation for her turned out to be a deep matter of intrigue and danger. If their theories were correct about the brother’s lives being so threatened by assassins and assailants.

A formal dinner was to be had with her hosts, her future in-laws, and she dressed her best for the occasion. A blue gown, with a fur mantle about her shoulders, and a pale yellow cloak that reached down to her ankles, clinging close to her form. Her jewelry would be modest; three layers of necklaces made of beads and little seashells, for she was a Lady of the Seas, and very much intended to represent so wherever she might find herself in Middle-Earth. She could do up her own hair, using a mirror to fashion her long tresses in a crown braid about her brow, along with an iron circlet with carved depictions of vine about it’s length. Toggornir she hoped was stunned by her visage. And it saddened her a little to know her Mother would not be seeing her reach the full cusp of Ladyhood.

She arrived to the manor and acted the picturesque model of a Gondorian lady. She spoke Sindarin with grace in her greetings and every gesture and motion was made with calculation and long practiced precision. She curtsied for Lord Talven and embraced Lady Duvanieth compassionately. Toggornir…she compelled to kiss her hand, just to see him subservient for a moment. Get that process started. She would give the Talvens no room for criticism or doubt. Any questions about their day were answered with half-truths about their innocent exploring and riding. And that neither she nor Linny were up to anything that wasn’t expected of a Lady. But behind her sea-grey eyes were always a focus and alertness.

She sat next to Linny at the dinner table and gave her friend…a wink. She wasn’t alone in this battle anymore and two heads were definitely better than one.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

Dulinneth Talven
Túrion Dornea, Dor-en-Ernil
April 24th, Fourth Age

Linn was glad that she was not expected to stick around while Togg and Gaer spent time together. She didn't want to have to see Gaer having to pretend to like him, and she was quite glad to be able to slip off to do her own tasks. Linn's governess, or someone would be around to act as chaperone for the betrothed couple, which meant that Linn had no one to 'supervise' her own actions for the evening.

After she'd copied a couple of the pictures, she decided the rest could wait for the next day. This might be her only chance to smuggle that piece of wood out of the house without being spotted. So, she crept quietly down the back stairs meant for the servant's use. At one point though, she had to pass the parlour where Gaer and Togg were socializing together. Glirdis was clearly visible, as the door was open, but fortunately, the governess had her back to the door while she was tidying up the room. Linn paused to make sure that her brother hadn't spotted her, then she hurried past, holding the wood longwise against her body in the hope that no one would see that she was carrying anything, if they did catch a glimpse of her.

At last, she got outside and breathed a sigh of relief. The night was cool, and she wished she'd brought her cloak. Darn, why didn't she? She could've used it to help conceal the wood. But that was fine, she wasn't going back now. She still had to wait for Gaer to come back out, so she slipped into the barn and visited with Rhovan and the other horses while she waited for Gaer.

She went back to the door to look out every few minutes. Gaer's cabin was in sight from the barn door, so she was watching for the light in the window, their pre-agreed signal that she was back in her cabin and that it was safe for Linn to come. Once she saw that, she grabbed her potential evidence and hurried across the chilly lawn. Glancing around as she approached, Linn was relieved to see no one else around, so she hurried onto the porch and knocked twice, waited, then knocked twice again. A pre-arranged signal they had agreed upon, because just knocking normally was obviously too easy. They needed codes and signals for this sneaky business!

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lady Azraindil Dimaethor
Túrion Dornea, Edhellon River, Dor-en-Ernil
Late April, Fourth Age

That evening with Toggornir turned out to not be very productive in the search for answers. With Linny’s chaperone hovering in the corner like a silent statue, even a couple who were genuinely in love would have found it difficult to talk freely and openly. Azraindil of course was the picturesque model of good and proper upbringing and nobility. She chatted idly with Toggornir, asking questions about his interests, though she already knew much of the answers from her talks with Linny, but pretended to be intrigued all the same. She eventually got the conversation to turn towards the passing of his two half-brothers, and played up to Toggornir’s ego in saying that had he been around, maybe he could have saved them…

But unfortunately, Toggornir had been grounded at the time for his mischief and could not have saved anyone even if he wanted to. So that confirmed his whereabouts and potential involvement in the conspiracy, if there was one.

After this brief grieving over lost friends, the pair played various card games to pass the time until the hour grew late, and Azraindil excused herself to retire to her cabin, under escort. She beckoned Ravondaer goodnight and moved to undress her elaborate costume for the evening. It did make Toggornir rather talkative, having achieved it’s intent, if not her goal. She lit a candle at the window and just switched into her nightgown, stowing away her fancy garb, when there was a knock at the door. The signal! Azraindil hurried to open it and pull Dulinneth out of the cold night air without a word, shutting the door.

”The fire!” She first beckoned her younger friend, fussing over her indeed like a matron or governess, pulling Linny closer to the warmth and light. ”Your hands are so cold! How long have you been waiting?” She asked, concerned and all, holding Linny’s hands and squeezing them, as if she could transfer her own warm and heat to the other girl’s. ”Toggornir didn’t let on anything. He…drinks a lot, though. If anyone deserves an allergy to drink, it should be him.” She protested a little, as they sat by the fireplace.

”Is that the piece?” She finally asked about the lumber that Linny had been carrying around. She took it and examined it by the fire’s light. Nicks, engraves, indentations, where they fitted against other pieces of wood or had nails driven through them or…purposefully cut. Azraindil couldn’t tell the difference. What was man made and what was eroded by nature? She looked at the pictures next, other bits of lumber and wood carefully drawn and mapped out. A skilled carpenter could probably identify each piece, how it fit into the larger whole, how it worked and relieved the stress and strain of weight above and withstood pressures. But not her. Not these girls.

”I don’t have a clue what’s going on here…” Azraindil muttered, utterly bewildered.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

Dulinneth Talven
Túrion Dornea, Dor-en-Ernil
April 24th, Fourth Age

Hastening over to get warm by the fire, Linn set down her burden and let her friend try to warm her. "I was in the barn," She answered with a little giggle. "I was petting the horses while I waited, but then I had to cross the yard to get over here." She sat down by the hearth to warm up, listening with a sympathetic smile as her friend talked about Togg. "Yeah," She sighed. "He's always drinking." Linn rolled her eyes.

But then Gaer asked 'is that the piece?'. Linn brightened and nodded as she picked it up again. Unwrapping the blanket from the lumber, she turned it. "I found this along the bank," She explained. "I think it broke off from the rest of the structure," She explained. The piece was only a couple of feet long, making it easy to hide it in a trunk or something. "Look," She turned it over to show the strange marking on it. "See this? I don't know what it's from, but it seems.. important." She frowned, running a finger lightly over the mark. "I was hoping a carpenter might be able to identify what made that, and maybe it would help us understand what happened with the bridge."

Sighing, she offered the piece over to Gaer, then also handed her the copies of the pictures. "I made a drawing of it, too, just in case. But I haven't copied all the pictures, yet. I'll work on the rest of them tomorrow." She promised. She wrapped up the wood again, once they were done looking at it, and helped Gaer put it away in a trunk, where it would be safe.

---

The rest of the week, there was little left to investigate. Linn tried to make sure they spent the rest of the week doing fun things. Although there was still a few times spent discussing 'the case', there was little else that they could figure out about it. One of the great things about this week, besides the fact that Gaer was there, was that Linn was excused from her studies because of it. So they got to spend most of the time together, going riding in the woods every day, or just sitting in Gaer's cabin and talking. There were a few less enjoyable times when Linn had to step back and let Togg spend time with her, but fortunately he was often occupied elsewhere.

Alas, the week ended all too soon. Gaer would be leaving, and life would soon return to normal. Linn wasn't looking forward to being on her own again, but at least they could write letters. She felt as if they had only made a small amount of progress on the case, but then she reminded herself that once Gaer had settled into her new place in Minas Tirith, there were ways that her friend could further the case, while Linn just had to wait for the results. She hoped that she'd be able to find the answers to the questions they'd accumulated. While she didn't want her friend to leave, she also couldn't wait for her to arrive in Minas Tirith... and she already couldn't wait for her first letter from Gaer once she'd arrived.

[Rillewen]

(Private/Solo)

|
Amethyst & Sofia Nerennia
May of 3018, TA
Arriving in Pelargir
Continued from here

It was a couple of days before the sisters were ready to go. Amy managed to find a good price on an old, well-trained horse that the previous owners felt was too old for farm work. At last, the sisters set off through the Pelennor, leaving their house locked up, with the shutters closed. By the time they reached the South gate, Amy was feeling her patience beginning to flex a little as she was not accustomed to being in her sister’s company for very long, but she reminded herself that they were family, and they should make an effort to get along. They had never really been all that close, growing up. To be honest, Amy had always found her little sister to get on her nerves. But they were all that each other had left, now that their mother had died. So she tried her best to tolerate her annoying little sister.

Sofia complained about the horse and how old and slow it was. She also complained about having to ride, and she asked endless questions as if she were ten years younger than she was. Amy tried to remind herself that Sofia had never been but a few miles from home, so it was understandable that she’d have questions. Amy tried to be patient with her, but it was a long ride from Harlond to Pelargir.

As they finally arrived in the Harbor city of Pelargir, it was late. Amy guided both her sister and their horses through the streets, heading toward an inn that she’d heard good things about. “Stay close to me, Sof.” She warned. “There’s a lot of shady people hanging around the docks at night, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sofia replied with disregard, hardly noticing. She was looking around, eyes wide as she took in all the sights. “Wow, it’s like, enormous here! What’s that place over there?”

“Yeah, I guess it does seem pretty big,” Amy smiled, remembering that Sofia had never been here before. She glanced over. “It’s a tavern,” She replied. “Very shady, full of even more shady people. We’re definitely keeping away from there.” She informed her, then motioned her to come along. Stepping into the stable of the inn, Amy spoke to the hostler to get the horses situated before she ushered her sister into the inn itself.

“What can I do for you ladies?” The innkeeper asked with a polite smile.

Amy smiled politely in return. “I’d like a room with two beds, please. And our horses are in the stable already.” She added, letting him know that there would be a charge for stabling the horses.

The man nodded and selected a suitable room before offering her the key, and told her the amount.

As Amy handed over the coin, she paused and also took out a sketch. “I wonder, sir, if you might have ever seen this young man before?” She asked, opening up a sketch of her beloved fiance.

He studied the picture, and shook his head slowly. “No, can't say that I have. Is he wanted for something?”

Amy swiftly shook her head. “No, he’s missing.” She paused, then. “Well, I suppose you could say he’s ‘wanted’,” She added with a sad smile. “By me. I want him back, very much. So does his family.”

“I see.” He answered sympathetically. “Sorry, I haven’t seen him. Your room is up at the top of the stairs, first door on your left.” He added.

“Thank you.” Amy nodded as she folded the sketch, sighing as she put it away. Gathering her bags, she prepared to go up the stairs.

“What about anyone else?” Sofia wondered, earning a questioning glance from the innkeeper. “Has anyone else gone missing? I mean, does that sort of thing happen a lot or something?” She frowned in puzzlement.

The man shook his head. “No, can’t say that it does, at least not to my knowledge.” He paused before adding, “I do hope you find your friend, ladies.”

Amy looked back at him for a moment, then looked at Sofia and motioned for her to come on. They went up to their room. “What are you thinking?” She wondered curiously.

“Well, I dunno. It just seems weird that no one would’ve seen him before, right? Especially here, in Pelargir. Didn’t you say he spent most of a year here, training for the army or whatever?”

“He did,” Amy agreed softly. “But, he lived in the barracks, so he wouldn’t have frequented the inns or anything like that. It makes sense to me that the innkeeper wouldn’t have seen him. I just asked to.. be thorough.” She explained.

“What about taverns?” Sofia suggested. “You know, those ones you said for me to stay away from?”

“Reilly didn’t visit that sort of place,” Amy insisted. “He wouldn’t have gone there. Besides, he barely even drinks at all. Just a bit of cider or ale or something, along with a meal.”

“Well, whatever.” Sofia shrugged. “I still think it could be worth checking out.” She argued.

“He went to Linhir,” Amy pointed out. “The ferryman has records showing that he got off the ferry in Linhir. From that point, he disappeared.”

“And that means that there couldn’t be any sort of leads to follow here, in Pelargir?” Sofia folded her arms, frowning. “What if-”

“Sofia,” Amy sighed in exasperation. “Do you think I haven’t checked into all this, already? I spent the last six months doing exactly that.”

“Alright.” Sofia shrugged. “Fine, whatever.” She flopped down on the nearest bed. “We’ll go to Linhir then. Check the places you already checked. Again.”

Amy sat on the opposite bed, setting down her bags. “I’m not trying to.. shoot down your ideas, you know. It’s just… I don’t want to waste time checking into things that I have already checked. I want to go beyond Linhir, and maybe beyond the beacon, and see if there might be something there that I missed.” She explained. “I’m sorry.. I’m just really tired. I think we’d better both get some sleep, alright?”

Sofia yawned and nodded, lying back on her bed. “Sounds good to me.” She folded her hands behind her head and listened while her big sister spent some time getting ready for bed. Then, she listened while Amy began to fall asleep. The sisters had shared a room in their small homestead for all of their growing up, and Sofia knew how to tell when Amy had fallen to sleep. Once she heard her breathing change to that deeper, steady rhythm, the younger sister rose up again. She tiptoed over to Amy’s pack, and quietly searched through it until she found that sketch she had shown to the innkeeper. Maybe it could be helpful.

Next, she grabbed her sister’s coin pouch and clenched it tight in one fist to keep the coins from jingling. “Don’t worry, Sis.” She whispered, glancing back at her sleeping sister. “I’ll help you find him.” She smiled and then slipped out of the room.

---

Sofia
In a shady tavern in Pelargir
meeting NPCs, Larik & Lathan
(May of 3018)

The tavern was loud and crowded. Someone was singing, and she could hear people laughing. It sounded like people were having a lot of fun! Why would Amy want her to stay away from someplace like that? Sofia rolled her eyes at her sister’s overprotectiveness. As if Sofia couldn’t take care of herself. Stepping inside, the girl smiled as she took in the atmosphere. Everyone was a stranger to her, and that was part of what made it all so exciting! She had no idea who she might meet. Maybe someone would have a lead for her sister! Maybe someone here had actually met Reilly. Maybe she’d meet someone who could tell her exactly where to look for him.

She noticed a few eyes fixing upon her as she strolled up to the bar and climbed up to sit on the stool there. And she grinned at the feeling of being noticed. Alright, so.. maybe she had made a few little adjustments to her dress between leaving the inn and entering the tavern. Maybe she’d undone the button at the top front of her bodice, just enough to give a peek of what little cleavage she had to show. And, maybe she’d also hitched up her skirt a little in the front, just to make it easier to walk. It wasn’t like she was dressed provocatively or anything inappropriate, she just didn’t want to look like a frumpy little girl who’d never left home before.

“What’ll you have, missy?” The bartender asked in a friendly tone.

Sofia took out the sketch of Reilly. "Answers, to start with." She informd him. "Have you ever seen this guy before?" She asked, sliding the sketch over.

"Don't look familiar." The bartender answered uninterestedly.

"You didn't even look." Sofia frowned.

"Look missy, you got money or not?" He demanded.

She tilted her head, then realized what she had done wrong. Getting a couple of coins from Amy's pouch, the girl slid them over to the bartender. "Could you tell me if you've seen him before?"

This time he took the coins and looked at the sketch for a long moment, during which time someone claimed the seats on either side of Sofia. "No, never seen 'im." He answered. "You having anything to drink?"

Disappointed, Sofia took her sister's sketch back and folded it back into her pocket. What a waste of coin, she realized. At his question, she lightly bit one side of her bottom lip, thinking about her options. “You know, I haven’t really decided what I like to drink, yet.” She admitted with a slightly bashful smile.

“How about trying the brandy?” The young man to her right suggested, leaning a little closer with a warm smile. “It’s made from fruit, so you’d like that, I bet.”

“Aw come on, Larik, this looks like a lady who likes things nice and sweet,” Another fellow argued, placing himself on the stool next to her, on her left. “Like you are, I’m sure.” He added with a grin to Sofia. “You should try the rum, instead.” He added with a wink. "It's made from sugar."

Smiling with surprise at this unexpected attention, Sofia glanced from one to the other, then laughed. “Well, now how am I supposed to choose between two such yummy-sounding options?” She giggled. She took a moment to consider, then decided, “I’ll try.. the brandy, sir.” She informed the barkeeper. “And, after that, the rum.” She declared, grinning toward the second guy.

With a nod, the bartender grabbed the bottle and poured her a glass of brandy, sliding it toward her.

Sofia smiled at the guy on her right, Larik. “Thanks for the suggestion. Let’s see if it’s a good one.” She grinned as she picked up her glass, trying a sip. It was noticeably stronger than anything she’d had before, and it took a little effort not to cough. She smiled at him. “Mmm. It is fruity.” She confirmed, deciding that she could probably get .

“Let me guess, you’re new in town?” He asked with a knowing grin, leaning one arm on the bar while sipping on his own drink.

Sofia laughed. “Is it that obvious?” She wondered, then looked to her other side with a smile to that guy. “Do you fellas live here, or..?”

“Oh, just passing through.” Larik assured her. “But we end up at a lot of harbor towns in our line of work, and I’ve never seen you around here before. I would’ve remembered seeing you.” He insisted.

Sofia giggled and sipped her drink, feeling pretty flattered at the guy’s words. Back home, everyone still thought of her as a little girl. It was infuriating sometimes. It was nice to be noticed for being more grown up than her sister gave her credit for.

“You have a really pretty laugh,” The guy on the left declared, grinning as he reached out to toy with a lock of her hair.

“Aw, really?” She sipped her drink, clearing her throat as it burned a little going down. “That’s so sweet of you to say.” She turned to him, smiling as she enjoyed the attention.

“Do you sing?” The guy on the left asked. “I bet you sing real pretty, too.” He declared, confident in his choice.

“You want me to sing?” Sofia asked, laughing. A little blush had come to her face, and she had begun to forget why she had even come here.

“Yeah, you should sing something! Definitely.”

“What should I sing? I don’t think I’ve ever sung anything in public,” She admitted, the blush deepening slightly. “I don’t even know any songs.” She realized, finishing her brandy. She grinned at the guy on her left before turning to the barkeeper. “A glass of rum, please?” She called to the man.

This brought a grin to his face. He leaned closer, about to say something.

“Oh, come on, you must know at least one song.” Larik interrupted, drawing her attention back to him. “Come on, just one?”

“Larik, the lady said she doesn’t know any,” The other pointed out. “Just ignore him, hon. If you don’t know any songs, that’s alright, we can just teach you some. Right?” He grinned over at Larik.

“Sure, you wanna learn some songs?” Larik asked, nudging Sofia with his elbow. “Me and Lathan can teach you plenty of things,” He promised.

Sofia glanced from one to the other, amused at their banter, and then giggled at their offer to teach her some songs. That sounded like fun! “Sure!” She agreed merrily. “What kinda songs do you know?” Then she added with a little laugh, “I’m Sofia, by the way. It’s nice to meet you both!”

[Rillewen]

(Private/Solo)

Sofia Nerennia
A shady tavern in Pelargir
with NPCs, Larik & Lathan
(May of 3018, middle of the night)

Time seemed to fly as Sofia learned a number of lively tavern songs, singing along with Lathan and Larik until she knew the words well enough. They laughed a lot between the three of them, and after she had practiced a couple of these songs several times, Larik and Lathan, whom she learned were brothers, encouraged her to go ahead and sing it loud for the whole tavern. Sofia was blushing a little as she boldly got up on a table(at Larik’s insistence) and began to sing for the whole tavern. And the more she sang, the more she found that she enjoyed it! She’d had no idea how much fun that could be until now! She laughed as she finished up that song, then launched into another one. This was a much more lively song, and she danced around while she sang it, and nearly fell off the table multiple times before she reached the end. She squealed with laughter as Larik caught her around the waist and swung her down from the table at the end of her song, cheering for how great she did. Sofia was giggling, her face warm from all the excitement, and grinned happily at him. “You’re riiiight, that was soooo much fuunn!” She declared, bouncing a couple of times with excitement.

“You better be careful, Sofia,” He warned her with a teasing grin, as he caught one of her hands and led her through a swift spin in place. “You’re a natural at this! Now everyone’s going to want to hear you sing. If you don’t watch out, someone might just come and steal you away,” he joked.

Suddenly reminded of her actual reason for coming here, Sofia blinked as she stumbled a little, unsteady from how much alcohol she’d consumed already.

Lathan caught her and steadied her, gently tugging her away from his brother. “Easy there. Maybe you should sit down,” He suggested. “Let me buy you another drink, huh?”

“Sure!” She agreed, with a little laugh at her clumsiness. A free drink? That sounded great! She did not even notice that her own coin purse had vanished into the pocket of her new ‘friend’, nor that he used her own money to pay for them all a round of drinks. She had no idea what the drink was that he handed her, either, but she didn’t really care by this point.

“To new friends!” He toasted, grinning.

“And a pretty girl who can sing,” Larik added, with a pointed smile aimed at her.

Sofia grinned and raised her glass. “You guys are sooo nice,” She declared, before taking a long drink. She coughed a few times as the alcohol burned her throat, but she was starting to get used to it. “But that doesn’t really happen, does it?” She asked, trying to bring the topic back to what she wanted to ask about. Her head was feeling a bit swimmy, but she tried to focus on her sister’s quest.

“What doesn’t?” Larik wondered absently, draining his own glass. He set the empty glass on the counter and gestured to the bartender for another round. “Come on, drink up,” he encouraged her with a nod toward her glass. “I want to buy you a drink, too. Can’t have my brother outdoing me,” He smirked.

Sofia laughed and picked her glass. “People.. you know, disappearing, like you said. Stealing people away? Does that happen?” She wondered. Asking questions about it seemed like a good way to find out about this stuff, after all. She took a large drink, pausing after to let the burning settle before she took another.

Larik and Lathan exchanged a brief glance, then Larik leaned in a bit closer. “You shouldn’t talk so loudly about that, Sofia.” He warned her in a hushed tone.

Her eyes widened at the mystery behind that comment. “Why not?” She looked at Lathan, then back at his brother.

“Oh… well, you don’t want to stir up trouble, do you?” Lathan pointed out. He lowered his voice. “See, you can’t go around in public places, like this, asking about stuff like that.” He explained.

“Why? What’ll happen?” Sofia frowned, trying to understand why she couldn’t ask about it, here.

“The wrong people might hear, and.. well, that’d be bad, right?” Larik answered.

“Right, you definitely don’t want to ask the wrong questions around places like this.” Lathan agreed.

“If you really want to know about that,” Larik said with a lowered voice, then hesitated, looking around as if to make sure he wasn’t being overheard. “I know someplace we can talk in private? It’ll be safe to talk there, I promise. No one will overhear us, there.”

Sofia looked at him with wonder. Had she just stumbled onto the lead that Amy had been missing? She’d known that she could be helpful to her sister! Sofia could potentially come back to the inn with news to lead Amy right to where her boyfriend was! “Yeah, alright. Let’s go.” She agreed eagerly, her head swimming. All she could focus on, at the moment, was that she might be able to hand her sister exactly the information she needed to find her fiance. And maybe there were other missing people who could be found, too. All thanks to Sofia! She’d be a hero!

The room spun a little as she stood up from the barstool, making her stagger and sway slightly, but she just laughed it off and allowed one of the brothers to give her a supportive arm as they headed for the door. He slid an arm around her waist to support her against his side, while the other opened and held the door for them.

Sofia grinned. “Aw, what a gentleman,” She giggled. No one had ever held the door for her before. Then again, she’d never really met that many guys before, either. Still, she’d heard that gentlemen do such things, so they must be in that category, right?

---

Amy Nerennia
Coming upon a bad situation

It was sounds of a struggle which drew her toward the alley. Amy had spent the last hour or so frantically searching the streets for any sign of her sister. Until now, she hadn’t seen nor heard any sign of Sofia. After waking in the night to find that she was alone in the room, Amy had swiftly dressed and grabbed her walking stick and her cloak, before rushing off into the night to find the foolish girl. Now, as she drew nearer to the opening of that alley, she could hear snatches of her sister’s panicked voice as she cried, ‘Let me go!’

Amy felt a mix of relief, concern, and then rage as she found her sister in the clutches of two men who were working together to subdue her. Amy couldn’t see them very well in the darkness of the alley, but it didn’t matter; she wasn’t about to let them harm her sister. “Let go of her!” Her voice cut sharply through the night, stopping the men as they attempted to pin down the squirming girl.

Startled, Larik and Lathan both froze and looked over to see who dared interrupt their fun. Then the older laughed as he saw that it was only a young woman standing there. “Looks like we don’t have to share after all, huh Lathan?” He grinned, seeing only the prospect of having a girl each, rather than just one to share.

“I said, let go of my sister.” Amy warned him, taking a couple of steps closer. She was armed only with a walking stick, which she always carried when traveling.. but not usually when walking through town.

Sofia was sobbing quietly, definitely not having fun anymore. Upon Amy’s arrival, she was hopeful that she would be rescued, yet she also worried. What if these guys overpowered Amy, too? They might both be in danger, now! All because of her. This was definitely not what she had planned on happening.

As Amy strode closer cautiously, Larik eyed the older girl up and down, and despite the dim lighting, he decided that she looked a little more appealing, anyway. Closer to his age, at least. He pushed Sofia into his brother’s arms and turned toward Amy.

Sofia stumbled, then tried to rush toward her sister but Lathan was too quick, his arms wrapping around her waist to pull her close against him.

Larik, meanwhile, grinned as he approached Amy. “Come on, join the party.” He invited cheerily. “Sisters, huh?” He grinned. “How fitting. See, we’re brothers, so...” He began explaining, then suddenly made a swift grab for her.

Amy had expected something like that. She waited until he got close enough, then when he made a grab for her, she swung her stick, striking him sharply in the arm that he reached for her with. She followed up with a hard knock to the head.

Larik staggered off to one side in surprise, holding his injured arm with a grimace. Then, turning toward her again, he narrowed his eyes. That was unacceptable. He was here to have a good time, not to get beat up by a stupid girl! “You’ll regret that,” He informed her before coming at her again, this time anticipating a bit of a fight.

This time, Amy waited only long enough for him to be in her range before she jabbed her weapon hard into his privates, then his abdomen. He doubled over with a pained groan, clutching his groin protectively as he whimpered, gasping in pain. Amy then brought the end of her stick up back up to strike him in an upward blow to the chin, and finished by turning her stick horizontal, and shoved hard against his chest to push him back from her.

Larik stumbled backward, then collapsed to the ground and stayed there, groaning and gasping in pain.

Amy kept her gaze on him for a moment to make sure he was really down, then she raised her eyes to stare at the other man. “Your turn now?” She asked with barely restrained contempt in her tone, raising an eyebrow at him. The pun, if one could call it that, was definitely intended, for as she approached the alley, she had heard them saying something about taking turns with her sister.

Lathan looked down at his brother, then looked up at the girl with the stick, hesitating.

“Let go of me,” Sofia begged, sniffling now. Her dress had been ripped during her struggling with the two guys, and she felt very dizzy and disoriented. All thoughts of the fun and laughing they’d enjoyed together in the tavern were gone now, and she wanted nothing more to do with these two. They were not at all like she had thought they were!

Lathan weighed his options, glancing from Sofia to Amy before he released the girl, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Don’t hurt me,” He pleaded, as Sofia collapsed to the ground, crying softly as her emotions overcame her.

“Take him and get out of here,” Amy instructed Lathan harshly, casting a disdainful nod toward Larik.

“Sure,” Lathan started to lean down to help his brother, then suddenly lunged toward Amy.

She had expected that he might try something like that. Amy sidestepped swiftly, using her staff to push him past her. As he caught himself against the wall behind her, Amy hooked her staff over his head and pulled it hard up against his throat, gripping the staff on either side of his neck, the back of his head pressed back against her. She kept him pinned like that until she felt him start to go limp. She waited for just long enough for him to begin to pass out, then she let him drop to the ground.

Larik was sitting up slightly by now, watching this happen with wide eyes. He reconsidered getting up and trying to grab Amy, after watching how she dealt with his brother.

She turned to him, standing ready to attack again. “Like I told him,” She said with a tiny jab with the end of her stick toward Lathan, “Take him and go.” Her voice was hard as steel as she went on. “And furthermore, I’m going to give your likenesses to the guards of this city, and every other city in Gondor. So, if either of you ever set foot on Gondorian soil again, you’ll be arrested so fast, you’ll be dizzier than my sister is right now. Is that clear?” She demanded.

Eyes widening slightly at this threat of arrest, Larik nodded slowly, then moved over to Lathan, who was starting to stir slightly by now. He dragged his brother up from the ground, muttering something in his ear as he helped him to hurry off into the night, with one last regretful glance back at the sisters before they were gone.

Amy followed as far as the end of the alley, watching them disappear down the street to make sure that they didn’t decide to circle back. Then she went back to her sister, taking her cloak off. She put it around Sofia backward, so that the opening was at the back. “Let’s get back to the inn and let the guards worry about them.” She suggested, her tone still terse.

“Should’a taken’em to the guards right now,” Sofia muttered, sniffling as she rubbed her eyes. She watched while Amy put her cloak over her, to cover the ripped place on her dress.

Amy said nothing in reply. Instead, she helped her sister up to her feet, one arm wrapping around her while the other held her staff.

Sofia had to lean heavily on Amy for support, her head still pretty fuzzy from all the drinks, and perhaps more. She was starting to wonder if there had been more in that last drink than just alcohol. And yet, even with everything affecting her, she knew that Amy was mad. She could just tell, by the way she kept quiet, and the tension in her body as she supported Sofia. She hoped to fix it before an argument happened. “I’m sorry, Amy.” She murmured, frowning as she allowed Amy to guide her out of the alley.

Amy glanced sidelong at her but said nothing. She was too angry and tense to trust herself to speak right now. Instead, she focused on walking her drunk sister back to their room, while keeping an eye out for anyone who might be following or observing where they went. She definitely did not want those two to decide to invade their room while they were sleeping.

It wasn’t until they had reached their room, and Amy had locked the door behind them and eased Sofia down onto her bed, that she responded to Sofia’s words. “What were you thinking?” She demanded, incredulous. “If I hadn’t woken up and found you gone-” She trailed off and threw her hands up in exasperation. “I searched for you for over an hour, Sofia! If I hadn't heard you... what if I'd been looking in the wrong part of town? What-”

“You’re gonna wake people up,” The younger informed her, as the older seemed to forget that it was still the middle of the night.

Amy drew in a slow breath, reining in her temper as her hands tightened into fists. Yes. It was still the middle of the night, and people were asleep. She wished she was one of them. She paced back and forth slightly, then turned back to her, keeping her voice low as she spoke this time, “What in Middle Earth possessed you to sneak out to the worst tavern in the harbor, after I told you to stay away from it, then get drunk with two strange men.. and go off alone with them?” She asked, marveling at her sister’s absurdly stupid actions. She poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the side table, and set it on the nightstand by Sofia’s bed. “Here, this should help.”

Sofia scowled as she grabbed her nightgown from her pack, and staggered across the room to go behind the dressing screen. “I was tryyyying to help you find your boyyyyfriend.” She answered sullenly, ignoring the water for now.

“By nearly getting yourself-” Amy stopped, shaking her head. “You do know what they were about to do to you, right?” Amy paced around, feeling frustrated and worked up still.

“Yes, I know.” Sofia retorted, coming back out in her nightgown, and tossed the ripped dress on the floor, and the sketch that she had retrieved from its pocket, she tossed onto Amy's bed. “I could figure out that much on my own, you know. I’m not stuuupid.”

“Really?” Amy couldn’t help it. The response burst out before she could think better of it. “Because everything you did tonight says otherwise.” She folded her arms over her chest, then let out a heavy sigh, realizing that maybe, that comment was uncalled for. “Look, I don't mean to be harsh, but.. you had me really scared, Sof…” She admitted, her tone softening a little. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to bring you along, you know.. I didn’t want to put you in any dangerous situations-”

“Like you care,” Sofia scoffed, flopping onto her bed, and glared across at Amy. She grabbed the water glass and took a long drink, finding that she was quite thirsty after all.

Sofia’s comment made Amy blink in surprise. “Of course I care,” Amy protested. “You’re my sister. Why do you think I told you to stay away from that place? Why do you think I went out looking for you tonight?”

“Whatever,” Sofia shrugged, set the glass down, and hugged her knees. “I found out some stuff, anyway.” She mumbled.

Amy slowly sat on the edge of her own bed, frowning as she quietly picked up her folded sketch of Reilly, and set it carefully on the nightstand. “What ‘stuff’?”

“Larik and Lathan said people do go missing sometimes, but that no one can talk about it.” Sofia looked up. “That’s why they were going to take me to somewhere private to talk, because they said it’s not safe to be overheard talking about it.”

Amy let out a sigh. She ran a hand over her face, then stared at the floor, debating whether to explain to her naive little sister that those guys would have told her anything they thought would get her to willingly come outside with them, so they wouldn't meet any resistance from anyone in the tavern. But then, could she really discredit that possible bit of information, without verifying whether it was true or not? Maybe it was worth exploring the possibility. But not tonight.

“Let’s get some sleep.” She decided, getting up to change back into her own sleeping clothes. “We’ll discuss this all in the morning.”

This time, Sofia thought sleep sounded like a great idea. She laid down with a sigh. But then she thought of a question. “Amy?” She frowned as she turned her head toward her. “Where’d you learn to do all that stuff, with that stick?” She wondered.

Amy paused before stepping behind the dressing screen. “Reilly taught me,” She answered softly. “He wanted me to know how to defend myself.” She thought of all the afternoons they had spent together. The time he had spent teaching her how to fight had merely been fun then, and at first, it had simply seemed like an excuse that Reilly had come up with, to spend time with her after their jobs each day. But now.. she realized that it was a highly useful skill to have. If she was going to keep up this search for him, she might end up having to use those skills more than she ever expected. Her throat tightened a little. “We’ll talk more in the morning, Sof.” Amy stepped behind the screen to change. After double-checking that the door was locked, she went back to bed, hoping that tomorrow would turn out better.

[Rillewen]

(Private/Solo)

|
Amy & Sofia Nerennia
An inn in Pelargir
May of 3018

“Breakfast time, Sofia.” Amy declared, setting a tray down on the small table between their beds. She had already been down to the inn’s common room for a late breakfast of her own, and now had brought some up for her sister.

Sofia groaned as she threw her arm across her face, trying to block out the sound of her sister’s cheery voice. “Not hungry,” She grumbled, rolling over.

“You’ll feel better after you have some breakfast.” Amy insisted. “And you should drink some of this, too.” She encouraged, setting a glass of something next to her.

Sofia ignored her, determinedly trying to remain asleep.

Amy sighed, then went over to stand by the curtain. “Either you sit up and at least make an effort to eat that, or I’m going to pull this curtain wide open.” She threatened.

Sofia groaned, pushing herself to sit up reluctantly. She cast a dark glare at her sister. “I dunno why you hate me so much, but you’re a terribly cruel sister, you know that?” She grumbled.

Amy smiled slightly. “Love you too, sis.” She sat in a chair by the window. “It’s well past noon, and we should be going on our way soon. But while you’re eating, I’d like your help.” She mentioned as Sofia picked up the glass, inspecting it curiously.

“With what?” Sofia frowned before taking a cautious sip. “What is this?”

“I’m going to start drawing those two from last night, and I’ll need your help.” Amy explained, getting out her sketch pad. “It’s honey water,” She answered, without mentioning that she’d also added a little salt to the drink, as it would help her to recover from the hangover more quickly.

“My help?” Sofia asked, surprised. She took a bigger drink before deciding it wasn’t bad. The honey covered up the salt, making it unnoticeable.

“Yeah, of course.”

“How can I help? I can’t draw like you can.” Sofia pointed out.

“I just saw glimpses of them in a dark alley,” Amy explained. “You got a better look at them than I did. You spent.. I don’t know how much time with them, in the tavern.. not exactly well-lit, but better lit than that alley.” She shrugged as she selected her sketching tools. “So, I’ll start sketching, and then you can tell me how accurate it is, and what changes I need to make, as I go.”

“Oh, right.” Sofia nodded, pleased that she could help in some way. “Sure.” She agreed, pulling the plate toward her. “This is mostly just fruit,” She complained, frowning.

“It’ll help.” Amy promised. “Remember, I was a healer apprentice.”

“Yeah, that makes you such an expert on hangovers,” Sofia rolled her eyes. “Have you ever even been drunk in your life?” She wondered, stuffing some bite-sized chunks of melon in her mouth.

“No, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to treat it.” Amy answered with a little frown. She closed her eyes for a moment to summon up what she could recall of Larik’s face, then began to sketch. After a point, she held up the rough sketch to show her sister for feedback. She continued working on the pictures for a little while, with Sofia occasionally offering helpful tips here and there, like ‘his nose was longer’ or ‘his chin’s a bit more squared’.

Sofia did begin to feel a little better as she ate, and by the time Amy had finished both sketches, she got up and got dressed in her spare dress. The other would have to be mended before she could wear it again. When Sofia came out from behind the dressing screen, Amy was packing up their things.

“So, we go on to Linhir now, right?” Sofia supposed, stuffing her own things into her pack.

“No, we’re going back to Minas Tirith after I stop off at the guards' office to give them these sketches.” Amy declared. “Come on, we need to check out before they charge us for another day.” She paused. “And we can’t afford to pay for that.” She added. “Since someone lost every bit of money that we brought with us.”

Sofia frowned and wordlessly followed Amy down the stairs, where Amy returned the key. Fortunately, they had paid for the room the night before. She remained quiet while Amy concluded that business. Their trip to the guard's office took a little time, as Amy insisted on Sofia giving her account of the story to the guards, and then explained how she had handled it, and turned over the sketches.

Finally, they went to the stable to retrieve their horses. “Why are we going back to Minas Tirith?” Sofia frowned, puzzled. “I thought you were going to go beyond Linhir, to look for him past the beacon or whatever?”

Amy sighed as she set her things aside to get her saddle. “I’m taking you back home.” She answered quietly.

“What? But you said I could come with you!” Sofia whined.

“Yes, and then you went and had your little.. adventure.. last night.” Amy reminded her while gently setting her saddle onto Wildfire’s back.

“I was trying to help.” Sofia pouted, folding her arms sullenly. “That isn’t fair.”

“Sof, it’s not really helpful when I have to go and rescue you from whatever situation you got yourself into.” Amy pointed out. “Maybe next time I won’t be able to get you out of it.” She said, while cinching the saddle up tight. “What if I hadn’t woken up? What if I hadn’t been out looking for you already? What if I hadn’t heard your voices from that alley?” She asked, turning to face her. “Or consider this.. what if I hadn’t been able to defeat them? What if they’d hurt us both? What would we do if they’d dragged us off to their ship?”

Sofia frowned, declining to answer the other questions, and focused only on that last bit. “What do you mean, their ship?” She wondered, puzzled.

Amy sighed and turned to get Sofia’s saddle next. “Those men were sailors, Sofia.” She explained with as much patience as she could summon. “Didn’t they mention that? Or were you too drunk to remember anything about them?”

“I remember,” Sofia frowned, thinking back. “Yes… I think they did mention a ship, but why would they take us there? Wouldn’t they get in trouble if their captain caught them bringing a girl on board?”

Amy gave her sister a long look, debating whether to explain. At last, she did. “I don’t think they were Gondorian men, sis. Sometimes, there are Umbarians who can pass themselves off as Gondorian, so they can move around in our cities without raising suspicion.” She explained.

"Wait, Umbarian?" Sofia's eyes widened at that. "But.. what makes you think they were?" She frowned, trying to make sense of that.

"Their accents weren't right, for one." Amy explained. "There was just something about them, I guess.." She sighed. “And if my guess is right, then they were going to have their fun with you, and then take you to their ship so all their crewmates could have fun, too. Then they’d take you to Umbar, to sell you..” She hated having to spell it out, but it was a sad fact that such things happened.

Sofia stared at her, then looked down at the stable floor, nodding slowly. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.” Amy took the next few moments to cinch Sofia’s saddle securely on her horse. “You were probably right, last night,” She acknowledged, belatedly. “I probably should have taken them to the guards right then.” She sighed. “But unfortunately, I didn’t want to push my luck. I’m just lucky that one guy decided not to press his luck, when he saw what I did to his friend-”

“Brother,” Sofia corrected, without thinking.

“Right, brother. Whatever.” Amy rolled her eyes, as the correction was insignificant. “Anyway, I didn’t want to try and restrain them both and walk them to the guard office, while also trying to worry about you.. and I couldn’t leave you in that alley alone, especially in your condition last night, so..” She sighed, shrugging. “I had to make a choice. And my choice was to ensure that we both got safely away, which means those two got to run off.” She sighed.

Sofia leaned against the stall wall, still pouting. “But why are you taking me back home? I don’t want to go home.” She protested.

“Sorry, but you’ve left me no choice.. again.” Amy shook her head, then arranged the saddlebags on their saddles, checking that all was ready for them to mount. She led both horses out to the stableyard, where Sofia could bring hers over to the mounting block. “Come on, up.”

“I won’t go.” Sofia folded her arms and stubbornly remained planted where she was. She would not go back to that empty farmhouse!

“Sofia,” Amy frowned. “Do you want to help me, or not?”

“Yes. So come on, let’s go on to Linhir.”

“We’re going back to Minas Tirith.” Amy led both horses out of the stable. “I can’t be worrying about you, and trying to keep chasing after you, while I’m out here searching. And I.. I can’t just.. not search for him.” She let out a shaky breath, bowing her head down to rest against her horse’s shoulder. “But, I can’t lose you, too, Sofia.”

Sofia frowned, surprised to see her sister getting so emotional. Tentatively, she reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. “I won’t get into anymore trouble, sis. I promise.”

Amy shook her head slowly. “This isn’t working, Sofia. You and I... we aren't good travel companions. I'm sorry, but we’re going back home.”

“No, let’s go down to Linhir, instead, please Amy? I don’t want to be all alone again.” She frowned.

Amy bit her lip, then shook her head. She thought for a moment, then spoke again, her voice softer. “I’m sorry that you were left alone, Sofia. I didn’t.. I wouldn’t have left you, if I’d known you were still around the area.”

“I know, yeah. It’s all my fault,” Sofia rolled her eyes.

“Well, yeah.. it kind of was,” Amy had to point out. “You sent me a letter saying that Mother had died and you were running away to Lebennin. What did you expect me to do?”

“I don’t know.” Sofia frowned, arms folded. “I didn’t expect you to go off into the wild and be gone for months and months..”

Amy shrugged. “The two people left in my life who I cared about were gone. Missing. I couldn’t not look for you both.” She answered softly. “But now that I know you’re safe, I intend to keep it that way.” Amy added. “I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. I’ll find you a job so you can support yourself, and if you don’t want to stay at the house alone, I’ll find you somewhere you can stay with someone. A boarding house maybe, or something.” She assured her. “I just… I can’t stay, and I can’t bring you with me again. I’m sorry.”

Sofia folded her arms, sulking. “Well, if we have to go back, do we have to ride?” She asked, sighing as she eyed the horse standing patiently at the mounting block. “Can’t we take the ferry, instead?” She grumbled.

Amy looked incredulously at her. “The ferry?” She asked in amazement as she folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. “With what money?”

Sofia frowned at her. “We had a whole purse full of coins last night. What happened to it?”

A brief huff of a laugh escaped Amy. “That is a really good question, Sofia.” She declared. “What did happen to it?”

Sofia blinked, thinking back, and then as she remembered that she’d had it, her hand instinctively went to her own pocket before remembering two more things; that she had been wearing a different dress last night, and also that she didn’t remember having it last night when she changed. She paused and looked at Amy with her eyes wide as she made the realization.

Amy waited until it dawned on her still-hungover sister, then nodded. “Yeah.. so we have no more money. Also not helpful.” She added, pointing out yet another reason why it was not helpful to have her sister around.

Sofia thought about that with a frown, staying quiet. She hated to admit it, but Amy was right. She had been very unhelpful to her, so far. She bit her lip thoughtfully, then she slowly got on her horse, although she continued to look pouty. "I will say though, it was kinda fun." She muttered.

"Fun?" Amy repeated, turning to stare at her in further astonishment. "Fun? Exactly what part about that whole ordeal did you find fun, Sofia? When they slammed you into the wall? Or maybe when they slapped you around? Or was it when they tore your dress? What was fun about any of that?" She asked, feeling a little dumbfounded at Sofia's latest declaration of 'fun'.

"Not that part, duh." Sofia rolled her eyes and sighed. "I meant before. In the tavern. Singing and dancing and laughing, and them buying me drinks.. that stuff was fun." She explained, a bit defensively.

"Oh, well I'm so glad you had fun." Amy retorted, feeling irritated. "Cause that's what this trip is all about, you know.. making sure you enjoy yourself, right?"

"Relax, would you? I went there trying to find clues to find your boyfriend." Sofia retorted back.

"Oh, yes, that's so helpful." Amy struggled to control her temper, but this was just.. too much. "What were you thinking? That maybe he's been taken by someone on a ship, so you'd just get yourself kidnapped by the same person? Then, of course, all I have to do is find you, and rescue you both. Brilliant plan, Sofia."

"You don't have to get all sarcastic," Sofia scowled. "I did ask about missing people. It's not my fault no one would tell me anything." She pulled herself onto her horse and sulked.

Shaking her head slightly, Amy mounted Wildfire, and they started off down the road. And, now that Sofia was keeping quiet and sulking, Amy began trying to think of what to do about her. Taking her home didn't solve the problem, it only created a different one. She couldn’t just take off and leave her to fend for herself, now that she knew where she was. But Amy also couldn’t abandon her search for her fiancé. But, with her mother dead, Amy realized that it was her responsibility to take care of her little sister, at least until she was of age to take care of herself. And yet, she also couldn’t bring her along with her. This disaster of a trip had proven that. So, what could she do?


(continued here)

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lady Azraindil Dimaethor
Túrion Dornea, Edhellon River, Dor-en-Ernil
Late April, Fourth Age

Azraindil examined the piece in question and the marks that Linny indicated. She didn’t know much about carpentry either. She never shaped wood or used an axe or saw. But she had seen lumber and wood break before. Snap under pressure. If she had been a bit more enlightened, she might have noted that the cut seemed a little bit too…clean? Was that the right word? Too clean. Not jagged or splintered, if the wood had broken under natural duress’s, unevenly along it’s length and all. No, she didn’t know. ”Okay, make me a copy. There might be answers in Minas Tirith.” She pondered, though she did not know how she might even come upon someone who would know. And how to even begin to explain the situation to them.

The rest of the week had little to no progress otherwise in regards to this matter. No more answers could be sought or obtained here. They instead spent the remainder of the time…just being girls. All the times they met at parties and functions, said in their letters, of what they would do when they could be together like this, and now they had the chance and opportunity, and it had been blunted by these revelations that Linny shared. They could now recapture a little of that earlier, more innocent spirit. They went riding and hiked in the hills. They talked about dresses and parties to come and elves in the woods. And she had to spend another evening with Toggornir, pretending to be a good betrothed and showing interest in him…

The final day came and she was set to depart in the morning. Ravondaer secured and stowed her luggage in a carriage they had for this purpose, that would take them by land and road the rest of the way to the White City. One of the local woman would also accompany them for the voyage, to make sure Azraindil had some feminine help, and also to do some trading on behalf of some of the lower classes for things that could only be bartered and obtained in Minas Tirith. Ravandaer seemed secretly pleased to have someone his age along.

Azraindil said her goodbyes to the Talven family. A curtsey and thanks for Lord Talven, a hug for Lady Duvanieth, who as a parting gift gave her a small box of chocolate to take with her. Azraindil thanked her profusely, fighting back the tears, knowing how much her mother was missed and how Duvanieth must be feeling, with her own varied losses. She hugged the older woman a long time. Toggornir received only a curtsey and a promise that she would try to write. She wasn’t going to try at all.

She thanked the staff and last of all, before the awaiting carriage further on, was Dulinneth. Azraindil embraced her. ”Well, I’m off to the big city now, to learn the healing trades. My fingers and hands are going to be so worn out.” She joked with a sad smile. ”I’ll make sure to save all my notes for you if you ever want to try the Healer’s path in life.” She wound her arm with Linny and they walked a bit towards the carriage, where her two companions were waiting with the horses. She held the box of chocolates in her other hand.

”I’ll never forget this trip.” Azraindil said quietly. And very solemnly. No, they did not need to reference just what exactly about this trip would be so unforgettable. She learned so many terrible secrets. She was as much a conspirator as Linny was. ”Don’t do anything silly without me. If there’s going to be troubles and groundings, we should be in it together.” She jested sadly again. She opened the box then, revealing little chocolate cubes, some imprinted with little deigns and swirls. ”Would you like some? A toast to my journey, we can say.” She said on a more cheerful note, offering Linny a piece.

A chocolate each, delightful and savory, and then a final, fond embrace and farewell, before Azraindil mounted her carriage and they were driven out, the visiting noblewoman waving her hand through the window all the way until they were out of sight.

No, she was never going to forget this trip. And even with all the terrible and wicked things learned and discovered…the world seemed to have just a little bit more colour in it now then it had when she arrived.

Scene End

[Hanasian]

(Private)

Durian



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1 Narquelië - 30 Ringarë - 3019 III

It was a an amicable send-off Hanasian had given him in Harlond, and Durian had taken his offered passage to Osgiliath. But moving stone rubble was only a job that gained him some pay, and weeks later he quit and booked passage down the Anduin to Pelargir.

Even before the end of the war, Pelargir was a city that had a lot of varied culture. Being Gondor's major seaport with a history that went back to Numenorean times, it had taken in what it wanted from Harondor to Anfalas, and the trade route south into Harad. It was by far Gondorian, but much could be found in the markets and along the quays and especially in the old quarter. It was here where Durian found himself working part time as a metalsmith and a tanner.

For a time his demons rested within him, and he began to put the war behind him. But he would still wake at night from memories shrouded in dark dreams, and they questioned his decision to answer Halbarad's call to ride south to war.... a war that found its way to the north... rekindling the embers of wars of old. On these nights, the rising sun would find Durian sitting on a dock gazing out over the Sirith River, pondering where he would go next. Maybe Umbar... it was further away from his home in the north where his wife and unborn baby perished... No, he needed to go back one last time... to see for himself and to say goodbye. It of course was easier to ponder than to do. Durian continued to ruminate in Pelargir...[/size]

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1 Nárië - 3020 III

It was already becoming summer in Pelargir even as it would still be spring in the north. He had managed to hang on to a lot of his money he had made. A lot of it was mainly thanks to a lucky streak gaming at the Old Anchor Tavern. He had of course lost half of what he won, but even as drunk as he was, he had enough sense to leave before it was all gone. Trouble was, others had noted his winnings as well, and a couple rough-looking fellows slipped out the door not long after Durian did.

The fight happened not far from the docks. Durian had made quick work of a slinky squint-eyed guy he figured was a Dunlending, but it was the big Haradian that was the hardest to dispatch. Despite receiving a couple cracked ribs from the man's seemingly iron fist, Durian managed to pull the knife from his attacker's sheath on his belt and sink it into him. Once his grip loosened, Durian made his way to the Sirith River docks where he stowed away on one of the ships.

As luck would have it, the ship was slated to go to Harlond in Lindon and left port when the dead Haradian was discovered. Durian was heading north whether he wanted to or not.